Poem of the Week: Politics in 2010s Storytelling Media

Politics in 2010s Storytelling Media
May 27, 2018

Politics in media…what a joke!
All I want is to see a good story,
Yet the tale at hand just goes up in smoke
When agendas suck up all the glory
Like sponges do water, leaving things dry
Like a stinking desert in summertime.
Even if I agree with what is cried,
Such a message still perpetrates a crime
When it kills a tale’s momentum tenfold
To force-feed us an ideology
That the creator just happens to hold,
No dif if it gels with what else we see.
Tell stories or preach. Pick one and commit,
For I for one have had enough of it

*****

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

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Poem of the Week: A Lesson in Entertainment Support We All Should’ve Learned Decades Ago

A Lesson in Entertainment Support We All Should’ve Learned Decades Ago
September 4, 2018

When the world you used to love no longer gives what you want
And instead feeds you nonsense and trash for cash you refuse to flaunt
And you are in no position to see that which you can make grow,
There’s sadly but one thing you can do to spare yourself the woe:

Keep your money in your wallet and save it for something else,
For the entertainment world can’t afford to entertain itself,
For without the masses’ money to fuel the endeavors it undertakes,
It’ll collapse into ruins, lest it’s our advice it elects to take.

The makers, after all, have but themselves to blame for the efforts they’ve wasted
On the turd-poor products they’ve made and the bitterness we’ve tasted,
No thanks to the egregious errors they’ve made time and again
Left, right, and center dating back to whoever knows when.

Creating brand new movies that they barely, if at all, promote,
Then being surprised that they’ve earned little to no cash in their tote;
Relying on decades-old franchises to help them out of their rut,
Only to script their next installment sloppily…Oy! What a blow to the gut.

Adapting horrible best-sellers into films not worth a damn
No thanks to awkward dialogue delivered by sleepwalking hams
To convey a braindead story that’s beloved for some messed-up reason…
Then again, not even good books are always translated any given season

Into great pictures. Otherwise, Rick Riordan’s Royalty checks—
And Madeleine L’Engle’s, too—would be coming in week after next,
And no, all the films like Wonder and A Monster Calls can’t make up
For the weaker films’ shortcomings and effects, so folks, wake up!

I don’t care, either, for the deconstruction of time-honored heroes
Making them look weak, dumb, and immature and thus like utter zeroes.
They were inspirations back in the day, built from the ground up,
But these new creators just had to come around and screw them up.

Also, why can’t men and women be represented equally?
Why must one be watered and dumbed down for audiences to see
The potential that lies within the other? Tell me how that’s fair
To put one upon a pedestal while the other wallows in despair.

Finally, subverting expectations…what’s the point of that?
To prevent predictability from making a story splat
Across the ground like it fell sans helmet from way up on high
At the expense of logic? Yeah…not for me, gals and guys.

I want stories that make sense and to which I can relate,
Not surprise me out of nowhere with their senseless twists of fate.
I want logical progression from the start to the very end
For plot and characters alike. What about you, friends?

I’m not shocked at all at folks’ protests when makers give them any less,
For when a product comes out on the market, folks expect the best.
Worse yet is when makers dare flame the unimpressed and spew venom their way,
Eventually killing what respect they had left and thus losing that way

The reputation they once had all because of the mighty flops
They dared distribute in the first place and the ego they failed to drop.
We’re sick of sub-par media, though. One’d think they’d learn that well
And would turn their precious industry ‘round ‘fore it ends up burning in Hell.

Such is what Hollywood must learn on top of at last letting new
Faces rise to the top in hopes of starting their industry anew,
For the tired old guard won’t change soon, lest we work to force them out,
So take your cue, folks, and cast your shame aside as you stand to shout.

We have the money and thus the power to make media right,
And only by supporting the good stuff will we all bring the light
To an industry that’s long needed it for years upon years at this rate,
And once we do, we’ll at last kill off at least most of that which we hate.

*****

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

Poem of the Week: Rambling Poem about Originality Allegedly Being Dead

Rambling Poem about Originality Allegedly Being Dead
July 26, 2018

Is originality really dead, or did we just stop trying?
‘Cause it always seems there’s a reboot or another that leaves folks crying,
And even the new stuff that comes out we’ve somehow seen before,
And even the adaptations of other media has naught in store
When it comes to telling stories to audiences young and old,
Thus leaving us deliberately telling others what we’ve been told
When we were young, which in turn robs them of their identity
In that they’ve nothing to call their own while folks like you and me
Can reminisce o’er the “good ol’ days,” even when they weren’t that great.
Then again, at least we have something over which we can debate
While the youngsters are left to gush o’er that which they’re told is “new”
‘Til the day comes when they realize that the product doesn’t hold true
And the flaws at last become apparent in their grown-up sight,
Especially when compared to the original source day or night—
Namely the lack of spirit that the original once had
That gave it the spark it needed to thrive through times good and bad,
And if only said spirit can live on in what we create today,
We wouldn’t be sitting ‘round grumbling and mumbling all blessed day
‘Bout the past we knew and the tales we shared back before life turned bleak—
All the more reason for me to believe that maybe that which we seek
Is simple creative spirit—nothing more and nothing less
Than pure mental energy guided by the will to put out the best
Material one possibly can, whether it tells what we’ve been told
Or something new we haven’t seen yet that’s actually fresh and bold.
In short, maybe what we need to do is just start up from the ground
And write our stories organically in hopes that they look and sound
Remarkable enough to stand the test of time just like
The tales of yore we knew and loved when they first came down the pike.
After all, just how do you think such tales came to be
To entertain and educate the likes of you and me?
Maybe we should all take the hint, then, and try to start anew
In the hopes of forging that which we’ve been seeking: something new,
Even if it somehow happens to be old at the same time.
Either way, so long as the quality of the tale proves sublime
And every set piece works, that’s enough to make me smile
And satisfy my imagination at least for a little while.
Perhaps, then, something original will indeed one day come at last
And save us from this hole we’ve dug ourselves in, daughters and sons,
For only in learning from our past will our future be bright.
At any rate, ladies and gents, we can’t afford to give up this fight.

*****

Author Pages: Smashwords.com
                         Amazon.com
                         Amazon.co.uk
Twitter: @DustinMWeber18

Poem of the Week: Boob Tube Poem 2018

Boob Tube Poem 2018
July 1, 2018

I saw a show once that was so bad that it made me want to cry.
The acting was so forced that it made a part of me inside die.
The writing, furthermore, was stilted from scene to bloody scene
From dialogue to characters’ acts, and it made me want to scream.
The camerawork was trash, too, as it missed important spots,
And the editing was over-the-top and nearly caused my brain to rot.
What could I do, then, other than tune out from this disgraceful tripe
And change the channel to something else about which I couldn’t gripe—
Something I could sink my teeth into and enjoy honestly
Without insulting my intellect or bringing me to insanity?
After all, with multiple channels to watch at the press of a button,
What excuse to I or anyone else have to be a punishment glutton?
That’s with regular TV alone, never mind cable or satellite
Or digital TV or streaming services to further make things right.
Of course, I can always turn off the ol’ boob tube if I choose
Rather than sit still and let myself cave in to the need for booze
To bleach my brain of the mental stains that the garbage on my screen
Is bound to leave, lest I do something in the first place to keep it clean
And go do something worthier of my time and hopefully hone my skills
In my quest to, in one way or another, squash society’s ills
Like write a poem or book or even a post on an SM account—
Anything to make a name for myself and make my message count
And help change the way society thinks of media these days
From TV and film to music and books, for someone must pave the way
For quality storytelling just like the world’s Jerry Springers
Have paved the way for smut and thus run media through a wringer,
And if no one else will take a stand, then by all means, I will
And do al I can to save the world from the careless, mindless swill
It’s been drowning in for decades, so look out, everyone,
As I screw in my heels and get to work sending trash on the run
And do my part to cease the cycle the business has been in.
Enough is enough of the lowbrow stuff! Time to purge all this sin!

*****

Author Pages: Smashwords.com
                         Amazon.com
                         Amazon.co.uk
Twitter: @DustinMWeber18

Poem of the Week: Message from a Boycotter

Message from a Boycotter
January 2, 2018

The more things change, the more they stay the same—
So much, in fact, that oftentimes, they drive me insane,
Like dwelling on the past and exploiting it for all its worth
For the selfish sake of filling one’s face and further gaining girth.
It’s already 2018, after all, and still some think
That milking yesteryear’s tragedies doesn’t at all stink,
Even though doing so has proven time and again to fail
To the point where those who’ve failed no longer bother to sail
The ever-so turbulent mainstream for years at a time,
And yet, others dare to dream that they can cross the brine
With the same disastrous vessels that the failures have failed to float,
And if that’s the case with you, then go ahead, you clueless goat!
Go ahead and set sail for ruin, you greedy sack of trash.
Let’s see how you hold together. I bet you’ll outright crash.
What makes you think you’re better than those who’ve preceded you,
Especially since you’ve clearly not learned from what they’ve been through—
The mistakes they’ve made, the toes they’ve trod upon, and so on?
Just like them, I predict, you’ll end up just like them: gone…
Gone from just this one last step of yours in your career,
And for it to end so suddenly is something others would fear,
Even after it has lasted as long as yours has
And being so illustrious, too…and all ‘because you just had
To bring it upon yourself to drill up the crippling past once more.
Oh, if only you had a clue of the ridicule in store
For you and everyone under you working on this project—
Ridicule that you deserve, though, for nine sane respect
Anyone and weak and ignorant or too lazy to think
Of anything new to show the masses that doesn’t stink.
That having been said, go ahead and embarrass yourself,
For when your work months later hits the clearance shelves
Of Wal-Marts nationwide, don’t you dare come crying to me,
Especially if, on the Internet, you chance to hear and see
Multiple negative reviews of your precious pride and joy
And rants on how you should retire once and for all, my boy.
America’s trying to move forward and leave the past in the past.
This constant fixation on it one way or another can’t last.
Remembrance is one thing, but obsession is another,
And people like you need to back off peddling the latter, brother.
Start treating us folks with dignity. Stop treating us like sheep.
Learn to respect us once and for all if you plan to keep
Your place in the entertainment world, for we’ve finally caught on—
Or at last we at last shall–to what you’re doing wrong,
And then where will you be once you’ve sacrificed your throne?
Hopefully out on the streets, forgotten and alone
With nobody to look after you or pad your pan with coin
When we used to feed you dollars by the dozen from a skinned cow’s loin.
At any cost your glory will finally bite the dust,
And fresh faces will take your place upon rising from the rust
That’s been rotting the iron infrastructure of the world,
And good media will once again be available to boys and girls.
It’s your call, Mr. Producer: Paradise or purgatory?
Do you want to retain your prestige or sacrifice your glory
In the name of speaking freely ‘bout what most don’t want to hear?
It’s the future of your reign, sir. Is all I’ve said clear?

*****

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: 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