by Marc Gunn, September 15, 2004

I started this song with a melody that was sorta 50s-ish with one of those ancient themes of man coming to meet his lover in the middle of the night to sweep her away. Then, I thought it be much more entertaining if that lover was a zombie! Course, I already forgot the melody.

I heard a shuffle,
Outside my window
I knew it must be my true love
You said you'd come, to visit me
By light of moon (by light of moon).

The moon it glistened
Outside my window
As you crunched down on a tree branch
Be silent love, lest you might wake
My parents from sleep (parents from sleep).

I saw your eyes
Outside my window
They were not like the starlit gems
That I once knew, I hope you're not through
With loving me (with loving me).

I heard you groaning
Outside my window
I saw you turn, and smile at me
It seemed a smile at least until
Your jaw fell off (your jaw fell off).

I heard you whisper
Outside my window
Oh those sweet words, I Iong to hear
I think you said, "Braaaainnns" or perhaps it was,
"Come my love to me!" (my love to me!)

I ran to greet you
Outside my window
Your breathe was a little foul
A little mouthwash will do small wonders
To make kisses sweet (make kisses sweet)

I felt you embrace me
Outside my window
And then you ripped my head right off
I was surprised to say the least
If that's love to thee (that's love to thee)

How it annoyed me
Outside my window
So my right arm took its revenge
It ripped off your head and then danced
Our Zombie Tango (our Zombie Tango).

by Marc Gunn, 9/22/2004

I went back to the doctor today for the next round of prescription meds to help me overcome the residual cough left over from my infection a couple weeks ago.

The mind is spinning around like a whirling dervish.
Racing. It's spastic. Thanks Monsieur Prednisone
And the neverending drama of psy-chronic sinusitis.

I long for a moment or two of mental peace
When I'm not obsessing about my imperfections.
A huge magnifying glass is staring at me
I can barely blink to see back
At the brobdingnagian eye, bloodshot and aching.

I'm tired of bitching about it. I'm exhausted from coughing.
My eyes want to shut and pass into a narcoleptic sleep
Until my disposition is a bit cheerier,
And I'm ready to be friendly again.

Instead, I'm left floating in space-i-ness
With synthesized lights flashing little tendrils of hypnotic insulin
Insulated within my own self-dissatisfaction and that of my peers.

Meanwhile, the ethereal hugs, kisses, and cuddles
Of non-existant friendships float by me.
I can only watch and mourn their passing
While I patiently search for the four leaf clover beneath the tree
With the wind blowing through the leaves
Through the grass
Across the Texas hill country
And far away into a sea of impatient kisses
That chase me away
From my own holistic fears.

by Marc Gunn, Sept 12, 2004

I was contacted by a musician recently who's narrow-minded opinions sparked this.

Musical ignorance
You're afraid to listen, learn, and enjoy something new.
You judge music instead of learning from it.
You profess your musical superiority
  While children play crop circles around your arrogance.
Your creativity extends to the compositions you steal.
"Sure," you say, "everyone does that."
But it is Your only "true" art form.

So the question remains--
Will your musical dominance
Allow you to continue making music,
Or will your narrow-mindedness
Yield a Big Bang of notes and instruments
To awaken in you your own musical ignorance?

by Marc Gunn, Sept 15, 2004

There was live music out behind the Texas Union that inspired this wee poem.

Angels and demons in motion,
Waves of electric guitar
And erratic breathes of moist air.
Song after song in pointless repetition
While people ebb in time.

An angel rubs her eye.
Gold Hispanic skin in a white t-shirt,
She brushes away sensual curls
Of oaken bark colored hair
That leave a trail of young demons
Wandering up concrete trails
To a towering pillar of Texas masculinity.

by Marc Gunn, July 1998

I wrote this poem several years ago inspired in part by love of Dungeons & Dragons and in part by my young, passionate view of love.

Throw back your neck for the vampire.
The sire will drain you of your needs.
He'll bleed away some grand design
That you were meant for less than sunshine.

There's a silky screen on blue night.
I am you knight. You're my damsel.
Your towering walls I will climb.
Love will lower its defenses over time.

And then you run into my arms
I'm understandably charmed.
But when you run into my life,
I come alive...
I'm alive.
I'm so alive.

The memory of flowers lingers in your eyes.
I survive by knowing the rhythm of your breath.
The way you hold me close when you cry,
I know we'll be together until we die.

And then you run into my arms
I'm understandably charmed.
But when you run into my life,
I come alive...
I'm alive.

And then you run into my arms
I'm uncontrollably charmed.
But when you run into my life,
I come alive...
I'm alive.
I'm so alive.

by Marc Gunn, September 9, 2004

I was watching Il Postino yesterday and found myself inspired by the movie and recent thoughts on travel and Italy. It yielded this poem.

The sea, the stars, the sky,
The earth, the sand,
The world is a metaphor
For something else,
And that 'something else'
Is a metaphor for the world.

I know this to be true.
Ask a postman.

But sometimes to see, to hear, to feel,
To truly experience that metaphor
You must view life from a different direction,
Because the grass IS always greener on the other side.

Thus, you must either change your mind
To imagine being on the other side of the fence,
Or,
Climb the fence.

I'm not sure which is bolder,
Or which is more creative.

But for me,
I want to climb over the fence.
I want to look at the world
From a vagrant's eyes,
To fall in love with destiny
By standing outside the window peeking in,
Like a Peeping Tom with his Godiva,
Though much more fulfilling
Than a simple lust for flesh.

Only then, I fear,
Will I find restitution of my memories
And truly release the poet
That harbours patiently in my soul.