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

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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: 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: 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

Poem of the Week: Yet Another Minooka Telemarketing Poem

Yet Another Minooka Telemarketing Poem
June 17, 2017

Ring, ring, ring! Who can it be again
After we’ve been solicitor-free since Time knows when?
Quarter past one on a weekday afternoon,
Second week of summer. Who’d be calling so soon?

Well, son of a gun! Look at the Caller ID.
Is that the word “Minooka” flashing back at me?
The number may be different, but the name’s the same
As that of the solicitors that last year drove me insane.

Well, newsflash! I’m not picking up for them. No way!
I refuse to let these Minooka jerks ruin my day
And insist I donate to some charity they won’t name.
I’m far too wise to that trash to try to play that game.

I know that charity collectors who collect over the phone
Take the brunt of the donations made to them for their own
And give what pennies are left to whatever charities
They represent, not caring if the recipients are on their knees,

Begging for the relief that they deserve directly
And not over the phone from the likes of you or me,
Especially if the handlers end up pocketing the cash
For their own benefit, adding it to their private stash.

Worse yet is how “Minooka” just won’t leave us alone,
Even after we’ve told them bluntly to stop calling us on the phone.
For a while, matters seemed alright ‘til they rang us up again
Using this other number, which I’m sure they had way back when.

So much for a call blocker, then, for those who used such a thing
To protect themselves from one number only for their phones to ring
When Minooka calls from this other line, persistent as they are.
Well, guess what: When it comes to us, they won’t get us too far.

I’m on to you, Minooka, and if you call us again,
I’ll turn you in to the FTC to have you shut down by them.
Let’s see you earn your money then with no one to harass
And no charities to exploit once they’ve locked away your ass.

Good riddance, then, Minooka, and hopefully once and for all.
After all the times you’ve troubled us, I hope you finally fall.
You’re nothing but a greedy pest begging to be put down,
And I doubt I’ll be alone cheering when you’re no longer around.

*****

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

Poem of the Week: Sick of the Bickering

Sick of the Bickering
June 6, 2017

Sick of the bickering, sick of the hating,
Sick of the insults we’ve all been trading,
Sick of the radicals pointing fingers
At each other and feeding that which lingers,
Sick of the drama and emotional sting
Upon which we’re all fixed over the slightest thing,
Sick of that which we but start to address,
Yet fail to solve day in, day out without rest,
Sick of double standards and self-servitude,
Sick of people being patronizing and rude,
Sick of name-calling and accusations,
Sick of twisted truths sweeping ‘cross the nation,
Sick of each lie and excuse I read and hear,
Sick of the blind hatred and unjustified fear,
Sick of the agendas tainting everyone’s mind,
Sick of insulting labels slapped on everyone’s behind,
Sick of thin-skinned brats fighting fire with fire
With the slightest misspoke word stoking folks’ ire,
Sick of the followers of a given cause
Getting their backs ‘gainst a wall, not stopping to pause
And think about their mission and what makes it great
As well as those who plague it with their hate,
Which they use to bash outsiders, their chosen enemies,
When they’ve obstacles already to pass with little ease.
Sick of propaganda being shoved in my face
And folks without my code calling me a disgrace
For keeping my own counsel and following my own rules
And not suffering those who take me for a fool
And talking down to me like I don’t know better
When my sensibilities have helped me weather
More crap than they could even start to understand
In this bitter, paranoid powder keg of a land.
Never will they get it ‘cause they’re too blind
To see how I keep from falling behind.
Outside looking in, I’ve got the edge,
Ears wide open as I peek over the hedge
And see for myself what the hell’s going on
And tune in to the ever-nauseating song
We’ve been hearing for years, if not, in fact, decades
While society all around us further degrades
Into something even more tragic than before,
And it’s gotten to where we clearly can handle no more.
When will we grow up? When will we move on?
When will we sing something other than the same song
We’ve all been singing for clearly way too long?
When will we realize we’ve been doing it wrong?
When will we at last learn that disdain’s not the way
We need to follow if we’re to bring in a better day?
Something’s got to change. Something’s got to give
‘Cause I’m sick of how things are now. They’re no way to live.
It’s time to wake up, people, if we ever hope
To reach even the base of Xanadu’s mighty slopes,
Much less their pinnacles, where we long should’ve been,
So let’s stop it with these feuds we’ve been in
And learn to work together before it’s too late.
Let go of your anger, rise above your hate,
And let’s learn to cooperate so that we
Can ensure a brighter future for you and me.
No more lashing out, bickering, or hating,
No more of the insults we’ve been trading,
Or any of the other crap that’s made me sick.
I’m sure you all, too, have had enough of it.

*****

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

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

Bonus Poem of the Week: The Real Problem Concerning 21st-Century PC Culture part 1

The Real Problem Concerning 21st-Century PC Culture part 1
April 27, 2017

The world’s become downright stupid. It’s as simple as that,
And yet, people blame this or that for where society’s at.
It ain’t just the PC police holding humanity back.
If anything, our own dim insights are why things are out of whack.
Trust me, we can all cry “PC sucks!” ‘til we pass out,
But honestly, such rules are but part of what this is about.

Yes, it’s gotten annoying how we micromanage the way
We interact with each other at every time of day
With even the slightest show of verbal negativity
Labeled as an act of bullying from the likes of you and me,
Even if what we say was but a single, honest thing
And far from a blatant insult…and yet, our words sting,
And we get branded as scumbags, blacklisted in the eyes
Of those who’ve taken our words wrong and now wish we would die
Despite us having carefully chosen the words we’ve said,
Unlike so many others whose words have been heard or read
Who’ve cursed like drunken sailors and screamed like banshees, too,
About that which they hate with no consideration put into
The words they’ve said, which include flagrant profanity
And many an unchecked slur, thus exposing their bigotry
As well as tacky references to real-life tragedies,
Amongst other things that show a flippant lack of diplomacy,
And yet, for some dumb reason, these words so wretched and vile
Are deemed okay by those who’ve red and heard them, yet all the while,
Those of us who’ve carefully monitored what we’ve said are the blight.
Why? ‘Cause of the opinions we’ve expressed? That doesn’t seem right—
Especially when we’ve avoided anything that would imply
Ourselves as any type of villain wandering ‘neath Heaven’s sky…
No insults, no ill wishes, no threats to others’ well-being.
Honestly, I’ll never know what trash these critics are hearing or seeing.

It’s one thing to be sensitive. It’s one thing to give a damn.
It’s another thing, however, to be an overreactive ham
Who loses his or her cool at the slightest repugnant thing,
Whether said person’s PC or not when reacting to the sting.
These people don’t stop to think at all, for all they do is feel,
And the hazards their half-baked retribution brings is all too real,
And with history to tell us of what happens when people snap,
I say it’s high time we tell these kids to take a nap
To sleep off their aggravation before more people get hurt.
That’s the best way I can put it without being too curt,
And why the laws haven’t been written to keep these people in check
I’ll never understand, but here’s one notion I respect:
PC along ain’t the problem. Rather, it’s the lack of brains,
For people on both sides of the spectrum are stupidly insane,
And unless we all wise up soon, things are bound to only get worse,
So everyone, heads out of asses so that we can beat this curse.
Let’s all band together and put an end to mass stupidity
And stop blaming the world’s problems solely on things being PC,
For there’s a much greater problem than the PC police alone,
And unless we know and defeat it, forever will denseness drone.

*****

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