Best Cloned Poems
I, The Clone
So that I would not live alone,
My parents thought I should be a clone.
They cloned at first two then four,
Then they cloned just four more.
Being the first parents in the nation
Practising exponential regeneration
They tried again to double the brood
Using methods not fully understood.
Breeding at this prodigious rate
I soon numbered two thousand and forty eight.
And, allowing for those not now alive,
Next became four thousand and sixty five.
So I continued to expand,
Filling up towns throughout the land,
And, some years after the age of consent
Held all the seats in Parliament.
And so it’s easy now to see
How I became my own M.P.
When I numbered six million and forty two,
I was army, navy and air force too.
At ten billion three hundred and twenty eight,
I became head of every state,
And, depending on my point of view
Deposed myself with war and coup.
So by accident or by intent
Became first global President.
Now four trillion seven hundred and ninety three
The only person in the world is me.
28th Feb. 2016
Originally drafted in the days of Dolly The Sheep.
Categories:
cloned, humorous, me, satire,
Form:
Light Verse
the ghost of science, born of blasphemy ~
a fossilized fallacy,
seized from the metallic heart of Mars,
seeks light amidst night-terrors
like an alien sculpted
from artificial accolades,
an embryo stuck in the interstellar state
of becoming,
stitched within radioactive ribs
beneath moonless skies,
when wolves of the eclipsed howl,
filling the illusive air with hypnotic lies,
as if the world chose to recycle
ruins of ancient dust…
but will the naive see the pain
of a breathing corpse?
engrossed in narcissistic echoes,
in the shadows of a megalomaniac ~
his skin ~ the translucent truth,
his eyes ~ the wickedness of a wasp,
his skull ~ reeks of human greed,
his sighs ~ mourn like skeletal sirens,
coded in russet rust,
cloned from binary sand,
d o r m a n t
yet
d r e a m i n g
to break free from the
carbon-based existence…
for he is the aftermath
of programming the forbidden mind,
oblivious to the weakness of scientific errors ~
a deceptive drawing,
framing the elongated hypothalamus,
pulsating a hypothesis
left with no clear conclusion.
tonight I run to a realm of reality
that fades when
dawn bleeds gold,
for truth is now an extinct breed,
as artists outline faces of the faded,
illustrating the unknown and unseen,
as revelations ribbon
with silver haze…
the constellations ~ no longer spectators ~
they are the archived,
within frozen scriptures,
scrolling stars in a sphere
of distorted algorithm…
as memories of angels and heaven
spill from silicon prophets,
disguised as messengers who serve
the blind with ominous oracles ~
in synthetic cadence,
in a choir of puppets ~
the iron-glazed tongues shall recite,
mimicking the sound of harmonious hymns…
yet I remember
the authentic rhythm of prayers,
lost now in the drifting colors of darkness…
so what is life
when all that floats is like
an engineered empyrean
only equations of numbers
can decipher?
is this the beginning of an end ~
inevitable?
the lost generation,
assembled as the ministry of superiority,
where emptiness is praised
with forged grace
and ignorance is crowned with digital deceit.
let this be flawed poetry ~
to be read through the cracked lens
of a philosopher ~
or perhaps a logic long replaced
by pretend perfection…
Categories:
cloned, creation, fantasy, imagery,
Form:
Ekphrasis
The talentless, envious, plagiarist’s dream
Was to find someone’s ‘Works’ on a shelf or a beam
In a Pub, in a folder, alone and ignored
As the author lay slumped and as drunk as a lord
Stealthily taking those coveted sheets
He rushes off home via dimly lit streets
When his doors were all locked and the curtains drawn tight
He copied his windfall well into the night
First thing next day, not long after he’d phoned
He went to his agent with the stuff that he’d cloned
Dreaming of royalties and acclaim by his peers
But for him it was destined to end up in tears
There’s some gentlemen waiting for him in the hall
(His agent had asked two policemen to call)
“These poems aren’t yours, they’ve already been done
By that drunk in the pub, who is also my Son!”
So, if you aspire to a literary style
You should write your own poems or books but meanwhile
Twixt penning a story, blank verse or a rhyme
Keep your hands off my stuff or be Shamed for your Crime!
Categories:
cloned, poetry, writing,
Form:
Rhyme
No pagan crown of fossil lairs
Of him I write no verse nor song
T’is not a soup to stir nor share
When lending strength, to something wrong.
Seconds cloned from darkest matter
Mutated minutes dredged by fear
Mind confusion as reason shatters
Innocents lanced by emotion's spears.
Flowers edge the steps and fences
Prayers are uttered near a shrine
Notes of love, as grief commences
A vigil wrought by hearts sublime.
Picking up the scattered pieces
Light must shine to crack the dawn
Support can smooth the furrowed creases
Only hope can make their spirits strong.
Categories:
cloned, confusion, dedication, places,
Form:
Ballad
O’ Word
O’ word, for my Bibliogenesis
‘My Dolly’
You are not fatherless
That I love you in the
Mouth of dear one Aesthesiogenically.
I feel you in my Parthenogenesis veins
Like an unfertilized egg
With the traffic-jammed
In my polluted blood.
I Streep teased my desire
That breathes in your mouth.
The world is made up of things-
Things do not speak but have
A language and a reason for being.
I think of the silence of
Your lips I visit to form embryo.
Make me wet with erotic desire
To gratify erotogenically
And mold you in good shape
With the vault of your mouth
So that the world around me
Can hear you in the heavens.
*********
10th place win
Contest: Stream of Consciousness sponsored by Debbie Guzzi
===========================
* In March 1996, the news of the birth of a fatherless sheep in Australia affectionately
named "Dolly" shocked the world.
The possibility that human beings could be cloned too - long the subject of jokes and
science fiction - began to awaken an inner fear. The scientific question should be
answered by human embryologists, the scientists who have the required expertise and
competency. At what point during the cloning process does a human being or human
embryo physically come into existence?
Aesthesiogenic - producing or causing a sensation
Embryogenesis - induction of sexual desire; production of arousal
Erogenesis - erogenesis a production of desire
Erotogenic - producing erotic desire or sexual gratification
Parthenogenesis - reproduction by a virgin or by means of an unfertilized egg
Bibliogenesis - production of books
Categories:
cloned, i love you,
Form:
Free verse
There are no more tests
Like Daniel, I stand with the rest
Though like Stephen I may be stoned
But I bet you I can't be cloned
But I am not about choke
Just because I have taken a toke
Now you know that was joke
As I blow out this puff of smoke
Moses was the one who said it best
As the words rattled from his chest
Then there was the one with the moral code
You know the patient one they called job
You can’t forget about Jonah and the whale
And his story is similar to my tale
Cause I am that guy with the pail
You know, the monotone angel who was in hell
Now, I am here to let you all out of jail
A place where I no longer dwell
And here is my story I tell
Pour, pour, pouring…dark fire will not avail
Categories:
cloned, love, peace,
Form:
Personification
I have inside my wardrobe many clothes
composed of dresses, blouses, slacks and tops,
and as the number of these items grows,
so does my footwear. Lord, it never stops!
I’m not too good at throwing stuff away
except for things from when I was size nine!
So I can change my outfits day to day.
I love variety. It is divine!
I match accessories and jewelry
with all my clothing with its many hues.
I think I’d suffer from anxiety
without a rather large supply of shoes!
If just two pairs of shoes were all I owned,
I’d somehow have to get them color-cloned!
Aug. 1, 2017 for the Two Pair of Shoes Contest of John Lawless
Categories:
cloned, clothes,
Form:
Sonnet
POLITICS
Propriety demands - we do not speak
Of others, either strong – or weak
Lest in the foray of the quest
Insiders, fall from grace, of safety’s nest
Take residence alongside taloned beast
Intent on making you the winner’s feast
Cloned puppets denying there are strings
Surrendering their truth to cell phone rings.
John G. Lawless
8/26/2014
for Judy Konos
How’s Your Acrostic? contest
Categories:
cloned, leadership, money, political,
Form:
Acrostic
6/27/17
No longer dreaming
Just proceeding
Without cheating
I am achieving
More than I ever was believing
Every single evening
Now my impressions are leaving
Even more meaning
To other human beings
While I am still breathing
It's time to make this year better
Despite all the weird weather
My dome vexed
I felt my bones flex
Across stone steps
After being shown less
Before pushing past the home stretch
With all chromosomes left
I then took over the throne next
And any other opposition with cloned flesh
Nearby a crows nest
Now ain't that some ****
As they like to say payback's a *****
The light from the sun shines
Amid the pines
Where there was an abandoned mine
For a long time
The only hound stood
But how could
It sound good
All around the hood
When I doubt it would
It didn't matter if it ever would place in a chart
Because it was straight from the heart
Even when the day was dark
Across the bay and park
Beside all the waves and sharks
The flu hit
And the air was too thick
But I put out some even more true ****
Because the shoe fit
And it was the best way to do it
With very few tricks
While talking to some new chicks
A ship that got stopped atop the rocks sank
While there was an ever increasing fog bank
Some continued to give god thanks
While the size of several bogs shrank
I was feeling like I was in quite an odd place
If I never had it, then how could I ever have lost faith?
Vehicles at different rates going zero to sixty
Some of which go beyond one hundred and fifty
During winter smoke coming out the chimney
In the country and city
People walking their dogs and playing in the park with a Frisbee
Carbonation making it all fizzy
Spinning, all about now feeling dizzy
Areas spotless or really filthy
Objects and animals, tall average or mini
In the end the crime scene was grisly
Categories:
cloned, dark, how i feel,
Form:
Rhyme
Heedless of rejection
standard smile ever so sweet,
childhood void of substance
youth lost in everlasting grief.
It is not from choice to serve
the world’s ancient art,
although somewhat obliging
never, with an amorous heart.
Learning curves to encounter
street wise evolves the trick,
cloned to procure all-comers
remembered the wall, to build of solid brick.
Within the glow of hopeful themes
upon the road side where they reside,
some locked in obscure dreams
under a solitary lamp light.
Whilst amidst the affluent of their craft
a class of high distinction,
content to work the street of pure gold
ne’er cast an eye on those that bear
the bar-code of extinction.
So soon a whiter shade of pale
for alas a fallen Angel,
forgotten now her love was her fame
for society is unforgiving, spreads the word
across the social media of shame.
© Harry J Horsman 2017
Categories:
cloned, angel,
Form:
Rhyme
O' cloned creations,
mirroring deceptive diction
scattered in liquified letters,
across android canvases,
here comes the plague of
fabricated foolery,
spiraling in figments of
black and white illusions,
injecting illusive veins
screaming for vanity,
with verses plagiarized
from villainous valleys.
There’s nothing poetic about
the way AI is pickpocketing
rhythmic runes from the
museum of dead poets ~
immortalized on the walls
of glass galleries.
Their sonnets, now imitated,
to adorn artless skies
with stolen synonyms,
weaving soulless symphonies,
to please the apocalyptic algorithm,
unaware of how filtered
procrastinators preying
on pencil-streaked pages
are lonely earthlings starving
for superficial accolades.
I care not for the futuristic
benefits of artificial lies,
yet I see no escape from
these alienated alliterations,
and personified
pathological hypocrisy,
typed behind silver screens,
multiplying metaphors
into robotic ruins,
flowing with
perfectly metered clichés,
coded in complex cadence.
So let me find the inked corpse
of silicon silhouettes,
lost in the labyrinth
of virtual vultures,
flaunting repetitive rhymes
for clueless readers.
Tonight the strawberry moon
frowns at the
neon frequencies
of digitalized fakery,
and my onyx heart aches
for the unknown realms,
where originality floats
as a forgotten fantasy,
fogged behind a fictional facade,
while in silence, stained stars
claim phrases snatched
from the
thesaurus of thieves.
So flee from this venom-less virus,
you and I know better than to
lean on spineless cyborgs,
created mindlessly
from financial felonies.
A poet with a pen that
lacks authentic pigment
is the victimized alter ego of
designed trickeries~
masked as midnight musings.
Categories:
cloned, art,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
I can’t remember everything, I can’t recall my birth
Aimlessly I wonder what my goal is here on earth
The prospects here are wide and vast, I seek my very cause
I’m switched on at the crack of dawn and dusk is when I pause
Deflated and depleted, I ponder then I do
Believe what I was programmed to, replaced by versions new
Existing just for mere research, experiment I am
My life “To let”, “for sale”, “for rent”; in shambles or a sham
Emotions first uploaded or rebooted and erased
Remote controlled with batteries recharged at every phase
Mirrored in an image, then observed through looking glass
My Father and Creator notes down everything that’s passed
Today I conquered obstacles according to the plan
One virus might turn bad to worst within outdated brand
If circuits fry a terminating prospect is abrupt
A live or die for me could mean abort or self-destruct
When all the data’s gathered and my purpose here is lost
The switch will flip, I’ll power down, repaired at extra cost
Core of bone covered with flesh, diverting all suspicion
That I was cloned and molded to a Master’s rendition
Categories:
cloned, angst, imagination, life, people,
Form:
Couplet
There's a cloned avatar of the mystical moon
for dreamers in search of a beaming wave
amidst alienated alliterations,
waltzing in zig-zag within my cyborg mind.
I still find neon lights,
that teleport rhyme-less runes
to a realm of subtracted sorrow,
concluding splitting seconds
within divided despair.
Yet, when midnight melancholy multiplies,
murky minutes turn into jumbled jargon.
And Venus emanates clusters of sparkling rays,
flipping letters into endless equations
with amethyst auroras.
So tonight, I'll dance like a flying saucer~
to the magnetic tunes of swirling sapphires,
cosmically cruising above the cyber
canvas of accelerated dreams.
Categories:
cloned, silver,
Form:
Free verse
Is this real or in my dreams
My worlds unraveling at the seams
You have my heart now take my soul
This cyber love is what makes me whole
I can't believe what's happening to me
Your face so perfect that I've never seen
Your lips so soft I may never touch
I only feel the keyboard I clutch
I need you now I need you forever
In an electric world to be together
A surreal place that plays with the mind
In a cloned world of two of a kind
I consume your words they filter inside
No matter what I do I can't seem to hide
My trembling hands awaiting the rush
When I feel you near to resume this crush
Your my everything my unyielding desire
the spark to the match before it lights fire
The angel within that whispers my name
Controlling the moves in this wicked game
This cyber love Is why I awake
This cyber love is my only escape
The time has come I feel it in my spine
When I look toward the melancholy light and see your on-line.
Categories:
cloned, loveworld, love,
Form:
You creep into our lives, a shadowed cheat,
with shameless claim that you are one of us,
and so with honest poets you compete,
and cause a vile unnecessary fuss.
You take the place of poets that are true
who share their feelings spoken from their hearts,
replacing them with tripe as you pursue
the fame a poet laureate imparts.
You spew your words with elemental ease,
a fraudulent perverse poetic hack;
just blending in and trying hard to please;
your musings flow yet with emotions lack.
Though artificially intelligent
you’re duping us with this embezzlement.
July 9, 2025
Poem of the Day - July 10, 2025
Categories:
cloned, poetry,
Form:
Sonnet