LIX to the lost hour of sleep that goes tonight

To the lost hour of sleep that goes tonight
Out somewhere between dreams and single socks,
I grieve your death, I think it is not right,
To yield you up each time we spring the clocks.
Does all lost time commingle in the void?
Arranged in cliques and old exclusive clubs,
Hours that lovers wish they could employ,
Or minutes used up looking for a glove?
I know your sacrifice brings longer days,
And promises of more sunshine and blooms,
But now beneath the moonlight's tired gaze,
Your time, now lost, would be to me a boon.
     This sign of springtime time promising its charms,
     Somehow always makes louder my alarm.
   
   

LVIII

It's been a long long day all filled with stress,
And petty grim annoyances that build,
Till everything feels done under duress,
And all desires just feel unfulfilled.
With toppling printers and some falling shelves,
And computers that shut down on their own,
A section rearranged by evil elves,
Who have un-alphabetized all my tomes.
These all burn in the wreckage of this day,
Along with customers that have a snit,
And want to correct all the grammar used,
In half the books that live in modern lit.
    The buzz of door alarms fuzzes my head,
     I've never been so turned on by my bed.

LVII I am the jerk in this relationship

And once again my sonnet, we're at war.
There cannot be a peace between us two,
We merely raise--not settle--any score,
You will not do a thing I ask you to.
If you would rhyme more gently to the page,
I could give you all sorts of flow'ry words,
About sweet love, times mut'ny, or this age,
But all you give me for this line is "birds".
Here lies the part where there should be a twist,
Or some great revelation past unknown,
I've not really been spending time on this,
You do not throw me either boon or bone.
   And while you scrub my syntax in the sink,
   Since we can't compromise, I'll go and drink.

LVI dear sir, i am seducing you tonight

Dear Sir, I am seducing you tonight.
Please be here promptly--hat in hand--at 9:00.
There's no need for alarm, for fight or flight,
Whatever you would like to wear is fine.
I've assembled some alcohol to choose:
From wine and beer, to mead, or pert champagne,
You'll take your time to ponder and peruse,
And pick whichever's best to take the blame
For letting all your inhibitions go.
Just toss them in the corner with your hat,
And keep the tie (it's handy) let things flow,
I think we've reached the end of all this chat.
   So grab your glass and take a couple sips,
   And now let me replace it with my






Inspired by this fantastic bit of Neil Gaiman-ness:
http://neil-gaiman.tumblr.com/post/18932682858/as-requested-by-too-many-people-making-the-last-post

LV sulky smokey Muse

My Muse is holed up in the bath tonight,
She's pouting and has slid the lock to say
She has no plans of turning on the light,
And thinks that I should take myself away.
I know that she is smoking in the dark,
For little wisps curl underneath the door,
Half hinted adjectives and nouns embark,
Then dissipate not far above the floor.
I only have their charred scent in my nose,
A bit like snow, a bit like summer dust,
They give me nothing even fit for prose,
But here I sit, and write something I must.
   So she will smolder, since she will not flame,
   And later I'll sneak in, and snake the drain.
 
 

LIV leg muscles

Extensor  Digitorum Longus there,
Is closest to the fibula tis true,
Extensor Hallucis Longus dwells where?
Just alongside, though that is nothing new.
The Fibularis Tertius deeper still,
Tibialis Anterior tops both,
These muscles long and varied have no frills,
Inversion, eversion, it is no joke.
There's dorsliflexion caused by these as well,
(That means the toes are pointing at the sky)
Who could have made all this I cannot tell,
I don't have energy to question why.
   If I complain, your patience I must beg,
   This is all just the anterior leg.

LIII Resident Milla

Though I am straight, I think Milla's a fox,

As Leelo she kicks every kind of ass,

She saves the world and cleans the baddie's clocks,

Always possessing special brands of class.

As Alice I confess I like her too,

She has absurd fight sequences down pat,

Gainst every kind of zombie thing with goo,

Though I must say it's starting to feel flat.

How many of these damn things can they make?

I think they're now at six, or is it five?

How much longer can this franchise go on,

Making all live things dead and dead things live.

   For now though I will let the questions end,

   Resident Evil 3 is on again.