Tuesday Poem: Zombie Apocalypse Now

Sorry, running a bit late, was half way through a post yesterday and got distracted by bright shiny thing...that's what happens when you're doing trying to put together a mash up poem, but as I always say, it must be Tuesday somewhere... 

Zombie Apocalypse Now

It's a battle for hearts and brains
sure, there's a giant zombie blowout, with entrails flying
hands bursting through spines
and rotting flesh
but playing with dead things just doesn't seem as fun
in post-zombie America.

And it's a metaphor
you can poke a gun at
a world overrun by infected zombies

defending human freedom against the Musically Undead
(or any other undead for that matter)

Time to employ the double tap
a useful weapon against the zombie horde
or will they rise again?
maybe it would be more ethical
to train a zombie and keep it as a pet?

poem by various people with zombie blurbs 
compiled by A.J Ponder


This all came from a stray, I hesitate to say brainless thought that crossed my mind as a marketing strategy.  Convoluted, and probably insensible reasoning is below, but for the more sane members of my audience now's a good time to discover all the fantastic poems on the Tuesday Poem blog
Enjoy!

A.J. :)



"Why Book Publishers Need to Think Like Amazon" talked about branding, but what it didn't talk about the downside of Amazon's shady employment practices, and cutthroat business model.  But it did get me to wondering that if branding was going to be the number 1 focus of publishers, and that maybe small brands focussing on one type of novel might actually find their own little niches in the market.  And given the Zombie craze doens't seem to be collapsing any time soon: Zombie Apocalypse Now, seemed a great imprint for the proposed model.

Apologies, Tuesday was greatly missed - unlike this piece of Vogon Poetry

I know it's very nearly almost Friday - but I do want to apologise to all my regular readers for not managing my usual weekly post on Tuesday.  Not even a piece of fluff.

The people who know me will have heard that my son is having a tough time at the moment.  Well, last weekend and through to Tuesday were scary bad.  Fortunately for no apparent reason at all he's been better the last couple of days, but I've got to the point where my brain can't do much more than make it through the day.  So please excuse the "wibble"  and contemplate the vagaries of the universe, but let me assure you - normal service will be resumed as soon as I figure out what normal is....

In the meantime...

Oh freddled gruntbuggly,

Thy micturitions are to me,

As plurdled gabbleblotchits,

On a lurgid bee,

That mordiously hath bitled out,

Its earted jurtles,

Into a rancid festering confectious inner-sphincter. [drowned out by moaning and screaming]

Now the jurpling slayjid agrocrustles,

Are slurping hagrilly up the axlegrurts,

And living glupules frart and slipulate,

Like jowling meated liverslime,

Groop, I implore thee, my foonting turling dromes,

And hooptiously drangle me,

With crinkly bindlewurdles,

Or else I shall rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon,

See if I don't.

by a Vogon (Jeltz)
an extract from Douglas Adam's, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

So Don't Panic :) and have a great TGIF and weekend, and hope to catch you all next Tues...

cheers, 

A.J.

A.J. Ponder's books are available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, Paper Plus and good Wellington bookstores.

Tuesday Poem - Hijacked

.
I have a song in my head
insistent as waves on the shore
I have a song in my head
no room for a brain any more

I have a song in my head
musak for the merry go round
I have a song in my head
every beat as my feet hit the ground

I have a song in my head
and it's wearing my patience away...

There's a song in my head
And the sea wont shut up
There's a song in my head
And I can't shut the door
There's a song in my head
Every thought now long dead
There's a song in my head
but I don't care anymore

A..J. Ponder - author page

ok warning. Next week there will almost certainly be swearing. I was thinking I could simply take out the stronger language, and I did manage to remove one. Oh, and last week I forgot to thank Tim, I don't think I could have created Ecila without our little conversation about rhyme :)

P.S. if you find your brain has been hijacked by this poem, I do not promise to give it back. Certainly mine has failed yet to return.