Poem of the Week: Another Rant against Minooka

Another Rant against Minooka
October 16, 2017

Minooka’s at it again.
They’ve come back ‘round the bend—
Back out of their slumber
With a new number,
Harassing us to no end.

They play ring-a-ling ditch with ease
Day after day as they please
With the balderdash
Of collecting cash
For various charities—

That is, of course, unless they
Hang up on one right away
Upon one picking up,
And if that ain’t enough
To ruin their victims’ days,

One can’t even call them back
To tell them “Knock off the attacks!”
For on the other end
Is a robo voice, friend,
To feed callers vapid flack

Of how they’re DNC exempt
And shame on them for the attempt
To launch a complaint
At them ‘cause they ain’t
Having it, no matter how one’s spent.

Now, I’ve railed against these creeps before
And the reality that’s in store
For those foolish enough
To give in to their stuff
And send money to their door.

I’ve mentioned, too, how I won’t fall
For their shtick, should they ever call,
And how one would think
They’d learn their act stinks,
So why should we bother at all

Pestering folks like they still do?
Give it up, Minooka! You’re through.
We’re not falling for your crap,
So shut your trap,
For we’re all now on to you.

We all know ‘bout the games you play
And the price that people pay
One way or another,
And they’ll have not, brother,
So stop this nonsense right away.

You’re not getting another dime
From any wallet, including mine,
For we all now know
What you do with the dough
You might rake in at any given time:

You pocket the lion’s share
And leave but a handful to spare
For X and Y charities,
Making profit as you please
For your “services” without care.

You don’t give a damn at all
‘Bout the needy or how they’ll fall
Without cash for their needs,
Which you prove through your deeds,
And it’s driving me up a wall.

To my call blocker I add one more
Number, for I can take no more,
So take the hint and see
That you must let me be,
Lest you want the feds at your door

To take you to prison at last,
Which would fit your criminal past.
Maybe that’ll be the way
You learn to rue the day
You first sought people to harass.

Good riddance for good, then, Minooka!
We’ve for far too long knew ya,
But when you meet your end
At long last, friend,
You’ll hear but two last words from me” Screw ya!

Then, when you’ve disappeared,
We’ll all grin from ear to ear
‘Til the next sack of scum
Just like you comes
And repeats that which we’ve come to fear.

*****

 

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

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Poem of the Week: Sometimes You’re Better Off Not Looking Back

Sometimes You’re Better Off Not Looking Back
October 7, 2017

Sometimes you’re better off not looking back.
The past has passed, and it should stay that way.
Looking back isn’t worth the heart attack.

Something I once loved is now out of whack
Compared to how it was back in the day.
Sometimes you’re better off not looking back.

In fact, it’s long been that way, even back
When I chanced to revisit it one day.
Looking back isn’t worth the heart attack.

The passion’s gone, for folks have naught but flack
For that which they still watch to this damn day.
Sometimes you’re better off not looking back.

Watching just to hate? That just sounds wrong, jack.
Lest you’ve hope, why give them the time of day?
Looking back isn’t worth the heart attack.

All that said, guess what: I’m moving on, mack,
Lest what I’d loved improves in a big way.
Sometimes you’re better off not looking back.
Looking back isn’t worth the heart attack.

*****

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

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

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: 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

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

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
                         Amazon.com
                         Amazon.co.uk

Poem of the Week: A Somewhat Poetic Rant about 21st Century Brats who Find Humor in Others’ Pain and Suffering

A Somewhat Poetic Rant about 21st Century Brats who Find Humor in Others’ Pain and Suffering
April 3, 2017

For too long I’ve been angry. For too long I’ve learned to hate
The people in this messed-up world as they further degenerate
Into immature, spiteful narcissists all wrapped up in themselves,
Mocking others’ misfortune while wallowing in their self-made hell,
Peeved over often petty things, unable to adjust
To a world that’s always changing, whether for benefit or bust,
Concerned with material crap, not giving a single damn
About any altruistic virtue, and outraged I still am,
For I’ve been taught since I was born to show consideration
Towards those other than myself, no matter the situation.
Sadly, many have proven themselves inconsiderate
Of those less fortunate than they are, which throws me into a fit
And makes me want to lock these fools all together in a cell
A thousand leagues beneath Earth’s crust, hoping they suffer hell
Away from all their precious toys and other material gains,
Having none but each other with whom to cope as they drive each other insane
With the same childish, disrespectful behavior for which they’re known,
And should they turn on each other and cut each other to the bone,
Leaving a mass of corpses soaking in their own blood and waste,
I’d show no surprise when even their families show no haste
In mourning their losses, for honestly, why the hell should they?
These heartless, selfish bastards and bitches should all be made to pay
For ridiculing the beleaguered and the situation
That put them in their place without thought or consideration.
After all, would it have killed these twits to have opened their eyes
And put themselves in the others’ shoes and come to realize
The pain with which they’ve had to cope from Day One up to now?
It seems so, judging from their careless words, though I don’t know how
These brats find humor in others’ pain on account of tragedy.
Alas, such is the case of certain kids these days, apparently,
Only caring ‘bout the here and now, no matter the weather,
Not giving a rat’s ass ‘bout trying to change anything for the better—
Not even for themselves, which I find to be irony.
Well, fine, then! So be it. Redefine the term “tragedy”
So that when you take the world over from us, it’ll just all the more
Suffer from whatever stupidity you have in store
For it and whatever denizens it may still have by then
Who’ll only be wishing all the more to traverse to Way Back When,
When life was simpler and stupid brats weren’t so blatantly PI
Smearing their heartless “humor” all over to reach all ears and eyes.
Keep dreaming, though, all you little creeps, for your day to come,
For we grownups still have a chance to save Earth from becoming dumb
As in dumber than it already is, no thanks to twerps like you,
And we’ll work hard to put it back together and see it through.
Who knows? Maybe a new golden will happen to rise
In which morals as corrupt and ass-backwards as yours are cut down to size
And the just can live in peace and harmony ‘til the sun burns out.
Until then, enjoy your says in the sunshine, you infantile little clouts,
For rudeness and disrespect can only take you so far in life
‘Til they finally catch up with you, and soon the pain and strife
Of growing up will at last sink in one way or another
And you’re forced to adapt or perish in the name of your divine mother.

*****

Author Pages: Smashwords.com
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