Poem of the Week: No Love for the Arrogant

No Love for the Arrogant
May 19, 2017

I’ve no love for the arrogant, their heads swollen with pride,
Always looking down on others whose efforts they chide,
Always quick with insults, never seeking fault at all
Within their own deeds and behavior, for their own minds are too small
To let them see their own imperfections they, too, harbor deep
Inside the shrunken black rocks they call hearts, which sleep
Inside their chests and only beat for their hosts and them alone,
Never realizing that, like everyone else, they’re flesh and bone
And are capable of making mistakes—often knowingly—
But flippantly dismissing just how careless they can be
As they carry on hurting others’ feelings without remorse
Claiming to be superior and getting up on a high horse
To show the “peasants” how they’re “screwing up” what they do,
Talking to them like children as they explain things through and through
‘Cause the other people are as dumb as chicks freshly hatched in the nest
And need to be treated as such ‘cause the former know best.
Such is how the arrogant think, leastways, not realizing
That their own minds are every bit as in need of supersizing—
If not, in fact, even more so in order for them to see
That they’re really no better than anyone from you to me,
For it’s not ust their way or the highway that makes the world turn.
“Different strokes for different folks” is a saying these clowns should learn,
As one way of living, working, and playing doesn’t fit everyone,
And forcing their way of thinking and doing on all walking ‘neath the sun
Isn’t the way to make friends or even simply get along,
Especially in an era where cooperation must be strong
Between one another if we hope to move society forth,
And we’ve already been suffering from bickering of all sorts.
Besides, is the “one way” with which we’re familiar really working
In this world overrun with “shots fired,” “Fifty Shades,” and “twerking,”
Or do we need to get back something we’ve lost long ago—
Something that made us great once and that we’ve been missing so?
Maybe it’s time we stepped back and analyzed the situation
That’s been spreading like a plague between us all from nation to nation
And stop having such egos when it comes to each little thing.
Otherwise, we’ll be stuck in the cycle and keep feeling the sting
Of a million barbs and the million scars they’ve given us over the years,
And I’m sorry, but that crap’s gotta stop, and it’s gotta stop now and here,
So grow up and get over yourselves, egomaniacs!
Your behavior’s doing nobody a favor, and it’s time it got axed.
This world’s long needed to move forth. This world’s long needed to heal,
So put away your arrogance and learn for once to feel
For your fellow man and woman and lend him and her a hand
If we’re ever going to change things in this befouled, corrupted land.

*****

Author Pages: Smashwords.com
                         Amazon.com
                         Amazon.co.uk

Poem of the Week: Another Hasty Rant against Remakes, Reboots, and Other Forms of Laziness in the Media

Another Hasty Rant against Remakes, Reboots, and Other Forms of Laziness in the Media
May 13, 2017

We all miss the days
When things were simpler and more
Fun and the people
In power didn’t
Resort to desperation
To keep us happy.
We all miss the days
When originality
Was much easier
To come by simply
Because people gave a crap
And honestly tried
To give us something
New, exciting, and fresh and
Not feed us rehashed
Gruel that used to
Be the flavor of the day
Once upon a time.
We all miss the days
When the present was present
And the past was built
Upon with rev’rence
And dignity rather than
Pieced back together
With bits and pieces
As Dr. Frankenstein had
With his monster and
Zapped back to life with
Heaven’s silvery lightning,
Only for the beast
To run rampant ‘cross
The land and raze whatever
Foundation we’ve laid
To build a future
Upon for generations
Yet to come. For shame!
We all miss those days,
But what about tomorrow’s
Generation? What
Will they have to say
When they’re our age? What will they
Reminisce about?
The same recycled
Schlock that we once had when we
Were young, albeit with
A fresh coat of paint?
Sorry, but it takes more than
My old man’s old toys,
Big bro’s hand-me-downs,
Or other such mementos
To make me happy.
Sometimes I just want
Something I can call truly call
My own through and through
In order to feel
Like I have something worthwhile,
And you know what else?
I’m willing to bet
That today’s young people would
Appreciate it
If we would give them
Something that they could fully
Invest themselves in
Just like those who’d come
Before us once did for us
Back when we were young—
Something to remind
Them of when they were the young
Ones enjoying the
Fruits of the labors
Of those who had the power
And dared to dream big.
Alas, what have we
Done to ensure such a thing
Besides sit back oh
So finely by and
Watch the present lose itself
While hastening the
Perversion of the
Past by those who still have no
Clue as to what it
Was all about or
Once stood for? What is it that
We’re doing right now
Other than bringing
Back that which we’d already
Had, refurbishing
It half-heartedly,
And passing the stuff off as
Something more than what
We already know
It is, thus keeping the state
Of things stagnant and
Never moving forth,
Never evolving, never
Progressing? Such waste!
Well, guess what: It’s time
To cut the nonsense and move
Forward with the next
Narrative step ‘fore
Future generations are
Left with no stories
To share ‘mongst themselves
Or with generations next.
We’ve wasted far too
Much time as things stand
Already, so why not screw
Our heels in now and
Make up for the years
Upon years we’ve already
Lost and give back to
The world just as our
Predecessors have before
We’ve no time at all?
Who’s to say we can’t
Learn from the past and concoct
New tales for others
To tell each other
Down the line for years to come
‘Long life’s rocky road?
Have we even tried
This whole entire time we’ve
Allowed things to fall
Into disrepair?
If we haven’t, shame on us!
All the more reason
For us to act now
And learn from our mistakes ‘fore
Things further collapse
Upon themselves and
Leave this world an even more
Mind-numbing place in
Which to try to live.
Enough talk, then! We must act
Now and put an end
To recycling the
Past with blatant nonchalance
Before it consumes
S all more than it
Already has. Think wisely,
Friends, and be sharp, lest
You wish to fall for
Behind this speeding freight train
Into the future,
For once we start, there
Shall be no stopping us, folks.
All ‘board! Future ho!

*****

Author Pages: Smashwords.com
                         Amazon.com
                         Amazon.co.uk

Poem of the Week: The Flighty Ones

The Flighty Ones
May 6, 2017

Swiftly, swiftly to you they fly
To feed off that which you give
‘Til you’ve got no more,
Then off you soar
To the next leaky sieve.

‘Tis an empty, shallow life they live,
Gliding from shore to shore,
Feeding off crumbs
From city to slum
‘Til there simply is no more,

Thinking there’s greater stuff in store
Than what you’ve given them, chum.
Don’t ask me why
That is, for I
Am not as gluttinous or dumb,

But forget those selfish, impatient bums!
They mean naught to you or I.
Let ‘em live how they live.
You’ve still plenty to give
Those who’ll give you an honest try.

*****

Author Pages: Smashwords.com
                         Amazon.com
                         Amazon.co.uk

Poem of the Week: Let Grit See You Through

Let Grit See You Through
April 25, 2017

Letting go of the past can be quite tough
When the memories won’t leave you alone,
For the road of life oftentimes is rough
With events that cut you straight to the bone—
People who’ve hurt you for no fair reason,
Happenings you’ve tried to leave behind you…
Yet no matter the day, year, or season,
It comes back to haunt you out of the blue,
Making you wish you could go back in time
To fix whatever wrong you may have done.
Alas, that’s not how time works, friend of mine,
For the direction it goes is but one.
Thus, there’s only one thing that you can do:
Screw your heels in and let grit see you through.

*****

Author Pages: Smashwords.com
                         Amazon.com
                         Amazon.co.uk

Hoedown of the Week: A Whose Line Hoedown on Whose Line Hoedowns

Hey, readers!

For those of you who are fans of Whose Line Is It Anyway?, chances are that you probably already know of its return to CW television within four weeks from today (May 29, 2017). On that note, I think I’d like to take this moment to try my hand at another Hoedown of the Week in commemoration of the event. I can promise you, too, that I’ve improved since last time when it comes to writing these things.

Also, be sure that to leave a reply to suggest what topic you’d like me to cover next time if you’re interested in seeing more hoedowns in the future. Who knows? Maybe I’ll have enough material to make this segment last all month up to Whose Line‘s US Season 13 premiere. It all depends, though, upon your feedback.

As for Whose Line itself, good luck with this season. I sure know that I’m looking forward to you shaking things up and keeping your format loose and fresh in the name of quality improvisational comedy.

At any rate, folks, enjoy!

*****

Hoedown of the Week: A Whose Line Hoedown on Whose Line Hoedowns
April 30, 2017

Well, I’m no fan of hoedowns. I hate their cheesy beat,
Even though it makes me stand up and shuffle my feet
‘Cause when we’re done performing, I can’t get it out of my head.
In fact, the tune haunts me so much, it makes me wish I was dead.

I don’t know why the others hate hoedowns with such a passion.
When I’m done cutting my verse, I feel a sense of satisfaction.
Thus, when it comes to playing this game, I’m not at all annoyed.
In fact, it’s just one more reason to keep Laura Hall employed.

I! Hate! Hoedowns! I refuse to sing ‘em by choice.
I’ll be damned if I ever lend them my golden voice,
Especially when I hear a bald joke (Yeah, like I don’t know…),
Though if I dare hear one more bald joke, I’m really gonna go.

Well, hello, everybody. My name is Ryan Stiles.
I’ve secretly loved hoedowns for quite a long while.
I like to sing ‘em like Michael Bolton or the Brothers Gibb,
And when I’m done, Drew tucks me into my special little crib.

*****

Thanks for reading, everyone, and as always, be sure to check out my author pages at Smashwords.com, Amazon.com, and Amazon.co.uk. Your support means a lot to me, no matter what form it comes in. Likewise, here’s hoping to a great fifth season of Whose Line Is It Anyway? on the CW and to a great remainder of 2017 as a whole!

Regards,
Dustin M. Weber

*****

PS: Credit for the pic used above goes to TheCWWhoseLine.Tumblr.com. The poem itself, however, is the author’s own.