No Wonder @Ghostfinder Likes Groundhog Day!

My co-author and much admir'd net-friend
Is now become a slightly older man.
This Groundhog Day, the shadow's not the end
Of what we have to celebrate. A fan
Of Adam's "voodoo steampunk" writings, I
Most certainly am. They've got style and verve,
Lovecraftian and them some, but this guy
Has many other tricks to help unnerve
His readers. On his birthday, I am proud
To sing his praises, though I tap my foot.
He owes me our next chapter. I am loud
And rude to say it here, know he will put
The pedal to the metal just as soon
As he's done with his new novella. Swoon!

In Which I Scribble And Sketch

I'm working hard at my new challenge, which
Is something that I've never tried before:
A drawing ev'ry day. I've had the itch
To try since last year. Back then nothing more
Than the odd insect sketch came from my pen
(Or pencil, really, but these words still need
To fit the meter and the rhyme scheme when
I write a sonnet!). Now, as I proceed
I'm trying first to draw the people who
Do populate a novel which I write
These days with Adam Christopher -- not new,
That project, but it soon will see the light
Of day, if we continue at our pace.
So far this year feels like a caucus race!

In Which I Tap My Foot And Try Not To Watch The Clock

Just 40 minutes now stand in between
Myself and freedom, and there's much to lure
Me out of here this Mridray: there's my keen
And burning lust for comics (yes, my pure
Delight in that crossover, Hellboy and
Those Beasts of Burden, has caused me to seek
Back issues of the latter), and -- how grand! --
My co-author has come through with a squeak
And zapped me chapter two of what we hope
Shall be a great weird western novel (I
Can't have a gander now though, because, nope,
My use of beta software wouldn't fly
Here at the day gig). And there's work to do
On my days off, oh yes. Oh, fly, Time, shoo!

In Which I Team Up With @Ghostfinder To Mess With Your Pea Pickers, Pilgrim

The West is where I hang my tattered hat

At present, and, as of this morning, where

My next big writing project takes place. That

Excites me, and it pleases me to share

The news! My good pal Adam Christopher,

A voodoo steampunk master (horror, too)

Is teaming up with me (we did confer

This very morning early); our aim's to do

Up Weird West creeped-out fiction like no one

Has yet attempted. We are just the team

To do it, too, in process having fun

At vast unhealthy levels, it would seem.

So git those spurs on, little buckaroo,

'Cause soon enough something will holler "Boo!"

In Which There Is A Flapple Over Apple

The deed was done a year ago; the news
Came from the Patent Office last month, and
Was in the New York Times today. "Let's fuse
Our lovely tech with advertising! Grand!"
Quoth Randall Stross (I paraphrase) by way
Of summing up his thought's on Apple's move,
Applying for a patent on, they say,
A gadget highjack, quite against the groove
We think is Apple's. Make your iPod freeze
Until you prove you've watched the ad it's shown?
Anathema! Yet cooler heads say "Please,
Is this indeed the Apple we have known?"
Perhaps it's just a measure to prevent
Some others making real what we'd resent.

Sunday, Stupid Sunday

A horrid combination these two make:
Of torpor and of loathing do I speak.
A Sunday afternoon at work can take
All that I have and leave me feeling bleak.
It's August, but this morning bore a chill
That froze my breath in mid-air as I rode.
One tire was slightly flat, I think, which will
Make bike-riding much harder, as I showed
Myself anew. Hours later, I'm still spent,
And listless, filled with hatred ev'ry time
A task occurs, or question. Like cement
Undried this day pulls me down; it's all I'm
Aware of at this point; I feel its weight.
Oh MAN, three hours to go yet. That's just great.

BONUS SONNET: In Which I Geek Out On Some Steampunk Voodoo

A clockwork universe is what I crave,

The most of all when fiction's what I seek.

Machine oil, steam, and heroes who behave

Like gentlemen when helping out the meek.

These make me smile, so Adam Christopher

Was at a great advantage from the start.

In Devil in Chains mighty deeds occur

By men with a surfeit of brains and heart,

But nothing supernatural; they're just

Men who use ingenuity to fight

A Lovecraft horror dwelling 'neath the dust

On Britain's Isle of Man. It's a delight!

Oh how I love the romance of steampunk.

I want to fly next time. I've packed my trunk.