Bonus Poem of the Week: Freedom Call of a Former Comic Book Reader

Freedom Call of a Former Comic Book Reader
August 24, 2016

I just don’t care anymore.
It matters not what’s in store.
I chose to walk away,
After all, one day,
On account of things being a bore.

I don’t care about all the buzz.
The industry ain’t what it was
Once upon a time
When things were sublime,
So please don’t waste my time, cuz.

This new stuff you’re showing me
Ain’t what the old stuff used to be—
Not that it’s that bad
Compared to what I had.
It simply isn’t for me.

The characters in this brand
Range from uninspired and bland
To obnoxious and dumb
To where I succumb
Tearing this issue ‘part with my hands.

These plots, too, are plain asinine,
Written by some uncultured swine
With no love for the lore
This brand once had in store,
Which had once made it a fave of mine.

The heroes I used to root for
Have all been killed off by the score,
Dying left and right,
Never again to fight
Which alone sickens me to the core…

‘Til I se they’ve been replaced by geeks,
Losers, morons, hypocrites, and freaks
Whom I’ll never care about
‘Cause this crap’s gone far south
With the likes of such miserable “tweaks.”

The villains also do nothing
To add any kind of zing
To these boring-ass yarns
Of which I’ve been forewarned,
Which makes me more tempted to fling

This issue into my waste bin,
For that’s the mood I’m now in:
Dejected and betrayed
At the mess that’s been made
Of my once-fave franchise. What a sin!

Then again, you seem to take to
What I’m now calling crap, don’t you?
That’s why you’re still standing
Here while I’m demanding
These shenanigans to be through.

You clearly enjoy this stuff
To the point where you can’t get enough.
That’s why you came to me,
Ain’t it, so I can see
In hopes I wouldn’t be so gruff?

You’d hoped I’d catch on to your mirth
And join in, for all it’s worth,
In everything that which
Leaves you in a stitch,
And yet, here I see no such worth.

I hope, then, you can forgive me
For crying ‘bout how things used to be
And how much they’ve changed
And have been rearranged
Since the days I was as young as thee.

Here, then. Take your comic back
So that at night when you hit the sack,
You’ll have something to
Invest yourself into
While I’m left alone resting on my back.

Let’s face it: My days as a fan
Of the industry are gone, young man.
Like I said, ‘twas my choice,
So who’m I to voice
My disdain like some shell of a man?

I’m glad, then, that there’s someone
Who can garner an iota of fun
From something I don’t,
Whether I’ll try or won’t
‘Fore the fading of Heaven’s hot sun.

To each one’s own, after all,
So there’s no sense in bouncing off walls,
‘Specially since I’ve moved on
Like I’ve said in this song,
Which I guess one could call my freedom call.


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Poem of the Week: Another Random Inspiration Poem

Another Random Inspiration Poem
August 23, 2016

Always whining,
Always complaining—
Complaining about work,
Complaining about life,
Life so complicated,
Life so chaotic,
Chaotic and frustrating,
Chaotic for everyone.
Everyone suffers.
Everyone struggles—
Struggles at home,
Struggles at work.
Work on what you have to.
Work on what you’ve got.
Got to pull yourself together!
Got to shape up!
Up against a wall?
Up between a rock and a hard place?
Place your head in the game.
Place your feet on the ground.
Ground yourself.
Ground your goals—
Goals you want to accomplish,
Goals you know you can achieve.
Achieve success,
Achieve greatness—
Greatness you know awaits you,
Greatness that lies within us all.
All you need is faith.
All you need is discipline—
Discipline to plan the future,
Discipline to work hard,
Hard for what you want,
Hard for what’s best for others,
Others who believe in you,
Others who care about you—
You for all you’re worth,
You in all you do.
Do what’s right for them.
Do what’s right for yourself—
Yourself your own maker,
Yourself your own keeper,
Keeper of fortune,
Keeper of prosperity.
Prosperity can be yours.
Prosperity for tomorrow.
Tomorrow can be yours.
Tomorrow, then, straighten yourself out.


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Bonus Poem of the Week: Blissful Ignorance (A Haiku Chain to Help Me Get Over a Really Stupid TV Show I Once Saw as a Kid)

Blissful Ignorance (A Haiku Chain to Help Me Get Over a Really Stupid TV Show I Once Saw as a Kid)
August 20, 2016

No regard for the
Lore, sloppy animation,
And mindless writing—
Such was the nature
Of the story I’m trying
To forget from years
Ago in the past
That I was dumb enough to
Watch in the first place.
Why I ever tried
Watching that trash, I can but
Guess, not know for fact.
Maybe it was my
Penchant to give new things a
Chance that did me in
‘Long with my boredom
In the “same old thing” I’d seen
Too much of back then.
Maybe it was plain
Morbid curiosity
That drew me to it
Like a moth to flame
Or like the masses to a
Chuck Lorre sitcom.
Maybe I was just
What I’ve nowadays come to
Hate: a mindless drone
Who watches that which
He’s told to, like so many
Kids are thought to be—
Not that kids are dumb
By default, but many kids
Happen to be so.
I sure was in that
I tried to find some kind of
Merit in the thing
And stuck around for
Some time, yet come up empty-
Handed ev’ry time
I tried to fish for
Anything that would prove the
Show was any good.
My memory since
Has been tainted by its mere
Existence, and I
Can’t seem to get it
Out of my head no matter
How hard I’ve tried, for
No matter what I
Say or do, the memory
Will linger. What’s worse:
I brought all this crap
Upon myself simply by
Checking out their dreck
In the first damn place,
Leaving myself alone to
Blame for the nightmares
That fester within
My brain today even as
I write this message,
Haunting, lingering,
Pestering me…all ‘cause I
Just had to answer
The call to check out
Something I was better off
Leaving well alone.
Don’t be like I was.
Don’t let curiosity
Let you do dumb crap.
Know crap when you see
It and let it be before
It takes over your
Mind and leaves you with
Bad memories that no one
Should have to ensure.
Take it from me: Crap
Stinks, no matter the smell, and
Should be avoided
At all costs, lest you
Want the same jaded mindset
With which I’m dealing.
Trust me…it’s not worth
It. Instead, live your life in
Blissful ignorance.

PS: Bonus points and bragging rights to he or she who can name the TV show I’m referencing in the poem above.😉


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Poem of the Week: Mix It Up

Mix It Up
August 15, 2016

Day after day after day after day,
Doing the same thing the same old way
With little variation from day to day…
That’s no way to put on a show. No way!

Yes, you need a formula for any show,
But you’re supposed to be “variety.” Are you? No!
Not when you keep on airing the same old shorts
With the same old folks in the same spots, sport.

Your show’s long become predictable as Hell,
And because of that, it’s gotten boring as well—
Not a good adjective for what’s supposed to be
A much-beloved, time-honored comedy.

You’ve got to mix it up, man. Keep things fresh.
You already know how well your cast members mesh.
Now try them out in different roles and let them expand
Their talents so as to better reinvigorate your brand.

Stop acting out the same skits over and over again.
Bring out some of the old ones that we haven’t seen since when
You were at your finest and switch up the ones you’ve got
So that they play out differently before they start to rot.

Stop recycling the same tired old jokes, too,
Come up with some new ones to keep folks fixed on you,
And please…none of that crude crap we’ve heard from other shows—
That childish, lowbrow, crass shtick that only brings folks woe.

Why else, after all, do you think we tune in to you?
It’s ‘cause we’ve long been entertained by what you used to do
Until you kept on repeating the same exhausted lines.
That’s why many have walked away, leaving you behind.

Another way you can get this problem resolved,
Look to unused talent and get them involved
Like those two funny women whose humor we’ve enjoyed
And those veterans who came back, yet you’ve underemployed.

Your weekly guests, while a mixed bag, aren’t special anymore,
And to see them get so much spotlight has become a chore.
No matter how good they may be, their talent rarely compares
To the proven in-house favorites you already have there.

You craft your games around them and the projects they’re a part of
To the point where you’ve ignored the crew we’ve come to love.
Where’s your sense of being, identity, and pride?
Do you really need these outsiders to get crowds to come and see?

Nostalgia isn’t everything. That I know for sure,
But once upon a time, my enjoyment was pure
In the show you used to put on, yet don’t anymore
Because of the unvaried content you’ve had for us in store.

For the love of Heaven, then, mix it up right away!
Give us something fresh ‘fore we all go away
And leave you with naught but gluttons for mediocrity
In your loyal fanbase with no demand for quality.

It’s not too late to change, and change I hope you do—
Not just for my sake, either, but for all who love you.
Just give us the variety you used to give back in the day,
And you’ll be awesome once more. Please trust in what I say.


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Poem of the Week: Blast from the Past

Blast from the Past
August 8, 2016

It’s all about the money—a matter of financial power.
It’s all about capitalizing on the fad of the current hour,
One fad being our nostalgia for what we loved back then,
But I recall once upon a time when it wasn’t that way, friend.

Back then, people had imagination and thus new stories to tell,
And despite a handful of frayed knots, most of these yarns spun out well
And captivated the attention of those who lent eyes and ears,
And these same stories have pleased the masses year after year after year.

So much have they done so, in fact, that the media today
Wants to retell these same tales in a new, updated way
In hopes of making money from those who once knew them well
And today’s youngsters to whom said tales might be fresher to sell.

Sad thing is, though, while the original tales still stand the test of time,
Their retellings rarely live up to them and as such aren’t as sublime,
And today’s kids must live with the media rehashing the stuff—
The same thing of which we older folks in the day couldn’t get enough.

Comparisons can easily be drawn between the versions two,
And the less each new version lives up to the old, the more it’s screwed
Because of the lore we’d been given in the first, which resonates
With us to the point where all but the slightest changes we come to hate.

The less someone or something in the new story represents
The same in the older version, the more we feel the need to vent
On account of him, her, or it lacking the same qualities
That made us love him, her, or it in the original stories.

It’s not just unfaithfulness, either, that rubs us the wrong way.
There, too, must be logic in all that the characters do and say,
For ignorant writing is ignorant writing, no matter the form it takes,
And there’s no excuse for any story to thrive on a plot half-baked.

Not only must the laws governing the story’s setting match
Those of the original setting for the new tale to be a blast,
But the series of events within it and how each character acts and thinks
Must follow a believable rationale for the new story to not stink.

Additionally, the tone of the tale must be like it was before
If one hopes to keep the audience invested in what else is in store—
Strong enough to keep older fans intrigued, fresh enough for the new,
And unique enough to stand on its own its whole revival through.

Alas, the media oft forgets these simple rules of retooling
And only think of the cash they’ll be making and the folks they’ll be fooling
By essentially creating something “new” that’s been done before,
Albeit not as well and often without any sense of resemblance or lore.

They think the name of the story alone will be enough of a draw,
Yet do little to nothing to ensure a product free of flaw
When the truth is that even minor details can make or break
Any product today, thus leaving the maker’s reputation at stake.

Why, then, are producers so surprised when what they’d think would be
Guaranteed masterpieces turn out to be junk to you and me?
Why do so many of these endeavors churn out such tedious chores
For the masses to labor through without trying to get enraged or bored?

Why, too, do so many flip their feces when audiences reject
Their retelling of classic tales and go out of their way to protect
The honor of their project, even when doing so backfires
And exposes them as thin-skinned cowards and sometimes even as liars?

Is it really that hard to create something new in this day and age?
Is it really that hard to walk away from the past and turn a new page
In the book of time and develop something that would hold a candle to that
Which we used to know and love back in the day? Answer me that!

I know originality gets harder each year to come by,
But that’s no excuse for the media to throw up their hands and not try,
‘Cause humanity thrives on variety, and to deny them such a choice
Won’t do favors for anyone, so why not call upon a new voice?

Why not step aside and let someone new tell what story he or she
Has to share with the world and prove to us all just how things can be
When we stop recycling the same tired tales and hear something fresh
That just happens to appeal to the masses? Wouldn’t that help things best?

Sure, we’ve had flops ‘long the way, but as I’ve already said,
This constant retelling of tales too well known may surely leave things dead,
For playing safe is only smart for so long ‘til things get tough,
And what will you do, sister/brother, when things truly get rough?

Quite frankly, you’d know my course, for how much clearer can I make it,
And as for this ceaseless blast from the past, how much more can you take it?
After all, more people than you know have been ready to move on,
So for crying out loud, give us something new! Is making that request so wrong?


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Bonus Poem of the Week: Don’t Like It? Then Leave It!

Don’t Like It? Then Leave It!
August 5, 2016

Don’t like it? Then leave it and don’t come back.
Don’t sit there stamping your feet like the brat
You are and demand that things go your way.
It ain’t gonna happen ‘cause that ain’t the way
The people to whom you’re whining operate,
So spare us all your pettiness and hate
As well as your misconceptions of perfection.
You want change? Shut up and make your defection
‘Cause you keep on bitching ‘bout the same damn thing
Every time you open your mouth to sing,
Even when you finally get what you want
‘Cause you apparently can’t help but flaunt
Your asinine opinion of one tiny thing
Over and over again until it stings
The brains of those unfortunate to read it.
We get it, nitpicker. Now shut up and beat it!
Also, I’m sure you’d say the same thing to us
For getting so upset and causing a fuss
Over something we’ve read that we could’ve ignored,
But now you’re spamming your opinion like you’re bored
When once could’ve and should’ve been enough,
But no! Once wasn’t enough of the stuff
In your little mind ‘cause you’re trying to change those
Of the people running things with your groundless woes.
Have your opinion if you want, but stop
With the constant ranting, which’ll get you nowhere, pop.
Just grow up and move on. That’s all there is to it.
Don’t want to operate that way? Screw it!
You’ve had your say, sir. Now cut the crap!
We’re sick and tired of your petty, childish rap.
You’re just being a pain. That’s all there’s left to say.
Now please crawl back into your hole and stay
‘Cause you’re adding nothing to anything anymore
But a pain in our necks. Mine’s especially sore.


As Colin Mochrie would say... "SHUT UP!!! JUST SHUT UP AND DO IT!

As Colin Mochrie once said…

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Poem of the Week: The Criticism Poem

The Criticism Poem
August 3, 2016

People ain’t always friendly. People ain’t always nice,
But that’s still no excuse to let your sensitivity become a vice,
‘Cause no matter how critical folks might be of the stuff you make,
You can’t always fire back at them, especially with words half-baked.

Let’s say some senile, whiny manchild yearly rants on and on
About how you “don’t do anything new” on a certain show you’re on
And instead “keep doing the same old crap” without proving his point
And keeps using the same old tired-ass words to stink up the joint.
Would you cave in and let his groundless hypocrisy get to you,
Or would you rise above it and let others’ love for you see you through?
Would you rather listen to constructive critiques of what you’re doing wrong
Or let some bitter dunce keep ragging on you with the same old song?

Even if the masses hate your stuff, you can’t flip your feces, friend,
And trash them or their opinion, lest you wish to see a bitter end
And be recalled as a jackass for biting the hand that could have fed you
And stepping on those who’ve supported you in what good you used to do.
People are allowed to have legitimate criticisms, after all,
And point out flaws in your work that are there so that you won’t take a fall
With your next project, so what’s the point in screaming up a storm
As though they’re clueless idiots whose bodies are still moist and warm
From recently slithering out of their mothers’ bellies? Tell me, friend,
How else you believe a person’s career can be brought to an end.

Also…all you’ve heard about trolls? Guess what: It’s all true.
The cowardly pranksters exist and are out to get folks like you
Whose paper-thin skin is too weak to endure their razor-sharp tongues
And the toxic trash they spew out from their foul mouths and filthy lungs,
And for you to take them seriously will surely cause your demise,
So mind the sincere, and when it comes to trolls, screw those guys!
Honest, sincere critique is what should matter to folks these days,
Even if it’s not what you “want” to hear in any sort of way.
Otherwise, how well will you improve at the craft that earns you cash?
That in mind, keep your ears and eyes open, and please don’t be an ass
By giving any flack back to anyone for any reason,
‘Cause trust me, bub, no matter the case, backtalk is never in season.

Now, wise up, smarten up, screw your heels in, and bite your bottom lip,
‘Cause you’re bound to be judged no matter what, be it gently or straight from the hip,
And keep the words that make the most sense separate from the verbal farts,
And I’m sure you’ll find it much easier to grow as a student of your art.
It’s like I’ve said, after all: Folks aren’t always kind, so grow a spine
And hope for the best while expecting the worst, fellow artist of mine.


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