Poem of the Week: A Day for Heroes (Veteran’s Day 2018)

A Day for Heroes (Veteran’s Day 2018)

November 10, 2018

Valor in the face of uncertainty,
Eyes and ears alert at all times,
Threats aplenty faced over the decades,
Effort always in fighting slime,
Rigorous training in defending freedom,
Adamantly protecting the U.S. dream,
Never slacking in preparing for the worst,
Solidarity more than any other team.

Destined for glory in answering the call,
American colors flying true,
Years of service you’ve paid for our sake…

…This day, heroes, is for you.


Author Pages: Smashwords.com


The picture included above (c) 2018 courtesy of FringeSport.com. The poem itself, however, is the author’s own. 


Poem of the Week: A Writer’s Work

A Writer’s Work
August 14, 2018

A writer’s work is never done,
Whether it’d be a chore or fun,
And it starts when you begin your first book,
So have a moment and take a look
For something that stimulates your mind.
Then, from there, it’s to the grind
To work on something hopefully fresh
That puts your talents to the test,
Telling a new tale that with which
Has turned on your brain like a light switch
Flipped by a soul entering a dark room.
Question, though, is will your mind bloom
With twists and turns for your tale to take,
Or will your brain suddenly hit the breaks
Once your idea first hits the page,
Then fume and boil with flustered rage
As it tries to think of what comes next,
Only to end up hopelessly vexed?
After all, it pays not to force
A story that simply won’t take course,
And it only makes sense instead to try
Another route by which your brain won’t fry,
Taking notes along the way
To see just how your story will sway
And taking control when things get rough
‘Til your tale’s at last solid enough
To submit to an agent, who
Won’t turn up her nose and go “poo-poo”
All over it like it’s a load of crap
Like a free-to-play, pay-to-win phone app,
But show it to a publisher, who will
Give it the attention it needs to fill
Your dream of giving the next generation
Something to inspire their station.
Then, should your book become a hit,
Who knows which step you may see fit?
A sequel, perchance, to book one
With more to come ‘til the series is done?
Another work that’s entirely new
To give readers’ brains something to do?
Perhaps a new genre entirely
To show what kind of writer you can be?
Also, what of the meet-and-greets
That take you out of the writer’s seat
So you can show gratitude towards your fans
For making you famous ‘cross the land?
What of the interviews and conventions
Where you talk about your written inventions
Old and new and try to showcase
Your best side and thus make a good case
For your right to be written in history’s
Annals as one whose work’s worthy to see?
What ‘bout a new agent, should the one
Working for you announces he or she is done?
Who’ll help you spread your name far and wide
As the greatest writer on the countryside?
Do you look for a new one and carry on
Living out your dream until you’re gone,
Or do you retire to live off of
The cash you’ve made from your labor of love?
Whatever the case, one thing’s for sure
In this land so riddled with the impure:
A writer’s work is never done
Once it begins ‘neath Heaven’s sun
’Til he or she him- or herself calls it quits,
And that’s only when he or she sees fit.
Don’t you give up, then, literary stars,
For you could someday reach past Mars
And give the masses a reason to care
‘Bout what you’ve to say to all anywhere,
And your legacy shall live on for days,
Weeks, months, years—eons, in some ways.
All you need to do is take that first step,
And you just might be successful yet.


Author Pages: Smashwords.com
Twitter: @DustinMWeber18

Poem of the Week: The Toxic Stuff

The Toxic Stuff
April 7, 2017

I’m cutting out all the toxic stuff
I’ve bothered with over the years
That’s caused me more pain
Than netted me gain
And led me to wallow here.

No more caving in to my fears,
For doing so brings no gain.
Time to screw in my heels
And spin the wheels
In my mind before I go insane.

I’ve so much yet in my life to gain.
Why should grief anymore make me squeal?
Enough is enough
Of this dramatic stuff.
Seeking inner peace is my new deal.

I want to know again how happiness feels,
So good riddance, negative fluff!
Get on out of here
‘Fore I kick your fat rear
And cast you from my life in a huff.


Author Pages: Smashwords.com

Bonus Poem of the Week: Screwing in My Heels

Screwing in My Heels
April 5, 2017

Bitter, jaded
Fretting, lamenting, panicking
Gotta change my luck
Studying, orchestrating, toiling
Work complete!


Author Pages: Smashwords.com

Poem of the Week: Villanelle of Courage

Villanelle of Courage
March 19, 2017

I’m quite done feeling sorry for myself.
I’ve moaned enough groans and cried enough tears.
Time to store my self-pity on the shelf.

For too long, I’ve felt like a hapless whelp,
Always at the mercy of my own fear.
I’m quite done feeling sorry for myself.

Facing things alone, few folks ‘round to help,
Nagging doubts always raging in my ears…
Time to store my self-pity on the shelf.

‘Tis the cruelest thing in my life I’ve felt.
Nowadays, though, I’ve grown sick of the jeers.
I’m quite done feeling sorry for myself.

It’s about time I stood up for myself,
Took life by the horns, and conquered my fears.
Time to store my self-pity on the shelf.

After all, I alone can teach myself
To attain and keep that which I hold dear.
I’m quite done feeling sorry for myself.
Time to store my self-pity on myself.


Author Pages: Smashwords.com

Bonus Poem of the Week: Future of Fortune

Future of Fortune
November 18, 2015

Trying to make a living, trying to be a man,
Not exactly succeeding, but doing the best I can,
Relying on my own money—what’s left of it, leastways—
Not wanting to rely on others’ cash as I live day to day.

Trying to be a good person to the folks surrounding me,
As compassionate and considerate as I can possibly be,
Even towards the scumbags who treat me like I’m trash,
No matter how much I want to kick any of them in the ass.

Trying to work my own ass off at what I love to do
In hopes that it takes me somewhere and makes my dreams come true.
Trying to be smart and diligent in my quest to secure my place
And prove to the world, both friend and foe, that I’m not a disgrace.

Still, no matter what I do, no matter how hard I work,
No matter how much I try to not make myself look like a jerk,
No matter how I tend to my health and financial security,
Something happens that makes me shake my head and ask, “Why me?”

Whether it’s agents scoffing at my work like I’m some bum
Or my health insurance company jacking up my premium
Or my own stinking cowardice getting the better of me,
There’s something going on in my life that just won’t let me be.

Clearly I’ve done something wrong to bring this upon myself—
To make myself a pauper, lower than anyone else.
Was I that lazy as a child in forging my destiny?
Was I that stupid to not figure out just what I wanted to be?

Did I tick off the wrong person? Did I say something wrong
To put myself on the Powers That Be’s blacklist for oh so long?
Did I do or not do something to derail me from my success?
Ah, but if I could figure out the source of my distress!

Then again, time travel doesn’t exist in this reality,
And who knows the paradoxes I’d cause in my quest to see
Myself in a better place than what I’ve put myself in?
Would the world turn out for the better or even more wracked with sin?

Also, what’s the point in hoping for a second life,
Reincarnation or otherwise, to save me from this strife
When I’ve got this life to live right now and make up for my mistakes?
Such is all I’ve got now in the face of these grave stakes.

Well, whatever the case may be, it’s time I screwed in my heels,
For only I can save myself from this unbearable deal.
I’ve made this mess for myself ultimately, and now,
It’s up to me to clean up my act and save myself somehow.

No more messed-up priorities! No more screwing around!
No more childish excuses keeping me tied to the ground!
I’ve done enough in my life to hold me back from destiny,
And no matter who or what else might be getting in the way of me,

From now on, it’s up to me to at last set things straight.
I’ve suffered long enough within the folds of this fate,
And anyone who might want to help me can’t, plain and simple,
While those who ought to would much rather fester like pimples

On a teenage face, and Heaven knows my teenage days are done.
Never mind my childhood. I’m that far from being young,
And I’m not getting any younger, either, so plague my wretched stalling!
It’s time to put this pity party to rest and heed my calling.

Look out, future of fortune! Here I finally come
To accept responsibility for my fate and become
The person I’ve long meant to be and forge my legacy
In hopes of bettering the world for others as well as for me.


Author Pages: Smashwords.com



Poem of the Week: An Admittedly Long-Winded Poem about Fan Support

An Admittedly Long-Winded Poem about Fan Support
October 15, 2015

For every schoolyard bully who gets in a classmate’s face,
We’re told there is a teacher to help put her in her place.
For every mugger who mauls his prey and swipes their hard-earned cash,
We’re told the cops are on the prowl to cuff and cage his ass.
For every maniac with world domination on his mind,
We’re told some nation’s leader’s set on squashing his sorry behind.

However, what about the evils we see on TV,
In cinema, and in literature, plain as plain can be?
What about the vileness we hear on the radio?
Just how do we respond to the notes that bring us woe?
What about all the glitches that corrupt our video games
And act how they aren’t supposed to, driving many of us insane?

Do we avoid the bad stuff and sing about the good,
Praising the latter for its merits like any fan should
And spread the word about it so that folks give it a try
And end up liking it every bit as much as you and I,
Or do we all succumb to the same bombastic hype
That everybody else does, only in the end to gripe
About the wretched filth that the masses scoop on up
And eat in droves while smiling like starving, clueless pups?

Do we make sure our tastes, morals, and values stay in tact
When it comes to entertainment, or do we fall off track
And let people who know better or who are biased as hell
Shove smut and nonsense in our face and tell us all it’s swell?
Do we stand by our standards and stay true to ourselves
Or let our morbid curiosity determine what line our shelves?

Do we allow fresh ideas and strong morals to shine
And that which promote these messages exist to last all time,
Or do we let the mindless majority sway our stance
And destroy all we love and once loved before it has that chance?

Plus, in the case of the former, just how loud are we
In voicing our opinion on how things ought to be?
Do we give others a chance to hear what we truly feel,
Or do we keep it to ourselves while Father Time spins his wheels
And let the wicked carry on deceiving the masses,
Warping folks’ collective mind ‘til all are senseless and classless
And society as we know it forfeits its last chance to be great
And declines into dystopia—a violent, sickly state?

The choice is yours, dear readers, to fight for what you believe.
Do you stand for class and honesty while others deceive
In hopes of ushering what could be a new golden age
Where truth and wisdom permeate ‘cross each screen, station, and page,
Or will you let the current status quo continue to
Destroy the morals and values that have made me and you
And bring civilization down to worse than it is now?
Such is the conundrum we’ve been facing for so long, and how!


Author Pages: Smashwords.com