"zombified" poems
In a world of zombified teens so loaded up on antidepressants,
anti-anxiety and anti things-
it must be asked.
Did that boy who jumped off the bridge just last week,
leap in an attempt to grow wings?
Maybe he did it just to see if he'd be scared?
Or perhaps.
He felt just too much to live
with the numbness his medication offered
He was never looking for
A temporary solution to his pain.
What about that darling girl who's arms and thighs are
In a love affair
With an abusive razor?
Does she stay with him for fear of going back,
Again and again,
only to be called weak for leaving in the first place?
Or for the fear that she'll
Never
Feel the same exhilaration
From another's kiss?
The last question of tonight.
How is it that I am just noticing now,
How carefully he avoids the word
Home
Almost as if he knows the place
I grew up in
Will never be a home again.
Not to me.
Does he know,
It represents
Nothing but a return to the front line?
Just like being ****** back into the trenches
A still wounded soldier.
Nothing but a band-aid
Covering what once
Was a gaping bullet hole.
She still feels his hands on her.
They sound as loud as a grenade in her head
The slap of his hand traumatizing as an atom bomb,
She reaches for her lover,
Hoping he can distract her from the battle
All while
Neglecting
To acknowledge he brings with him
His own
War.
They all stand at his funeral
Holding hands and saying a prayer.
Hoping,
Praying,
He grew his wings.
Nobody understood
What could have led him
To choose the pain of
A jump
Over
The silence of a pill
Or the speed of a bullet.
Most of all though,
His mother just wants to know
Why he didn't tell her he needed to be held.
We all have our demons,
Skeletons in the closet.
What people don't realize is
Wars are fought every day
The trenches lie
Not in Dead-Mans Land
but
Inside our heads.
Aug 30, 2013
Aug 30, 2013 at 10:51 PM UTC
If you think I will settle for anything less than extravagant you're wrong, I will not forever wait around loving a ghost. I will not continue to search inside of you for love, nor will I accept love that is made from shadows and empty words. I have so much love inside of me waiting to be discovered, and I will not keep pouring it out into a place where it goes on forever and is never returned. A piece of me gets lost with each time that I love you, it's as if I've been throwing stones far down a well while watching them disappear. perfectly disguised sentences fall from your mouth to my ears, but I can not feel the magic behind each word. I am restless, much too restless to be held still and hopelessly waiting. If you think that I am blind to the unseen you're wrong, I live in a world of my own senseless imagination. You can not trick me with an act, I can feel everything that lays in-between my universe and yours. I can not put my trust into anything that I cannot feel, and these zombified words scream so loudly of nothingness that the ringing in my ears has made me gone deaf to them. I feel so at rest by the thought of your stardust colliding with mine, but I'm running out of love.
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 9:39 PM UTC
bury me living
for i am in a world of dead
where the zombified stumble around
looking for meaning
maybe it'll make more sense
six feet under
and down the river styx
tie me to a raft
and let me drift
far, from this meaningless charade
known as life
Jan 23, 2021
Jan 23, 2021 at 1:11 PM UTC
Life ain't so funny when you ain't got
that honey feeling deep inside
You had it once when you were very
young (when you were little)
When you were close to the Source
Close to your god and your Mom
That lovely sweet ambrosia feeling
It used waft through your being
Its various colours lighting you up
inside
Like a veritable Christmas tree
Made you feel real special, made you
feel so alive
Made you feel that Life was
something amazing
An incredible ride.
But that was then, and this... this is
now
Seems almost like a lifetime ago
Like some myth or legend
Lost way in the mists of Time,
Been so long since I had that feeling,
You begin to wonder was there ever
such a place
Did it ever really exist at all.
The World it offers you sweets and
chocolate
Their nice but they don't last, their
over too fast
And they only remind you of what
you've lost
(And yea, you can eat that sugar but
it'll only **** you brother
It ain't the same and it ain't what
you're looking for).
Inside there's just this great big hole
That you try and fill with anything
Eating too much, drinking too much
(You don't know when to stop, and
even then, it's never enough)
Working as well... too much! staring,
Staring at the TV (the almighty TV),
And pretending...yea, pretending your
whole
If only they knew these smiles of
mine, their not true
And these words, their all hollow too,
There's nothing here in me, I... I'm
empty.
Each day is just another desert to
cross,
Another desert to roam
Lying sprawled out on the sofa in
front of the TV, stupified and
zombified
You think to yourself, "there was a sweetness once, wherever did it go".
Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 8:00 AM UTC
my legs are twitching with the need to run
to chase a moment, a year,
a lifetime that’s slipping away.
my hands are numb, fingertips brushing
working on autopilot,
following the logic
of things that need to be done
before anything can happen.
my body,
it’s exploding.
waves crashing inside me
yearning, urging, and tearing
at my stationary being,
at my hollow bones attached to tried muscle
and tired skin.
psychologically imploding
with the need to live
and breathe
and do.
experience.
but i’m trapped in this prison of a cultureless culture
in these shackles of people, zombified,
telling me what i can and can’t be
bound to the ground
by the word no;
darling you can’t,
darling you’re too young,
darling you’re trapped,
darling you can’t leave,
darling, you’re stuck.
and with my lips aflame,
trying to release my need to be,
when i simply can’t be,
not yet.
my body, it’s rotting.
twiddling my thumbs,
until life is allowed to start.
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 9:51 PM UTC
It started out a day like any other.
Down at Billy Bobs Nuclear Power Plant and toaster repair.
Where I sit in front of the monitor
with my dumb blank look and stare.
Until my friend Jim came in,
with coffee, doughnuts, and a magazine, he had grabbed from the john.
Wouldn't you know it the centerfold was gone.
So, I stood up to stretch and yawn.
As I sat back down I knocked over the coffee,
And the jelly doughnut rolled out the door into the hall.
The array of toasters went up in flames,
as did the magazine and the wall.
Jim started talking like Captain Kirk,
as he went into his Star Trek mode.
I slapped him hard across the face,
and informed him this Enterprise was set to blow.
That's when we both turned and saw the florescent green ooze,
seeping under the door.
At that point it was every man for himself,
as I pushed the elevator for the 13th floor.
Leaving the babbling Jim behind,
with the elevator on its way,
pipping in a soft musical version
of Jimi Hendrix's Purple Haze.
(which seemed to me rather odd)
Once the doors slid open,
thinking there's never been a 13th floor before,
I was surrounded by flesh eating zombified rodents,
About to become their lunch de jour.
As the zombie rodents zeroed in,
my friend Jim showed up...What luck.
With communicator in hand, and in his best Kirk voice,
He said, "Scotty beam us up".
As we were high in the sky,
I saw half of the south implode.
As boring as this day started,
you never would have know'd.
I hated to leave the world behind,
In such a mess, after my coffee spill.
One thing I did leave, believe you me,
Was Duncan Doughnuts the entire bill.
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 6:30 PM UTC
She’s drilled holes into her temples
And tried to pull out memories with her bitten fingernails
She’s recited everything she’s said and heard
Into a ***** toilet bowl every night on the hour
She’s weeped a million times over
From her eyes and from her wrists,
But the thing about remembering is that you don’t forget--
And now the scars left over can’t scab
The phrases are written in morse code on her body
Her will has been evicted along with her soul
And she’s become zombified, a living piece of parchment
From which she’s tried so hard to erase the words
But the thing about remembering is that you don’t forget--
The sound of a voice tears hers apart every day
And the words they form she’s come to despise
So she’s taken up book burning,
Making every letter ever aimed at her head run for their lives
She’s even made her own name take off, and now she’s
Desperately pleading for eternal silence to be her savior
But the thing about remembering is that you don’t forget--
So when you see her in the hallways, she pretends she’s invisible,
Pretending that her presence won’t have any meaning to it,
Pretending that she’s not important enough to be noticed,
Because her motto is fake it
Until you make it.
But the thing about remembering is that you don’t forget--
And the ones that have told her she’s not good enough,
That she’s better off dead and no one will care,
They laugh at her and then they forget.
They come back around the next day to laugh at the same joke.
She looks in the mirror and tries to laugh like them,
Laughing so much, she begins to cry,
But the thing about remembering is that you don’t forget--
So when you hug her and tell her it’s alright,
That you love her and tell her she’s worth more than life itself,
Sing it to her, so she won’t forget.
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 1:50 PM UTC
Too tired to sleep too stubborn to fight
eyes resist both closing and capturing pictures
leaving one (Me) to be in a state of zombified negligence and grump.
Sleepy funk, like dreaming a boring black and white
film covers retinas and lenses
brain swirls in intoxication of running on E
and not even the fun kind
just the Empty kind that needs some juice
or nap
or maybe just some lovin' from a certain someone ****
though that's a stretch
and muscles are currently too ****** to reach that far
or scratch broken ribs of progress or even to
drink much of anything
just trying to be happy
though one needent need to try
just breathe and try not to wish for the night
because today may be the last or next to last
and the uncertainty just causes more anxiety
so the cycle of strife rains on its acid and placidity
until finally I'll crash
or implode, or cry
and it'll be great
because breakdowns are necessary for life and peace and tranquilizing.
May 28, 2012
May 28, 2012 at 12:48 PM UTC
Last year
Your husband hammered
Your loving heart
And stopped it
Unable to shock it back to life
It cracked with soundless thumps
Depressing through your body
Zombified
You walked along
Hoping for a cure
Today
I feel you
Alive in strength
Your heart plays
Drumming melodies
From across the pond
Beating with life once again
Recently melting in
Warmth of opportunity
My dearest friend
I see reality
Unfortunately
The clouds hovering
Behind his sunshine smile
I smell vultures hiding
Waiting near by
Til you fall in his bed
In moments after
When you will be lying alone
In your thoughts
Feasting on your glued heart
A heart you fixed on your own
You are built on resilience
Believe that this is
A simple attraction
Ready to evaporate
Into the gloom
Spilling rain of hope
Revealing the rainbow
Shining bright
For only your eyes
To spark with
Jl 2016
Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 6:18 AM UTC
Your hands reaching towards the sun
They’ve conned you into thinking its fun
Grabbing fistfuls of darkness
While longing the lightness
Feel it slipping through
Almost as elusive as finding remnants of you
Before happiness was a memory you could only dream of
And frozen snapshots of her face the girl you used to love
Reaching reaching reaching reach for a hand
Anything you can hold on to
Try to lighten up find someone new
So you let down your guard
And grab mine hard
As you trust me to lift your body
Higher up than anybody
Because you know I can
And I know you can
You strive toward the feeling of lightness
Like a ghost there but not really there
Watching in the background you used to stand
Now you find out you really can’t
As more falls to the ground
The lower you sink down
Going through the motions
Mind zombified you lost your emotions
Your vitality your control
You became so focused on your goal
When will you be satisfied
When will you realize
That too less is too much
A revelation falls from the sky
Carries to your mind
In the form of a white lily
The voice whispering in your head
Lying in the hospital bed
The lighter you are
The heavier my heart becomes
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 9:30 PM UTC
Have no fear, Have no fear
Fetch your Rifle!
‘You’re a soldier son – shed no Tear’
Intoxicated, Zombified – we must fight!
No matter where, How or When
Regardless if it were Day or Night
But, why must one man fight another
And for what cause?
And Why must one slay his own brother
Without a hesitant pause.
Tis it for country? Tis it for Pride?
Answer me!
Tis it a Bandwagon one must just Ride
At Night I wake to cries of Pain.
To those thunderous claps.
Slowly but surely I’ll go insane.
But for what cause? One always asks
Did we lose humanity
Under Gas Masks
If one does not fear,
then one simply lies.
For without such fear
One simply dies.
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 2:43 PM UTC
Cuter than those
With the plague, or rabies,
Or fungusy toes,
Or a bad case of scabies,
Or one extra nose,
Are zombified babies.
O.O
Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 5:41 PM UTC
Spinning circles in my head
I never have been on the meds
I hear they're great and fix some stuff
but I just want to be enough
I don't want to be zombified
that just makes me mortified
so I will argue for our right
to just be different, that's our fight
so we have too much energy
and are lacking synchronicity
people can't keep up with us
some with Tourettes often cuss
wild ideas spinning out
enthusiastic scream and shout
and they just want to structure me
to fit me in their society
this is how it's supposed to be
well sorry dude, that just ain't me
I just want creativity
and redefining normalcy
that box just will not fit us all
sorry but it's just too small
we were made so limitless
it's time for us to be fearless
breaking out to be our own
we discover the unknown
Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 5:06 PM UTC
Dear alarm clock,
We need to talk
There needs to be an intermission
Between used and the user.
For you're the first thing I hear in the morning,
Sometimes before the rooster has even awoken
BUT,
Your obnoxious tone, that pierces the serenity
makes me remember all the mornings you tricked me into thinking I had 5 more minutes.
You s l o w down
When I stare at you
And you speed up on the moment my glazed and zombified glare ends.
You abruptly ruin my my slumber, are you crying for attention? Is there something wrong?
But the reason I'm here
Is to
Apologize..
I've ignored
Your patient plastic all day till I need you most,
And your metal arms ask nothing of it.
I guess our friendship can have its ups and downs
As long as
You're here for me tomorrow.
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 7:34 AM UTC
I like to look
out the window
and count how
many rooms stay
lit
after midnight,
on a sunday night.
how many souls
breathe
despair & anxiety.
how many people
lay
and execrate their
following morning shift.
how many people's
child keeps them
zombified
at night.
how many people
just
don't care...
it's 2 in the morning,
and it's
nice being me.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 10:26 AM UTC
Cresol dusk imbued to rustic hypnosis,
The civic stroll outside,zombified with
What must be glorious ataxia.
The masquerade hosted by dust,
An implicit surrender to the elements,
Basked in nocturnia-- lo,
The elements ceased having meaning
When I learnt I could not hold control
over them.
See the sky ramp and shiver,shuffling stars
In a showcase to those loving,an augury to those
Self-appointed sinners--
And see me,disconnected and without a care,
I surrender my breath as limboid tangents
And the elements do not rebut.
I am homed in becoming alone,
I am possessed in converse and I am lost
without the choice to be otherwise.
I watch the gimcrack mannerisms loop effably,
Understanding the road to omniscience is tipped
In ego alone--
One must not surrender,rather accept
And work a way round the system.
The cosmic map is eidetic,it's lanuage
dares not pander to speech,
it's sleep is one day needed
and complimentary to our own--
I listen to the madrigal and no longer seek to compose it,
I choose to believe that nothing is chosen.
Aug 21, 2019
Aug 21, 2019 at 3:22 PM UTC
I tried to hide behind my walls of seclusion,
behind beautiful words bound together.
Believing you wouldn't, couldn't see me.
I write the words not because I want to,
but because I have to.
It's my only link to freedom, to reality.
Walking the ghostly hallways of life.
going unnoticed in this big world.
A nobody is all I am,
drowning out all the noise around me.
Moving through days in a zombified stupor,
wanting to break free of the never ending cycle,
but loving the cycle nevertheless.
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 10:13 AM UTC
Remember the day
They took the pain away
And turned us all oxymoron's
Visiting our own graves
The walking dead
Zombified
And to think we thought
They gave us back our lives
Trampled by the pills
That they prescribed
Pay the pusher
The greatest price
It'll be alright
When it's hard to swallow
When that ain't enough
Find an uncaring vain
And start shooting up
Who could have known
They'd throw us the longest curve
When the disease turn out to be
What we thought the greatest cure
Mar 4, 2017
Mar 4, 2017 at 8:18 AM UTC
If you only ever get a glance at one shot at fiery heaven laughter
don't just sit there on your *** thinking now isn't the right time
time is relative so all you have is now
right now
so crack a naysayer in their pearly yellows
because walking around zombified through fields of green and seas of brown
is only one razor blade away from suicide
and I don't want to be insensitive
(yes I do)
but if you walk along the easy road you'll find only cowards
get the hell up
put some ******* pace in your step
drink a gallon of gasoline,
eat a match,
and explode
it's the only way they'll ever see you
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 1:45 PM UTC
Each scar on my wrist has a name, but to keep it secret I’ll list them as letters to avoid giving them the fame:
Q- Quivering lips didn’t keep you from taking my innocence. The horrible sound of my legs clenched and pants unzipped.
D- Depression ruled your life and slowly taught mine the only way to feel is to feel nothing more than unreal.
Z- Zombified eyes made me realize you only wanted what was between my thighs. Objectified and used, it didn’t matter to you.
R- Robbed my heart of just about everything. Unfaithfulness and lack of loyalty led to my mistrusting.
A- Aggression isn’t a sign of affection. To pretend is a hard act but to defend is even harder.
These are the five people that led me to scar, and if they read this, they would know exactly who they are.
Jun 27, 2018
Jun 27, 2018 at 9:11 AM UTC
Its dark in here...
the fear..
of being normal
I cant bare..
Cuz i never been formal
only odd
Seen things
Heard some ****
not the regular
the bodies normally present
When there dead..
See lately i've been
a lil ******
so at night I might go
out to play
cuz I can't stand
the light
from the day..
So you walkers
may call me insane
cuz you cant eat
whats inside my brain..
So I'll just shoot
You in the head
because you already dead
lacing up my combat boots
I loot
and find that I may not be the same
but Im not the one that's found insane
See I'm consciously awake
not in your Zombified state
So while you cope with reality
I'll just keep my sanity....
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 7:53 AM UTC
You may not know me, but I want you to.
It's not vanity; I'm just warning you:
My life's a party, but there's pity too.
'Cuz I've been naughty, and the victim's you.
You see, it's a sea of blood rising to the ceiling
--see me there kneeling?--
Your heads reeling and a-reeling,
But you still think I'm so appealing,
'Cuz the feelings
I've got you feeling
feel like something
from a time that
feels like sometime
back when you used to bask in the sunshine...
BUT IN MY HEAD IT'S NIGHTTIME
And the sun sets in mine, too
You may not like me, and I don't want you to;
Though you know you do!
Your hate sustains me, and that brings pains to you;
You know it's true!
My life's an **** and I'll **** you too;
But not like you want me to!
'Cuz the world's my plaything; and I'll break on through;
With or without you!
It's high-time for a time rift
--a thrift rhyme in a prime shift--
When my crimes make for signs
in the prized eyes of the beast inside.
Check the hour--see my power--as
you come to grips with what rips
you from the inside-out.
Your eyes drop to your watch...
and you watch eyes drop back.
Yes, I'm a monster; not just a spawned cur,
Not 'cause I'm a murderous beast--
not just that, at least--
But because I can see the beast in you,
Then coax it through.
I'm a loner, sure, but to endure eternity alone?
I'd rather spur a fellow cur; to breed more monsters!
And leave the zombified husks in the dirt.
You ask if I'm a monster.
Have you killed?
A ton, sure!
But show me one who hasn't.
It's unpleasant to say the least,
To admit that we're all beasts,
But which one of you has not entertained a murderous thought?
You see that sea of blood
--feel the feelings rising up--
And you dream of all the ways you'd just love to make them scream.
But they were only thoughts, sir! Surely I'm no monster!
Ah, but is harboring the thoughts so much more pure?
The thought's a plot from A-to-C; not felony,
but still... you see?
You see yourself from A-to-C--it's not insanity--
It's humanity; the monster lives inside of WE.
And the scene at C's the essence that they need to breath.
The C-scene you're seein's keepin' you sane, see?
Sure it's off track, but there's no denying solid fact.
It's not wrong to sing along with what's keeping you intact.
Say it with me now:
I'm a monster.
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 2:01 AM UTC
World War this, Critical think that
For what? Me ain' kno no white man struggle.
Might as well be the business of a muggle, juggle
the thoughts leading to actions,
leading to memories,
Of greater things than this chair
this table
this paper.
Yes paper, we all need paper.
Fixes all problems, makes all faker.
All prophesized by a great man, Weber.
See the fornification of men onto women must be of great importance to the survival of a familial structure which opposes the direction humankind pushes societies boundaries.
STOP. I blacked out.
What the **** just came out my spout...
Nonsensical happenings in a blackboard dreamland
Chalk dust monsters attack.
I react.
Evil vampires swoop
Come try to **** my blood
Impossible.
My veins are dry.
Zombified, I am.
I’m sorry teach,
You took it all already.
Feb 16, 2012
Feb 16, 2012 at 11:18 AM UTC
one step one day
love's ecstasy,
a roadkill
losing itself
in the rearview,
in a zombified sway
one day one step
stuttered thrive,
now you will,
now you won't,
oh but the horizon
is a watercolour
and you hold a rainbow
on a string
one step one day
one night
all the way,
you know it,
its lava bubbling,
hollowed in black
one day one step
nothing lays ahead
and it doesn't matter,
your mumbling
was meant to be,
childish like,
learning to walk
failing the fall
one step one day
May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 7:24 PM UTC
Falling in love is more like living in a apocalypse . Love is dead and you was the disease that brought me there. Just like Falling is not a volunteerary action being zombified isn't either. When you broke out of your containment you infected my world and instead of looking for my friends I looked for you. When I saw you, all I wanted was you. Every limb, ligament, and being of you. The more I'm with you the more I change. I'm losing my mind. Day 7, My mind is gone, wait when did I start writing a apocalypse diary. Wait am I talking about falling in love or about becoming one of the walking dead. Day 8 they're both about the same but as long as I got you, my love, my disease I don't care. Day 9, you granted me your full disease the kiss of death. Day 10 I'm fully submerged in you, the sickness, I am you, I've finally landed from my fall to love that was inspired by you but yet I look left and right and you're not in site, you're actually flying high in the sky like I used to be. Day 11, you're no longer circling me from above like my halo. I blame everybody that said you were my vulture cause they never you were frail solution. Day 12 until eternity, I circle the world looking for your reasons or you, but like answers to a custom made quiz on google no results were ever found.
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 11:26 PM UTC