Best Cryogenic Poems
If I told you, Donald, my love was true
Would you dance for me, glad to be my boo?
Or give a mean retort
Making a piggish snort
No Valentine's kisses from me to you
Melania is getting done with Trump
All he cares about is his nasty rump
The Epstein files don't lie
Knows he's guilty as pie
When his term ends, he'll be sent to the dump
If he tells me, I never wear a smile
It's because I think he's a pedophile
Ungodly as a papist
And a guilty rapist
Who knows what else is in the Epstein file
King Donald Trump thought Greenland he’d steal
Used threatening blunder in his spiel
This Valentines Day
Thought he’d have his way
Greenland said, “Up yours, Donald. No deal!”
Don Trumpty is totally impotent
He can't get it up for any event
It remains very slack
Can’t perform in the sack
On Viagra his bucks have all been spent!
Donald J. Trump held a Valentine's Ball
The world's dregs... he has invited them all
There was Kim Jong and Putin
Khamani and Rasputin
His ego boosted, he felt ten foot tall
No roses to give from the rose garden
He paved it with a black heart that's hardened
Installed gauche golden bling
and destroyed the East Wing
Criminals and crooks, he's given pardon
Melania said that they’d never part
And told him she loved him with all her heart
She held his waist tight
Squeezed with all her might
Poor Donald gasped and let out a fart
The President is standing in the buff
Posing nude and trying to strut his stuff
I guess he supposes
Wife wants sex not roses
But sadly, his old todger is too duff
Donald forgot it was Valentine's Day
Was too busy with targeting his prey
By grabby their tushy
His bare hands, so pushy
All the red roses sold out anyway
The FLOTUS put Donald in his place
In the bedroom he can’t touch first base
Cos he bedded Stormy D
Then Epstein files, oh dear me
The POTUS has got egg on his face
I'd be his Valentine if he'd hold still
Long enough for me to give him a pill
that would put him to sleep
And freeze the nasty creep
Putting him in a cryogenic chill
Cupid's arrows missed their mark, A collaboration of thoughts by
Jan Allison, Tania Kitchin, Tom Cunningham and Lin Lane
Twenty fifth of December, three thousand and four
and already I'm down in the dumps
we're round at the neighbour's via tubes that save labour
propelled by some hydraulic pumps.
We've exchanged all our presents and got them unwrapped
once again I've got self-cleaning socks
the wife's Kevlar panties, though they are quite scanty
are going straight back in the box.
I'm constantly goaded to eat nuts they've downloaded
they'll try any tactic to feed ya
but the problem, I quibble is that some have been nibbled
as they're passed around on social media.
We're looking for doorways or just any more ways
to find a quick route to get out
and escape if we're able, being chased round the table
by genetically modified sprouts.
They've offered a glass of Martian Pinot noir
and they tell me it's alcohol free
so there goes my boozing and afternoon snoozing
and waking up just after tea.
Grandma kids are teasing, cryogenic freezing
means she won't wake up until noon
to find grapes in her hair and a plum, God knows where
and they've blocked up her nose with some spoons.
Don't know why they have bothered with plates that can hover
it seems so bone idle to me
they could have just handed the pudding that's landed
on the light fitting just above me.
The custard's abundant but the jug is redundant
administered now by syringe
and so is the Brandy which, though is quite handy
prevents us from having a binge.
When later we get back from fresh air and jet packs
remembering when we could walk
I'll look back fondly then to those Christmases when
we just used a knife and a fork.
November 16th 2015
For Contest 'A futuristic Christmas', sponsor Mystic Rose
*For Matt's How to Build a Spaceship Contest
How do we create an airship that soars?
The answer was Roswell’s, but it could be yours
Make the long trek to Area 51
To find secrets that lie beyond our sun
Use a metal that is lighter than tin foil
Load the fuel tank with something cheaper than oil
Beam us up, Scotty, to the Enterprise
And view technology through a Vulcan’s eyes
Defrost Walt Disney’s cryogenic brain
To help us design the computer’s mainframe
Call Mulder and Scully out of retirement
Their UFO knowledge is alien-sent
Be sure to use tiles that don’t overheat
Like those that cast Challenger down to defeat
Let’s add Stephen King to the construction crew
If “Christine” could talk, our spaceship should too
Then let’s send the tab for NASA to pay
What happened to our space program bucks anyway?
Now we can blast Congress into outer space
For the lot in D.C., there’s no better place
The claret globe it fills the sky
for landing time will soon draw nigh.
Now wake from cryogenic sleep
those who Earth's promises must keep,
our sixteen finest, bright and bold
to set red planet's first threshold.
For their tasks, specially chosen
air's thin - Sherpa gene bespoken,
brains, strength and reflex all enhanced
to give our crew a fighting chance.
Carefully reared in far Tibet
to make their chances better yet
and if perchance their mission fail
a second crew will take their trail.
Where frozen embryos still burn
to start new clones and take their turn.
frozen on the vine
cryogenic flavored host
a time released smile
frozen on the vine
ice glistening in the sun
grapes hold on tight
harvest time has come
necter trapped in purple orbs
till glasses are raised
Freddie's Grape Haiku Contest
Plethora we were, idyllic and rhapsodic
Dulcet, was felicity always our path
Destined to be in cryogenic chrysalis
Universal talisman below sapphire skies
Once radiant, soon evanescent
.
Saskatchewan’s Breath !!!
Comes on days that are long, steely and very cold.
It comes on winds that are strong, steady and bold.
Majestic little ladies try standing erect, against Saskatchewan’s breath
in their fragile, Autumn colours of golds, browns, yellows and reds.
He rings those bells - telling of winters cold hand of death –.
With great and greater force, Saskatchewan’s breath blows their heads,
bends their limbs without the passion and grace of a strippers dance.
Saskatchewan’s, cold, cruel breath – like a mad man rapist –
tears at, and strips them of their colourful gowns with little chance
to hide their nakedness for a moment longer – no fig leaf in his tempest
left for them - to greet winters white blanket – with or to enhance
the bleakness that old man winter brings – laying all else to rest
in frozen slumber – cryogenic freeze – in ice age arms of Morpheus,
until spring bounces back – rejuvenates life into rebirth –
bringing renewal, bringing hope for one and all of us
and smiles upon us weary old souls waiting for a green earth
to come to life under our tired old feet – lift our spirits to the skies
bringing joy, pleasures and wonder to our tired old eyes
as we look forward to seeing our – world – babies grow
into the wanders that are soon gone, as we surly know
- deep within – how this universe ( our little world ) turns.
Deep within our souls, there are places that yearns
to see a light through the darkest night – a spirit burns
with passion, with delight, yet knows and has concerns
about what lies in the darkness, behind passions eminent glow.
Sight, knowledge and wisdom, to many, come wings so slow
and in such small pieces, – in fragmented minute flakes –
tiny specks of light from the subconscious for consciousness sake.
So, until the end, nothing but questions – memories we will take
into that elusive light, where knowledge and wisdom it will make
us come to see, see the essence, true life in this universe
as the life of this rhyme comes to an end in verse.
B. J. “A” 2
October 6th 2005
The cryogenic lab held many a jar
And Walt Disney’s brain I could see from afar
Perpetually frozen to see a new age
With some I tried conversation to engage
But the brains had no mouths with which to speak
No ears either to hear me give a shriek
The site before me seemed so very bizarre
I made my living will, requesting “no jar”
*Written January 17, 2012 by Susan’s “Jars” contest
The simplest of starts,
A decade of revolution,
When paternity and guidance drifted apart,
With leather jacket banners marked my breakout social intrusion,
To replace the sorrowful suits and camo bandannas,
Loathing the silver idols lining the streets peddling their new cause,
Of fire and brimstone raining down on the icy plains of Alaska,
Preaching patriotic mantras tinged with bloodthirsty cried to give you pause,
And consider the cozy live you've been living behind white picket bars,
So I heeded the call and traded in my wanderlust and dreams of diamond rings,
To take up arms for my country and its thirteen stars,
Earning my spot in the chorus of national anthems that the people sing,
Defending democracy and liberty at the point of a rifle,
Where upon my enthusiastic arrival my place had already been set,
Entrenched far from the front lines so as to avoid the true heat of battle,
Avoiding the burden of the iron skin worn by battle-hardened vets,
It was here in the pits that our intentions were made clear,
That our mission was a farce, our patriotism unfounded,
Our noble rescue mission to protect the free world that I held so dear,
Devolved into another rat face for resources upon which global tensions compounded,
A war so aimless in nature and fruitless in results,
A war for the freedom to choose death now or later,
A war never changing in purpose regardless of enemies killed or allies consulted,
A war that buried civilization inside a nuclear crater,
Emerging from my cryogenic time capsule, the sole remnant of American spirit,
I gaze upon my broken world and wonder, "was it all worth it?"
Again the winter woman comes
Noble blood of Norman sons
Exquisite and bawdy
Tresses falling frosty
The contents of my battle helm
Her cosmic cryogenic realm
Each eve she bear her chill to me
She'll have my oath and bended knee
Illumine blue and translucence
She is a truthful illusion
Eyes dusky clear
By what gate does she enter here?
Time To Shower...When Pervasive Odor Of Ureic Acid
Doth strongly waft, sting,
and nauseate about me
olfactory nose flying zone
bombarding cilia of
nasal passageway analogous
to displeasure wrought by
crashing, deafening, exploding,
ear splitting xylophone,
also synonymous isolated like
barenaked lady within
remote location of Lake Woebegone,
voluntarily forced to bathe
in brutally cold
mountain waters oxbow lake
vaguely resembling out
size topographical wishbone
rescue unlikely since
bajillion miles from radio tower,
thus state of the art
electronically sophisticated videophone
good as worthless resignation,
sans fate linkedin tubby
mother nature's cryogenic specimen
more'n murmuring undertone,
where huge Arctic glacier overshadows
infinitesimally microscopic human,
one speck kin zee ditched
*****sapien subsumed
under superfluous tombstone
as frozen fountain head,
where Atlas shrugged,
nonetheless incongruous yen
to purge mine offensive odor,
where civilization footprint
sole lee mine alone in wilderness
thus farcical reason (without rhyme),
atypical, farcical, and poetical title,
yours truly didst stirrup and spur
inexplicable search for soapstone,
yet prospect to don measly frame
without gay apparel
(beastie boy bit figurative bullet,
and buttressed body in buff)
immediately augmented primal scream
to trumpet heebeegeebees
(teeth chattering yodeling
rendition re: stayin alive)
from this Rhinestone
survivalist cowboy wannabe,
began feeling comfortably numb,
and immediately prone
to become human popsicle,
especially when sub zero temperature
immediately froze water splashed skin
(like glassy sheet of ice)
glancing viz albedo effect
as blindingly white
snow capped mountains outshone
albino crags, offering
absolute zero, yes none
reassurance with insulated moonstone
sleeping bag useful
as yolked with lodestone
around neck - slow death by
freezing this knucklebone,
who sought cleanliness,
(and panacea to immortality)
joining exclusive polar bear club
(Ursus Maritimus very selective,
and only chose me) even
at expense of more'n
just frozen jawbone
plus Jack frost bitten cockles turned
deep purple as inkstone
used to write re: scrawl epitaph
on icicle glommed headstone.
I think you are thinking how i could not make a big cut
And become a power wielding politicians though
I have a blade like tongue and a mind like a cauldron
Boiling leads and freezing mercury at cryogenic level
And break a path to be super rich though I know
The trick of the trade how to play intraday in equity market
You might also think that how it is possible for a man
To be quite extraordinarily and lives a life of penury
When I sacredly have discovered the formula to win a lottery
But I am not thinking all these but I go wondering
In your presence how a liar becomes a leader all around
Telling white lies and a rascal swindler becomes a tycoon
A mass killer becomes a minister, a child rapist a lawyer
and a social worker who was few days ago a notorious goon ;
At a time I think you have stopped thinking otherwise
They could not be so confident telling us to listen or die
Could not issue threats after threats to ban us and
To snatch our all due rights sitting together conspire and try
To malign us in every possible manner known to mankind
Other time I do not wonder seeing you keeping silence
Looking other way and giving us just useless lip service
A man of coward nature like you must be a lousy hypocrite
A seller of conscience and a filthy immoral saint of the street
Death shrouds each
ancillary moment
Pain lashed without reason
A blind game against the sun
Humans turn against dirt
Where they search
Thoughtless configuration
My sense
Of cryogenic soul hovering
Imbuing fluids, mystery without expression
And creasing against
The wind of ideas
My only source of direction
When you speak germane
Fertilizer falls out
With no patience
To encircle the pants
You left trailing behind
Instead a tumor grows
Simultaneously banished
And buried under the surface
Without recognition
society has forsaken me to an exiling loneliness as i become someone no one understands, unnerving memories seize the enzymes pouring forth nightmares from corrupted pineal glands, destiny leads me to the earths sacred lands, places where biblical prophecies have walked and royal blood has seeped unto the sands. a compassionately humble man once showed humanity undying love and for that his life was sacrificed, nailed upon a cross and tortured as the filthy hands of humanity are forever stained with the blood of jesus christ. casting me away into a psychological chamber now becoming cryogenic, thoughts scattered as memories run freely like a paranoid schizophrenic, the illusions of reality corrupt ocular perception like a hallucinogenic. i pray that i will just wake up to find this was all a dream, but i'm stuck in this nightmare to horrifically paralyzed to scream, everything we hold to be true is nothing of what it may seem.
Embryos sing saddle-sore sonatas, beneath
the despot eaves of chromium skies, reflecting
black light down upon the harbours where
ambition claws the air and slowly dies; and
nighthawks scream a siren song of sadness, for
all the lovers lost and ripped apart, their
entrails steaming, scattered and decaying, cryogenic
memories still the beating heart.
Somewhere in a paean of pain and passion, eyes
upturned in sockets sear the night, telescope
and zoom into the heavens, ruptured
vessels crack the milky white; for
all the golden graces of the goddess, stealing
and absorbing love and soul, hoarding
with her sadist smiles of sorrow, reaps
the diamond, reimburses coal.
On the moon my blood drips sour and savage, fills
the craters and the fossil seas, scars
the surface dust like crazy paving, packs
the vacuum deserts with disease; on
the moon my blood is frozen solid, crystallising,
still as tombstone script, cold,
implacably cast as death's dominion, to
love no more, enamelled bathtub crypt.