Bonus Poem of the Week: A Message for All Aspiring Novelists

A Message to All Aspiring Novelists
April 18, 2017

No one likes being rejected and tossed into the muck,
Having noses turn up at him or her and wished “Best of luck.”
No one likes being cast out from where he or she wants to be
Or denied that which he or she’s been fighting for. Believe me.
No one likes to struggle, especially when it comes to
Simply getting through the day. This I can assure you.
Even when there’s a pot of gold at the rainbow’s end,
Crossing said rainbow can be a chore. On that you can depend.
So much of a chore it is, too, that time and time again,
Too many people throw up their arms and walk away in the end,
Never to realize their dream, whether they deserve
To live that dream or not, all because of how their nerves
Have become shot over the course of months or years at a time,
And in the case of the worthy folks, it really is a crime,
For who’ll ever know the stories they could’ve shared with the world?
Certainly not the commonplace man, woman, boy, or girl
Or anyone who’d benefit from the messages within,
Even if said benefit is merely escaping the sin
And vice that’s been gripping the world for far too many years now.
Trust me…we all could use some escapism these days…and how!
We all deserve new stories with each year that passes by.
We all need something new to feed our hungry ears and eyes.
Otherwise, the old tales, good and bad, will grow stale,
And as they do, so will our minds, lest new storytellers prevail
To provide us with new substance with which to enrich our souls
And awaken within us the will to carry on into the fold
And accept each day as it comes, no matter what’ll be in store
When it happens to arrive, so long as it isn’t an utter bore.
After all, life’s one big adventure that we all undertake,
And it’s up to us to make the most of it with what we make
In terms of goals and other decisions and the choices that lead
Us down one path or another, and what better way to heed
This message than gleam inspiration from the stories we learn
To spark our thoughts and ambitions and help our hearts’ fires burn
With the passion that keeps us going every hour of the day.
That being said, why let rejection keep getting in the way?
The dream is still worth having, even though it may not seem so,
So keep your chins up and your noses to the grindstone and tally ho!
Keep your wits about you, too, and learn what makes a sale,
And may courage, creativity, and wisdom help you prevail
In the seemingly never-ending saga of chasing a dream
That might actually be more attainable than it might now seem,
For stories are more important than even you may ever know,
And only a sharp mind and a strong heart will help you see just so.

*****

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

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
                         Amazon.com
                         Amazon.co.uk

Bonus Poem of the Week: Screwing in My Heels

Screwing in My Heels
April 5, 2017

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

*****

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

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
                         Amazon.com
                         Amazon.co.uk

Poem of the Week: Stupid Media, Stupid People

Stupid Media, Stupid People
March 10, 2017

Stupid media
Stupid people
People without standards
People with dead morals
Morals gone down the toilet
Morals and values
Values we all should have
Values we’ve all given up on
On TV
On movie screens
Screens filled with bleakness
Screens filled with gratuitous crap
Crap like brazen sex
Crap like excessive violence
Violence already rampant
Violence without levity
Levity from toxic stimuli
Levity that we all need
Need and want
Need but don’t have
Have we no spine
Have we no mind
Mind to reject this filth
Mind to demand better
Better for tomorrow’s generation
Better from media creators
Creators with more cash than credibility
Creators with more praise than talent
Talent elsewhere being ignored
Talent elsewhere being rejected
Rejected for little to no reason
Rejected at the gate
Gate locked tightly
Gate locked shut
Shut on new ideas
Shut on fresh ideas
Ideas that could reinvigorate
Ideas that could revitalize
Revitalize a scene so stale
Revitalize a scene so deprived
Deprived of vitality
Deprived of human interest
Interest from a new generation
Interest in something different
Different times
Different measures
Measures to be taken seriously
Measures to be taken now
Seriously!
Now!

*****

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

Poem of the Week: Alphabet Rush of Defiance

Alphabet Rush of Defiance
February 27, 2017

Aggravation. Boredom. Carelessness, too.
Damned if I doze off every midday through.
Evenings I’ve spent working for a future yet to come.
Goodness gracious, do I feel like such a blasted bum!
How the hell can I do it? I guess I may never know.
Just judge me, though, for trying, when I have something to show
Knuckleheads like you, for a loser you may see,
But a moron I’m not, nor a nimrod I shall be.
Opportunity waits, after all, and pretty soon,
I’ll quickly rise through the ranks and leave you to swoon
At all the trouble I’ve endured and the triumph I’ll procure
Under ugly circumstances with much venom to endure.
What will you do then? X-crete in your pants with shock?
Yeah, I can believe that. Now please return to your flock
As I zig and zag through obstacles to become number one.
Until then, keep mocking me. I dare you, naysaying scum!

*****

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

Bonus Poem of the Week: Sadly the Best Poem I Could Think Up on a Given Wednesday

Sadly the Best Poem I Could Think Up on a Given Wednesday
February 15, 2017

Emptiness
Dull mind
Trying, failing, wasting
What the hell, man?
Stressing, straining, stalling
Screw this!
Done

*****

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

Poem of the Week: Books DON’T Suck

Books DON’T Suck
February 19, 2017

“Screw books! Books suck!” so I hear so many say
From my generation downward since YouTube’s younger days.
It’s all about video games with them and other electronics
Upon which they derive their usual entertainment fix.
Now, sure, I like my V-games every once in a while.
Hell, I used to buy older ones when they were already out of style.
I also like the occasional movie and television show,
But does that mean I hate books or should have to? Hell no!
Sure, they might not be as interactive as games can be,
Nor are their visuals as animated as those from films and TV,
But guess what: My imagination still works and can easily
Visualize any story that one’s written for you or me,
And when I want to put my mind to use during my downtime,
I’d rather spend it reading a book than watching whatever slime
The networks have slapped on my TV, from insipid comedies
And by-the-numbers dramas to artificial “reality”
And have it thrown in my face with all the grace and tact
Like a potty-mouthed “alpha” male bragging ‘bout his soulless sex life, jack.
Let’s not even talk about movies, the gamble that they are,
Which can sometimes be enjoyable, yet other times leave a scar
Based on how poorly written and acted they often can be
With shameless violence, sex, profanity, and nudity
Thrown in for good measure by clueless writers who think
Shock value adds something to bad scripts when it just makes them stink
More than they already do, no matter the topic at hand,
Even though many a trashy movie’s made millions across the land.
Even video games can be a pain in the neck at times
With the many microtransactions, shoddy game designs
And glitches galore that have plagued the industry for so long,
Amongst a slew of other flaws that still need to say “so long.”
Not only that, but books don’t cost any electricity,
Nor do they need a special monitor to read them, you see—
Unless you’re talking e-books, but then again, I like to be
Away from my computer whenever I can, I hope you see.
One especially doesn’t need a special console to read a book.
Just have one in your hand and open it up to take a look
At whatever’s on its pages. Who knows? You just might like
Whatever tale it’s telling and how it takes you from the tripe
Of the cold, harsh reality with which we all must deal.
I can certainly tell you how a good book has often helped me heal
By taking me out of whatever nasty situation I’m in
And giving me someone else to root for whom I hope will win
In his or her own struggles, which might often even parallel
The spot I happen to be in myself—my present private hell.
Even when that’s not the case, a good book can entertain
Me with interesting characters and a moral from which I can gain
Knowledge and wisdom from which I can apply later on in life
To whatever circumstances I might face that bring me strife.
Sure, not every book’s like this, but I could say the same
For anything else out there, be it a film, show, or video game.
Besides, why should I let one crappy book or another
Prevent me from enjoying a different book altogether, brother?
Not every piece of entertainment, no matter the form it takes,
Can live up to our expectations, and I can’t help but want to make
This point real to every person who dares call all books crap,
As that’s not the case at all, for most books don’t deserve such a rap—
Just like not every film or show’s a load of violent smut
That’s aimed to appeal to idiots and leave smart folks in a rut
In their search for honest entertainment that’s been crafted with care,
Which is why folks like me keep searching for whatever’s out there
And never settle for one form of entertainment or another.
Such is the mindset I believe should be adopted by others,
Even if they’ve been forced to read utter crap in school,
Or otherwise came across a book that simply wasn’t cool,
For defecating on literature only cheats one in the end
From options in how to spend one’s time outside the grind, friend.
That being said, no matter what any naysayer might say,
Give books a chance, for you’ll never know how they’ll make your day
‘Til you actually pick one up and give it an honest read.
Who knows? You just might be doing yourself a noble deed.

*****

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

Poem of the Week: Talent is NOT Overrated

Talent Is NOT Overrated
February 12, 2017

“Talent is overrated.” Such is what certain insiders say.
“So long as the concept is catchy enough, people will come to pay.
It makes no difference how stupid, forced, contrite, or insincere
A story is, so long as it brings us the dough we hold so dear.”

“I’m sorry…what?” I demand in the face of such BS,
For talent indeed means something, so allow me to address
This point in this poem for the sake of encouraging
Ambitious, intelligent authors to at last seek their chance to sing
As well as publishers everywhere to give these folks the chance
The fame and fortune that others ‘fore them have gotten from the dance,
Be said prize deserved or not, for these days, more than ever,
Folks deserve to read material that’s bound to last forever.

So talent’s overrated? Then what can you really expect
When folks pay for, read, and have their brains befouled by some hack’s dreck
And discover the hard way just how sloppy it’d been thrown together
And that it can’t hold a candle to the greats in any kind of weather?
What do you say when shock value’s the only “merit” upon which
Said story can stand itself? Can you really praise it without a twitch
Of your lips or nose or eyelids, or will you end up giving away
The objective truth that said work never should’ve seen the light of day?

Now let me tell you what you can gain from a book that’s well-written:
A tale that can stand strong ‘gainst the competition and leave folks smitten
With characters worth investing in, a plot that can last through the ages,
And a feeling of satisfaction once one’s done flipping through the pages—
That is until years pass and one feels compelled to read it again
And the tale ends up being every bit as good as it did back then.
Not only that, but word of mouth and recognition can spread
Like wildfire about such genuinely good stuff until it’s been read
By the masses far and wide who, in turn, will sing its praises
Of the work year after year ‘til its legend lasts throughout the ages,
Which eventually leads to more copies sold and hence cash earned
For author, agent, and publisher alike, leaving to be burned
Only the fools who can’t write and any agent dumb enough
To scoff at the one work’s writer and claim it hasn’t the stuff.

Many is, after all, the agent who hasn’t the brains or the spine
To support that which has value in these messy , troubled times
Who’s time and again turned down such stuff for irredeemable crap
To sell to publishers so that said suits could have cash in their laps
From feeding the desperate masses whatever they could shovel out,
Which in turn has dulled the masses’ senses and made them mindless clouts
While those who’ve demanded better for so long have been made to starve
Or to look elsewhere to sate their hunger and avoid the barbs
Of the tainted crap that’s had no talent or love put into it.
Now, tell me: When it comes to change, don’t you see the world as fit?

Because if you ask me, then yes, the industry must change.
For too long have we been fed crap. Things must be rearranged.
Talent is not overrated. Stop shoving that mantra down
Our throats because at this point, we need more talent to go around,
And not just talent, either, but also effort and love—
The kind of passion that fits talent like a hand in a glove
And has made many a classic in every industry you can name.
It’s a tried-and-true method from the past that surely can do the same
In this era, should we all at least try to make the effort to
Promote the works of talented writers to be read by me and you.

*****

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

Poem of the Week: Square Peg

Square Peg
February 6, 2017

Square peg, square peg, what do you see?
I see a round hole staring back at me—
A hole so round like so many more before
Into which I’ve tried to fit ‘til I could take it no more,
For every time I’ve tried, I’d learned the hard way
Why I didn’t belong there, and it’s really hard to say
Why it’s taken me so long to even try to find
A spot to call my own and leave my worries behind.
Worse yet, I know not how much longer I can take
Going through the paces and being lost in the wake
Of other people’s success when I, time and again,
Have failed to find my niche and make all right in the end.
What is it that I’m doing wrong? Where is it that I must go
To finally overcome all my frustration and woe?
What is it I must do to finally prove to the world
That I’m actually worth as much as any other boy or girl
Or woman or man walking beneath Heaven’s balmy sky?
Will I ever find true happiness at all before I die?
Will it ever turn out that I can at last be happy with life,
Or am I doomed to forever live in pain and strife?
Either way, I’m growing tired of poking around
And figuring out where I fit all snug, safe, and sound.
I’ll keep on trying, however, al the same in vain hope,
Even though my journey’s already sent me to the end of my rope.
“A place for everything,” after all, “and everything in its place,”
And I refuse to be known as a sad, pitiful disgrace
Who enjoys sitting on his haunches wallowing in self-pity,
Especially when I’ve still a chance to end up in the big city
And relish the rest of my life in paradise and luxury.
Now that’s the kind of life I’d like to live, you see.
Until then, though, I’m stuck here wondering what I should do
To at last escape this hell and make my dreams come true,
And only time will tell if things go ne way or another.
Either way, keep your fingers crossed for me, sisters and brothers,
For this square peg, one way or another, is set to fit
Somewhere on this peg board ‘cause I can’t afford to quit.

*****

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