Saturday, June 20, 2009

Portrait of the Zombie in Classic American and English Poetry

I have decided to jump on the literary zombie bandwagon. Zombies are hot right now and I intend to cash in. So keep an eye out for my book, Portait of the Zombie in Classic American and English Poetry, forthcoming probably in 2011.

Here are some excerpts:

Fire and Ice and Zombies

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I've tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor zombies.

For zombies perish not once but twice,

I think I know enough about survival

To say that for destruction

Fighting in a zombie apocalypse

Is pretty great

And would suffice.

This is Robert Frost, possibly America's greatest poet. He also was a wife-beater, so I have no qualms about making some creative changes to his poetry.


Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth

Then took the other as just as fair

And having perhaps the better claim

Because it was grassy and wanted wear

And there were fewer zombies lurking there

Other than that, time had worn them really about the same.

(You get the general idea.)

Let's make this a collaborative project! Please submit your classic American or English zombie poem below. Those who become followers of Holly Goes Lightly will get a cut of the royalties. This book is sure to be a smashing success.


Anonymous said...

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Zombie anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack functional firearms, while the zombies
Are full of passionate intensity.

N.D. said...

So much depends

A Stihl

Glazed with undead

Poor substitute for a

-With HUGE apologies to William Carlos Williams

Bianca said...

Because I could not stop for death
He kindly stopped for me.
The carraige held but just ourselves
and immortality.

And, I must mention, zombies three
Who, gleeful, rode along --
O'ertaken but unstopped by death
they filled the air with song.

They sang of brains delightful
Fresh, pickled, and from a can.
And so I bade the carriage stop,
kicked off my shoes, and ran.

Anonymous said...

I would convert The Lady of Shalott, but I'm feeling rather lazy.

I think this is a wonderful idea!

Sassypants said...

Zombie Song (a.k.a. Fairy Song)

The moonlight fades from flower and rose
And the stars dim one by one;
The tale is told, the song is sung,
And our Zombie feast is never done.
The night-wind rocks the sleeping humans,
And sings to them, soft and low.
The hungry zombies erelong will stalk:
'T is time for the humans to go.

O'er the sleeping earth we silently pass,
Unseen by mortal eye,
And send sweet death, as we swiftly bite
Through the quiet moonlit sky;--
For the stars' soft eyes alone may see,
And those who survive alone may know,
The feasts we hold, the tales we tell;
So't is time for the humans to be our feast.

From body, and body, and body,
We learn the treats they quench;
And seek, by selfish deeds, to win
A yummy fresh human flesh.
And though unseen on earth we dwell,
Sweet voices whisper low,
And zombies hearts most joyously eat
The humans where'er they go.

When next we meet in the Zombie towns,
May the silver moon's soft light
Shine then on faces bloody as now,
And human hearts as light.
Now spread each body, for the eastern sky
With sunlight soon shall glow.
The fiery blazes shall light us as we roam:
Farewell! for the humans must go.

Much gratitude and apologies
to Louisa May Alcott

Holly said...

We are off to a phenomenal start. I am duly impressed with these submissions. But we need more! Tell your friends! Let's get this thing done, people!

Louisa May Alcott, also rolling over in her grave. LOVE IT.