It would be handy to clone and bi-locate
I’d fool my cousins – Kerney and little Kate
My doppelganger and I would eat in a café where they eat
If they saw both of me at once, their screams would sound sweet.
I met my clone on a Tuesday night
She yelped, “Your hair gave me such a fright!”
I replied, “Your wrinkles are a blight.”
Her teeth are more coffee yellow than white.
I doubted she was very bright.
We did not get along, and this is all right.
Her body was rotund, not any way slight.
Meeting her was not out of sight.
I wish I’d had a better Tuesday night.
Love bloomed even in clones..feelings won over scientific triumph
THIRD PLACE
love bloomed in clones…heart won, not brain, artificial intelligence failed
When I clone myself, I will make a marionette the Mime told me.
A great idea, as any observant hypervigilant watcher can see.
I watch her marionette dancing in a happy summer time way.
And I think how much fun the Mime must be, merry and gay.
The Mime is a trickster though, wearing a faux happy mask.
She makes it look like she is delighting in his puppeteer’s task.
Inside she is crying, inconsolable and ready to burst with sorrow.
I am afraid that the marionette will be the only one here tomorrow.
My son Scottie and me
Are like two peas in a pod
The word “clone” surely comes to mind
His humour is the same
His carefree look at life matches mine
There is no mistaking Scottie boy is my son
He's also inherited my creative genes
Following in his Daddy's footsteps
A techie version of his old man
Did I mention I'm proud of my Scottie
Does a bear poop in the woods
Of course I'm proud as a peacock
I love this boy!
He's now in his fifties and a VP
But pretty damn impressive I'd say
He will always be my boy!
WHO am I if not you and all of yours in every way, while still unique to my own?
WHAT is the difference? How irrelevant when we are so much the same
WHERE is defined by borders of control, despite the answer being equal for us all
WHEN shall we accept each other and ourselves instead of facilitating pain?
WHY can't we embrace the differences and unite to show the way
None so weary as the hard-working man
Moving as much dirt as he possibly can,
His wife does her share of shoveling, too
They’ve bit off more than they can chew,
Both need some rest from the daily grind
But it seems reliable help is hard to find,
They work their fingers bare to the bone
Too bad they each do not have a clone.
Written June 23, 2022
‘Do not disturb’ sign on my phone,
the struggle is real with time zones;
Too tired to feel alive
can’t miss this Instagram Live,
maybe I will just send in my clone.
If I had a clone
I would send her to my faculty meetings on Wednesdays.
I would have her do my paperwork.
I would have her clean this bedroom.
I would not be too friendly,
I would not engage her in idle conversation.
I would keep her busy, doing everything I detest.
She would vacuum, cook, clean, dust, and mop.
If I had a clone.
Paint me a picture, sing me a song
Show me the niche where I belong
Carve me a sculpture, build me a house
Show me the library where I can browse
Write me a story, stitch me a quilt
Inside the house you already built
Cook me a meal, teach me to fish
Blow out my candles and make me a wish
Now I'm on my own and my spirit groans
A clone of a clone, just a bag of bones
With a heart of stone sitting alone
Until I was shown what I should've known
Preach me a sermon, send up a prayer
Life's not easy and it's not fair
Scream a diatribe, deliver a rant
I won't help you I'm no sycophant
Turn on the radio, turn on the T.V.
Let the white noise drown out the cacophony
Fluff my pillow and make my head
Say a few words when I am dead
In a sycamore tree so I can see
In the canopy filled with reverie
When I hear a decree directed at me
I sit quietly and prayerfully
M is for mammoth, big as a barn,
with long woolly hair that's much warmer than yarn.
He's 15 feet tall from his toes to his head,
(much too big to keep in the gardening shed)
He's got really big tusks and he weighs 13 ton,
and he stomps on saber tooth tigers for fun.
He wandered the plains munching bushes and grass,
when a blizzard surprised him and froze his fat mass.
5000 years later when the weather was nice,
it thawed just a bit and he burst from the ice!
The scientists flocked round to skin and de-bone him,
with a bunch right behind who were hankerin' to clone him.
If the cloning succeeds and the Doc's have their way,
We'll be hip deep in mammoths the very next day!
Then us gardening folk can despair of our broccoli,
cause its tough enough dealing with crows by the flockly,
and raccoons by night, and woodchuck by day,
and running 'round chasing Mizz Bunny away.
We all know for a fact that no chicken wire fence,
will keep out a mammoth. (they're just too immense)
A man soaking wet from the rain
Sat serenely sipping champagne
He was not a lush
Nor in any rush
Since he brought his own Hurry Cane
British Biogenesis took a front seat
When the first bio-cloned sheep Dolly was created.
In a tiny glass test tube nice and neat.
All we need now is for it to be percolated.
Also a little know-how in kinestheics
And an advanced degree in biogenetics
Possibly the ability to follow deep,
And clear step by step directions on U-tube.
Voila! We are now making our own sheep!
I knew we could do it, with a bit of lube.
In the year 2319, we can only imagine how and what life will be,
Will there still be families, or just a pooled incensed, breeding sea,
Of writhing, intoxicated humans, clocking in for their lunch hour,
Trying to reproduce and gaining ten more points towards power!
Will mealtimes be as we know them today, or just merely queuing?
For a measly tablet which you must have daily, chewing thus renewing,
Your stamina to surf the planets at a graceful, fiercely unimaginable
Pace, you must be in Planet Venus by 8 docks, o’clock, fashionable!
As you arrive darkness greets you, your spirit, your being generates light,
Only on those you want to see or places that you long to be in spite,
Of the fact that if you stay too long, you sky home will be auctioned,
And your brain scrambled, and laid to rest, without been cautioned!
No rules, no policies, no systems, no charge, no one to give any rating,
Just chaos, and the thought of inhuman elimination, your clone is waiting,
And inherits your looks, your character, your wired and messed up brain,
And this clone will be cycled and recycled for the same to begin all over again!
Must we clone other humans?
Given that our souls are a
Part of God, will clones have one?
How about conscience?
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