Friday Flash: In Which Escape Is Achieved

Sonneteer's note: this is the sixteenth installment of my sonnet-by-sonnet summary of a larger work, The Interstellar Feller, to be released sometime next year. Last week's installment and links to all previous can be found here.

As quickly as they made appearance, all

Those doppelgangers on the bridge, they're gone.

Pepito's arms are empty now -- recall

A whole 'nother Yectara got it on

With him, one with no cybernetic limbs.

His own is 'crossed the bridge and says "On screen."

The cacogens comply; the deck's light dims;

And looming there, a wash of red and green,

A planet, round which orbits now the ship.

The Grokulator's free of all pursuit.

And without being asked, her crew doth skip

To its repairing duties. Pepito, cute,

Just gapes now at the sight before his eyes.

His mistress, meanwhile, plans a new surprise.

Friday Flash: Make It Stop!

Sonneteer's note: this is the thirteenth installment of my sonnet-by-sonnet summary of a larger work, The Interstellar Feller, to be released sometime next year. To see the story so far, check out Part the Oneth here, Part the Twoth here, Part the Threeth here, part the Fourth here, Part the Fiveth here, Part the Sexieth here, Part the Seventhuth here, Part the Octthhhh here , Part the Ninth here, Part the Tenth here , Part the Eleventh here and Part the Dodecothhh here. And yes, this will be a podcast sometime in the new year.

"Yectara, we know what you have aboard"

A thousand creepy voices buzz and hiss

Directly down Pepito's spinal cord

Or so it feels like. Something's quite amiss.

Around the room his fellows all convulse

And his bright lady fair looks like she'll retch

Or whatever a cyborg who's repulsed

By what she feels might do should something catch

Her off her guard like this. "How dare you bring

Such foulness from this system?" says the swarm

Of voices? Signals? Vibrations that sting

E'en as they move along the nerves? What form

Would such who speak this way nat'rually take?

Pepito blocks such thoughts as his knees quake.

BONUS SONNET: In Which I Try To Win A Poster For Duncan Jones' MOON Movie

I do declare: the geekiest of things
On my agenda's writing sonnets on
Assorted geekeries. The joy this brings
Is glorious. I haven't yet withdrawn
From any challenge: write on Battlestar
Galactica with Peanuts characters?
On watching telescope repair afar?
On building Magic decks and how this stirs
Imagination more than playing does?
On taking Mom and Dad to see Star Trek
And what a great experience it was?
To these and more I have said what the heck,
Poured out my love in merely fourteen lines.
And in this task all that I love combines.

The Parent Trek

It's no surprise that Mom wanted to see

The Star Trek flick, but what to do with Dad?

We thought that Earth would do, but wow! Then he

Said no he'd go to Trek with us. He's had

Experience with outer space movies:

He took us to see Star Wars after all

(Ne'er mind that that was in the 70s!).

And so we went, all three, and had a ball.

"A good light show," was Dad's review, while Mom,

Quipped "they sure hid that well" 'bout Mr. Spock

And (spoiler zapped; we'll just defuse that bomb).

While I am still recov'ring from the shock:

Shizuma Drives and Ultranauts, last time

I checked were not canon, but that's no crime.

Happy Mother's Day - Geek Love Edition, OR Why I Haven't Seen Star Trek Yet

She taught me how to use objective case,
And what a linotype machine was for.
She handled with most admirable grace
When betimes, as she vacuumed the floor
A shotgun shell blew up in the machine.
Likewise when village small fry mistook her
For Grandmother ( her grey hair, from a gene
She shared with me, came early, as it were).
She taught me young to love the ancient Greeks
And stars and sci-fi, gin and Chinese food.
No wonder I count us among the geeks.
All this while married to a cop. But, dude!
E'en so I must love this gal quite a lot.
I'm waiting to see Trek with her, distraught!

R.I.P. Patrick McGoohan

The Prisoner was once my fav'rite show
(Or one of them, at least; they've not been few),
This though I was born years after the blow
Of yanking it was dealt to those of you
Who saw it in its actual heyday.
It baffled me, which few TV shows try;
It rarely bothered to explain its plot,
It never spat contempt at my mind's eye
A quality that I enjoy a lot.
It scared me, too, the Rover and the town,
The chill succession of those Numbers One,
These frightened me more than even a clown
And Number Six used brains 'stead of a gun
To try to make his daring weird escapes.
Be Seeing You. At least I still have tapes...