Zombie Apocalypse – a poem

It had been sixteen days the zombies first attacked,
the place had been ransacked.
The numbered in the thousand already,
the plague was deadly.
People where shred to pieces,
I lost both my nieces.
Litter covered the abandoned streets,
humanity had accepted lot’s of defeats.
But none so final as this one,
they were working on a vaccine in bunkers,
they were the stars now, to a normal world one hunkers.
But time was running out,
the growling and moaning became loud.
Rifle fire more rare,
they send me out on a dare.
The food supply needed to be replenished.
Two miles through hostile terrain,
to a shopping mall probably plundered.
My duty couldn’t be relinquished,
I moved fast like a train,
the zombies numbered in the hundred.
I evaded them,
but at the store it was mayhem.
Some people had decided to make their last stand,
gun in hand firing away.
I joined in the fray.
Firing my semi automatic.
Things became frantic.
Eventually a small pack was scared off,
there were preys enough.
I found in the mall just one pack of moldy cheese,
and a carton of sour milk.
They thanked me and I left in peace.
I dreamed of a cozy bed made up with silk.
All to drown out the fury my friends would show,
spirits were already low.
Maybe we got food poisoning,
that would make us go a couple of days without food.
Rationing would be senseless,
my fellow companions were a bunch that were up to no good.

Noise – a poem

Everyday he beat his drums,
from 3 A.M. till 6.
Neighbors didn’t stand it,
they signed a petition to get him out.
The police became a frequent visitor of our building.
It soon became clear the nuisance wouldn’t go away.
Believe me, he was a great drummer,
but his timing sucked.
I started to get late for work,
my boss became inquisitive,
I told him of my problem.
‘Just wear earbuds,’ he suggested.
I tried some on the next night,
the sound became bearable.
The next morning burglars had cleaned out my apartment.
I slept through it all like a baby.

More than she could handle – a short story

Jenny took a hard step. She hired a private investigator to know what her husband was up to. Working overtime had gone on for months now and at the firm they had said he did leave at a normal hour.

The private eye was one of the best. Stanlely didn’t notice he got tailed. He went in into a sleazy motel. The investigator smelled his prey committing his final mistake and took out his camera.
Nothing happened. A beautiful looking woman left the motel. No Stanley in sight. Could it be she was already in the motel before him? He needed a picture of both of them in action or he wouldn’t get payed.

This went on for several weeks. Frustration took hold of the private eye. At one moment he barged in and asked the clerk in which room Stanley was staying. They knew of course nobody going by that name.
‘Hi, Stacey, looking great, hun,’ the clerk said with a wink.
The private eye turned around and saw the woman with a shock of recognition. It was Stanley alright. He didn’t had an affair after all. But a secret to keep he had for sure.

Lecture – a poem

The lecture about the dangers of smoking,
about people croaking
from a cancerous tumor,
was brought with zero humor.
In an old, moldy, cold auditorium,
where you could catch a pneumonia.
The lecturer lighted a cigarette during recess,
a hypocrite, I must confess.
It’s so hard to quit he said in his defense,
don’t go around talking about it then I mumbled to his offense.

Balanced – about life

I never really think about how vulnerable I am. If the pharmacist hasn’t got my pills in stock for a while it sinks in. Usually she has replacements. But it’s always an anxious moment to figure out if they will work as good as the old ones. You wouldn’t suspect in a country like Belgium this could happen.

But it’s pretty common. There are patients with Crohn’s disease, something very painful at your intestines who couldn’t get any proper medication for a while.

I am afraid of a global war breaking out. Supplies will run out. With all these cities in need of food and water it would be an utter disaster. That’s why I hope Russia will back off soon. But they are bend on committing even more war crimes.

I ask myself which line will have to be crossed before the Western World comes into action.

In any case I am thankful on a daily basis I still have my medication keeping me relatively sane.

Wedding – a poem

I fell in a pit,
was an hour late to the ceremony.
My soon to be married was furious,
I forgot to appoint a best man,
there were no wedding vows.
I even had my tuxedo on in a crooked way.
The thing was I paid the stripper extra,
to spend the night at my place.
I forget to set the alarm,
after a night of coke and rum,
I wasn’t up to much good.
I forget to say “yes, I want to marry you.”
For better and for worse seemed to be for worse at the beginning.
The cook was a sadist,
he offered us inedible food.
The guests complained,
they wanted back their presents.
When it was time for the opening dance,
I was liquored up,
I stood on my wife’s gown and made her drop.
I got divorced the same day.
There not many people who can say that.
Life is about accomplishments,
and sure I did accomplish a lot.

Sitting – a poem

Sitting is the new smoking, I read.
It made me sad,
because it is my favorite pass time.
I wouldn’t budge for a bottle of whine,
and I am an alcoholic,
it’s all nice to be active and frolic.
But it all just gets you sweat,
a quick-beating heart.
Movement I dread,
from the very start.
Madam, your child is fat.
But, doctor, he is eating like a cat.
Well, then he must catch an awful lot of mouses.
My mother left in anger, you know how that goes with overprotective spouses.
I read another thing. We all gave a limited supply of oxygen.
It made me sing, being lazy was very healthy then.
And all that time my veins got clogged up,
belly grew to enormous size,
I continued to fill to the brim with sugar my teacup,
I got head lice,
but I did let hem fester,
I wouldn’t seek treatment, doctors that would pester me,
to get in shape, wanted a sports subscription to see.
I died at 48, a nice age,
life is nothing as being trapped in a meaty cage.