The Interstellar Feller: In Which Escape Is Undertaken

Sonneteer's note: this is the latest installment of an on-going sonnet serial, Pepito Mojito: The Interstellar Feller. New readers can get up to speed by clicking on the "Interstellar Feller" tag below to bring up all installments. Start at the bottom and read your way up to today's...

Confined to a small cell, our cyborg queen
And her two fav'rite lovers, at a loss,
Must ponder their next move. They are unseen;
Their captors fighting over who is boss
Might well be in their favor. They take stock:
One naked man, enthralled, is not much use,
But they are well-equipped; they'll soon unlock
Themselves, these metal dames, will soon be loose!
Their fingers are toolboxes, and their brains
Enhanced beyond our understanding. Doors
Cannot imprison such as these, nor chains
(Unless they have consented; then they're yours
To play with as you will, but we digress).
In no time we hear their cries of success!

In Which My @Laroquod Is Now One Year Younger Per Our Agreement

A time walker's a hard man to pin down,

But in this world at least, today doth mark

An anniversary. He's been around

A bit, my Laroquod, and did embark

Upon his journey on this day back when

The moon bore not our footprints quite yet. He,

Has mastered certain skills that other men

Have only dreamed of, and he brings to me

Things new and old I've never seen before

(That queue deformer), and I never might

Were not for him. And there is so much more

I'd tell you but it's more fun to incite

Him to show you himself, pull off his cowl

And let him loose. All I can say is: HOWL!

SONNET DARE: In Which I Try To Make Sentences Out Of Hashflags And Fail

The FIFA World Cup has come 'round again,
A season when e'en I do care somewhat
For sports. It's mostly just a nerd thing. When
The Twitter lords decided they would strut
Their geekery, creating #flashtags, who,
Then, was surprised? Just type a country's name
(Abbreviated, like on scoreboards): you
Then generate that country's flag. Each game
We tweet about will have some color. More:
An apopheniac and language dork
Like me will try to render semaphore
Of them, or to make sentences that work
With those abbreviations. Yet I fail.
Fine: shut me down. Put me in Twitter jail.

In Which The Grasshoppers Lie Heavy

There still is something missing as the spring
Morphs into summer. While the days are long
And lovely, and the noisy blackbirds sing,
As do the larks and mourning doves, it's wrong
To call me pleased, who pedals past and through
The grasslands and the marshes, breathing in
The scents of plants and flowers on Deep Blue.
The Greenway still is lonely with no din
Of insects. Barely hatched and tiny, they
Still hide within the earth, can barely crawl
Forth from their refuge; they'd be easy prey
In early instar stages, for 'most all
Those chirping birds. Come out soon, friends, and play,
And jump to herald me along my way.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

BONUS SONNET: In Which I Am Cut Off From Twitter And Have The Blahs

Today I'd simply mope, or do some chores.
The lawn of weeds out back needs cutting; there's
Still laundry and some dishes. All this bores
Me e'en to list. I'm burdened by these cares
Alone in my big house, so might as well
Trade current blahs for future pleasures, if
I have the chance. And this is why I dwell
Today at ye old day gig, somewhat stiff
And grotty, trading my day off for one
In future months when I'll be somewhere new,
With people whom I've chosen to have fun
Alongside, whom I choose to be with. True,
There is no guarantee I'll live to see
Those days, but it's still worth a try. Ah, me.

A Memorable Fancy

From recent plane trips, I have come to know

Just what our country looks like from on high,

As seen through clouds, so very far below.

Today a grand illusion in the sky

Caused dizziness. I lay back in my swing,

Inhaled my Chinese lilacs, and my gaze

Went upward. Truly 'twas the strangest thing:

Farmlands and fields and rivers through a haze

Of drifting water vapor did appear,

As though my world had been turned inside-out,

As though the antipodes had come so near

I'd reach them if I just let go. About

Me all seemed poised to let me go and float

Off to the skylands, however remote.

In Which I Split In Two And The Sides Do Battle

A liquor store is just across the street
(But it's the busiest street in Cheyenne).
A pouch of cocktails really would be sweet
(But it'a so dreamy here beneath the fan).
A walk provides much-needed exercise
(But calories eschewed need not be burned).
It's cheaper than a bar, and no barflies
(But you've got plans for all the coin you've earned).
The day has disappointed me. I'm sad
(But you've already planned an early night).
Just one mojito wouldn't be so bad
(Would there just be one? Ha! Put up a fight!).
Ok, so what should we do in its stead?
(Just watch a DVD, then go to bed.)


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Meta Sonnet: In Which My Time Management Skills Are Lacking

Today I've no excuse; I'm merely late
In publishing a sonnet. No excuse
Have I for this except that, being Kate,
I found other distractions. No abuse
That can be heaped upon me can be worse
Than what I've given to myself for this.
In reading comics, 'stead of writing verse
I've been a slacker and deserve to miss
A day at last -- but for my dear, good friends
At TCA, I was reminded that
I've still a duty here that never ends.
We plot and plan a groovy new podcat --
Our lingo for podcast; we're passing weird --
And this reminder staved off what I've feared.

In Which Is Considered Podcrit

Podcasting as an art's still fairly new;
Its rawness and its ease are both part of
Its main appeal for those creators who
Have seen in it potential. Just for love,
We write our tales, record them, then hit send,
Then shake our asses, hoping that someone
Will say they're cute, or at least choose to spend
Some time a-listn'ing and will have some fun.
This we've achieved; community we've found!
And now it's time to ponder our next move.
The kids table's grown crowded, all around.
To join the grown ups, we shall have to prove
We've quality to offer, must demand
More quality at all points on the band.

SONNET DARE: In Which I Attempt To Make Sense Of The Senseless

Has madness, static and dynamic, been
So well combined as here, where Mr. Chess
Did thespianate as was lately seen
By Laroquod? I find I can but guess.
"Rail, genius," quoth he, upon his sign,
"Twelve beauty natural blonde girls' members stars --
An opportunity with them is thine!"
(I paraphrase a bit). Is he from Mars?
Or hath he the mere form of one who's come
From there, this actor dancer? It may be
That only Paul can know, who witnessed some
Of this performance, to whate'er degree
A subway ride afforded. One thing's sure:
'Twas fascinating for him to endure.

In Which The Private Sector Takes A (Very) Small Step

Today we launched the PayPal Rocket, though
It took a couple times to bring aloft.
With mixed emotions did I watch it go
Into the sky. I am not one who's scoffed
And said the private sector can't, but it
Is nowhere near prepared to take the slack
Of Constellation. I'm not sure how fit
Our people are these days to e'er go back
To Luna, on to Mars, or anywhere
Beyond, unless another party takes
The chance to shame, and thus, to goad us there.
Don't get me wrong; I still have hope. Indeed,
I wish SpaceX all due FSMspeed.

The Interstellar Feller: In Which There Is Tension

Sonneteer's note: this is the latest installment of an on-going sonnet serial, Pepito Mojito: The Interstellar Feller. New readers can get up to speed by clicking on the "Interstellar Feller" tag below to bring up all installments. Start at the bottom and read your way up to today's...

Their prisoners now stowed, discussion turns

Upon what they'll do next. Who's in the lead?

Tribruno? Quodlaro? The question burns

As factions form. Their motivations? Greed,

Homesickness, heartbreak, vengeance, violence

For its own sake. Guns drawn, the crewmen float.

The lack of trust amongst them making tense

The Grokulator's very air. No vote

Was taken past the seizing of the ship.

At last the mighty, wise old Captain Droze

Doth stash his weapon, taking out the clip

And moving to the center. "Where this goes

From here," he says, "Is up to all of us.

Now I'm for home, but don't want any fuss."

In Which I Tease @JeffKirvin A Bit On His Birthday

Poor Jeff, although I'm puzzled that he still
Seeks iPads after his adventures in
A-getting banned from Apple mecca. Will
He never find his happy place and win
His heart's desire? I really shouldn't kid
Him too much on his birthday, should I? Yet
I cannot help it (though I never did
Try all that hard). I hope he won't regret
This effort when he has his 16-G
Wi-Fi-enabled gadget, and he finds
The time for his capsacin fix ere he
Gets too discouraged as his journey winds
To its close, and he gets to have some fun.
I hope today winds up a happy one!

In Which Is Established My Summer Headquarters

Summer Headquarters, originally uploaded by qatesiurade.

My travel season's done until the fall.
This summer all the fun will come to me
And stay here at the domicile I call
The KATE STATION. It's nice that I can be
A hostess. When I'm not, I'm busy still;
So many writing projects, and the need
To keep in touch! But truly it would kill
Me slowly if I stayed inside; indeed
My kitchen table really can't compare
To this sweet office I've set up outside!
The signal from my network reaches there,
I've shelter from the wind, and cannot hide
My pleasure at the scent of lilacs, though
That might distract me for a month or so!

In Which The Sonnet Queen Knows Things You Don't

I take a confidence seriously,

And that is why in confidence I'm told

So many things. But I still get to squee

As long as I disclose naught. I won't fold

Or bow to pressure put on me to spill

My knowledge, but that doesn't mean I can't

Gloat on this page, say neener-neener, thrill

Myself, if no one else. Go on and rant

And call me tease; I care not. I have got

At least two secrets, and the day's yet young.

I won't say whose, nor any of that rot.

No clues escape my fingers, nor my tongue.

When comes the day that you're allowed to know,

You shall. Till then, just listen to me crow.