Bonus Poem of the Week: Dream of Tomorrow

Dream of Tomorrow
September 28, 2015

We can’t always live in the past
Where pain and misery last,
For the pain was then,
Meaning way back when,
And has thoroughly amassed

Into an adamantine lump—
An indestructible clump
Of misery and lies,
Feces and flies,
That stands tall, never to be dumped,

Never heeding to push or tug,
Never to be swept ‘neath a rug,
Standing proud and tall
Against it all
And impossible to squash like a bug.

I thus find it needless to say
That the crap just won’t go away.
There’s just one thing you,
Therefore, can do
To help the angst go away:

Turn your eyes to the road ahead
And observe all that isn’t dead
And at least try to see
All that can be,
Should folks like you just use your heads.

The future needs not be so dim,
For not all needs to be grim.
The potential exists
For scrap to be fixed
And a world worth living in

To at long last emerge from the ash,
Dust, and rubble we know as the past—
A world where the good
Thrive in each neighborhood
And strive to make it all last

For everyone far and near
With bells ringing loud and clear
To welcome peace
And good fortune for each
Person with heart and ears to hear—

A place where all children can learn
And grow and not be spurned
‘Cause they’re not like the rest
And can become the best
They can be so that when their turn

Comes for them to take on the world,
An even brighter age can unfurl
And continue to grow
‘Til only Heaven knows.
Don’t you think such a dream’s worth a whirl?

Well, in order for it to take place
Requires courage in the face
Of that which once was,
So straighten up, cuz,
For the future now needs to take place.

History may have hurt you so
And filled you with grief and woe,
But you can’t let it hold
You back in the cold,
And it’s up to you to prove it so.

Now’s the time to shake off those chains
And don’t let them dare detain
You from lending a hand
To each woman and man
Who, too, want to shake off the pain.

Believe me. You’re no alone,
And you needn’t do it on your own.
Just join the crusade
For the dream to be made
A reality, and in turn, you’ll own

Once again a piece of your soul
That will help you endure the toll
That’s happened to you
And all that you’ve been through,
So come on! Step out of your hole

And let’s all move on from the pain
From which none of us can gain
Anything of value.
There’s just too much to do,
Lest we want all hope flushed down the drain.


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Poem of the Week: Senseless and Stupid

Senseless and Stupid
September 27, 2015

Bullying is senseless.
Bullying is stupid—
Stupid entertainment;
Stupid, simple minds;
Minds too weak,
Minds too simple,
Simple to know compassion,
Simple to know respect—
Respect for those not like them,
Respect for those who are different,
Different physically,
Different mentally,
Mentally warped,
Mentally scarred—
Scarred by brutal beatings,
Scarred by hateful words,
Words unfounded,
Words unprovoked,
Unprovoked insults,
Unprovoked ridicule—
Ridicule that haunts,
Ridicule that festers,
Festers for years,
Festers even into adulthood—
Adulthood compromised at best;
Adulthood, at worst, ruined;
Ruined by others’ immaturity,
Ruined by others’ insecurities,
Insecurities in life,
Insecurities with themselves—
Themselves weak,
Themselves scared.
Scared of whom?
Scared of what?
What mishandled fear!
What misappropriated insecurities—
Insecurities not overcome,
Insecurities passed on,
On to predictable prey,
On to “weaker” prey—
Prey of stronger moral fiber,
Prey undeserving,
Undeserving of the derision,
Undeserving of the cruelty!
Cruelty out of boredom,
Cruelty out of weakness,
Weakness so dirty,
Weakness of the soul.


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Poem of the Week: Barking Fits

Barking DogBarking Fits
September 22, 2015

Woof, woof, bay, and a bow-wow-wow!
Gee, that noise ticks me off, and how!
Every day and night at the slightest sound,
Even when there’s no one or nothing else around.

It pierces my conscious when I’m deep in thought,
And before I know it, my efforts are for naught.
Whatever could it be to send you into a tizzy
And give me a headache strong enough to make me dizzy?

Could it be a prowler breaking into our house?
Could it be a household pest like a mouse?
Could it be the baby stirring in her crib
Or just me cracking open a can of Mr. Pibb?

Could it be a car door slamming that’s got you tense?
Could it be the girls next door running the fence?
Could it be a rabbit darting across our yard?
Come now. Be honest. This question’s not hard.

Could it be a cyclist racing down the street
Or a trespasser on our walk shuffling her feet?
Could it just be your fancy getting the better of you
To the point where you turn this place into a zoo?

Well, whatever it may be, must you be so loud?
Really, is it your own voice of which you’re proud?
‘Cause it’s really nothing special with the volume maxed out,
Hence why when you hear your name, it’s often in a shout.

What’s worse is how I hear it constantly.
Dang you, foul beast! Whenever will you let me be?
You know how much it bugs me putting you in your place,
‘Specially since I hate getting in a fellow human’s face.

Ah, but who’m I kidding? I love you all the same,
Even with your barking often driving me insane,
And I’ll keep taking care of you any way I can.
Just cool it, though, with your barking fits from now on, man!


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Image used in this post (c) 2015 The remainder of the content within this post however, is my own.

Poem of the Week: The Cookie Poem

The Cookie Poem
September 15, 2015

One cookie, two cookie, three cookie, four—
Glad I made a double batch, ‘cause the people want more.
Five cookie, six cookie, seven cookie, eight—
Another batch done to put on this plate.
Nine cookie, ten cookie, eleven cookie, twelve—
Glad the kitchen’s a place into which I like to delve.
Thirteen cookie, fourteen cookie, fifteen cookie, more—
That’s enough for right now. Let’s step out the door.

Wow! It seems these cookies are a hit.
I don’t see a single soul throwing a fit.
Instead, I see my loved ones munching away
And just a dozen cookies left to see the light of day.
See my family members there? Crunch, crunch, crunch.
My friends in the other corner—munch, munch, munch.
Good thing I followed that recipe to a T.
Too bad there won’t be any cookie left for me.

Then again, who am I kidding? I can always bake
Another batch or two for myself in the wake
Of my friends and family devouring this batch,
And once I do, these cookies might even meet their match,
And then it’s one, two cookie, three cookie, four—
More cookies for me to enjoy for a week or more,
So long as I’ve got all the ingredients in store.
One cookie, two cookie, three cookie, four.


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Bonus Poem of the Week: Old Dog

Old Dog
September 10, 2015

Old dog, old dog, living in the sticks,
Have you learned at all any new tricks?
Can you teach these bigshots making all the bucks
To come up with something new that doesn’t suck?

Old dog, old dog, can you keep up
With these ever-changing times and all the new pups
Who’ve grown tired of the old ways and are ready for
A new perspective to come knocking on their door?

Old dog, old dog, have you the tools
To keep up with the Joneses and all these new rules
By which we all now live, be they for right or wrong?
Can you change your tone to sing a new song?

Old dog, old dog, do you miss the days
When the masses lived by simpler, sweeter ways,
Or have you grown tired of such saccharine tastes?
Have we moved on for the better? Was it all a waste?

Old dog, old dog, where will you be
In the next decade or two? Will you be with me,
Reaping all we’ve sown in the present as a race,
Or will you spurn it all and call it a disgrace?

Old dog, old dog, such is the beast,
Never staying new for long—not in the least.
Survival of the fiercest—that’s the way to play
If one hopes to make it for even one more day.

Old dog, old dog, now the time has come.
Will you stay here on the porch, or would you rather run
Free like the breeze, moving you ‘round as you please,
Enduring whatever wear and tear might target your knees?

Either way, old dog, please let me know
Which of these two ways you intend to go.
That way, I can know whether I’ll see you again
Of if my memories of you will be of “way back when.”


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Poem of the Week: Had It Up to Here

Had It Up to Here
September 3, 2015

I’ve had it up to here with violence.
I’ve had it up to here with ignorance—
Ignorance bred from intolerance
In an era where we could be moving forward,
If we ourselves weren’t so backwards.

For too long, we’ve been moving backwards
With the way we’ve been allowing violence
To thrive as society elsewhere moves forward
And at such a rate that claiming ignorance
Is naught but a show of logical intolerance.

So many folks these days ripe with intolerance,
Be they mentally crippled or just socially backwards.
So high is our collective ignorance
In not perceiving and preventing violence.
So hard it is for us all to truly move forward.

There’s got to be some way to help society move forward.
Let’s at least first nullify our collective ignorance
And talk things out rather than resort to violence
And help the weak of mind from slipping backwards
Before they succumb to a state of worldly ignorance.

After all, our days of claiming ignorance
Are over. Now is time to move forward,
For if we take even one tiny step backwards,
We’ll only return to our days of hostile ignorance,
And we’ll never overcome all this current violence.

End to violence! End to ignorance! End to intolerance!
Either we now move forward, or we’ll forever be backwards.


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Poem of the Week: Until Tomorrow Has Come

Until Tomorrow Has Come
August 18, 2015

Growing up’s a kick in the pants, for with growing up comes change,
And each year we grow older, the world starts to rearrange.
The things we used to know and love vanish into thin air,
Leaving us with other things, most of which about we don’t care,
And when we try to give a lick, nostalgia gets in the way,
And we’re left sitting and pouting, letting time further slip away.
Worse yet is how the people we knew and loved back then
Grow old and retire from whence we knew them way back when,
And with no one we trust to lean on, we’re more lost than before,
Wondering how we could have let time slide on out the door.
Hopefully by then, we’ve got our acts together and can move on,
But even so, our hope for better days proves oh so strong,
And with the future forever uncertain, all we know is the past
And how we wish such a time, even at its worst, would last,
For the world we knew back then was so much friendlier and cleaner
While the world we know now is a mess and oh so much meaner.
Then again, we were kids then, ignorant to the ills
That plagued the world back in our day and festered it with swill,
And if we were grown up then, who are we to say
That we wouldn’t have been begging then for the past to return in some way?
Who are we to suggest that adulthood wouldn’t hit hard and fast
And make us wish we were younger and living once more in the past?
Let’s face it: yesterday’s familiar to us, which is why
We want it to come back so much, even though you and I
Know all too well that time only moves forward, never back,
And until time travel’s a thing, that’s just how things are, Jack.
Yes, that makes the future even more foreboding, friend—
Especially when you’re clinging to days lost unto the end,
Bust fear not, for not everything’s been reduced to ash,
And if you make the effort to dig for treasure through the trash,
You’ll find something worth holding onto—maybe as good as that
From the good old days in the same vein or even better at that.
Such is the nature of each year; there’s good to come with the bad.
Sometimes it’s more of the latter than the former, which is sad,
But even if that’s the rule, that’s still no reason to give up.
Just keep on searching for what you seek, and you just might have luck
In getting what you’ve been looking for since even you can’t say when,
And soon enough, the future won’t look so terrible, friend.
Tomorrow’s thus not the problem; it’s what it can become,
So fear not what tomorrow can bring until tomorrow has come.


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