Poem of the Week: Fake Friends

Fake Friends
June 23, 2017

Fake friends
Fake fans
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
Feigned support
Feigned effort
Effort in their own content
Effort in their own design
Design all identical
Design so lazy
Lazy and sparse
Lazy and nonexistent
Nonexistent quality
Nonexistent care
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
You
Matter

*****

Author Pages: Smashwords.com
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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
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Poem of the Week: Bullying Is Stupid

Bullying Is Stupid
April 23, 2017

Boorish you are, thoughtless and crude.
Ugly’s your behavior, senseless and rude.
Loathesome are your actions, so unprovoked.
Lies you tell others via your sick jokes.
You alone benefit from your cowardice.
Idiotic are the grounds for your gist.
Nasty you are for your moral flaws.
Good god, the grief and self-hate you cause!

I don’t get what your deal is, you dumb brat.
Spineless yet arrogant…where’s your head at?

Sick in the head. That’s all I can say.
To treat you with EST would make my day.
Useless it is to teach you otherwise,
Punk-ass bitch who needs to be cut down to size.
Infantile coward too scared to grow up.
Damned if your callousness doesn’t make me throw up.

*****

Author Pages: Smashwords.com
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Poem of the Week: The Breakup

The Breakup
April 17, 2017

It’s over. It’s done. It’s finished. We’re through.
What else can I say to get it through to you?
I’ve broken up with you a while ago as things stand,
Yet you keep contacting me in an effort to demand
The attention I once gave you for three whole years.
I gave us all I had, but never once did I hear
From you how grateful you were for my unbridled love,
Not even during those times when push came to shove.
All give, no take—such was my end in the deal.
Now that we’re no longer one, let’s see how you feel,
Now that I’ve stopped giving. Let’s see what you can take.
Let’s see just how long now before you finally break,
‘Cause only then will you know exactly how I’ve been
These past three years plus time after time again.
Trouble is, though, I doubt you’ll change your tune at all,
And the next sap you hook up with will be forced to fall
For your charms and other nonsense just like I had.
My best wishes to him, though, for no one needs it so bad
As what I’d suffered from you, and I’m sure glad I’m gone
From your life forevermore, and I hope after this song
That I never need to return to you ever again,
For I know what you’re all about now from back when,
And hopefully other people will see you for who you are,
Albeit the easy way, for this nasty facial scar
I still bear from our days is too much of a reminder
For me of all those times you’ve put me through the grinder.
Hopefully, no one else will have to bear such a burden
Of warning others of you, but hey…I’m done hurtin’.
I’m moving on with my life far away from you,
No longer concerning myself with what you say or do,
Lest you’re hurting someone else. Then in that case,
I’ll put my foot back down and get right back in your face
To put you back in your place where you bloody belong
According to the frustration you surely feel from this song.
Otherwise, take the hint from one who all too well
Knows the stunts you pull, which’ll surely send you to Hell:
Cut out the nonsense right now and go the hell away
And never return to bother anyone else another day.

*****

Author Pages: Smashwords.com
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Poem of the Week: The Vermin of YouTube

The Vermin of YouTube
March 31, 2017

Childish, foul-mouthed twerps bitching and moaning
‘Bout their fave networks going to the dogs;
Nagging malcontents whining and groaning,
Saying all films “suck”…self-entitled hogs;
Pompous nerds screaming ‘bout which characters
Are “killing” their favorite franchises;
Thin-skinned brats acting oh so immature
Likening their peers to groups like ISIS;
Conspiracy nuts shrieking lies so dumb
To make themselves feel better and us ill;
Lonely, bored trolls whose small minds are so numb
They feel the need to smear us with their swill…
All a sample of the hot trash in store
That can make surfing YouTube quite a chore.

*****

Author Pages: Smashwords.com
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Bonus Poem of the Week: Another Rant about 21st Century Human Stupidity

Another Rant about 21st Century Human Stupidity
March 15, 2017

Some say we’ve lost our soul. Some say we’ve lost our body…
Hence why our entertainment media’s long been shoddy,
But if you ask me, I’d say we’ve also lost our minds,
For how stupid must we be to not choose to leave behind
All the crap that’s been in the world now for so long?
What else can make us believe that we’ve got nothing wrong
On our bookshelves, radios, game consoles, and TV and film screens?
‘Cause guess what—it ain’t perfect, if you know just what I mean.
That’s just the tip of this iceberg, though, for look at what else
Is wrong with us, such as just how wrapped up in ourselves
We’ve become over the years with these days being worse than ever.
For example, look at what happens when people get together
On the Internet, and one moron acts out his or her inner child
Against something quite innocent, being anything but mild
With an illiterate, long-winded tantrum either void of punctuation
Or riddled with exclamation points and poor capitalization
As he or she batters the poor soul with whom he or she disagrees,
Spewing out insults and accusations with the greatest of ease
Peppered with death threats, name-calling, and (of course) profanity,
Thinking such a display will make him or her look like a tough S.O.B.
When reality proves he or she is naught but a spiteful brat
Who really ought to clean up his or her act soon or just scat,
For such behavior in the real world doesn’t fly with most folks.
In fact, acting childish and self-entitled often blows up in smoke
And lands people in the doghouse, where other folks come to see
Just how infantile, deprived, and pathetic we humans can be.
Alas, too many are the places human foulness rears its head—
So many, in fact, that I’m surprised my soul isn’t yet dead
From having come across so many assholes gathered in one place
Relishing over foolish crap as humanity they further disgrace
With lies, both in word and in picture, of people better than they
Will ever be, not to mention all the tacky words they say;
Racial, sexist, and homophobic slurs; curses galore;
Celebrating innocent people’s deaths; and more trash talk in store
For all morbidly curious enough to read such crap themselves
With even more warped reality waiting for them the deeper they delve.
To think such scum exist in the real world never sits well with me.
“It takes all kinds,” I understand, but honestly, why should it be
That unprovoked hatred should run so rampant in this day and age?
Will we ever move forward in this world or forever stay on this page
And never progress in the story of the human race as it can be?
‘Cause really, I’ve had it up to my brow with such stupidity.
To think, too, that I’ve only scratched the surface of how braindead
Humanity can be with all the words I’ve already said.
The problem is, though, if I were to go on with this gripe,
I’d be here all day losing my own mind reporting all the tripe
I’ve seen and heard in all the years I’ve come to know it, friends,
So please forgive me for bringing this rant to a premature end.
The point remains, though, that we as a people have a ways
To go before we can claim that we’ve grown up in any way,
And I hope that day comes soon while I’m still alive to hear and see
Humanity reach its moral potential and prove how great we can be.

*****

Author Pages: Smashwords.com
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Bonus Poem of the Week: Minooka…Again!

Minooka…Again!
February 16, 2017

10:28 this morning, just trying to do my thing
And get things done when suddenly, I hear my telephone ring.
Ring-a-ling-a-ling! Once again, ringing off the hook.
Damn it all! Can’t anyone simply let me finish my book?

So I check my Caller ID, and what else do I see?
The name “Minooka” flashing mockingly right back at me
With an all-too-familiar number beneath it, making me think,
“Oh, hell no! Not this crap again. Boy, does my luck stink.”

After all, over a month ago, these bastards called my home
To demand money from me, threatening to not leave me alone
Until I donated to one of the countless charities
They claimed to represent, to which I said “And their names, please?”

The fact that I also had to say “Hello?” multiple times
When I answered them to get and answer back boggles my mind.
Hell, they even hung up a few times when I dared to answer their calls,
Which I’ll admit was dumb of me, but here’s why I did so at all:

Picking up to tell them to take me off their calling list
Was the only way they’d back off—the only way they’d get the gist—
As calling them later on to tell them that very same thing
Would only lead me to an automated lecture or something

That wouldn’t connect me to a live person whose ear I could chew
Off in my mission to tell them that when it came to them, I was through.
Instead, their robot gave me an earful ‘bout their exemption from
The Do No Call list just ‘cause they’re “charity collector” scum

Who probably keep the lion’s share of whatever money they make
And give only fifteen percent to those whom they collect for. Those fakes!
I’ve been wise to that crap for so long, it isn’t even funny,
Which is why if I feel at all compelled to give any of my money

To any organization, I first see if they’re legit,
And only then, once I see that they are, do I see them as fit
Of a direct donation to their cause—never over the phone,
Especially via unsolicited calls that won’t leave me alone—

The kind of calls Minooka’s made time after time after time,
Even when I ignore them completely and they’re not on my mind,
Yet they kept on coming back in the day, and I hoped in vain that they
Would take the hint from my silence and they would’ve gone away.

Clearly, though, that wasn’t the case, and I’ve come to decide
That maybe investing in a call blocker would’ve helped save my hide—
Assuming, of course, that good ol’ Minooka didn’t have a second number
To work around such a defense, thus making such a move a blunder.

Here they are again, though, calling me in the middle of the day,
Demanding money from me as though it’s my obligation to pay.
I thought this crap was over and done with, but clearly, I was wrong,
Else I’d be singing at this moment a whole different kind of song.

Looks like I’ll need a call blocker after all now. Son of a gun!
Then maybe I’ll contact the FCC if I want this battle won.
These unwarranted calls, after all, have got to stop somehow,
Fr the harassment I’m getting now has really got me having a cow.

Enjoy tormenting me ‘til then, Minooka, for it won’t be long
‘Til you finally get your comeuppance and I prove to you how wrong
You are to keep asking the same target time after time again
For cash to fill your own bank account. It’s all just a matter of when.

*****

Author Pages: Smashwords.com
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Bonus Poem of the Week: Knock It Off, Minooka!

Knock It Off, Minooka!
October 7, 2016

Knock it off, Minooka! Your calls are driving me mad.
This is the worst case of harassment in a while that I’ve had.
You’ve called us nine times already in two-and-a-half weeks.
I can’t escape you no matter what, and it’s given me the creeps.

Knock it off, Minooka! You’re flat-out annoying me.
You call me up to thrice a day. Why can’t you let me be?
You say you collect for a number of different charities?
Well, I’d rather donate to them directly if you’d let me, please.

Knock it odd, Minooka! You’re really ticking me off.
You say you’re on the up-and-up? Please! Don’t make me scoff.
I bet you keep the lion’s share of the cash donated to you
And give but ten percent to the charities you’re connected to.

Knock it off, Minooka! You’re driving me insane.
You know I’m not falling for your tricks or playing your sick game,
So why do you keep calling me? Really, stop wasting your time
And being so inconsiderate, ‘cause you’re also wasting mine.

Knock it off, Minooka! Pay attention and get the gist.
I don’t care if callers like you are exempt from the DNC list.
I still feel like you’re stalking me for my life, so please let it go.
Stop calling me and get it through your skulls that “No” means “No!”

*****

Author Pages: Smashwords.com
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Poem of the Week: I Don’t Sub for Sub

Hey, readers!

I usually hate whining, regardless if it’s coming from someone else’s mouth or my own. For this week’s “Poem of the Week,” though, I’ve decided to submit a work based on an annoyance I’ve been having with this blog for the past two to three months that I’ve no doubt has been just as much a problem for so many other WordPress bloggers. It’s more or less an extension to the message of my poem from July 12, which you’re all free to read in the instance that any of you would like more background information on the subject at hand.

Also, for the record, I would like to give a nice big shoutout to each and every one of my subscribers who has stuck around to read my stuff since day one as well as invite you all to keep doing so. Your input, no matter which form it takes—be it subscribing to my blog via WordPress or email, leaving me feedback concerning my work, sharing my blog posts with others, and even buying my books from one of my author pages (See the links below.)—means a lot. Likewise, for those of you out there who also enjoy my material and would like to support what I do any which way you can, feel free to do so, and I will continue to supply you with more material to suit your fancy. Otherwise, the poem below is yours for the reading, and I hope you all can forgive whatever negative tone I give off in it.

Graciously Yours,
Dustin M. Weber

*****

I Don’t Sub for Sub
August 31, 2016

I don’t sub for sub. Such an act is crap.
Either like my stuff or don’t. Don’t just sub
In hopes that I’ll come, fall into your lap,
And worship your own lack of substance, bub.
My computer ain’t my life, after all.
I don’t live on it 24/7.
Great content exists, but I can’t see all
There is beneath the sun up in Heaven.
It’s nothing personal, either…just truth.
Grow a thick skin, then, please, and just move on.
This ain’t Twitter or Tumblr, super sleuth.
This is WordPress. Let’s try to get along.
Like my stuff? Then sub! Don’t like it? Then don’t.
Please take this to heart…though I fear you won’t.

*****

Author Pages: Smashwords.com
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Bonus Poem of the Week: Don’t Like It? Then Leave It!

Don’t Like It? Then Leave It!
August 5, 2016

Don’t like it? Then leave it and don’t come back.
Don’t sit there stamping your feet like the brat
You are and demand that things go your way.
It ain’t gonna happen ‘cause that ain’t the way
The people to whom you’re whining operate,
So spare us all your pettiness and hate
As well as your misconceptions of perfection.
You want change? Shut up and make your defection
‘Cause you keep on bitching ‘bout the same damn thing
Every time you open your mouth to sing,
Even when you finally get what you want
‘Cause you apparently can’t help but flaunt
Your asinine opinion of one tiny thing
Over and over again until it stings
The brains of those unfortunate to read it.
We get it, nitpicker. Now shut up and beat it!
Also, I’m sure you’d say the same thing to us
For getting so upset and causing a fuss
Over something we’ve read that we could’ve ignored,
But now you’re spamming your opinion like you’re bored
When once could’ve and should’ve been enough,
But no! Once wasn’t enough of the stuff
In your little mind ‘cause you’re trying to change those
Of the people running things with your groundless woes.
Have your opinion if you want, but stop
With the constant ranting, which’ll get you nowhere, pop.
Just grow up and move on. That’s all there is to it.
Don’t want to operate that way? Screw it!
You’ve had your say, sir. Now cut the crap!
We’re sick and tired of your petty, childish rap.
You’re just being a pain. That’s all there’s left to say.
Now please crawl back into your hole and stay
‘Cause you’re adding nothing to anything anymore
But a pain in our necks. Mine’s especially sore.

*****

As Colin Mochrie would say... "SHUT UP!!! JUST SHUT UP AND DO IT!

As Colin Mochrie once said…
“SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP AND DO IT!”

Author Pages: Smashwords.com
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