In Which Nature's Charms Cannot Be Overstated

Comes now the news, via my Goodreads group
That sometimes, when some snails are on the move,
They travel by the means of some birds' poop.
This kind of science news recarves my groove!
Step One: Get eaten by a hungry bird
(Not angry: we all like some escargot);
Step Two: Let said bird fly somewhere. I've heard
It's nice in Tohoku, for instance, no?
Step Three: Just exit by the built-in chute.
Your shell should cushion gravity's effect.
While some might find this somewhat, well, uncute,
I find it charming, even nigh perfect.
O Tornadelides boengi, you
Know how to travel! Bon voyage! Adieu!

In Which @SpaceX Lights Up My Night

Up, up into the night sky, breathing fire
And bringing cargo to the ISS,
Goes Dragon, and we all gasp to admire
This first commercial capsule's new success.
Go, go, quoth all the launch crew in the poll,
Go, go, quoth we who watched. The future's brought
Such wonders. This is how I like to roll:
A nighttime launch. Lo what Elon hath wrought!
From PayPal to Earth orbit in a few
Short but so wild, eventful, years. My friends,
We all had parts to play in all this, too,
Who live here on the web and like to spend
Our time and coin here. Now a flash of light
Reminds us all, our future is yet bright.

In Which Schadenfreude Isn't Going To Cut It

While part of me can't fight the urge to say
"I'm kind of glad it isn't only us" --
There really isn't any decent way
That anything requires this kind of fuss.
Olympics are a plum, we're always told,
And something over which great cities fight
For hosting priv'lege. Might I be so bold,
However, and observe that this stuff might
Make others hesitate, in the first world
To offer to abide such things? I think
In future, when the colored rings, unfurled
Are offered, they will simply cause a stink
Of NIMBYism. They'll be banishéd
Like toxic waste to the third world instead.

In Which Is Considered Color and Chemistry

So Twitter, like my father, likes me blonde.
I cared not for it when I was a kid --
The jokes, you see -- but now I know what fond
Acclaim might greet me, mayhap I am bid
To keep my locks this Lannisteran hue?
I'll ponder this awhile, and let my friend
Whose alchemy achieved it have her say
As well - hers is the effort, in the end,
This yellowing of strands all gone to grey
Through art that modern science neatly makes
So possible: while modestly I sit
And chatter through the num'rous pains she takes.
It's eye-catching, I guess, perhaps a bit?
Ah, vanity, though truly, t'was for dad
To cheer him through events that made him sad.

James "Ben" Sherrod, Farewell and Rest In Peace

Folks ask me how it's so that I've no fear.
In part, I tell them, it is just because
I'm of this tribe, together year by year
And day to day, though later distance was
A factor. Something I have always known:
My uncle had my back, just as my dad
Has had my cousins'. Thus secure, I've grown
Into a stronger person; I have had
The fierce and doting love of Ben Sherrod
For all my days. Of this there's been no doubt.
I know that's rare, and some may call me fraud.
I feel for them, who've had to do without
A rock like he has been. And now, I, too
Must share that lack. Dear Uncle, I'll miss you.

For Naomi Kutin

Naomi Kutin, you're my hero now.
Just ten years old, and check out what she did!
I will not stoop to ask you why and how
This feat became your goal; I simply bid
Myself and all who read here to recall
That strength's its own reward. This lady here
Doth know it well. Whatever may befall
Her in the future, all will surely cheer
Who hear her name. To lift twice her own weight
At any age is marvelous; to squat
With same is just phenomenal. I, Kate
Your sonneteer, will now set out to plot
Achievements, too, inspired and quite in awe
Of our Naomi. Oops, you've dropped your jaw!

Bernard the Helper Mule: A Mock Epic for @popqueenie and @lucysfootball

When Buddy, Legolas and Keebler all
Attended the same party, long ago,
Alas, the three of them perchanced to fall
Into great folly, and, well, as you know
From looking at their tee-shirts... let's just call
Them most unfortunate. But how they show
Resilience is most inspiring! They
Don't let their illness stop them on their way.

Now, Legolas and Keebler simply got
Expected gifts from all their elven kin.
But Buddy? Such was not to be his lot
He took so many helpers for a spin
But Santa wouldn't spend the green (that's not
To call him cheap or anything, 'cause, well
We do hope he'll be gen'rous someday. Hell!)

So Buddy, helpless, lonely and bereft
Sat by the subway, begging for spare change
And scrabbling blindly for the crumbs we left
Of sandwiches, when one day, something strange
Occurred. Disgruntled, angry and deranged
One Kinky Kelly, formerly a deft
And lithe performer, just released from jail
Learned that his mule now saw him and thought "fail!"

"He doesn't love me anymore!" he cried.
"I thought tattoos were sexy, but, no good."
In tears he sank down to our Buddy's side.
And Buddy got to thinking. "Kelly, would
Your mule consider going for a ride?"
Quoth Kelly "He's a hussy, sure, but could
You give me just a moment?" "Sure." "All right.
Let's give it one more try, Bernard, tonight?"

Bernard, though, wasn't having it, and kicked
His ex right in the groin. "Um, he's all yours,"
Quoth Kelly. "Aw, I hope this don't afflict
You too bad," Buddy said, then, on all fours
He struggled toward the mule that he had picked
To be his helper, and, just as the doors
Closed on poor Kelly, grabbed it by the fur
And pulled himself upright. "No, as you were."

The streets of old Manhattan never saw
A sight like Buddy and his Bernard, as
They learned to help each other. "Oh, look, aw!
That's wrong, that is" was typical. "He has
His hand up in that donkey's--" "Shut yer jaw!"
But Buddy, he was used to all that jazz.
"Don't listen, Bernard," he would say, and for
The mule's part, there was really nothing more.

They learned to help each other, and now they
Are quite insep'rable, and other elves
Who partied with him on that fateful day
Just wish they had a helper mule themselves.
Especially Legolas, who, people say
Keeps hidden deep amongst his many shelves
Of poetry and lit, some rank mule porn.
Alas for him and his pale unicorn...

Poet's noet: The original inspiration for this can be found at LucysFootball HERE and further elucidated at Snobbery blog's feast of "Low-Ku" HERE.

In Which @Daecabhir And @PandasHeart Have Happy News

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

"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

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

"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

"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

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

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

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.