Call me mad if you must
But please first hear me out
I just got back from the Cryogenics lab
And guess who's head I picked from the crowd

If your thinking Jimmy Hoffa
No, he's somewhere deep asleep in concrete
I grabbed someone much more spectacular
I grabbed the frozen head of Walt Disney

You see years ago he had himself chilled
At least that which contains the brain
The useless part they put in a casket
And far be it for me to dig up a grave

I've now got Walt packed on ice in a cooler
It wouldn't do to have his head melt
What kind of operation do you think I'm running here
Some kind of Mickey Mouse?  

First on my agenda find Mr. Disney a body
One that won't give out on him too soon
Cause once we thaw out Walt and he starts to talk
There's no telling what he'll want to do

So I let my fingers do the walking
Here's something interesting...Bodies By Jake
I just hope we find Jakes place in time
Before the ice melts and we are to late...

...talk about false advertisement!
Jake the snake didn't sell bodies at all
Walt and I are more than a little disturbed
There really should be some sort of law

Guess I should have thought this all over
Long before I thought of it now
So as a special treat I thought Mr. Disney and me
Could go see his "World", so we headed South

Standing in line to purchase tickets
The cooler shakes when Walt hears the prices by chance
No need to tell you that if he had lower extremities
He would crap them if he wore any pants

We decided to do something a little cheaper
And with a Disney movie just out today
It was kind of hard to follow along though
When all you could hear was his body spinning in the grave, miles away

Guess it's to early to try and bring back Walt Disney
Maybe one day I can try it again
But before we leave for the trip back home
We stop at the concession for diet soda and Jr. mints

Once we got back to the Cryogenics lab
They're looking for me so over the fence I let the head fly
No need to worry, one of the guard dogs grabbed it
And I'm sure drug it right back inside

How should I refer to him? By Popsicle or Corpsicle?

i.
I feel like my legs have been stamped
and sent around the globe -
perhaps one flew to Austria to hear
the string quartet that stole my heart,
and the other walked to Amsterdam in
hopes of finding the soul I sold,
now stored on a shelf in a mason jar.

ii.
There is no metaphor,
only mileage -
a life lived long enough to realize
that love speaks louder than language,
and all an artist can do is strive to
describe the strangled kiss with
hit and miss letters,
myself no exception.

iii.
I remember tearing a photograph in two
and trying to stitch a half of each of
our faces together - forcing them to fit.
When I looked upon the product, the monster
I'd created, my legs began to shake.

Today, I want to sink my chest into yours.
Your heart pumping blood through my veins for a bit, mine doesn't want to anymore.
Let's trade.
I'll put my brain on ice.
Wash this skull cavity with some minty fresh chemical while my wrinkled pink mother board discovers cryogenics.
When I place it back Into my tingly, almost numb now, chemical washed head
I will still feel heavy.
I want to turn to a whisp.
Like the Night Elves in World of Warcraft.
A floating blue orb of energy
Just a spirit, weightless.
Let me live as electricity, like that spark you felt .
Like that spark they all felt.
Place me in the power lines so I can power houselights and televisions.
Let me be usefull for something again.
Don't convert my head though.
Keep that on Ice.
Better still, creamate
everything but my heart.
Let the ashes get caught
in carpets and drain pipes
Kept in little ziplock baggies,
Tucked in a wooden box,
Kept back seat of my mothers car,
So she can hold it once in awhile.
Until she parks her car in a bad part of town
And a homeless man breaks in
Doesn't steal the gps, or her wallet on the front seat,
But snorts me three hours later
Thinking he just hit the jack ***.
That's where I want to be.

In the lungs of some car burglar
Where his addiction should have been,
coughing on my ashes.

He won't get my heart though.
Keep that frozen in a white room.
Smelling of copper, by a tray of tools,
Latex gloves and paper masks.

One day, thaw it out
bring life to someone.

Incandescent

The frost coats our windowpane,
and outside the world sleeps
in its arctic cocoon.
You are my fire,
we are wrapped up in our warmth
while staring at the moon.
The pheromones in the air
produce pins and needles
which tingle up my skin.
Acupuncture
to heal my sickness for love,
detoxifying me from within.
If I were angry
you would pacify me.
If I had a disease
you would medicate me.
I once was blind,
but now I can see,
that with you, my wise master,
I can erase the past
and rewrite history.
Winter creeps up
with its icy touch,
looking to barren my soul.
But enveloped in your embrace,
I have full control.
Turning up the heat to help me survive,
this journey we have,
all through the night.
The frost coats our windowpane,
while you glaze my heart with your
warm honey…
Restore my oxygen,
pump my veins,
Turn up the dial on by body
a few degrees.
Even if the world freezes over
from Winter’s mad spell,
we will still live through the
Cryogenics of our love,
and deny all law of physics.
For as long as your heart is beating…
mine will reside-
although the world sleeps
through the storm,
while frozen on the outside.
But the brilliance of our love
will always be…
Incandescent.

Kena SunGoddess Dawn 2009

You
and
I

become sweetgrass
become riverwater
become cryogenics

Not
Frozen in time
Not
Slowed, stopped, surrendered.

A new field
With hope.
Timeless.

You? And me?
Yes.

Cryogenics is here.
The night of the frozen dead.
But if you look into their mask.
Evolution bypass.

They want to live for ever
They work on it all the time.
But would you want to be with them?
For the rest of time.

It will happen.
Later or sooner
But these guy’s ain’t got no sense of humour.

Foot down on life’s gas
Evolution bypass
Evolution bypass.

Something about immortality fascinates me!
But I realized that I don't need science or cryogenics,
Because when this flesh is finished,
I'll still have these words I wrote living.
When I leave this life,
I'm gonna leave behind,
The fruit of this eccentric mind!

crying is for babies
and for the dear departed
or unlucky ladies
that are broken hearted

or it's for my gran
when she lost her Bella
crying we all easily can
unless you're a fella

but there's one exception
when men like babies bawl
when in their method of contraception
they notice there's a hole

Eyes:
The glimmer has dulled.
In the winter
We curled together
Hopeful that summer would melt our frozen hearts.
Cryogenics never quite took off; forever is nothing to scoff at. How are we to spend eternity when this quarter century has already lasted too long? We listen to the same songs on repeat- we know the words but forgotten how to tap our feet. Asymptotic lives forced to come close but never meet. Summer is here. Our hearts were never really frozen, that's just what they told us. And to come together is to burn alive- Salem witch trials- mediocre minds know extraordinary vileness. Nights I wake up drenched in sweat wondering what could have been. I play our songs half hoping to be frozen in memory. I reach and reach, but touch only air. Heavy, humid air. Always choking on ghostly emotions. Rain clouds come round but nothing falls. Existential drought. Bodies fall,
Silent
Under the sun.
The unaffected
Play on the beach
And have fun.

Going backward to go forward
Finding my true identity
The hidden core
That represents my reality
Overgrown with twists and turns
Carrying me in wrong directions
Swimming upstream
Pummeled by the surf
Battered by rapids
Working on goals
That seemed long forgotten
But only frozen by cryogenics
Waiting in the wings
Hoping to be rediscovered
Looking in the mirror
To another dimension
Past the vortex
That remains transitory
Fleeting moments pointing the way
To look backward
And go forward