Season 1, Episode 001: A Genuine Zombi Dance

season 1 of raconteuse radio

Guilliean reads three of her poems; read along with the poems while you’re listening!

Music: Shades of Orange from ZapSplat.

Zombi

Not the glamorous ghouls from the movies
Or the pending apocalypse from the books
But the ones who wear monkey suits
Plasters on a fake smile
And pretends they are not dead inside
Like me.

I shall never forget the day
That I lost all hope
Say it out loud
Cried like an anxious child
Who lost their invisible friend
Red, puffy eyes
Sniffles like a cold
Not one kind word
Emotional rollercoaster

I wish they could all feel my pain
The let down of unpursued dreams
Failing before trying
Unable to make the leap
Too stubborn to try
An easy way out, hard way in
Retreating to the melee within

Sit there and judge me 
You don't know the battles
The scars that have shaped me
The wars I have yet to fight
It's true what they say
Your greatest enemy is yourself.

Dance Even Though the World is Falling Down Around You

To Bukowski and <em>Hard Times</em>.

There's a part of me, deep inside, a bluebird, perhaps
That sways while the world burns
To a waltz that no one else can hear but me.
In spite of all the terror and fear and anxiety in my world
Since the world is ending, I'm throwing the party.
Dance with me. Dance for you. Dance, dance.
For three minutes. One side of the vinyl. Sell more of them if you do -
Dance. Even though the world is falling down around you.
Cry those alligator tears from your brown eyes
while the pain weeps from the soles of your feet
The ones that keep you moving forward, never back
When shit goes down, mo bounce.
I'm tired of relinquishing my power to an automated
computer program who can eliminate me from the stack,
Saying I'm not worth the time.
Overqualified to live the life that I deserve.
Life is cold but all I see is gold
on the hour when the sun sets in the desert of my heart.
They say the good die young, so I'll keep dancing.
There's nothing left to do now, but Dance.

when the smile was genuine

When the smile was genuine
Collected all the discontent on my neck
Chop me up, defenestrate, agitate, lay in wait
Tuned in to celebrate
'Twas a day late, dollar short
Demonstrate the demon's run
When a good man goes to war
Them Delta blues got nothin' on me
Keep ya head in the past of a life unlit
Diseased, knobby knees, if you please
Colored outside those blurred lines
Of who I thought I was supposed to be.

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Guilliean Pacheco (she/her) is a writer and editor of Filipino heritage and the host of the City of Writers podcast. Her work has appeared in TechTarget, Nevada Humanities, and Helen: A Literary Magazine. She has an M.F.A. in Writing from the University of San Francisco and is an Anaphora Arts poetry fellow. She’s a misplaced California girl who lives in Las Vegas normally, if one could call living there normal, on Southern Paiute land. Follow her on Twitter.

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