Poem of the Week: Down but Not Quite Out

Down but Not Quite Out
November 21, 2015

Not knowing where to go, not knowing what to do,
Not knowing who I am or who I’ll be when I’m through,
Never proud of my merits, no matter what praise I get,
Always seeing upcoming ventures as “the worst one yet.”

Never thinking I’ll get anywhere in life,
Especially where I want to be with all my personal strife,
Wishing I was a winner from when I was born ‘til now,
Wondering if I ever was, and if I was, then how?

After all, with all of the mistakes I’ve made
Has come a great price that I still haven’t fully paid.
When will I stop paying? Honestly, I can but guess.
Hopefully soon, though, for I expect to pass this test,

And hopefully I can still be a winner one day.
Really, I wish it would happen in the worst way.
Maybe it will happen once I get my act together
And bring upon myself some change in the “whether,”

And yes, I spelled that “whether” as in “whether or not”
I’ll at last earn what I want or stay with what little I’ve got.
I’d like to have the money to help support my family
And daily prove to be the best person I can be.

That day hasn’t come yet, but I’m hoping that it will
Once I hoist my carcass out of my self-pity and swill
And actually apply myself to the goals I wish to achieve.
All I really need is to have discipline and believe,

And who knows? All this drama just might become history
As would be true with all my lousy insecurity.
Wouldn’t that be great? Oh, how my voice would ring the rafters
If I could at long last live happily ever after.


Author Pages: Smashwords.com



Bonus Poem of the Week: Future of Fortune

Future of Fortune
November 18, 2015

Trying to make a living, trying to be a man,
Not exactly succeeding, but doing the best I can,
Relying on my own money—what’s left of it, leastways—
Not wanting to rely on others’ cash as I live day to day.

Trying to be a good person to the folks surrounding me,
As compassionate and considerate as I can possibly be,
Even towards the scumbags who treat me like I’m trash,
No matter how much I want to kick any of them in the ass.

Trying to work my own ass off at what I love to do
In hopes that it takes me somewhere and makes my dreams come true.
Trying to be smart and diligent in my quest to secure my place
And prove to the world, both friend and foe, that I’m not a disgrace.

Still, no matter what I do, no matter how hard I work,
No matter how much I try to not make myself look like a jerk,
No matter how I tend to my health and financial security,
Something happens that makes me shake my head and ask, “Why me?”

Whether it’s agents scoffing at my work like I’m some bum
Or my health insurance company jacking up my premium
Or my own stinking cowardice getting the better of me,
There’s something going on in my life that just won’t let me be.

Clearly I’ve done something wrong to bring this upon myself—
To make myself a pauper, lower than anyone else.
Was I that lazy as a child in forging my destiny?
Was I that stupid to not figure out just what I wanted to be?

Did I tick off the wrong person? Did I say something wrong
To put myself on the Powers That Be’s blacklist for oh so long?
Did I do or not do something to derail me from my success?
Ah, but if I could figure out the source of my distress!

Then again, time travel doesn’t exist in this reality,
And who knows the paradoxes I’d cause in my quest to see
Myself in a better place than what I’ve put myself in?
Would the world turn out for the better or even more wracked with sin?

Also, what’s the point in hoping for a second life,
Reincarnation or otherwise, to save me from this strife
When I’ve got this life to live right now and make up for my mistakes?
Such is all I’ve got now in the face of these grave stakes.

Well, whatever the case may be, it’s time I screwed in my heels,
For only I can save myself from this unbearable deal.
I’ve made this mess for myself ultimately, and now,
It’s up to me to clean up my act and save myself somehow.

No more messed-up priorities! No more screwing around!
No more childish excuses keeping me tied to the ground!
I’ve done enough in my life to hold me back from destiny,
And no matter who or what else might be getting in the way of me,

From now on, it’s up to me to at last set things straight.
I’ve suffered long enough within the folds of this fate,
And anyone who might want to help me can’t, plain and simple,
While those who ought to would much rather fester like pimples

On a teenage face, and Heaven knows my teenage days are done.
Never mind my childhood. I’m that far from being young,
And I’m not getting any younger, either, so plague my wretched stalling!
It’s time to put this pity party to rest and heed my calling.

Look out, future of fortune! Here I finally come
To accept responsibility for my fate and become
The person I’ve long meant to be and forge my legacy
In hopes of bettering the world for others as well as for me.


Author Pages: Smashwords.com



Poem of the Week: Courage in the Face of Despair

Dear readers:

The following poem is dedicated to those who have lost someone in the terrorist attacks this past Friday in Paris. Usually, I prefer to stay away from issues that are this grisly for fear of exploiting them, but on the same token, I would be out of line not to wish the victims’ loved ones well in their efforts to cope with this terrible situation. Please forgive this tardy response, then, and let it be known that my thoughts and prayers are with you folks.

Dustin M. Weber


Courage in the Face of Despair
November 16, 2015

One moment, things for you are going well—
Could not be better, in fact, you might say.
Then something suddenly damns all to hell,
Leaving you smashed and shattered in some way.
Try though you might to pick the pieces up,
Putting them back together’s not easy.
Remembering how they fit can be tough,
And even success can leave you queasy.
Still, you must stay strong, rooted in your task
To overcome the odds, grim though they be,
For your courage is all that one can ask
For in the wake of bleak reality.
Keep a steady mind, then, and a stout heart
As you make for yourself a brand new start.

Poem of the Week: Up to You

Up to You
November 6, 2015

Letting go of the past can be tricky to do,
But if you want to move forward, it’s up to you.

No one can live in the past forever, it’s true,
But if you want to try, then hey—that’s up to you.

I’d rather live for tomorrow than yesterday,
But if that’s not your style, then that is up to you.

I’ve too much of a future to waste on “back then,”
But if that’s what you want, then friend, that’s up to you.

I’ll leave my pain in yesteryear, where it belongs,
But if you wish to suffer yours, that’s up to you:

The teasing, the torture, the brazen foolishness—
If that’s what you want, then again, it’s up to you.

The suffering, the drama, and all that comes with them—
Is that what you really want? Well, it’s up to you.

Clinging to what could have been rather than what is
When things can’t be helped anymore? That’s up to you.

Reliving nightmares that were grim reality
Back when you were younger? That, too, is up to you.

Hugging nostalgia desp’rately in the vain hope
That what you once knew will return? That’s up to you.

Reliving tragedy with which you’ve had to cope
That took a lifetime to do so? Hey, up to you.

Wishing the present was naught but a bad dream while
Living in your own reality? Up to you.

Me, on the other hand, I’ll be moving forward.
Should you care to join me, that, too, is up to you.

I hope you do, though, so we can both leave the past
In the past where it belongs, but hey—up to you.

It’s just that dwelling on the pain of old isn’t
My scene these days. If it’s yours, though, that’s up to you.

Just don’t say I didn’t warn you when it all starts
Haunting you all over again (‘Twas up to you.)

And leaves you forever scarred emotionally.
I’m giving you this one chance, and it’s up to you.

So, what will it be—embracing what just might be
Or hanging on to what once was? It’s up to you.


Author Pages: Smashwords.com



Poem of the Week: A Message to Madam Doubt

Hey, readers!

Sorry I’m as late as I am in posting this latest poem of mine. I don’t have a good excuse for my tardiness, but I nonetheless hope this composition was worth the wait. Please enjoy, and thank you all for your support.

Dustin M. Weber


A Message to Madam Doubt
November 6, 2015

I am not stupid. I am not dumb.
I’m not the loser you think I’ve become.
I’m not as useless as you’d like to say
Just ‘cause I don’t ace it all right away,

Yet you belittle me each chance you get,
Scoffing at the lack of success I’ve met,
Scolding me for even tiny mistakes
I’ve made ‘long the way. Give me a break!

How many folks get it right the first try?
Am I so worthless that you want me to die?
I know claiming I’m only human’s cliché,
But are my flaws so grand that I need to pay

In the worst way possible? Gee, that’s extreme,
And not quite constructive, if you know what I mean.
What have I done to prove I’m a curse—
A thorn in the side of humanity or worse?

Besides, even you’re not perfect, my dear,
So in terms of insults, you’d better steer clear,
Lest you wish for me to expose all your faults
To the world. Don’t believe me? Let’s open the vault.

To start off, you’re an arrogant, overbearing nag
Who’s quick to find fault in others and rag
‘Bout how inferior others are in your eyes
And, to you, which virtues they have are lies.

The way you hide behind your scorn, furthermore,
Sickly exposes what you have in store
As far as personal issues go,
Which you take out on others, much to their woe,

With such frequency that it makes me puke
And criticisms towards you, you swiftly refute—
Often enough screaming like Debra Barone,
Shrieking defiantly with a banshee’s shrill tone.

Such is how two-faced you can be,
Wreaking with fetid hypocrisy
With plenty of stench to fill any room
Which I’m surprised hasn’t led to your doom,

But fear not, for lest you clean up your act,
Your obnoxiousness shall stab you in the back
And leave you writhing on the floor in pain
While “bottom feeders” like me finally gain

All we’ve struggled for and all we’ve cared about,
Even while hearing hate spew forth from the mouths
Of people like you who fail to believe
We’re worth anything and will someday achieve

Any of that which we’ve been fighting for:
Justice, redemption, prosperity, and more.
We’ve got what it takes. Just you wait and see,
And you shall soon witness what we can be

And how what we do can change the world,
So sit back and watch the future unfurl
And prepare to eat all your disparaging words
As I and others finally get to be heard

By those who’ll see us for what we are
In truth and will follow us near and far,
Hearing what we have to say to them all,
And they’ll help us soar ‘til when we’re meant to fall.

It might not be tomorrow or even next year,
But it’ll happen soon. Just you wait, dear,
And you’ll see with your own eyes what I am
Deep down inside. Take that to heart, ma’am.


Author Pages: Smashwords.com



Poem of the Week: A Writer’s Stress

A Writer’s Stress
October 28, 2015

So many projects, yet so little time,
Trying to find out which are worth a damn.
Driving me insane, this hobby of mine,
And it’s my stress that’s got me where I am.
Oh, how I miss when schedules ruled my day
And gave me regulation and purpose!
At least then, I could get stuff underway,
Working on the things I knew weren’t a bust.
Those days are gone, though, and might not come back
Soon or even ever, for all I know.
Now here I sit with a panic attack
To labor through as I shrug off my woe.
Writing can be fun, but also a pain,
Especially when there’s nothing to gain.


Author Pages: Smashwords.com



Bonus Poem of the Week: Bring Back Yesterday’s Values

Bring Back Yesterday’s Values
October 19, 2015

When our icons can’t even save us
From the tackiness that plagues us
And instead give in
To the very sins
That for long have enslaved us,

When balance ‘tween right and wrong
Has evaded us for so long
And both have caused harm
In various swarms
Both in act and in song,

When the masses pine for the days
When we all followed simpler ways,
Things are clearly a mess,
Which cannot be stressed
Enough, for it’s the thing to say,

And something needs to be done
To send trouble on the run
And at last put to sleep
This problem so deep
That’s affected everyone,

And just between you and me,
I doubt that the past is the key
In and of itself,
So leave that on its shelf,
Lest you believe in this theory:

Take the morals and values we knew
Way back when ‘fore things made us blue
And apply them today
To all we see and say
And especially to all we do.

Let’s try being wholesome again
Like we tried to be way back when
And steer clear of the smut
That’s put us in a rut
And stick to a standard again.

Let’s all show some courtesy,
Common sense, and decency
If we hope to combat
Everything that’s crap
In modern society.

Let’s avoid filth like the disease
It is and do as we please
To promote what we feel
Ought to be real
And spread our message sea to sea

And even abroad, if we can
For the sake of each woman and man
Who, too, suffers from
Exposure to the scum
That’s corrupted the soul of each land.

After all, if we want change—
If we want things to be rearranged—
It’s no less than a must
For things to start with us.
‘Tis the action that shouldn’t be strange,

For if we want to set things right,
It’s our job to shine that light,
For whom else can we trust
When change becomes a must
And only we can lead the fight?

Come on, then! Let’s get to work, gang,
And show that we all give a dang!
Let’s all send today’s ills
To drown in the swill
They’ve made from our nostalgic pangs

And forge a new global tradition
Of happiness brought to fruition
Thanks to values past
Resurrected to last
For all times. Such should be our mission.


Author Pages: Smashwords.com