Suppertime Sonnets

In Which @Daecabhir And @PandasHeart Have Happy News

2012-01-22T18:33:00.001-07:00

Who says that Ren faires bring us nothing good?
'Twas thereat, I believe, that Gregory
(Called Daecabhir amoung the wondrous 'hood
We call the internets) did chance to see
And flirt with a belle femme there, whom we know
As Panda's Heart. True love at soonest glance,
I think, for Greg and Anna, 'neath the glow
Of torchlight. Lo, how sweetly time and chance
Brought dorks to love - and now today we learn
That it's for keeps, for quite out of the blue
Hath Greg announced that she's his wife. I yearn
To hug them both, but this will have to do.
Huzzah, forsooth; here's wishing many years
Of happiness, and lovely ales and beers.

In Which Occurs A Very Muppet Scotchpocalypse

2012-01-22T12:30:00.001-07:00

"Macallan's, anyone?" Miss Piggy said,
And batted those eyelashes. "Damn, you know,
That frog picked him a woman!" Oscar's head
Was already a-spin. It's ever so,
However, that a muppet, offered scotch
Must drink it, ev'ry time it's offered. Soon
The bottle drained, this pair was much debauched,
And Oscar took advantage of her swoon.
Then Scooter showed up with Glenlivet and
A camera phone. "Deplorable" does not
Describe the scenes he captured in that can,
Depravity and garbage, whiskey shots
From porcine nostrils, stuffing -- and then they
Began to sing, to sin against Broadway.

- for Paul Elard Cooley

In Which I Come Out As ATebowist

2012-01-08T18:34:00.001-07:00

O Tebow, you're annoying, but you won,
And now my family is more than glad.
My first game of the season turned out fun
(In my book, sudden death is never bad).
Now onward through the playoffs shall ye go,
And with you go we all, our fears and hopes
Well activated - but I still say no,
That kneeling thing does not impress me. Dopes
Might tell me that I must believe, but I
Don't think, if there's a god, it interferes
In bread and circus football games. Let fly
What insult-prayers ye might; just keep the gears
A-turning, and we'll all be happy, 'kay?
Go Broncos, show the Pats just how to play.

SHOUTY MEN IN SHINY ARMOUR: In Which Dissent Is Handled

2012-01-01T12:44:00.000-07:00

"Off with his head," the angry queen did shout.
"Which one?" inquired her faithful headsman, "He
Has several." "The one that's speaking out
Against my reign!" "That narrows it to three."
"Off with his head," the queen said, pointing at
Her headsman. "I will give a shiny sword
With rubies in its hilt to whom'er that
Back-talking knave do slay." No one stepped for'ard --
That is until a wizard slinked into
The crowd. "Ah! Here he is, thank you, fair dame
For finding him," quoth he. "This is for you."
He tossed the queen a purse, then burst in flame
And he and his eight-headed slave were gone.
"Whate'er it takes to keep the peace. Move on."

Suppertime Sonnet Stories: In Which An Author Is Screwed From The Get-Go

2011-12-28T10:18:00.000-07:00

"Well, Boyd, I think it's time we had a talk:
The public wants the story of your life --
These things still make bank! -- and if you should balk
At all the work, well, I think that my wife
Would be a fine ghost-writer." "Well, I think
That sounds just fine," Boyd told his agent. "Wait!"
His mom said, on the conference call, "Don't drink
A toast on that just yet. I may be late
In telling you, but your dad's gambling caused
Some problems, so we kind of sold the rights
To your biography. And it was claused
In perpetuity." "When?" "You were mites."
"Who has the copyright now?" "It's been sold
So many times I'm clueless. And I'm old."

Suppertime Sonnet Stories: In Which @BlazingBetta Needs To Return To CrossFit

2011-12-27T17:02:00.000-07:00

The blaze of Betta set the car on fire
Just as she walked past it, among all those
Parked wildly there. Now now, I am no liar:
When she fails to go lifting, e'en her nose
Gives off such energy as would explode
A lesser being. As a consequence
The car combusted (no, this did not bode
Too well for next year!) and, scarce minutes hence,
So did the parking lot entire when she
Returned from buying new weightlifting gear
(Those gloves are vital!). Now it's up to we
Who love her, and the earth, to gamely cheer
As Sarah heads on back to hit the gym!
If we don't, then our prospects grow quite dim.

Suppertime Sonnet Stories: Trans-Dimensional Safety Lessons ForChristmas

2011-12-25T10:04:00.000-07:00

A universe next door: The traffic stop
Was not performed, and blithely he drove on
At terribly high speed that did not drop
In time to miss an oncoming Scion.
Thank goodness in this one the lights did flash,
The siren sound, and though the ticket was
Expensive, Simon, chastened, ceased to dash
As though he were a supersonic Claus
And ev'rybody lived to celebrate
The holiday. A turkey, slightly cooled
Is still delicious; love is never late
But just anticipated. So hath ruled
The judge over dimensions. And the Man
In Blue enjoyed his gath'ring too, by plan!

In Which A Dragon Saves A Maiden

2011-12-08T18:15:00.001-07:00

My elbows both engaged in mutiny,
From overuse of these computers, I
Must now resort to something new to me:
Some software that makes what I say to my
Machine, here, into typing. As I've said,
As many others have repeated, this,
Life in the future, rocks. From out my head
And through my voice, onto the page! I miss,
Sometimes, the errors that do creep into
The text this way, but editing is smart.
It's passing strange though, that I say "undo"
Instead of hitting backspace. How my heart
Is gladdened: now no longer is there pain
In pouring out what's in my heart and brain.

ElbOW

2011-12-02T19:13:00.000-07:00

This year was through with me ere I was done.
Now I just hide and cover me to rest.
The race is over. I don't know who won,
But please believe, I wish her all the best.
My wounds have tapped me out of ev'ry fight,
My goals lie all in tatters at my feet
And nothing that I've started has gone right
But I don't care right now. I'm tired, I'm beat,
And quite forgotten. Oh, of course, I know
The wheel will turn around for me again.
But just now, I would just as soon it go
A spin or two without me. I have been
A few too many times 'round with no breaks;
I'm only human, don't have what it takes.

Sonnet Dare: In Which Glompings Are Passionate And Hath Consequences

2011-10-17T17:20:00.000-06:00

He drew her to him tightly, in a crush
And Lady Michchievous was most aware
Of how he felt about her. With a blush
She pulled away, but could not meet his stare.
Such glomping as he'd given her had caused
Such stirrings in her as she'd ne'er admit
To ever having had. "Sirrah!" -- she paused
Then, ere berating him, for truly it
Had not been so unpleasant, and her eyes
Cast downwards, modestly, saw what she'd felt
Saluting her -- "You think me some cheap prize?"
She stammered, but kept looking at his belt.
"Oh glomp me once again, you monster! Yes
Like that. No, to the left a bit, I guess."

In Which I Sign Some Books

2011-09-30T00:03:00.002-06:00

This bowling alley was the first locale
For my al fresco sonnetizing, so
I do decree this night that said place shall
Be most appropriate to thus bestow
My autograph the first time on my book!
My worst friend, Kevin, ordered copies, and
So eager was he to have him a look,
Demanded one-day shipping. Ain't that grand?
So there I sat and signed them. Oh, the thrill
Is quite unparalleled! It's feeling real:
My heart is pounding loudly even still
(Though that might be from beer without a meal)!
My joy at all of this is quite profound
And sharing it with you ? Kazoos resound!

In Which A Paperback Is Now Available

2011-09-26T13:19:00.000-06:00

Rejoice ye sonnet fans known to prefer
Thy doggerel when printed on dead tree!
This day, t'would seem, is when Kate says that her
Collection as a paperback may be
Obtained from Amazon! Go take a look!
Thy sonneteer will wait. Her gratitude
Is vast, to all who helped her with this book,
In choosing entries, in taking her crude,
Unformed ideas on layout and design
And making of them such a lovely thing
As makes her wonder if a tome so fine
Could ever bear her name! Lo it doth wring
Fat tears of joy from her bewildered eyes
To share this news with you - that's no surprise.

In Which I Try To Stay Positive In the Face Of Unfairness

2011-09-25T11:48:00.001-06:00

Life's short, so grab your nearest love, for me
And hold him tightly for a moment; say
All that you should (same goes if it's a she)
Ere darkness falls and closes out this day.
Not ev'ryone today is going to lose
That last chance, but we never know until
It's far too late. Therefore it's best to choose
To lead on with your heart, suppress the will
To self-defense. Far better risk the hurt
Of some misunderstanding or rebuff
Of your short, deeply honest, silly blurt,
Than to regret you never said enough.
Too short a time amongst us, Kenny; I
Was really not prepared to say good-bye.

On Waiting For Another Film At The Lightbox

2011-09-15T16:11:00.001-06:00

The theatre fills up and people chat
With strangers, seatmates, friends, all movie fans
Bright-eyed and eager, always hoping that
The best is yet to come, that well-laid plans
Made poring o'er the website weeks ago
Won't lead to disappointment now. The risk
Of duds is always there; lo, to our woe
We have encountered two so far. Paul's brisk
To point out that more wonders have we seen
Than pointless staring wank-fests. This is true!
And this is why my interest still is keen
As I wait for the lights to dim, a few
Announcements, pre-film snippets, then the start
Of something yet unknown. Be still, my heart!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

In Which I Can Only Say Wow

2011-09-03T07:26:00.000-06:00

There's nothing like disaster-time to teach
Who's in my corner, how I have been blessed
With friends as true as e'er there were. And each
Kept me far from despair throughout. My quest
Henceforth is to deserve them. Pardon me;
Particulate invasion of my eyes
Afflicts me once again. How can it be
That trouble turns to joy so fast? Surprise!
Dross can be turned to gold; the magic's there
Just waiting to be tapped. And now my hope
Is that I'll somehow prove this. To be fair
I know my luck's been good beyond my scope,
So even when it's bad some alchemist
Transforms it. I can't be alone in this...?

In Which I Attempt What My Spiritual Forefather Could Not

2011-08-17T19:55:00.001-06:00

The Bard's regrets and melancholy stir
Me 'crossed the centuries; ne'er could he pen
A paen to a creature without fur
Or feathers, at whose sight he might have been
Moved to his greatest poesy: I name
None other than Velociraptor, that
Most swift and vicious predator, whose fame
Reached not to Shakespeare's time. Speak not of cat,
Unless it's cheetah, and speak not of snake
Unless it be a rattler -- nay, its noise
Disqualifies it, too. O hours awake
As I have pondered on the subtle joys
Of contemplating this iambic beast
Do yield naught to me, but here's this at least.

- Dared by ye Wenche of Sauce

In Which I Offer To E-Sign Your E-Books

2011-08-13T09:33:00.000-06:00

A book is lovely, lovelier when signed
By he or she who wrote it, but now we
Have ebooks, and for this they're much maligned:
They're hard to autograph, but now we see
(While waiting for Paul Cooley's MyWrite app)
That someone's tried to fix this problem, made
This program: Kindlegraphs. So give a clap,
Mayhap a cheer. As yet, though, I'm afraid
That only Twitter users can request
Inscriptions. Still, as things go, it's a start!
So now it's up to you: please be my guest
And ask for one on my book if your heart
Desires such. And meanwhile, watch this space
For news of paperbacks, anon, apace!

In Which Ants Show Their Colors And We Are Most Pleased

2011-08-09T18:30:00.000-06:00

The insect world is full of wonders, true,
And beauty, and of things so passing strange
As make us wonder who is fooling who
(I know that should be "whom" but I must change
The case to fit the rhyme scheme sometimes). Take
These ants, who show we all are what we eat.
Three cheers to Dr. Babu (I can't make
A name like that up!), for his passing sweet
Idea to show their abdomens take on
The colors of their food, and also bring
Some loveliness to all of us. I'll fawn
O'er these great images until something
As pretty catches my attention - though
'Twill have to be a marvel, even so!

Green Wake: In Which I'll Visit But I Would Not Want To Live There

2011-08-08T12:36:00.000-06:00

Green Wake is where I would not want to be.
Is it a town, or just a spot in hell?
Whatever, it is surely not for me.
That's not to say I won't just set a spell
And peek in on its doings - and I can
Through comics, which is really just as close
As I would like to get. No, Wiebe's your man.
He went there so we don't have to. A dose
Of god-knows-what, and he and Rossmo bring
Us news of that most dark, unpleasant place,
Where anyone, and nearly anything
May be a future frog, where any space
May melt you into nightmare forms, destroyed
By your own guilts and sorrows from the void.

In Which @Bug_Girl And Her Camera Make Me Smile

2011-08-06T16:38:00.003-06:00

Bug Girl hath learned today: it does not take
Too great an effort to earn a hoorah
From me; indeed all it took for to make
My day, to make me smile, to send my jaw
A-plummeting toward my chest was this:
A snapshot from her garden -- but not just
A plain old plant shot, no, for that's to miss
All buttons on my keyboard. No, you must
Provide me with some insect porn if you
Would seek my fond devotion. And, what's more
While a Manduca's always welcome, due
To my weird standards, braconids will score
Much higher on my charts. And here are both
In one shot. Here's to those coccoons' quick growth!

In Which Is Born A Strange Dynamic

2011-07-28T10:26:00.003-06:00

There's grass in our backyard now! Doggies dream

Of such things, when of such they've been deprived --

Well most dogs, anyway. D'ja hear that scream?
"Eek! Grass!" quoth mine own collie. I've not jived

You there, I do assure you. When I go

Outside to sit and watch the sprinkler keep

The sod moist, does she join me? Mostly no.

Indeed, her mistrust seems to run so deep

That when her loneliness sets her to choose

To seek my company, she gives a scratch

Upon the backdoor -- but alas, you'd lose

The bet that she is coming out. The catch

Is that she wants me there indoors instead.

Politely I refuse. She bows her head.

In Which I Guess I'm Progressing Nicely

2011-07-27T17:51:00.006-06:00

I'm in the anger phase again, I guess.
That phase where I just want to tear my hair,
Lash out and tell the world to f*ck off. Yes,
I'm mad I've lost another friend, don't care
If I hurt feelings, even if it's one
Who lost him, too. How lucky, then, that I
Share space with no such person. Ah, such fun
To cry within a cubicle. Nearby?
Banality and pointlessness all reign.
I'm trapped amongst it, teeth grinding in rage
For one more hour, then home to nurse my pain
In silence and in solitude. This age
Of distant loves and close connections brings
Sublimity, but also horrid things.

In Which I Ponder A Strange, Sad Phenomenon

2011-07-26T03:35:00.005-06:00

To miss someone one's known online is strange.
There's still a hole, but he's been fossilized.
His stream just stops, and will not ever change,
But doesn't ever leave, I've realized.
The film's stopped on one frame. We may rewind
Quite at our leisure, easily relive
What won our love originally, find
New things, too, that he alone did have to give.
Mac's tweets are still up; so are Lethe's; both blogs
Have been preserved, and Max's, too, live on,
As shrines or data ghosts, as catalogs
Of what each man has shared. The men are gone,
And no new chapters shall be written, yet
Their echoes do not fade 'mongst those they've met.

In Which I Try To Say Good-Bye To Max Bell

2011-07-25T08:06:00.004-06:00

I knew the day would come when we would reach
For our friend Max, and he would not be there.
That day has come, it seems, and now we each
Must find the words -- they're all we have to share.
I've braced myself to feel his absence, yet
E'en so, I was not ready. It's a cheat.
I can't recall what we last spoke of, bet
'Twas something mordant, funny, even sweet
(For, snarky though he often was, his heart
Dictated kindness, even when the dumb
Just burned). I'll deeply miss him, for my part --
Or will when I am over feeling numb
And empty. Ev'ry day's a touch more dim
And more so now, with no comment from him.

In Which I Have Said "Sod It"

2011-07-22T12:21:00.003-06:00

My future backyard threatened to dry out

While sitting on its pallets through the morn.

I eyed it there and failed to stifle doubt

And heaped upon myself no little scorn.

I should have womaned up and planted seed

According to my first plan, but the toil

That job was obviously going to need

Was more than I could do alone. The soil

I'd readied was already sprouting crap

Much faster than I could spade over it.

I'd fallen into a homeowner trap

From which I'd not escape, so I said, "Spit!

And sod this; suck it up and call the pros.

It's only money, right?" And so it goes.