Poetry From The Grave
A Free Anthology Compiled by
Rhonda E. Kachur
Copyright © 2012 Rhonda E. Kachur
Cover Design by Cinsearae S.
Opening Comic art by Ginger Rose
Opening Comic Art Poem and Lettering by Rhonda E. Kachur
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This story is a work of fiction. Incidents, names, characters, and places are products of the author's imagination and used fictitiously. Resemblances to actual locales, events, or persons, living or dead, are coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Rebirthday - Holly Tucker
My Zombie Valentine - P.J. Kelley
Let A Zombie Be Your Guide - Christine Kansy
Haiku #1 by Scott Emerson
Haiku - Rebecca Carter
HABIT - Scott Emerson
BALEFUL - Seven L. Cooper
Haiku “Bones” – Rhonda E. Kachur
An isolated incident - Christine Masters
No Heart Beat - Kaylene Humphreys
City of Decay - Beverley Price
End - Rhonda E. Kachur
Dead Time – Afobos
The Worst Dream - Kaylene Humphreys
Dead Life - Ragina Sebastian
Late Night Walk - Kaylene Humphreys
My Friends and Me - J. Rodimus Fowler
Haiku “Flesh” – Rhonda E. Kachur
My Zombie Girlfriend - Michael McCarty
Haiku #2 by Scott Emerson
Swallow - Queenie Thayer
Zombie Bordello - Rhonda E. Kachur
The Taste From Within - Eric Polk
Threnody - Charlie Morgan
Haiku “Fast Food” – Rhonda E. Kachur
Night of the Living Dead: A Seussification - Nathan Hamilton
Not Dead - Rhonda E. Kachur
And a special flash fiction tale
The REAL Life of a Zombie - Cinsearae S.
Rebirthday - Holly Tucker
That toxin spill,
Gave me a thrill
Now I'm on the make,
But it's not a heart I want to take
I'm focused on another matter,
Which I want served on a silver platter
With a glass of chardonnay,
To celebrate my rebirthday.
My Zombie Valentine - P.J. Kelley
"Oh Sweet Zombie O'Mine
Your fearsome visage makes me pine,
For days when Love's sweet embrace
Was something from which I would not race.
Your meat-sweet breath on my lapel
With teeth to damn me straight to Hell
What lofty overtures we played
Before your snarls to me were weighed
Against the cost of lover's sorrows
That cost my Zombie love her morals.
From what once you did shirk my love
Who were as gentle as the dove
You now do seek a human meat
As a living, writhing treat.
My love has aged me a'fore my time
My lovely, raging Valentine.
And so to you I look askance
From your surly countenance
I cannot venture from my course.
By this shotgun, we are divorced.
Let A Zombie Be Your Guide - Christine Kansy
Yesterday I placed my soul in a rock by the seaside
I wanna be a zombie
'cause zombies never cry
Voodoo is life you creatively visualize
I wanna be a zombie
they don't see from their eyes
I'm on a roller coaster going low and high inside
I wanna be a zombie
'cause zombies won't ride
Why dig your heels in with wrong on your side
zombies can't listen
zombies can't lie
Should you give up when you can't see the sky
zombies don't care
zombies don't know why
Yesterday I left my soul in a rock by the seaside
'cause zombies don't remember
zombies never die
Haiku #1 by Scott Emerson
This trick-or-treat bag
Perfect for catching pieces
of my crumbling face
Haiku - Rebecca Carter
Headshots are required
or the dead won’t stay down
Humanity gone.
HABIT - Scott Emerson
Stiffened grey fingers guide the needle inside
a cold vein, flesh sloughing from his
thumb as he plunges junk
into a bloodstream gone stagnant and
black
An illusion of heaven
in this decaying urban hell
BALEFUL - Seven L. Cooper
Bitten are we.
Roaming dead alive,
Graves disturbed.
Chemical, viral, bacterial or divine,
Tears shed,
Ones loved.
~Baleful~
Loved ones,
Shed tears.
Divine or bacterial, viral, chemical,
Disturbed graves.
Alive dead roaming,
We are bitten.
Haiku “Bones” – Rhonda E. Kachur
It would be quicker
To break their bones with my teeth
If they weren’t rotted
An isolated incident - Christine Masters
The air was cool
the sky was clear
I sat on the porch
and popped open a beer
My dog stood fast
his teeth he did bare
I reached for "sweet sally"
I always kept near
I pulled back the pump
Drew in a deep breath
over the last several days
I had become an expert on death
The first one I Killed
took more then one try
I'd hit it over and over
but it just wouldn't die
I learned real fast aim for the head
then use an ax
to make sure that it's dead
As the figure got closer
tears filled my eyes
It was one of the Miller kids
from just down the road
dressed in her Sunday best
she wasn't but 10 years old
There was no choice
there was no guess
the shot rang out
ruined that pretty little dress
I threw her on the fire
and as the smell hit the air
I headed back to the porch
and finished my beer
It had been 15 days
since the virus broke out
An " isolated incident" the president said
without a doubt!
Mr. Morgan called the very next morning
He said" stock all your supplies girl
and heed my warning.
Do it now , do it with haste
gather ammo and food
you got no time to waste."
I scanned the horizon there were other survivors out there
I had seen their smoke signals and the
red S.O.S. flares
But Mr. Morgan had warned me
He had said without doubt
"Stay at the cabin and Do not wander about"
I looked down at my dog
patted his head
"Come on old boy it's time for bed"
No Heart Beat - Kaylene Humphreys
When you think of love,
you think of fun.
A living breathing,
good time.
When I think of love,
I feel the lack of.
A cold gruesome,
horror fest.
A girl’s first boyfriend,
talk dark and handsome.
Evenings to dine,
and movies for show.
But me, oh my,
my dream guy.
Rotting flesh,
and gnashing teeth.
City of Decay - Beverley Price
It was the day the sun turned black,
That the zombies took over the earth.
The writing was on the wall, the end was nigh,
But you were still my source of happiness and mirth.
Outside was an endless procession of the undead,
Wickedly adorned with the symbols of magic.
Enchanted I watch them go by, friends and family,
But you here to hold me, makes it a little less tragic.
They trample over the gardens, crushing all the flowers,
Possessed they no longer see the beauty of the world,
Sired by an unknown source, government, terrorist,
Rumours are not the only things hurled.
The witch and her cat first took the blame,
Despite being the light in our dark, our healers,
But they could not weather the sorrow,
And disappeared and retracted their feelers.
No one owned up on the darkest night,
When the zombies become the norm.
But here with you, my lost lover and friend,
I do not care why, when you keep me warm.
So for over a month, the white demons has ruled,
Enthralling in their nightly dance.
Mixed within the black winged angels,
Together in their deathly trance.
Tonight the night is ghostly blue,
Alert with feline instincts, ready to run.
To become the queen of darkness,
With my holster and zombie gun.
Resisting the urge for nocturnal temptations,
Although each night may be our last.
If passions become unleashed, death would follow.
And takes us away from life too fast.
To be your virginal bride was all I wanted,
Your wife, lover and artistic muse.
But the undead took away that life,
And we have been left singing the blues.
A glimpse out of the door at the world outside,
I am faced with a sea of faces of winter.
But I can not lie to the broken mirror,
I wish I'd been a better sprinter.
It would almost be too easy to give up,
To step out into the night, in the toxic city.
Yet you wrap your arms around me,
My lord of the dark, I lose my pity.
I'd would rather take my chance with humans,
And dragons would be a calming force,
But we are hiding for unnatural creation,
Who want to eat us as a main course.
There are searching for us like a falcons,
Homing in on its petrified prey.
As we hid with the comforter of darkness,
Waiting for the end in the city of decay
As the zombies surround the house,
I hold you in my arms and one last kiss.
Pounding on the door, the end is now,
Dying with you would be zombified bliss.
The End - Rhonda E. Kachur
Those goddamn things are everywhere!
Nowhere to run
Nowhere to hide
My supplies are running low
I’m getting hungry
I’m getting thirsty
I can’t even defend myself anymore!
I’m out of ammo
I’m out of hope
My mind has been wandering lately…
Is there anyone else?
Am I really alone?
I can’t believe how long it’s been…
Since I’ve heard laughter
Since I’ve laughed
Is it really worth trying to survive anymore?
There’s no reason left
There’s nothing left
There’s only one thing left to do
Taking down the boards…
Walking out the door…
Dead Time – Afobos
I walk alone in the empty streets. The quiet is loud as the wind whistles lonely through the street signs, animating the torn banners and other remains of the once busy streets. The shuffling of feet sends shivers up my spine, as I walk alone with nothing left, maybe not even time…
The dead walk the world, and the living hide. The living had their turn and it’s time for the dead to push the breathers to the side. The slow shuffling gate of an animated corpse is slowly headed my way, dripping maggots and other things as I step out of its way blind with no eyeballs to even glance my way. They are easy to sidestep and easy to outrun, and I gave up trying to kill them back in the alley where I lost my gun.
Two, more sprightly head my way having seen the breathing man and heading for their prey. I pick up the pace and head the other way, only to see a larger group block my path, my breath more visible as I shiver with the winter rain.
I’ve seen what the undead can do to a man, and I’d rather die any death but the one suffered at long dead hands, my flesh ripped off to satisfy their never ending pain. They eat because that is the only thing they have left.
They don’t even need the food they eat, and they eat simply because it’s all they know. I’ve seen one eat the living flesh bright red and steaming in the cold, only for it to fall to the pavement below the eater, who had no stomach and no flesh below his collarbone.
It’s as if the devil has won, and God has gone to hide. Hell is all that’s left, and the dead seem to be in charge of dealing out the pain to atone for the sins of mankind. I pull an arrow out of the quiver on my side and I pull back the string of my bow. It flies true to give the animated corpse its final rest striking deep inside its loathsome brain giving it peace, and a welcome diversion for the ones that follow.
Lost in the snow covered streets of a forgotten city in a forgotten land, I make my way towards the smoke I have followed since I lost my gun. The light at the distant window high up the once majestic glass covered building of days gone by, shines like a beacon of make believe pulling me in like a moth to a flame.
To see another living being, and to touch a still warm hand, to find myself with others that yet breathe, it sounds too good to be true, but I trudge through the ankle deep snow, avoiding the dead, and trying not to be tempted by store fronts promising food and things left over from the time before the plague.
I reach the building that’s lit up, and see the smoke stretching up to the sky, and it’s not a fire as I feared, but someone’s home in the middle of the city of the dead, a beacon of life surrounded by the undead. The group of them is huge around the place, somehow knowing that light and smoke means the living, and they just shuffle and moan and bump into one another knowing nothing but their hunger, and their pain.
They notice me, and moans start like a twisted chant. A chant born from hell, that makes the hair stand up, and leaves my blood too cold to be warmed by my still beating heart. They come towards me and I see the figures at the window high up above.
The moans intensify as the undead are cut down by arrows and guns and thrown torches far below. I run towards the throng, and at the last minute dart to the left. I then cut back behind them and run towards the doors now free from the mob hungering for my flesh. The door opens a crack and a voice yells for me to run.
I take th
e steps five at a time, and roll through the opened door to hear it slam. An angel reaches down to me and takes my hand. She looks into my eyes and smiles as I feel her warm flesh, and I rise to my feet surrounded by the living and welcomed back amongst men.
The Worst Dream - Kaylene Humphreys
I awoke with a turn,
six feet under.
Pulled my way out,
walked my way home.
I grab my wife,
and bite her all up.
But I was just saying,
I had the worst dream.
I fed on many on my way,
I remember her shriek.
When I walked in the door,
I saw this image.
I swore I howled,
then I realized.
This hunger,
my dream.
What all of this means,
My now zombie bride.
Together we hide,
as the bullets fly by.
All of this because,
I swore I awoke,
from this terrible dream.
Dead Life - Ragina Sebastian
It bit me the dead thing, and I wait burning with fever so cold,
from the bite. I killed it the dead thing. Funny—it did not
Seem to want to die again. Did it feel anything but hunger?
Did it feel its life was at stake and take the chance to eat?
I bashed the things brains in with a knotty pine branch. A vague
resemblance of pain danced on that things face. I guess I will
know soon taking the place of a walking dead--of a living dead
—zombie duplicity—disgrace-- I feel—something shifting.
Not like, I am under the weather. But, the soul in me is changing,
or leaving, or crumbling within. The strand of the coil altering—
changing forever. I need to run—run with agitation--run in fear—
it is consuming me now how clear it has become. I am a victim
of a supernatural experience and not a plague. The bug opened
a door and let a demon inside. So vague my understanding
so close my death— I, I, I, I, I, I, i, i, i. i, i, i. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
.…move nearer the others who will understand the quest.