Today we are appreciating poetry. Welcome to my nightmare.

I’m going to go ahead and give a pre-warning here that this post is all about zombies. Mostly because my family reads this blog and I don’t want to unintentionally freak anyone out with a seemingly morose and death-focused poem. Especially not after the post before this one where I was all ‘ugh dark depression’.

So yeah. Zombies.

So. This is a Mary Elizabeth Frye poem that was written in 1932.

Aside from it being kind of a beautiful sentiment and philosophy for dealing with loss, with a catchy rhythm to it…

Does anyone else think that this might be about zombies?

Or horror movie serial killers? You know? The ones that ‘die’ and then BAM there they are the next night, continuing their reign of terror, while the police and responsible adults are all ‘lalala life is good’ and all there irresponsible and horny teenage sons and daughters are running around being slaughtered?

Yeah. Because I do. And, I mean, I’m not sure how many zombie movies were around in 1932 in Baltimore, America, but I think Frye was definitely channeling some horror genre here.

I mean if I came across this poem in regards to a presumed dead person? I’d be going in search of my axe. I am not there? Dudes? We have a zombie on our hands. And if zombie movies have taught me anything, it’s that you don’t hesitate when it comes to arming yourself when you come across an empty coffin that should definitely NOT be empty.

I am a thousand winds that blow? Good Gah. Upgrade the threat level to Vampire. Someone go fetch me a stake and some freaking holy water. Everyone knows you don’t screw around with vampires. They’ll rip out your throat faster than a crazy circus clown with  taste for human flesh.

I am the swift uplifting rush… of fear. I mean come on. Is there anything more uplifting that the feeling that you’re no longer alone? Better yet, you’re female, wearing stupid lingerie-style PJ’s, it’s after midnight, and the phone keeps ringing and cutting off. Yeah, I’d be feeling pretty damn uplifted too. I’d be all uplifting myself to the nearest church surrounded by armed men, and huge impenetrable walls.

Quiet birds circled flight? Is anyone else thinking vultures? Or crowes? Ravens, anyone? Yes? In any case, looking up to see a sky full of silent birds? Circling slowly overhead? Yeah, that can’t be a good thing. That’s something movies have taught me – the animals know first. If they aren’t already in on it – ZOMBIE CROW anyone?

And that final line? I am not there. I did not die. Good gah. Is there a creepier way to end a poem? That’s a total sequel alert. Like, ‘Yay the crazed pedophile killer is dead… or is he?’ Answer: No. No he is not. He is hiding under your bed, waiting for you to sleep. And then? Then he’s going to get all tortured poet on your ass. With knives.

And this? This is why I’m not allowed to watch horror movies anymore.

And that was poetry appreciation Monday with LP. (My old high school english teacher is shaking his head in horror right now.) 

Duhpreshun

Image by Matt Dawson, Freelance Illustrator

I’ve been watching slam poetry lately on YouTube – I have a ton of favorites.

This week’s favorite, though, really speaks to me. It’s called Duhpreshun, and it’s written and performed by Marty Schoenleber III.

I can’t embed the video here, but you can check it out here: Clickety Click. And I highly recommend you do check it out.

What really gets to me about this poem, is how it begins “Some days you eat the bear, some days the bear eats you.” The phrase is used often – I think it may have christian origins, which makes sense, as the poem was written by a christian dude, and refers to god, the bible and religion at a couple of points.

Personally, the religion stuff doesn’t speak to me, but the words he uses to describe his battle with depression? That does in a very big way.

Depression is my bear. Some days, some hours, some weeks I beat it. Some I don’t.

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Liking the slam poetry, but not the subject matter? I can recommend a few others that get me snapping my fingers:

Jellyfish – by Andrea Gibson
There’s a higher quality version, but I really like this one, because she has a bit of a chat at the beginning, which gives you a nice insight into the person who wrote the poem. I love this one because of the use of words, and I love the recording because something about it being done in front of an audience makes it more approachable.

You Move Me -Gina Loring
This poem moves me. It’s written for members of the ‘fatherless tribe’. Thankfully I’m not of that tribe, but I connect with this. It’s short, Sweet, and heartfelt.

‘Drunk Text Message to God’ – George Watsky
I love this. It makes me giggle. Actually? I love most of this dudes poems.
Generally, I’m not really fond of the whole religion thing, so it’s nice to see religion treated with levity. “I love manatees.”

Pretty – Katie Makkai
A lot of people will have already seen this, Gala Darling posted about it a long time ago.
This poem starts slow but ends with one hell of a bang. It has impact, and makes perfect sense to me. I’d like to internalise this message, and make it my new mascot. I’d like to live my life by this poem.