Night of the Restful Dead

orange plastic bucket
Photo by rawpixel.com on Pexels.com

 

Night of the Restful Dead

Halloween, when the dead don’t walk,
The wraiths don’t keen and the sprites don’t stalk,
The shades don’t slink, nor devils prowl,
The vamps don’t drink, nor werewolves howl.

Halloween, when the dead stay dead,
The walls aren’t green and the sheets aren’t red,
And physics’ laws still reign supreme,
We’ve got no cause, yet still we scream.

Halloween, when the ghoul-less roam,
Or sleep serene in their haunt-less homes;
We walk this night with carefree airs,
And won’t take fright, nor whisper prayers.

Halloween, when the kids raise Hell –
It’s always been within their spell –
They may look gaunt, but fake their gore –
They only haunt from door-to-door.

Halloween, when the pumpkins smile,
And folks convene in a gothic style –
With tongue-filled cheeks and boozy breath,
They dress as freaks and laugh at Death.

Halloween, when the graves aren’t stirred,
The ghosts aren’t seen nor the banshees heard.
Yet still we fret by thinking dumb
When we forget how far we’ve come.

Halloween, when the mind plays tricks,
And the silver screen gives us frights for kicks.
For this one night, let’s dig suspense;
Just don’t lose sight of our common sense.

 

 

Into the Future, Shambling and Mumbling

Star Wars Zombies
Star Wars Zombies by Fredrik Edén

 

Into the Future, Shambling and Mumbling

Lookit all you zombies, living lives like you was thinking –
But I know you’re just the puppets to the Codebooks in the sky.
Lookit all you androids – yeah, you don’t fool me by blinking;
Cos I know you’re really dummies – and the suck is, so am I !
Ev’ry single doll of us is following the Script
With its plot for ev’ry atom all controlled in all its jazz:
Gotta keep ’em tight in line, you can’t have strays or space-time’s ripped,
And then how can the Future come to pass like it already has ?
Of course, it’s all that Albert’s fault:
Him and his flash equation.
Had to open up the vault,
Loose the tachyon invasion.
Had to prove, and quite routine,
His theory for the time machine.
And whoops, he’s sent our free will sinking.
Hello zombie.  Goodbye thinking.

Now when it comes to sci-fi, I can take a little licence –
Like your artificial gravity – we know all that’s all bunk;
And beaming-down and warp-speed – well, the concepts have entice-ence:
We all so want to so believe, like any cyberpunk.
But daddy of them all, be it phone-box or DeLorean,
Is scorching up the past when it ain’t so dead and gone.
Sticking-up two fingers to the know-it-all historian,
And making sure our parents got to meet and get it on.
But don’t you see the problem here ?
The Future is already there –
And all we do must all adhere
To make it happen right and square.
So ev’ry choice is just a lie
We’re ruled by Codebooks in the sky
We’re puppets with our choices stripped
We’re zombies to the Master Script.

Unless, of course, old Albert’s wrong, and time is just a line instead –
Then could in fact causality, just like us zombies, be undead ?

 

 

Bless You, Dammit !

Garden of Earthly Delights
detail from the Hell panel of The Garden of Earthly Delights by Hieronymus Bosch

 

Bless You, Dammit !

Save a place for me in Hell
Should you get there first.
Get the drinks in, anyhow,
And find a joke or two to tell,
Dress up in your fine attire,
(There’s not much point in skimping now.)
Cos soon I’ll hit that lake of fire
With a raging thirst.

Save a place for me in Hell
Cos I don’t believe;
Just like many cohorts swell,
Who lived it good and lived it well.
I reckon it can’t be so bad,
When friends like these are those who dwell.
It sure ain’t Heaven, so be glad –
And raise a toast to Eve.