July 28, 2017
Puzzling, pondering, stalling.
I’ve got jack squat.
Irritating, frustrating, embarrassing…
Visions of a Working Class Writer
July 16, 2017
Born and raised on pizza, burgers and fries,
And other simple stuff that my folks could buy
As they slaved away to keep a roof over my head
And clothes on my back as well as our daily bread.
We never had cable programming on our TV.
Heck, we couldn’t even tune in to Fox to see
The kind of shows they had on any given night—
Just roaring, flickering noise set to screens of black and white.
Any luxury we had, we clung onto like it was gold,
For only Heaven knew the kind of future we’d behold,
Had any of us progressed beyond our working class ways,
And even now, I’m dreaming of what I hope are better days—
Days where I no longer have to break my back or my feet
Hauling heavy boxes while traversing winding streets,
Where I no longer sweat through my clothes within the first hour
And the first thing I do when I get home is take a shower,
Days where my head doesn’t throbs to where I must take a nap
To sleep away my pain like a cat in its owner’s lap,
Where going on adventures actually means something
And being paid for my creativity at last becomes a thing.
Alas, I haven’t hit that point, though I can already see
The kind of lowlifes with which I’d have to cope that await me:
Purists who sneer at that which doesn’t flow a certain way,
Money grubbers who just care ‘bout how much one’s work will pay,
Egotists who scold those who don’t “get” things right away,
Artsy farts who praise style over substance any day,
Snarky twerps who mock others’ works behind their backs,
Soulless attention gluttons and other mindless hacks,
Mindless, trend-following drones who don’t know their history
And fail to remember how things once upon a time used to be.
Such and more are the scumbags who await those who, like me,
Dare to dream big and make it, and yet I still aim to be
One of the greatest in my field, my name forever ringing
Throughout history for my contributions, the masses forever singing,
And I know I can’t stop until that dream at last becomes real,
No matter whom I cross paths with. Such is my present deal.
There is another thing, though, that I aim to keep in mind:
The humble, happy boy I once was shan’t be left behind,
For no matter how big I get, I’ll remember always
Exactly whom I used to be prior to seeing brighter days,
The upbringing I had, and the things I’ve lived without,
And no matter how much longer it takes, I shan’t pout
On the day my dream comes true, for should I spit in the face
Of success when it falls upon me, I’ll be put back in my place.
Such is a fate I can’t afford to face anymore.
It’s now or never with me to see just what’s in store
For me in my journey to finally realize my dream.
Who knows? Even with the fools, things might be better than they seem.
A Rather Blunt Blitz Poem about Intergender Violence
July 14, 2017
Sick of the double standard
Sick of the hypocrisy
Hypocrisy regarding gender
Hypocrisy regarding violence
Violence against women
Violence against men
Men hitting each other
Men hitting women
Women hitting men
Women hitting each other
Other people may disagree
Other people too blind to see
See the big picture
See what’s wrong
Wrong with our way of thinking
Wrong with people hitting people
People need to wake up
People need to realize
Realize what they’re promoting
Realize what they’re saying
Saying it’s a matter of size
Saying it’s a matter of gender status
Status in American
Taboo for a number of reasons
Taboo we’ll never shake
Shake after so many decades
Shake after so many generations
Generations defending the notion blindly
Generations never stopping to think
Think in simpler terms
Think along a different line
Line of logic
Line of reality
Reality beyond one side of the story
Reality concerning violence
Violence against anyone
Violence is wrong
Wrong outside of self-defense
Wrong outside of a sanctioned fight
Fight for truth
Fight for equality
Equality between both genders
Equality we’ve long needed
Needed to grow
Needed to move on up
July 4, 2017
Talk, talk, talk—that’s what you like to do,
But little did you realize, friend,
That the more you open your mouth, the further in your foot
Goes in to choke you out in the end.
You sit there on your ass, flaunting your accomplishments,
Claiming superiority where you please,
Proudly sporting your fauxhawk, neckbeard, and thick-rimmed specs
As you ridicule others’ childhood memories.
“Oh, wow! What a lazy premise! What a shameless rip-off!
What cheesy music and animation!
I can’t believe folks actually watched this back in the day.”
Such is what you spew across the nation.
“Good grief! What a hokey scene! What a way to throw logic
Out the window just to tell a story.”
Hey, you’re the one who bothered digging up trash
From the past to show the world in all its glory.
Honestly, do you think we don’t know trash when we see it
With our own eyes and hear with our own ears,
Especially when it’s been out long enough for ourselves
To witness with embarrassment and fear?
Do you really think we need some snarky, immature know-it-all
Showing and telling what we can find out
Ourselves without any guidance? Please! Stop with the insults
‘Cause that’s what you seem to be all about,
So spend your free time doing something far more constructive
And meaningful in the long run of it all
Like warning us of the crap that’s been flooding the mainstream
Today before society further falls
Into ruin just as you claim it had back in the day
With the ages-old dreck you bash presently.
Seriously, you think the past sucked? Well, today’s not much better.
Just look around you, and you’ll see.
Once you do, I hope you at last come to see the light
And put your supposed knowledge to the test
To purge the world of ignorance—hopefully forever—
And put the media’s faults to rest.
Take the hint, then, cocky boy, and clean up your act.
Stop ragging on that which has long past
And do all you can to help us all move forward
And craft memories meant to last.
Happy Birthday, America!
July 2, 2017
Gathering, grilling, picnicking
Then come the fireworks
Sparkling, exploding, shining
American flag photograph courtesy of Techavy.com. The attatched poem, however, is the author’s own.
June 23, 2017
Fans of no one else
Fans of only themselves
Themselves they care about
Themselves topics of interest
Interest in others shown
Interest in others feigned
Effort in their own content
Effort in their own design
Design all identical
Design so lazy
Lazy and sparse
Lazy and nonexistent
Care for their audience
Care for their content
Content with no context
Content that’s all show, no tell
Tell no recipes
Tell no stories
Stories of the subject
Stories behind the image
Image with no purpose
Image with no meaning
Meaning for existence
Meaning beyond what it is
Is this what the world has come to?
Is this what people want to see
See for years to come
See rather than well-written articles
Articles with actual thought and effort
Articles that entertain and educate
Educate about the world
Educate about life
Life outside of the Internet
Life lessons we all must learn
Learn to identify these posers
Learn to see through their ruse
Ruse of friendship
Ruse of support
Support those who work hard
Support those who care
Care about you
Care about the things that matter