Poem of the Week: For Those Who Were Born to Write

For Those Who Were Born to Write
September 12, 2014

Always on your feet, no time to yourself,
Always being hounded to serve everybody else,
Little to no chance to do what you need to do,
Little if any foresight to know that you’ll pull through,
But you keep on working anyways as guided by your will,
Swallowing the thought of rejection, that jagged little pill,
Trying to stay focused on the task sitting before you,
Resisting the urge to get sidetracked, should said task bore you,
Failing miserably at times ‘cause your work can be hard,
Trying to make sense and logic on a mostly blank white card
With details here, less details there, a fetching plot all the way through,
Relatable characters from start to end, all concocted by you.
What becomes of your work, though, when you’re at long last done?
Does it finally hit the shelves to be enjoyed by everyone,
Or do those in power dismiss it as naught but a waste of time
And cash and thus turn it down for something more sublime?
Should it be dismissed, too, just what is the excuse?
Is the recipient genteel, or does he/she feed you abuse,
And how long are you expected to go on without reward?
How many more years of rejected effort can you afford?
What else can you do? What else does it take
Before a legacy and a fortune you may make?
Even when you’re accepted, how long will your star shine?
Will the stories that you tell provide a literary gold mine
For readers to enjoy throughout the ages from then on out,
Or will you last only one tale and then be forgotten about?
Also, should you be famous, will you attain true fame
And deserve all the praise and riches you’re sure to attain,
Or will you be rightfully reviled for producing tasteless dreck
That only the most wayward individual would loathe to forget?
Such are the many questions that float through a writer’s head,
Producing enough uncertainly from which can spawn sheer dread,
But giving up is no option, if for naught but one reason:
Surrendering to one’s dubiety is never in season—
Not if one wishes, anyways, to make a career of one’s hobby,
Which is why—for me, at least—the solution is to continue to lobby
For my work to reach the masses on as broad a scale as I can
And hope that my words will be read by eyes from every land
And to turn what I love into something I can only love even more,
For who knows what the fulfillment of such a dream has in store
For me, should it ever happen? Thus, I hope you’ll excuse me,
For ‘tis time I proved to all just how dedicated I can be
And carry on in my mission to bring my work to life,
No matter the obstacles that threaten to burden me with strife.
I was born to write, after all, and keep on writing I will
Until my dreams are finally fulfilled. Ah, what a thrill!

*****

Author Pages: Smashwords.com

                          Amazon.com

                          Amazon.co.uk

Poem of the Week: My Troubles in 2014 with Windows Update

A pic of the popup with which I've been having issues previously this month

A pic of the popup with which I’d been having issues previously this month

DISCLAIMER: The following reverse sestina is NOT a guide on how to correct the error mentioned within, but rather a composition “inspired” by my dealings with this problem during the week of this poem’s composition. For information on how to cope with this issue, should you be experiencing it yourselves, please Google “Disable Windows Update Needs Your Help” or check out the following links:

Blogs.Technet.com
Eightforums.com
Social.Technet.Microsoft.com

My apologies to anyone who has been mislead otherwise by the title of this poem. Hopefully it will not prevent your enjoyment of this work, should you be willing to stick around and read it.

Thank you.
Dustin M. Weber

*****

My Troubles in 2014 with Windows Update
September 7, 2014

Forget you, Windows Update! You’re driving me insane.
You’re messing with my computer in ways I can barely explain.
Day by day, I’ve had to put up with your senseless stupidity.

It was in mid-August when I started going insane.
The number of installed updates to my computer was hard to explain—
Thirty-one, to be exact, and no thanks then to my stupidity,
I couldn’t understand why the system couldn’t automatically keep up
On its own, so I Tried downloading the files onto my computer
Until it was at last up to snuff, according to Windows Update.

Five days later, something I can even now just barely explain
Happened mere seconds after I’d booted up
In the form of a popup telling me I’d yet to update
In the past month, even though my computer
Was already up to speed. Honestly, what stupidity!
That’s only how I began, however, to go insane.

So then I agree to check for updates, bringing that screen up,
Hoping that doing so would benefit my computer.
When it was checking, though, the same popup went insane
With how it popped up every minute with its sheer stupidity
Telling me the same thing it did before about Windows Update.
So annoying was it, in fact, that words can only begin to explain.

Eventually, I was able to find new updates for my computer,
But had to restart it in hopes of being done with the stupidity
Once and for all. However, for reasons I just can’t explain,
The same popup returned days later asking me to update
My computer again, which I felt was little else than insane.
After all, wasn’t it only days earlier when I’d kept it up?

It’s been weeks later since, and I’m still coping with this stupidity
In being told my computer is in need of updates.
I can only guess by now just how long this will keep up—
Hopefully not too much longer, else I’ll be driven only more insane,
Lest there’s someone out there who can kindly explain
Just what the hell is going on with my computer.

It makes me wonder, too, if I’m the only one for whom Windows Update
Acts this way or if anyone else out there is going insane
After downloading new updates onto his or her computer.
This problem is just too baffling and frustrating for me to explain
In ways other than this, but hopefully this whole mess shan’t keep up
Much longer, for heaven knows how sick I am of all this stupidity.

*****

Author Pages: Smashwords.com

                          Amazon.com

                          Amazon.co.uk

PS: Credit for the pic used in this blog entry goes to “How to disable ‘Windows update needs your help’ pop-up in Windows 8/8.1 clients” by SEPANDUR (March 11, 2014) at Blogst.Technet.com. The poem itself, however, is the author’s own.

Poem of the Week: Wake-Up Call 2014 for Entertainment Supporters

Hello, readers!

For Heaven knows how many years now, the world of entertainment—books, television, cinema, music, and, at times, even video games—has been swimming in a pool of mediocrity based on both corporations’ fixation with profit and the masses’ ever-decreasing standards concerning the products they support. Even I can only imagine just how many hard-working and talented authors, musicians, screen writers, and game designers have struggled for months, years, and even decades only to have various publishers, studios, agents, and such dismiss their work as being worthless in favor of that which has proven to be little else than utter, indefensible trash by critics and audiences alike, yet has proven just as much to make oodles of money for the party/parties responsible for its very existence. Thankfully, not every movie, novel, album, TV program, and video game of questionable repute has proven to be a success, and I cannot help but exhale a sigh of relief every time I hear of some tacky, degrading, or simply lazily made product failing to achieve the success its makers had hoped for it. Unfortunately, one can also say the same for every product into which the creator(s) has/have put a lot of thought and effort, which makes me shake my head and wonder just how much certain people’s tastes have devolved in the past decade or two. Granted, decades past have produced their fair share of garbage as well, but thankfully, the passage of time has cleansed our collective memory of such shoddy work…that is, of course, until someone dares to remind us of such rubbish (e.g., chancing to see such an item on sale at a flea market or on a shopping website such as eBay or Amazon.com)

Regardless, thoughts of such a notion have inspired me to create the following Shakespearean sonnet, which I hope reflects what some of you might be thinking as well concerning 21st century media as we all know it. Without further ado, then, here’s Wake-Up Call 2014 for Entertainment Supporters. Enjoy!

*****

Wake-Up Call 2014 for Entertainment Supporters
September 2, 2014

How can something wretched attain great fame
And fortune in its mediocrity
When stuff exists that’s nowhere near as lame
Out there for the masses to hear and see?
Why can’t people smell stool for what it is
And move on to what they genuinely
Can perceive to be good within the biz
Of entertainment, messed-up though it be?
Why support a blatant, obvious hack
With the cash you’ve worked oh so hard to earn
When you know said hack’s work is naught but whack
And in the end will leave you oh so burned?
It’s time to toss the trash once and for all
‘Fore it further contributes to our fall.

*****

This hereby concludes this week’s poem. Thank you all for stopping by to read it, and if there’s any chance that any of you out there know of a particular movie, novel, TV show, et cetera out on the market today that you feel deserves much less praise/much more criticism than it has received, please don’t hesitate to leave a rant about it in the comments section below. I’m sure we all can recall at least one certain something that we cannot understand is as popular as it is/has been for whatever reason. Also, feel free to visit my author pages at Smashwords.comAmazon.com, and Amazon.co.uk to see which works I have available for purchase as well as my post on this blog about my latest project, The Kingdom of Somnia, to see if it is a project you would like to support, should it ever hit the market. Otherwise, folks, happy reading!

Regards,
Dustin M. Weber

Poem of the Week: A Little Respect Goes a Long Way

Hello, readers!

We’ve all had that certain someone in our lives who has treated us like absolute fecal matter on at lest one occasion out of his or her apparent need to put us down for one reason or another. Chances are, too, that we’ve never told that person just how their words have hurt us. Chances are, however, that if we had the mind to say something to these individuals, what we’d say would go along the lines of this week’s composition. Without further ado, then, here’s A Little Respect Goes a Long Way. Enjoy!

*****

A Little Respect Goes a Long Way
August 29, 2014

Don’t ever treat me like I’m stupid.
Don’t ever treat me like I’m dumb
Just ‘cause I like to do things my way
Or may act, at times, a bit numb.

Don’t talk down to me like I’m some child
When I don’t get things right away.
You don’t know just how my brain works,
And you’d hate me if I treated you that way.

Don’t insult, patronize, or berate me
When I chance to do something wrong.
I’ve feelings, too, after all, and don’t dance
To anyone’s bitter, scolding song.

Don’t yell or scream at me, either,
When I don’t do things your way.
It doesn’t help me do what I’m doing;
Your words just ruin my day.

Even if I’m as dense as you think I am,
You still have no right
To treat me with such scorn and disdain
And cause a scene with me on sight.

Such behavior’s just rude, condescending,
And degrading to the highest degree,
And it doesn’t help me improve at all
In doing what I do for thee.

I guarantee that if I did the same
To you, you’d wish me dead
Or at the very least lash out at me
And smack me in the head.

Nobody deserves that kind of treatment,
Save for the worst of our kind—
Those who hurt others deliberately
For their own sick sense of mind;

Those who think they’re beyond the rules
To which civilized folks adhere;
Who lie, cheat, steal, maim, and kill
So they can grin ear to ear.

Am I than much of a lowlife to you?
Is that the reason you feel
The need to put me down every chance you get?
Is that your deal?

If that’s the case, then I’ve news for you:
I’m not that kind of man.
I’m just going through life, working hard
And doing the best I can

To make things better for at least myself
And all who care about me,
And I don’t appreciate your belittlement
Of all that I do, you see.

I’m sorry I don’t live up to your standards.
I’m sorry you hate my guts.
I’m sorry you think I’m nothing more
Than a sorry, pathetic putz,

But that still doesn’t give you the right
To treat me like I’m worthless
And badger, browbeat, and berate me ’til
I’m left completely mirthless—

Especially if you feel that doing so
Is the sole way to empower
Yourself and surpass whatever pain
You feel at a given hour.

I’m a human being, too, after all—
One who’s trying to overcome
My own imperfections every which way
I can to be a better someone.

How, then, do you think I deserve
To be treated like utter crap—
Especially when I’ve never dumped any
Ill will into your lap?

Honestly, learn to do unto others
As you would have done unto you
And stop treating people like me like we’re
Somehow so beneath you,

For after all has been said and done,
Who’s to say you’ll be seen
As being the better person when
You’re naught but rude and mean?

A little respect goes a long way,
Don’t you know, and I hope you
Come to learn that soon, even if by
The hard way ‘fore your life’s through.

*****

Well, that should do it for today. I hope the poem above has resonated with some of you and will give you the strength you need to effectively to deal with anyone who dares to put you down in the fashion described within it. In the meantime, thank you all for stopping by, and please feel free to visit my author pages at Smashwords.comAmazon.com, and Amazon.co.uk. Otherwise, as always, folks, happy reading!

Regards,
Dustin M. Weber

Poem of the Week: Revision

Revision
August 21, 2014

Revision, revision, revision—that’s what it’s all about.
You’ve got to make sure it’s all perfect before you send it out.
Tedious and exhaustive, the task will bore you to tears
And is guaranteed to last for days, weeks, months, even years.
Miscaps here, misspellings there—such is how first drafts are:
Grammatical errors everywhere, marring your work like scars
While punctuation is here and there, but rarely in the right place
And sentence fragments and run-ons alike eave a nasty trace.
Worse yet, that’s all just mechanical—a challenge enough on its own.
Tending to the story itself, though, just might cut you to the bone,
Should your narrative be riddled with logic gaps out the butt;
Senseless elements randomly thrown in, leading you into a rut;
Weak character development producing characters so bland
That they kill readers’ interests in whatever situation’s at hand;
And a plot so copy-and-paste that we’ve all read it before,
Especially without the twists and turns to keep it from being a bore.
That’s just scratching the surface, too, of the problems you’ll come across,
But even with all that in mind, you shan’t be at a loss—
Not if you keep your eyes open, of course, and keep your nose
To the grindstone and your wits about you at all times. Then, who knows?
An otherwise laborious necessity will be easier to take
Into stride, and before you know it, much progress you will make
In mending error after error that you chance to spot
‘Til everything’s been corrected, and soon enough, all you’ve got
Is to polish everything up, and voila! Your work is done,
And you’ve earned for yourself the privilege of sending it off,
Hoping with all your heart and soul your recipients won’t scoff
At your steely perseverance and all of your hard work,
For those who break their backs for the business deserve all the perks.
Of course, there’s no chance in Hell for you to realize this vision
If you choose to neglect or fail to remember the need for revision.

*****

Author Pages: Smashwords.com

                          Amazon.com

                          Amazon.co.uk

Poem of the Week: Junior High Memories, Twenty Years Later

Hello, readers!

For this week’s “Poem of the Week,” I’ve decided to post yet another poem concerning school day memories and how painful they can be for some people. After all, while there are folks out there who’ve managed to enjoy the time they’ve spent in junior high and high school, the fact remains that adolescence doesn’t treat everyone kindly. In fact, even in today’s social climate, our growing collective awareness considering countless youth issues—from bullying and peer pressure to drugs and premarital sex to the spineless, clueless, and oftentimes outright soulless nature of certain teachers and other faculty members towards students—isn’t enough to prevent young people from going through growing pains. What’s worse is how such emotional distress often enough continues haunts those who endure it well after their younger years are over as painful adolescent memories that only enhance whatever anxiety, depression, and lack of self-worth such individuals experience throughout their lives.

Hopefully in this upcoming school year, teachers and other faculty members will do everything in their power to accommodate students and see to it that they don’t endure the same kind of anguish that other students have in years past. After all, today’s social order—American society in particular—needs all of the productive, well-grounded, high-functioning, and mentally and emotionally stable people it can get, and we’ve seen in the past just what can happen when school officials, parents, and anyone else in a position to help young people come to grips with the cold, harsh realities of the world fail to do just that. Without further ado, then, here’s Junior High Moments, Twenty Years Later.

*****

Junior High Memories, Twenty Years Later
August 14, 2014

Adolescence sure works in messed-up ways.
It sure did for me when I was of age.
I’m glad I don’t have to relive those days.

When my childhood forever went away,
I should have prepared for a darker age.
Adolescence sure works in messed-up ways.

People treated me like crap day by day
Just ‘cause they and I weren’t on the same page.
I’m glad I don’t have to relive those days.

Plus, good grades didn’t always come my way,
Despite the smarts I still had at that age.
Adolescence sure works in messed-up ways.

Worse yet’s how I don’t get, even today,
Why then had to be such a painful age.
I’m glad I don’t have to relive those days.

Was some twisted conspiracy at play,
Keeping me from turning to that next page?
Adolescence sure works in messed-up ways.
I’m glad I don’t have to relive those days.

*****

And there you have it folks—another poem dedicated to trials and tribulations of the average American teenager. Thank you all once again for stopping by to read what I have to say about this issue, and by all means, feel free to search this blog for other poems about topics similar to this one. Don’t be afraid, either, to visit my author pages at Smashwords.comAmazon.com, and Amazon.co.uk to see what books I have available on the market at the moment, and in future posts, I hope to have some positive news to share concerning my latest project, The Kingdom of Somnia. In the meantime, however, here’s to a happy and successful school year for 2014-15, and until we meet again, happy reading!

Regards,
Dustin M. Weber

Poem of the Week: The Brain Drain Limerick Chain

The Brain Drain Limerick Chain
August 4, 2014

Have you ever felt you’re getting dumber
As though your brain was growing number,
Just rotting away
In your head day by day?
Ain’t such a sensation a bummer?

It’s like one day, you were smart,
The you suffer a massive brain fart
That hits you like no other—
So much, you can’t recover,
And such is only the start.

Next thing you know, things you once knew
Suddenly become foreign to you,
And your drained knowledge pool
Colors you as a fool
In everything you say and do.

Your grammar’s all wrecked to crap:
No punctuation, all initial caps,
Misspelled words a-bunch—
Some as simple as “lunch,”
And sentences forced together and slapped.

Your math is a joke, in addition,
Where even simple addition
Becomes a big chore
As well as a bore
And is always in need of revision.

Even reading takes hours on end—
More than you would ever spend,
No matter the book.
Really, just one look
Will make your poor mind twist and bend

‘Til it’s naught but a cerebral knot,
And you’ve lost all sense of the plot
Of the tale you’re being told,
And you’re left feeling old
And senile from your mental clot.

What can you do, then, when you’re numb
In the head and feel so dang dumb?
What tasks can you take?
What moves can you make
To send your dazedness on the run?

Do you just need a little nap
To help you escape your trap,
Or are you so ill
That you take a pill,
Despite drugs’ deserved bad rap?

Do you switch your attention elsewhere
Until you’re finally “all there”
And return to taking on
The task you were on,
Now that you’re finally prepared?

Do you simply give up and give in
And let your mental glitch win,
Then wallow in defeat
And pity so sweet
All ‘cause of this bind you’re in?

Or do you keep trudging along,
Trying to keep your morale strong
In spite of dull senses
And crippled defenses
That might help your dullness along?

Such is the question I wonder
When slowed wits hit me like thunder
During a summer storm,
Making my mind worn
As my brain cells get torn asunder.

Worse yet is my growing fear
That the condition I speak of here
May have no real cure,
Leaving my brain impure
And getting worse year after year.

*****

Author Pages: Smashwords.com

                          Amazon.com

                          Amazon.co.uk