I Sometimes See Dead People

I sometimes see dead people

Oh yes I really do!

And if you look intently

You would see them too.

 

I see them at my work place

The malls and everywhere

They lurk in Government buildings

I see them when I go there.

 

Sometimes they try to trick you

And mess with your head

By pretending to be alive

While actually they are dead.

 

My sister and my cousin too

Are dead as door posts

I pretend I do not know

But I am on to them of course.

 

Yes,  I see dead people

I would never lie to you

And if you don’t believe me

You probably are dead too.

 

 

Author: ME

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Cannibal Brothers From Pakistan

There were two brothers

from Pakistan

Of human flesh they were

Big Fans.

With blood on their beards

These brothers looked weird

As they tear at flesh with their hands.

 

The brothers were never

In a hurry.

Even taking time

To add curry

People feared the worst

When they found missing corpse

And that’s when they started to worry.

 

Now they are both locked up

In jail

With no chance of posting

A bail.

With no bodies to eat

And no more dead meat

They sit and chew on their nails.

 

True story.  Read it here

Haiyan

It was no thriller

in Manila

but it still got attention

Landscapes

Erased

Utter devastation.

A typhoon so big

they called it Haiyan

Worst storm to ever

be seen by humans.

Thousands of lives lost

the ultimate cost

A country destroyed

Like a kid wrecks a toy

But a will cannot be daunted

Rebuilding’s a must

Strength and hope flaunted

In God the people trust.

Interview With The Dead. Pt.II

English: Logo from the television program The ...

English: Logo from the television program The Walking Dead (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

After I interviewed the Dead
Questions remained in my head
Was this thing even really true?
I gave a dead man an interview?
Did I make the whole thing up?
The thoughts kept coming, wouldn’t stop.

I needed to prove it was no dream
And things were indeed as they seemed
So off in search of The Dead I went
From grave to grave, I was hell-bent.
And then I saw him standing there
As if formed right out of thin air.

Hey you Dead fella, long time no see
I hope that you still remember me.
The last interview you and I had
Made me think I was raving mad
My friends and family all laughed at me
Interviewing The Dead?  What a loony!
So tell me mister, are you really dead?
Or just playing weird games with my head?

Buddy, you know that I am for real
No fake here.  I am the real deal.
Sorry your friends and family
Questioned your very sanity
You see I am a walking dead.
So let that sink into your head.

But…But how could this be so?
Explain to me. I want to know
Dead people just don’t walk around.
They stay buried within the ground.
How could you achieve this task?
Is what I really want to ask.

 I do belong deep in the earth
Covered in worms and stinky dirt
How I became a walking dead
I can’t decipher in my head.
So I just cannot explain to you
This zombie walking thing I do.

Well thank you anyhow, Zombie man
I wish that I could understand
But with my two eyes I could see
That indeed you are in front of me
This is my last goodbye to you
Many thanks for the interview.

Please say a prayer for my soul
That it might find rest in this hole
Tell your friends and family
That you are sane as sane could be
And you should write another blog too
Call in Interview With The Dead Part II.

Interview With The Dead Pt.1

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Me:                So you are dead, right? Like totally?

The Dead:  Of course, of course, just look at me

Me:                          But..But that can’t be right!

                             Shouldn’t you only be out at night?

The Dead:     No my friend, things have changed

                           We are now what is called free ranged

Me:                         Can you believe this crazy shit?

                                     This is sure to be a TV hit.

                                    I feel as though I’ve gone insane

                                   Or this is just some silly game.

                                   A dead man right in front of me!

                                    An apparition, a ghost, a damn zombie!

The Dead:            Are you done insulting me?

                                    It’s not a show but reality

                                  I am dead, yes really dead

                                 Just let it sink into your head

Me:                       Of all the crazy things I’ve done

                               This has to be the weirdest one

The Dead:          Why don’t you write a blog post

                               About interviewing me, the ghost?

                              Readers might think it’s cute and funny

                              And maybe it could even earn you money.

Me:                    Dead man, you sure stink up the joint

                            But I admit I do see your point.

                              I will blog about this interview

                            That I had today with you.

                              Maybe someone will be impressed

                            And then I could be Freshly Pressed…

                           Goodbye Mr.  Dead man, see you later, NOT!

                          Rest In  Peace, or should I say ‘rot’?

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When Heroes Fall – The Blade Runner

 

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Up on a pedestal they stand,

Far above it all,

Then one day with a crash,

Our heroes they  fall.

How could it happen?

Such a great man was he.

No way he could have done it!

Please find him ‘not guilty’!

But alas, it is so,

Guilty as charged,

Even if the justice system

Let him stay at large.

Our God has fallen!

Committed a crime!

Now he’s just like us,

A humankind!

But he seemed so incapable

Of such a heinous act.

It’s just not like  him,

He could never attack.

Our heroes are human

Like you and like me.

They are also innocent

Until proven guilty.

But a crime was committed

And soon we will see.

Was our guy a real hero

Or just a forgery?

It’s worth sharing

Musings Of A Daddy

imagesMommy please don’t cry

Or even ask why

I had to die.

And please don’t be sad,

Not everyone’s bad,

No need to get mad.

*                    *                *

We were having fun

Then he came with his gun,

And we started to run.

But mommy it was too late,

For me and my classmates.

He had so much hate.

*                *                     *

He shot again and again

I felt the pain

And cried out in vain.

Then darkness brought sleep,

so sweet and deep

Please mommy, don’t weep.

*                  *                     *

We were practicing Away In A Manger

Never saw the stranger,

No time to yell Danger!

Mommy, I’m so sorry

That I left in a hurry

Please don’t worry.

*                   *                   *

Now I really must go,

But let Dad know

That I love him so.

Tell Grandpa goodbye

And remember, don’t cry

And don’t you ask why

The…

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Escaping Mr. Death

I wrote this poem many years ago while bored at work

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Death came knocking at my door

I watched him from a hole,

I felt his cold and icy stare

Deep down in my soul.

This was oh so very bad.

I was not ready yet.

Just couldn’t go this very day

With dreaded Mr. Death.

He raised his hand to knock once more,

Frowning impatiently.

Knock! knock! knock! knock!

He really wanted me!

I quickly searched around the room

For a place to hide.

Anywhere just to escape

The Grim Reaper outside.

Taking one last glance through the hole,

I saw but could not believe.

The Reaper looked straight at me

Then turned around to leave!

What a lucky man I was that day!

To have avoided death.

I had gotten another chance

To take another breath.

images6

Goodbye Reaper!