Friday, 2 May 2025

Four Poems by Peter Kaczmarczyk

 






 

The Littlest Zombie

 

She was so pretty in a flower print dress 

I didn’t really notice the rusty stains 

I could imagine her pride the day 

Her mother pulled it over her head 

She’d loved it so much she vowed 

She would never take it off 

 

Here she sat in the park 

A soda can by her side 

A greasy chicken bone in her hand 

Slight smile and a twinkle in her eyes 

I saw no parent or guardian 

So I approached just to ask if she was okay 

I moved slowly not wanting to frighten 

Knew not what traumas her little head might hold 

 

Shock filled me as she looked up 

Widened her smile and leapt 

I felt pain as she pinned me to the ground 

Started chewing through my ankle 

Shared my tendons with her doll 

Made tea out of my bodily fluids 

Yet I thought feast away precious girl 

I can’t be upset if you are the last thing I see 

How can one be angry at the cutest little zombie 

 

 

1986

 

1986 

The year I first found love 

Only to be stalked by heartbreak 

When LSD could inspire me 

To compose pages of soaring prose 

Or push me to hurl 

All the things she’d given me 

From a 3rd floor dormitory window 

To crash on to pavement below 

Precious pieces 

Tokens from her heart 

Reduced in an instant 

To shining symbols of a broken life 

 

It was the year the path I was on 

No longer offered branches 

The year everything I was 

Rolled away like the ball 

That trickled through poor Bill Buckner’s legs 

When all my hopes and dreams 

Became nothing more than those precious pieces 

Scattered about the pavement of my shattered mind 

 

 

The Stream Flows

 

The stream flows while beneath its surface 

poison slowly seeps. 

Those who look don’t see it, 

or choose to ignore, as they proclaim 

its innocence and its beauty. 

I bathed their once, long and deep, 

in its cool crisp waters. 

I cried over it but my tears could do nothing 

to dilute the toxins that had taken hold of its soul. 

I wish to know it still but I cannot, 

for each time I reach out, I touch it, it burns 

and kills me a little more. 

I know I must not look back, 

leave the woods where it flows, 

where I once danced and sang. 

I loved it once but have no choice 

but to turn my back and walk away. 

 

 

Demons

 

Why should I battle my demons 

When I can instead dance with them 

Hold their hands to ring in the harvest 

Sing the songs that long ago 

Would soothe both their hearts and ours 

Why shouldn’t I listen to their tales 

Of those past and nearly forgotten days 

Times when we knew we were all the same 

Before we changed and pushed them away 

Made up reasons to call them different 

Used our anger and our rage 

To turn them into the creatures we see today







Peter Kaczmarczyk is a lifelong writer who only began to seriously pursue poetry in the last few years.

Raised in Massachusetts, Peter was willing to leave the comfort of Red Sox country when he learned there were Dunkin Donuts in Indiana. His writing is assisted by cats, who think they can do better than him by walking across the keyboard. Sometimes they do. Peter’s work has been included in several dozen journals and anthologies and he has published two chapbooks. He is co-creator of the Captain Janeway statue in Bloomington, Indiana. 

 

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