An under recognized literary movement is the world of Zombie Poetry. Great works created by the living and the post-living have gone unrecognized for generations. One of our great hopes is that our blog can serve as a place to bring some of the world’s great undead poetry to light.
This short piece was found in a midwest farmhouse after a late summer Zombie gathering. The author and recipient are unknown. Though it is believed that the former ate the later before moving on to gardens further east.
“The roses are dead
after months of no rains
don’t come out to save them
or we’ll feed on your brains”
If you have created or discovered Zombie Poetry please feel free to send it to us for publication here. Together we can help keep this art form alive… or, well, you know.
(transferred from previous blog host, published 10.08.08)
- Roses Are Dead… a zombie poem
I also like to make poems and read lots of books that is related to Poetry.*-”
Thump-thump, Slide
It’s a beat to die for.
Somewhere inside,
Hidden in darkness,
We hope not to
Catch its rhythm.
We are staccato-legged
Clef-eared and hammer-hearted,
There is something downstairs.
Coming up,
Coming this way,
Humming an out-of-tune,
Monotone
There’s a creek
At the door
We jig out the window
And onto the roof
For one last dance
Before our song changes.