About dmw1011

I'm a former English teacher and long-time aspiring author from northeastern Illinois who FINALLY jumped ship with the whole e-book publishing scene in March 2012. Fiction is my specialty (although I admittedly tend to flex my poetic muscles a lot on this website), and my interests are diverse. I aim not only to entertain my readers, but also to inspire them through my writing. Feel free to check my work on Smashwords.com, Amazon.com, and Amazon.co.uk to check my current work out for yourselves!

Poem of the Week: Know-it-Alls

Know-it-Alls
September 15, 2017

Experts in their own minds in one thing or another,
Eyes cast down, their noses in the air,
Criticizing all us “philistines” in this and that way, brother,
All with a sense of self-important flair.

Their needle-nosed arrogance so deeply gets under our skin
That it creeps and crawls across our musculature
Until we feel the need to somehow punish them for their sins,
Even if doing so makes us look immature.

After all, what do these jerks know in the grand scheme of things?
On what grounds do they have the right to act
Like everyone should kiss their feet and worship the words they sing?
To Hell with these egomaniacal brats!

They only know so much about topics X, Y, and Z
With the Internet being their chief info source.
Sometimes, they even cling on to each other desperately
‘Cause only one can stand another, of course,

And when one sits on another’s lap, you can truly tell
Just how insecure and dumb the bugger is
And how superior he or she needs to feel at all well
While helping the other feel like an utter whiz.

It’s a lot like bullying in a sense with one hiding behind another,
And when it’s done on the ‘Net, it’s even worse,
For hiding behind a screen only proves one’s cowardice, brother,
And hiding ‘hind others as well further proves one’s curse

Of forever having no backbone on top of being a flake—
Neither of which anyone of sense aims to be,
Especially in a day and age when folks tend to hate what’s fake
And the inauthentic is plain to hear and see.

Take the hint, then, know-it-alls of the world. We’re on to you,
And we’re not going to take your crap anymore.
Go suck your airs of superiority back up your chutes of poo
And take your condescension with you back out the door.

Either gain some ground on which to base the knowledge you claim to own
Or shut your mouths and go away for good.
We’re done with your egos and how they’ve cut our spirits to the bone
And no longer want you in our neighborhood.

*****

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

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Poem of the Week: Nostalgia

Nostalgia
September 10, 2017

Nostalgia
Sweet poison
Remembering, reminiscing, reveling
Yesterday wasn’t always golden
Misleading, misinforming, misdirecting
Everlasting paradox
Stagnance

*****

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

Poem of the Week: Autumn’s Here!

Autumn’s Here!
September 9, 2017

Sound the bells, my friend.
Summer’s come to an end.
Autumn’s here,
And time is near
To see what’s ‘round the bend.

A new year of school’s begun
For learners both old and young.
So much they’ve to learn.
Hopefully, they shan’t burn
Out ‘fore the school year’s done.

A new season’s begun for TV
With so many programs to see
With brand new seasons
For this or that reason
As well as shows yet to be.

So many new sights to see, too,
At festivals and markets near you
That not summer nor spring
Could hope to bring,
But when Autumn falls…sacrebleu!

Pumpkins, gourds, squashes…oh, my!
So many treats for the eye
In addition to leaves
Drifting down as they please,
Lest the wind blows them ‘cross the sky.

Let’s not forget, either, the food
To put our taste buds in the mood:
Apples, cinnamon, spice,
Carmel corn—it’s all nice,
For as I eat it, how can I brood?

Thing is, too, in a matter of weeks,
The one day meant for spirits and freaks
And monsters of all kinds
Is bound to unwind
As Halloween time once more peeks

‘Round the bend to greet us with a “Boo!”
And sends us searching for new
Costumes to wear
And treats to bear
To make youngsters go “Ah!” and “Ooh!”

A month or so later, Thanksgiving:
A true celebration of living—
Parades, football, feasts,
And not to say the least,
Family there to share in the giving.

So many are autumn’s joys
For all men, women, girls, and boys,
Should they but slow down
And travel ‘round town
To drink them all in and enjoy.

Alas, though, so wrapped up are most
Folks who claim to not boast
Any time to partake
In these things in the wake
Of the season ‘fore it becomes a ghost.

It really is a shame,
For according to the season’s game,
Autumn comes once a year
For but three months, dear,
‘Fore it fades away again. How lame!

Well, I sure know for a fact
That when autumn comes, I don’t slack
In taking in its gifts
In hopes that they lift
Me out of my mood when it’s black,

For if annual it must be,
Then why cheat myself of such beauty?
I could never forgive
Myself, should I live
To deny such a gift to me,

Which is why each year during this time,
I pause to take in the sublime
And escape from my hive
And thank God I’m alive,
Even if it’s but for a short time.

Such is how I feel when autumn comes
‘Til my eyes, ears, and tongue go numb.
It’s an annual thing,
So let the good times ring
‘Til the season’s at long last done.

P.S.: The pic used above comes courtesy of CanadianMusicHallofFame.ca. The attached poem, however, is the author’s own.

*****

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

Poem of the Week: Purity and Innocence

Purity and Innocence
August 29, 2017

One minute you’re as giddy as any child can be,
Enjoying life as you wonder ‘bout what kind of future you’d see.
Next minute, you’re all grown up in a dead-end state of mind,
Looking back and shaking your head at the childhood you’d left behind.

“Where did it all go?” you ask. “What happened to those days?
What happened to that world I once knew and its simpler, gentler ways?”
All the while, the bills keep piling up, as do the demands
Of maintaining a home, life, and family as time slips through your hands

At an ever-increasing pace that never seems to let up,
Which brings you to sigh in disgust , wondering when enough’s enough
And if you’ll ever find the balance you’ve for long so desired
Before your soul floats up to Heaven’s gates or burns in Hell’s fires.

Such is what we all cope with in one way or another,
Only to be reminded that yesterday wasn’t always golden, brother
Or sister, and to have some jackass remind us of all the crap
That made the “good ol’ days” not so great to where we just want to nap

Away the headache we’ve gotten so as to better deal with today,
Asking ourselves how the present could be better in anyway,
For too deep are we in our mindsets of doom and gloom to see
Just how beautiful the present from another perspective can be.

Try looking for the good in things for once on your radio or TV
And stick around for your escape from the harsh reality.
Head to your local bookstore and look for a new book to read—
Preferably one not meant to fuel an overhyped hack author’s greed.

Head to your local park and take a walk on a nature trail.
Trek to your local farmer’s market and see what might be for sale.
Anywhere where simple, wholesome stuff is should be place enough
To prove that not all’s been corrupted by the present’s tacky stuff.

Step away from your iPhones and your tablets for a sec
To take in the scenery around you and realize that, “Heck!
There is something ‘bout this world for which I can hold some wonder.
I needn’t always concern myself with some public figure’s blunder

Or any of the ills around me that keep happening day after day.
Yes, they exist, but need I fixate solely on them? No way!
Not when simplicity and innocence still exist in this stretch of the world.”
Then, once you come to that realization, a new perspective unfurls,

And you come to understand that no matter how ugly things get,
The world still has some purity—no matter how little—yet
To serve as an escape for when things get a little too much,
Be it too crass, hostile, superficial, demanding, and such.

Such is a blessing, for as we know, sadly, yesterday’s gone,
And while it surely hurts to know that, we all must say so long
To what we once knew, let’s not forget to honor what we’ve got
Before the day comes when we leave this earth to the computers and robots.

The “good ol’ days” may be gone, yet not forgotten, but that doesn’t mean
We can’t make the most from what we have left in the face of the obscene,
So do what you can to take a break from that which you’ve come to revile
And stop to smell the roses, so to speak, every once in a while.

*****

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

Poem of the Week: Fitting In

Fitting In
August 21, 2017

Sometimes you don’t fit in, no matter how hard you try.
You think you have what it takes, which explains you not knowing why
You can’t get along with others, whose league you think you’re in,
But always remember that being different isn’t a mortal sin.

As a matter of fact, some people, no matter how good they may seem,
Are far bigger creeps than you realize, thus making it a pipe dream
For you to ever fit in with them, but then, you’re better off,
For if you knew what kind of people you’d be dealing with, you’d scoff.

People can be such bastards, all slathered in their own stink
That when it comes to others, they never bother to think,
But instead act all rude and patronizing, treating even “friends” like scum
On account of being “lower” than they are when they’re the ones being dumb.

Folks’ morals and values can be warped far more than you realize,
And should you discover that firsthand, how ugly they’d be in your eyes.
Too many folks sit on their fat asses expecting success to come
On a platinum platter, not caring that the best doesn’t come to lazy bums.

Some people don’t take things seriously and treat too much like a joke
‘Til the other shoe drops and things for them at last go up in smoke.
Some people have nasty tempters and will chew you up in a beat,
Should you cross them one way or another at work or out in the street.

Some folks will act one way one minute, only to turn around
And act completely different the next moment they’ve been found,
Not giving a damn how their treachery hurts any in their wake,
Especially if they thrive somehow off being so bloody fake.

Some even only make friends with those whom they can manipulate
And make them do something they wouldn’t do normally, yet come to hate
In the end one way or another while the creeps themselves
Sit finely by and laugh at their expense like nothing else.

So many are the scumbags out there, and still so many try
To fit in with them whilst not stopping themselves to ask why
They’re so desperate for friendship when what matters in the end
Is staying true to oneself, for upon one’s self one can depend,

And really, is it worth it turning your back on the lessons you’ve learned
Throughout your life for the sake of fake friends who’d rather see you burn
And become that which you’re not, only to make them feel big?
Honestly, why would anyone do that to themselves for such pigs?

Trust me. Being a decent human being needs not fitting in,
Lest you’re talking ‘bout your special niche. Otherwise, it’s no sin
To be different from others, especially those who aren’t worth your time,
So keep your chin up and stay true to yourself, pupil of mine.

*****

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

Poem of the Week: No Room for Bigotry

No Room for Bigotry
August 17, 2017

No room for bigotry.
No room for hatred—
Hatred from ages ago,
Hatred towards strangers,
Strangers of a different color,
Strangers of a different mold,
Mold of experience,
Mold of life,
Life that you’ve never known,
Life that you don’t understand.
Understand for others’ sake.
Understand for your own sake—
Sake of growing,
Sake of becoming,
Becoming a stronger person,
Becoming what this world needs—
Needs during these troubled times,
Needs in the midst of this turmoil,
Turmoil that hasn’t died,
Turmoil that’s lasted for decades—
Decades, if not centuries,
Decades since some maniac spoke,
Spoke against those whom he disliked,
Spoke about mythology,
Mythology of a “superior” race,
Mythology meant for desperate ears—
Ears yearning for post-war relief,
Ears yearning for post-war hope,
Hope for a revitalized nation,
Hope at the expense of others—
Others who didn’t fit a given image,
Others who were “weird,”
Weird in strangers’ eyes,
Weird according to one man’s vision—
Vision that still lingers,
Vision that still carries on,
On in hateful hearts,
On in warped minds,
Minds warped by stereotyping,
Minds warped with fear,
Fear that they on turn spread,
Fear we must all overcome.
Overcome in the name of enlightenment.
Overcome in the name of peace—
Peace that we all desire,
Peace we’ve long needed,
Needed in the face of all this hostility,
Needed in the wake of so many kills.
Hostility…
Kills.

*****

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

Poem of the Week: First Impressions of iWitness

First Impressions of iWitness
August 7, 2017

Watching Internet vids to earn money,
Cataloguing ev’ry minor detail.
Sadly, the host’s not the least bit funny,
And personality-wise, he’s a fail.
Campy scenes that go by in an eye’s blink
From which the players gather their info…
The base idea itself doesn’t stink,
But the vids themselves kinda bore me so,
Featuring the same schlocky YouTube flair
I’ve seen so often it makes my head spin.
I’m thus not sure whether or not to care
‘Bout what value this show may have within.
Guess I’ll have to give it one more fair shot
To see if I like this program or not.

*****

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

Poem of the Week: Haste Makes Waste

Haste Makes Waste
August 4, 2017

Haste
Rushed job
Hurrying, scurrying, panicking
That’s when mistakes happen
Misthinking, misdoing, backfiring
Big mess
Waste

*****

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

Poem of the Week: Empty

Empty
July 28, 2017

Empty.
Nothing there.
Puzzling, pondering, stalling.
I’ve got jack squat.
Irritating, frustrating, embarrassing…
Forget this!
Bedtime.

*****

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

Poem of the Week: Visions of a Working Class Writer

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.

*****

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