'Pocalypse Poetry--All 30 Poems!

I had a blast participating in the 'Pocalypse Poetry Challenge for Steem-Pocalypse run by @hopehuggs, @novaatebatman and @superbuckles. The challenge was to a write a poem based on or inspired by each day's Steem-Pocalypse post by @papa-pepper. I am happy to say I didn't miss a day, and wrote a total of 30 poems for this challenge!

I wrote them all from the perspective of someone living in that world, so when I died in-game, my character became a ghost and continued experiencing the world that way. Eventually she becomes something else. What follows is my entire series of poems written for this challenge. Enjoy!

Fannie’s Flowers

Holed up in the apartment, it was easy to pretend
I had a few books and I read them over and over and over
Over
Over
Over
No--too easy to go down that rabbit hole
Lewis Carroll lived and wrote once and now he’s dead
I’m alive and that means I can still create, can still be

Be present, be focused, be brave
Maybe I should have opened the door and said,
“Welcome, stranger, enter and be a friend!
Have you read 50 Shades of Grey? Drivel, quite right
you are, ha ha! But entertaining, nonetheless.”
But I don’t talk like that
and people today don’t talk
at all

I wonder if my vocal chords still work
Too dangerous to test
in this burned out “Fannie’s Flowers”
I hope you made it out, Fannie,
mostly for selfish reasons
I don’t want to see another corpse
Another reminder that I might be alive today
but dead today

Survival

I’m still aliiiiive!
And now I have knive-

s! Okay, one knife.

The songs one makes up in one’s head
when one worries one could be dead

any minute

are not that great. But who am I to judge?
Well, I’m all there is. And I may be a curmudg-

eon,

but I’m working for an audience of one, here,
so cut me some slack, dear.

I’m worried.

About my sanity, about that truck,
about those guns, about my luck.

Who does that?

No one’s that careless, unless they’re dead,
or trying to mess with my head.

Either way,

I don’t want to stay in this place.
I’m running; let’s pretend it’s a race

and go.

Hope

Interesting how hope can drive
me to do or not do
Where hope is greater
possibility of disappointment
also looms

Fear of disappointment
trumps possibility of hope
fulfilled
Fucking
coward

Cowardice has kept me
companion and alive
So I shouldn’t consider it
a slur
But I do

Habits are hard to break

Shoop

These end times
bring out the worst.
There she stood,
a person with whom
I could converse.
Finally find out
if I still work.

I swear, I stared, she was
my witness, and oh god
I remember having that
whole song memorized,
dancing around in our living
(we had a whole room for living)
room in our underwear

I walked away.
Then is not like today.

A lonely sonnet dissolved

I walked away
Did make no friend
I did not stay
And try to mend
My poor frayed mind
And lonely soul
Was she unkind?
I’ll never know
Now I move on
I’ll search this shop
The people gone
No place to stop
But worth a look
Before I book
it out of here, out of this town, out on my own into the wild where at least I can pretend I chose to be alone, like the girl in Wild, soul-searching, finding myself, like literary heroines do

To be human

In the distance I see a figure
now armed with a light
I have a bold streak
or I’m that much lonelier
or that much stupider

But with trusty light by my side
(and knife tucked away)
and maybe still regretting
walking away from that
not-unfriendly-voice

I choose to trust
I choose to approach
I must not MUST
not lose myself
And my self was, is, human

Home

I miss it
Getting lost in daydreams
Memories
Gardening with Mee-Mee

This plant makes me think of a Slurpee
which feels silly
but also fills me with hope
a sense of normalcy

Another person collecting it
Just two gardeners
Harvesting
Like back home

Feeling Fine

Derring-do how do you do
There was a time I’d google you
But now I’ll make up as I please
An explanation--it’s from Belize!

A lack of history makes me bold
All new stories to be told
I could be anyone to this dude
He could be a bear hidden in a snood

That’s just silly, but I’m just giddy
Feeling fine and oh so pretty
I got a buddy by my side
We won’t be killed by some dumb rock slide!

So bring it on, world, I’m fine and fat
No cannibal made me into a hat
Out of the city, on to the trail
Ever hopeful I will not fail

Appendages

Maybe we’re foolhardy.
Lucky in meeting one another,
feeling lucky
with a dude with a chainsaw.
Maybe not the best idea.

But I’m sick of not trusting.
Mistrust is one of the ills
that led us here.
Cannibalizing one another.
A physical manifestation
of a societal, spiritual sickness.

Still, getting killed
by a chainsaw
is probably horrific.
Certainly for an onlooker,
and one of us would have to.

Two. We are two.
He is one and a half.
(I count the chainsaw as a half life.)
We could take him
and win over the chainsaw.
A little pet of our own.

Thankful (an acrostic)

The bearded man was good to us,
he gave us quite a book.
A guide to greens and other things,
no menace in his look.
Keep on, he said, do not
forget, we’re all just here to share.
Until we meet again, he said,
luck to you as a pair.

Longhorn

It is nice to know that some animals
will do just fine if all their former caretakers
murder one another or starve to death.

It gives me some peace to know that
life carries on. We humans are the best
destroyers of life. Still, I want to eat them,
these cows. I can imagine myself slitting one’s throat.
The blood dripping warm over my fingers,
the life oozing out. I did say we were the best.

The meat would taste so luxurious, so decadent.
It almost seems worth the risk.
Almost.
Not quite.
I can also imagine myself gored through the gut,
my life oozing out warm on my fingers.

Poison

It’s hard to live in the present
when comfort is the memory of the past.
Pretty mushroom?
Ugly mushroom.
I wish
I could believe
I were Alice.
I wish I could believe
we might have a real nice
trip and escape
the present.

When will this
become the new normal?
Do I have to forget
the past? Maybe dismiss
it as a dream.
Maybe I can convince
connive
con
myself
it was the nightmare
this is the gift.

Nighttime Prayer

If I should die before I wake,
I pray to Freya my soul to make
into a spirit wandering wide,
so I may see the earth abide.

I should like to float above
the misery and struggles of
the ones who linger in this hell;
the cannibals in self-made cells.

For I believe if they had souls,
they’ve sold them and are left with holes.
If one takes us in the night,
we won’t go down without a fight.

But first we’ll try to make a friend--
perhaps a soul that we can mend.
Yet if I die, I hope I stay
to haunt whom took my life away.

Tethered

I saw the snake spirit passing on,
going somewhere I can’t have gone.
Animal heaven, I guess.
I didn’t pass muster with the rest.
Maybe there’s something I can do
to eventually get beyond the blue.

I guess I’d eat it, if I could.
Choke it down, head under hood.
Cooked, of course, only way to eat garter.
Good thing we had a magnesium fire starter.
I wonder what happened to our stuff?
Hope someone’s using it, but not the one that killed us.
He’ll go to hell, if I have my say.
Maybe that’s why I’m stuck here today.

Water makes me think of drowning

Water is life giving and life taking
Strange
Strange how we can’t live without it
but too much
inhaled the wrong way
too full of bacteria
means death

I was always a little afraid of water
Afraid of the deep end
Afraid of losing touch with the ground
Now I have no touch, only floating
No breathing means no drowning
and that
at least
is a small relief

Target Practice

It would be neat
as this floating being
to pluck bullets out of the air
wave ‘em round like I just don’t care

I’d send them back to their source
drop them at their feet
It seems I’m losing my taste
for revenge. Losing my haste

I’d like to see everyone succeed
live to raise families
make the world a better place
leave behind these months, years, of disgrace

Don’t run in plain view
they’ll get you, get you

Upsy Daisy

I’m adjusting to this unlife;
grateful I have no more strife.
My limbs don’t itch. I don’t have limbs.
I’m free to follow my fancy floating whims.

I found a fun trick.
I was thinking about the crick
behind my parents’ house,
where I used to see grouse.

All the sudden, there I was,
insects everywhere making a buzz.
Afraid to find my parents dead,
In an instant I was here instead.

Back near where I died,
to follow others, watch them hide,
hunt, eat, suffer, cry,
and always, always continue to try.

Like a Fly

There is a spider nearby
just waiting
watching
wondering

Maybe it thinks it’s hiding
but I see it
waiting
wondering

There is a figure ahead
in my way
watching
wondering

I’ll stop and see what happens
watch the watcher
waiting
wondering

This might be a trap
lay in wait like a spider
watching
wondering

Rest in Peace

That’s me yelling
“Can’t we all just get along?”
but no one can hear me
no one knows my song

If they do, they’ll die
of this I feel certain
no one should be that bold
or for them it’s the curtain

If ghosts felt tired
I’d be long gone
no more thirst for revenge
I’d like to pass on

Be at peace
in heaven or nowhere
Earthworm, I’m yours
there’s plenty to share

'Splode

Don't trip them wires, you bound to 'splode
It's a bomb for sure, you 'bout to be toad
Road kill, smooshed flat
Like a pancake of a cat
Help you if I could, if I thought I should
If I thought you were smart
Not dense like a cart
Carrying wood, flammable wood!
Start a fire, that's real good
Look what you did
You careless kid
Burn this planet down
Don't you care about the town
Of ants and rats and live kitty-cats
Down the road, by the toad?

Breathing

I ate a poisonous plant once--
made my mouth feel thick and
make extra saliva. Thought
my throat might close
and wouldn’t that be
an awful way to die?

Never wanted to die of drowning.
The thought
of not being able to breath
always seemed like
the worst way to die.

I almost never went to
the deep end
because of it. I knew
how to swim but
didn’t trust
my arms.

Going quick, aside from a
full life, was the best
way to die. No lasting pain,
no suffering, no
asphyxiation.

Communion

Mostly we’ve encountered men
on this survival journey
turned afterlife examination.
Where are the women?
Better at hiding?
Less confrontational?
Dead like me?

If all humans died
in this apocalypse,
then a few new ones sprouted
out of the bones and ashes
of the dead,
could we be better?
Do better.

Love one another.
Care for the planet.
Lift each other up.
Live with just enough.

Forget about Adam and Eve.
Consider yourself a plant grown from a seed.

Fade Away

There are so many books
that exist in the world.
(At least, there used to be
before the libraries were burned
and the bookstores ransacked.)

Down the street I’d walk,
pop up the stairs into the stacks,
grab a hardback about medicinal plants
and BOOM BOOK voila!
Magic answers at my fingertips.

All the knowledge of the world,
yet computers couldn’t save us.
We wander and haunt the earth,
a bygone product of a former boom,
while Mother Nature blooms
her poisons and her cures.

Let’s fade out now, humanity.
There are fairies and sprites
that can bring us back to life,
maybe,
Maybe.

The mundanity of being a ghost

No more hunger anymore,
so these turkeys aren’t so appealing.
I want to watch them run free,
not away from gunfire, squealing.

Do turkeys squeal?
I guess I’m thinking of pigs.
I’d go hog-wild
to see my new digs.

Heaven, that is, or even hell.
A permanent end.
If I can’t have my life
then from life I’d be rend.

It’s becoming torture
to just watch and not act.
I should go back to the cave,
sneak in like a bat.

Plead with the fairies,
“Take me, I’m yours!”
To feel pain as they hit me,
watch my skin grow sores.

That would be joy!
It would make me feel alive.
It’d be better than this,
not surviving, to survive.

Fairy Ring

Now I see fairies everywhere.
Am I losing my mind?
Do I have a mind?
Maybe this is how I fade
away. I stop recognizing
the me that is.
I become randomness.

But this is not random.
It is a fairy ring.
Once, I knew
that it was not magic,
before I knew
that there was magic.

I was an atheist
yet I am still here.
Now what am I?
A spore.
Less than a spore.
I wish to become a spore.

Predator

Beautiful bear!
I’d play dead
if I weren’t dead
just to watch
smell
feel your hot breath
holding my own breath
hoping my pounding heart
wasn’t as loud to you
as it was to me.

I’d like to touch you
dig my fingers
into your fur
see if it’s soft or coarse.

Funny how now
I want to feel fear again.

Reincarnivoration

So this is how it works.
Interesting.
Hard to put into grrrwords.
Pulsating
blood coursing
smelling so good.
Mama finds food
for us,
like a good mama should.

My heart, brother bear!
You know it's my favorite part.

What is happening?
I'm eating a human.
That bear's my mother,
this one, my brother.

I wasn't always like this,
but I don't know what I was.
Mmm, fresh meat,
bloody claws and jaws.

This kill's the best one yet.
I smell it stronger
taste it better
feel the heat of life
like never before.
I must be getting smarter
wiser
older
Bolder.

I learn from Mama
and I watch.
I know these humans,
know they're easy to catch.
Watch out for guns,
for ones like @bmwaso and @modnar--
that I'll never forget.
But watch out, humans,
I'm a formidable threat.