In Which I Enjoy My Flash In The Poetry Pan

(Click to SONNETSIZE image)

I know that this is really just a fluke

Of Amazon and of my awesome friends

Who jumped today to go and buy my book

(It's there now, just like Smashwords). This portends

Not one thing for the future, but today

My sonnets were on this bestseller list!

My name was ranked with Whitman, Poe, hooray!

I feel as though the Sonnet Fairy kissed

My forehead. Thank you all. This gives to me

More motivation, now, to finish work

On getting out that print edition. Whee!

Next week just watch me go all-out berserk

To get it done. Now off to have a drink

With local friends. I've earned that, don't you think?

In Which An Ebook Is Published!

At long last, I am pleased to offer here

(At SmashWords) and on Kindle just as soon

As Amazon does what it has to -- dear,

Oh dear, watch out, your sonneteer my swoon! --

An ebook of these sonnets. Later on,

In hot July, I'll make available

A print edition you may feast upon

And hold in your two hands -- I wouldn't pull

Your leg on this! But if you just can't wait,

And have an e-device on which to read

Some silly poetry by your pal, Kate,

You needn't! And the cost is low indeed.

And dig the art, by M.R. Neno, who

Did quite a job, I think! How about you?

In Which I Ponder The Future Of This Blog

Photo of me writing a sonnet in a movie line by Sarah Multiverse

Two years of sonnetizing; I shall reach
A thousand ere the year is done. Is that
Enough? Has this grown stale? Do I not leach
Some value with high quantities? I'm at
A point where 'tis an automatic thing
To write a sonnet. People photograph
Me doing so quite on the fly; I fling
Them forth in movie lines, just for a laugh
Or sometimes scribble them out over drinks.
In truth it's become something of a stunt,
And other pastures beckon now, methinks.
So: shall I follow where I'm led, or, blunt
And hack-like, cling to this well-mastered form?
Tell me, dear readers, d'you prefer the norm?

In Which I Attempt Something Rather Silly

The story genre is "a sonnet." The

Release number is 1. The headline is

"An Inform 7 sonnet". "So, you see

I seek to write a poem that, on his

(Or her) compiler truly can be played".

Include Custom Library Messages

By David Fisher. "Oh, but now is laid

A cunning trap, baited with sandwiches".

The Iambtrap is a room. "There inside

You see a rhyming dictionary and

A list of words that aren't iambic. Slide

It open, read, and do the best you can."

The dictionary is an object here.

"Dare you to take it, or do you feel fear?"

QuodRod LIVES

Computer-building feels like it's an art

More than a science. I am Frankenstein

And monster both. Today I chose to start

A-using it, this thing I've built; it's fine

But has some flaws yet. First of all, no sound,

Though I know what to do when next I'm free

To play with it some more, to fool around

With parts and drivers. More importantly

It works for writing, as this sonnet shows,

The premiere composition on the beast.

Now, though, my houseguests beckon. So it goes.

It's almost time to drink, scarf down a feast

And plan tomorrow's outings. So, adieu,

E'en though I've yet some tinkering to do.

Alas!

Alas! The streak is broken. I forgot
To write and post a sonnet yesterday.
Somehow I got home and, I guess, I thought
I'd written one at work. I cannot say
How much this disappoints me, when, as well
My readers know, I've gone to lengths beyond
What any normal poet would to tell
A story, share a thought or news, a fond
And friendly greeting. Something always comes
To lend me inspiration. Once I could
Rely on friends to nag me when I'm late
A-posting, but that never was a good,
Effective way to keep me to my vow.
I'm sad and kind of desolate right now.

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.

META SONNET: In Which I Narrowly Miss Repeating Myself

I'm off the rails, confronting what I've feared,
A near-miss repetition! Already
Have I, right in this blog, quite roundly cheered
A comic that I like. Perilously
I nearly wrote again about Chew; just
As I began to type I thought to check --
A step I hate to take, but take I must;
I'm fallible -- I'm grateful that this tech
I here employ allows so quick a search!
'Tis a good comic, but the world's still vast;
Too much so to repeat. Left in the lurch
A meta sonnet bails me out at last.
It's Frunday, and shift work has drained me dry.
Sometimes placeholder verse is all I'll try.

Meta Sonnet: In Which I Share A Fear

I live in mortal fear of that one day --

When it will be, I have no way to know --

When suppertime will pass, and more, and yea

A sonnet is not written. I will go

To lengths extreme and crazy to prevent

That day from coming, but I'm human. There

Will come a day when all that this has meant

To me will fall apart. I do not care

To see it soon. The pint glasses I'll stack

And stack up to the ceiling. All in all

Four hundred sixty nine rise high. One crack

In my resolve and ev'ry one will fall

And shatter with my pride. But it's not here,

That day, and will not come, I hope, this year.

In Which I Go All Meta Over My Ipod For @ParadiseTossed

Today, a brand new gadget came my way,

An iPod Touch, and so I join the rest

Of my geek fellows, all of whom will say

That most things things "i" are really quite the best

In terms of ease of use; no need to think

Too hard about exactly how one might

Accomplish what one wants to. Each night's sync

Can bring new tools, to one's complete delight,

New apps, which entertain and yes, inform,

And even which allow me to compose

New sonnets to my blog. And should a storm

Of thought come to me during my repose

No longer must I drag me out of bed;

I grab my toy, and share what's in my head.

In Which I Test Out A New Online Rhyming Dictionary

For John Ladd there's not much I wouldn't do

(Online at least), so when he asked me, Kate,

What's your take, we were won'dring, on the new

Web dictionary? How does Rhymebrain rate

Against what you are using now, since as

A formal poet you must do so lots?

I've played with it a few days now; it has

Potential to be useful, though it clots

One's screen with nonsense when asked for a rhyme

(Non-dictionary words you may weed out

Though it will list them with the rest, first time),

So much so that I'm quite inclined to doubt

It shall replace Rhymezone, though I shall try

It for a few more days to clarify.

Sonneteer's note: I shall write on this topic at great length, and in prose, soon for Paradise Tossed, the online journal of poetry and technology. I'll Tweet an alert when it is live and put a link to the article in the "Articles and Appearances" section of this web page. And yeah, this sonnet will probably be the springboard for the article, so you just got a sneak peek.

Meta-Sonnet: In Which I Have Amazed Myself

December thirty-first, Two Thousand Eight

A crazy resolution came to me

A daily sonnet -- wouldn't that be great?

But could I do it? I would have to see.

The first one concerned chicken soup I'd made,

And was my very first of any sort.

A year has passed; it's now a stock in trade

Of mine, composing sonnets, fast and short,

And far more than just one a day has come

Forth from these typing fingers, thanks to dares

And birthdays, and late-breaking news of dumb

And wondrous things, and as of summer, there's

The Interstellar Feller, too. What fun!

As New Year's Resolutions go, I've won!

Meta Sonnet: In Which The Sonneteer Contemplates Birthdays

These sonnets aren't as easy as they look,

Especially the birthday greetings, which

For all they've seemed like others, gen'rally took

A lot more work. Pentameter's a bitch

No matter what, but there is something more

When writing to one person something that

We all are saying: "Person I adore,

I hope your birthday's really where it's at!"

But in a way that makes it all about

That special guy or gal and not just some

Bad formula or something I've spit out

Just for the sake of getting the thing done.

But when I learn I've made that someone smile

I know that it's been worth it all the while!

Meta Sonnet: In Which I Consider The Role Of Technology In My Poetry For ParadiseTossed

Without the internet, they could not be,
These sonnets that I publish every day.
While, when first I did start, I thought I'd see
Some real-life inspiration in the play
Of people and events, quite soon I found
A richer vein on Twitter for ideas:
Those links and news which daily there abound
Are now essential; then, too, there's the squeeze
I sometimes put to friends there: sonnet dares.
Then, too, there is the question of research!
I am no chemist, for example. There's
No telling in what deeply horrid lurch
I'd be without those Wikis and RhymeZone.
I don't think I could write these all alone.

Meta-Sonnet: In Which I Rush To Write One For The Sake Of Writing One

As bad things happen all around me, still
I have to at least try to sonnetize
To keep my resolution. I'd be ill
And hate myself for days if compromise
Made this the day I at last failed to post
A sonnet here. Please pardon this, my haste.
Completing these is what I love the most
About my days this year. This seems a waste
Of syllables, this poem, but all I've got
Is seconds, it would seem. And now my brain
Seems to have sunk into a state of rot.
Its liquified and would run down a drain
Were I to hold my head near one and shake.
So now you know what little sense I make.

Meta-Sonnet: In Which I Dream Of A Better One

Today I wrote a sonnet in a dream,

Dreamed, too, that I had posted it right here,

Where this attempt is now. But it would seem

The adder whom I dreamed stole it. I fear

It was the best one that I ever wrote.

I certainly believed this as I slept.

I reach now for it, just to watch it float

Away. I sit and wish now that I'd kept

On sleeping, even though t'would be a waste

Of precious time, called free, that's really not

At all free. How I live my life, in haste

To reach these days, only to nap and rot

When they arrive! And yet, shining and rare

That sonnet, dreamed of, still awaits me there.

Sonnet Dare: An Acrostic Of My Former Twitter Username (Qatesiuradewyo)

Quick, Martin, throw that sonnet gauntlet down!
Apparently I said this at some point
To Martin Double-Dactyl master clown.
Essentially that's the story of this joint
(Spike Lee, I do apologize for that;
I don't think that you'll ever read this, though).
Unusually I don't feel I combat,
Rather I go quite smoothly with the flow
A sonnet should have as I take this dare.
Does this make me accomplished? I can't say,
Except it feels quite good, beyond compare.
Why, I think I could do this ev'ry day.
You'd probably get bored, though, if I did.
Oh Martin, here's your sonnet, crazy kid!

In Which I Prepare To Escape Into Life

A new notebook's an empty, perfect thing.

Its blankness is intimidating. Yet

Shall I soon mar it. Watch me as I fling

Myself into a sexy new project.

When Lethe Bashar invited me to join

His magazine's new Moleskine art bazaar,

I said "of course" before I thought what coin

Of spirit I could offer. I'm not far

Along in choosing what to use to fill

My journal. Sonnets, sure, but something more?

I'm still excited, trembling with the thrill

Of trying something new, but will I bore

His public, who one day ere long will buy

Escape Into Life's wares? The aim is high!

In Which I Basically Phone One In

I've been invaded by my mom and dad,

And last night, as they say, I overtrained.

I've no regrets, but really I'll be glad

To see this day end. Really, I'm quite drained.

Much wine, too little sleep, too much to do --

My parents shop hard when they come to town,

And there is dinner yet to whip up, too

And dominos to play ere I lay down

To properly sleep off all last night's fun.

But no hangover's ever going to stop

My writing this, my daily sonnet. One

Day I'll falter, let this program drop

But it won't be today, so here it is:

A meta-sonnet. Sure, I am a whiz!

On Meter-Swapping, And Why It Messes With My Head

A sonnet every day has been my vow,

As I did undertake on New Year's Eve.

I've never missed a day - please don't ask how -

And once 'twas underway I did believe

I'd no more frets 'bout getting each one done.

But then I got an idea I have held

In check -- until I succumbed to the fun

It offered: a mock-epic that would weld

Space opera with farce. Yet woe is me:

Ottava rima is the classic way

Those are constructed, it is plain to see.

It's not unlike a sonnet, some might say:

Ten syllables a line, iambic, yet

The rhyme's scheme's off and so's the length, you bet!