Poem of the Week: Another Day for Writer’s Block

Another Day for Writer’s Block
October 10, 2017

Another day, week, month, year…
Another year flushed, I fear.
What am I doing?
Why am I screwing
Myself out of what I hold dear?

So many years put to waste
All ‘cause I failed to make haste
In following my dreams.
Now here I scream
As my brain melts into a paste.

It certainly helps me not,
For nary a rhyme I’ve got
For this rant of mine
At this very time.
Oy vey! What a time for brain rot!

Only mid-aged, and already I
Can feel my brain cells die.
What a drag and a joke
To be mentally broke
At this moment ‘neath Heaven’s blue sky.

Then again, that’s why I write.
It’s how I carry on my own fight
Against mental decay
During these dark days
When we’re all searching for the light.

I’ve always loved to create.
That’s one thing not up for debate.
Be it fiction or prose,
Writing cures my woes
In this world of despair and hate.

Writing gives me a holiday
From the crap of this age and day.
It gives me an escape
From the fools, creeps, and flakes
And all the crap they do and say.

When I write, I’m in control,
Creating characters with soul
To which one can relate
And appreciate
In my story throughout its whole.

It’s the thing I’ve got control of,
Hence why it’s the one thing I love,
And one can’t take away
How it makes my day
And fits like a custom-made glove.

Such is why others like to write,
For writing shows us the light
And allows us to be
All that we can be
And in turn make their cases right.

Such is what writing for us brings,
And I hope to make it the thing
One of these days
In one or another way
For me so tat I can sing

Happily ever after,
My voice ringing through the rafters,
Not only to claim
Fortune and fame,
But something else that I’m after:

The honor of leaving a mark
And a chance to lead folks from the dark
And into the light
To make things right.
That’s the prize for which this dog barks.

Alas, though, it comes without shock
That even I face writer’s block.
It’s a pain to work through,
I’m telling you,
But it’s a case I can’t help but mock,

For the one thing want most of all
Has led me smack into a wall.
I don’t mean to complain,
Either, ‘bout this pain,
For I know I must work through it all,

And work through it I shall,
For I ‘lone hold myself back, pal,
‘Til I fire myself up.
Then, all will know “what’s up,”
And prove my true worth I shall,

Be it one way or another.
There’ll be no stopping me, brother,
Once I get back on track
And clean up my act.
Once I do, I’ll take off like no other.

Just you wait and see there, jack,
For while you may see me as a hack,
I’ll get back on my feet
And scoff at defeat
For daring to give me and slack,

And my detractors, for their flack,
Will, too, understand I’m not whack
No matter how bizarre
My works to them are,
And their respect I’ll have, too, mack.

‘Tl then, here I am, brain in head
Rotting ‘way ‘til I end up dead,
‘Lest I get my rear
Finally in gear
And at last pout this block to bed,

For I alone hold the key
To seek what’s in store for me,
And once I start,
I know I’ll be a part
Of the system. Just you wait and see.

*****

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: Frustration of an Undiscovered Author

Frustration of an Undiscovered Author
September 26, 2017

Month after wasted month, year after wasted year,
I reach my hands up high for something more,
Yet no matter how far I reach, nothing ever comes near,
And I wonder if anything really is in store,

So I try hopping up and down, bounding higher with each jump,
Flailing my arms frantically all the while,
Yet no matter how feverishly my furious fists I pump,
I always fall back down in a frustrated pile.

I even cry out to the heavens, hoping someone will hear
That I’m alive and around and worth the time,
Yet all my screaming and shouting only brings me to tears
As I likewise lose this desperate voice of mine,

And once again, I’m left all alone, just as I was before,
Asking why no one sees any worth in me.
Why am I so unwanted? Why’s dealing with me such a chore?
I’m actually worth something, dammit! Can’t you see?

I’m not some braindead peasant. I’m not some clueless schmuck.
I’m more worth investing in than you think,
But ho! You keep you blowing me off and wishing me “Best of luck!”
Not telling me directly why I stink.

It’s either that, or it’s one excuse or another that I’ve already
Heard before from others just like you.
Sooner or later, though, you know one day, you’ll need to be ready
To take on somebody promising, fresh, and new,

Unless those whom you serve already are somehow immortal
Beyond their work, but I doubt that’s the case,
So come on already! Stop casting me away from your portal
As if I’m some kind of talentless disgrace.

Anyone can pick me up, after all, and make something of me
In the instance you refuse to do so, friend,
And when they do and my name becomes immortalized, you’ll see
That success for you had always been ‘round the bend.

Better things have happened for blatant schlock that’s polluted the mainstream,
Bob-bob-bobbing in it like buoyant turds,
And even if I don’t become a legend once I fulfilled my dream,
At least I’ll at last chance to be seen and heard,

And who knows? People just might like me. Wouldn’t that be a treat
After all these years I’ve spent trying to break free?
I’ll finally start a brand new life, too, living on Easy Street
Rather than carrying on through that which’s fallen on me.

All I need is someone on my side to see I’ve got what it takes
To at long last make my dream a reality,
For apparently, I’m forbidden to do so on my own, for Heaven’s sake,
But will somebody help me? I guess we’ll see.

I’ll just keep on doing what I’ve been doing this whole bloody while,
Albeit with a new approach to my crusade
In hopes that someone will hear me and greet me with a smile
And see to my success finally being made.

I’ll show you, then, that I am worth something and prove you the fool,
And the last laugh will be mine at your baseless doubts,
And I’ll throw your “Best of lucks” back at you as you wallow in a pool
Of shame towards the flippancy you used to spout.

Better days are around the corner. They just have to be.
Things can’t get that much worse from this point on.
I just have to keep trying, though, if success I want to see
And all my naysayers I want to prove wrong.

***** 

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: Nostalgia

Nostalgia
September 10, 2017

Nostalgia
Sweet poison
Remembering, reminiscing, reveling
Yesterday wasn’t always golden
Misleading, misinforming, misdirecting
Everlasting paradox
Stagnance

*****

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

Poem of the Week: Autumn’s Here!

Autumn’s Here!
September 9, 2017

Sound the bells, my friend.
Summer’s come to an end.
Autumn’s here,
And time is near
To see what’s ‘round the bend.

A new year of school’s begun
For learners both old and young.
So much they’ve to learn.
Hopefully, they shan’t burn
Out ‘fore the school year’s done.

A new season’s begun for TV
With so many programs to see
With brand new seasons
For this or that reason
As well as shows yet to be.

So many new sights to see, too,
At festivals and markets near you
That not summer nor spring
Could hope to bring,
But when Autumn falls…sacrebleu!

Pumpkins, gourds, squashes…oh, my!
So many treats for the eye
In addition to leaves
Drifting down as they please,
Lest the wind blows them ‘cross the sky.

Let’s not forget, either, the food
To put our taste buds in the mood:
Apples, cinnamon, spice,
Carmel corn—it’s all nice,
For as I eat it, how can I brood?

Thing is, too, in a matter of weeks,
The one day meant for spirits and freaks
And monsters of all kinds
Is bound to unwind
As Halloween time once more peeks

‘Round the bend to greet us with a “Boo!”
And sends us searching for new
Costumes to wear
And treats to bear
To make youngsters go “Ah!” and “Ooh!”

A month or so later, Thanksgiving:
A true celebration of living—
Parades, football, feasts,
And not to say the least,
Family there to share in the giving.

So many are autumn’s joys
For all men, women, girls, and boys,
Should they but slow down
And travel ‘round town
To drink them all in and enjoy.

Alas, though, so wrapped up are most
Folks who claim to not boast
Any time to partake
In these things in the wake
Of the season ‘fore it becomes a ghost.

It really is a shame,
For according to the season’s game,
Autumn comes once a year
For but three months, dear,
‘Fore it fades away again. How lame!

Well, I sure know for a fact
That when autumn comes, I don’t slack
In taking in its gifts
In hopes that they lift
Me out of my mood when it’s black,

For if annual it must be,
Then why cheat myself of such beauty?
I could never forgive
Myself, should I live
To deny such a gift to me,

Which is why each year during this time,
I pause to take in the sublime
And escape from my hive
And thank God I’m alive,
Even if it’s but for a short time.

Such is how I feel when autumn comes
‘Til my eyes, ears, and tongue go numb.
It’s an annual thing,
So let the good times ring
‘Til the season’s at long last done.

P.S.: The pic used above comes courtesy of CanadianMusicHallofFame.ca. The attached poem, however, is the author’s own.

*****

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

Poem of the Week: Purity and Innocence

Purity and Innocence
August 29, 2017

One minute you’re as giddy as any child can be,
Enjoying life as you wonder ‘bout what kind of future you’d see.
Next minute, you’re all grown up in a dead-end state of mind,
Looking back and shaking your head at the childhood you’d left behind.

“Where did it all go?” you ask. “What happened to those days?
What happened to that world I once knew and its simpler, gentler ways?”
All the while, the bills keep piling up, as do the demands
Of maintaining a home, life, and family as time slips through your hands

At an ever-increasing pace that never seems to let up,
Which brings you to sigh in disgust , wondering when enough’s enough
And if you’ll ever find the balance you’ve for long so desired
Before your soul floats up to Heaven’s gates or burns in Hell’s fires.

Such is what we all cope with in one way or another,
Only to be reminded that yesterday wasn’t always golden, brother
Or sister, and to have some jackass remind us of all the crap
That made the “good ol’ days” not so great to where we just want to nap

Away the headache we’ve gotten so as to better deal with today,
Asking ourselves how the present could be better in anyway,
For too deep are we in our mindsets of doom and gloom to see
Just how beautiful the present from another perspective can be.

Try looking for the good in things for once on your radio or TV
And stick around for your escape from the harsh reality.
Head to your local bookstore and look for a new book to read—
Preferably one not meant to fuel an overhyped hack author’s greed.

Head to your local park and take a walk on a nature trail.
Trek to your local farmer’s market and see what might be for sale.
Anywhere where simple, wholesome stuff is should be place enough
To prove that not all’s been corrupted by the present’s tacky stuff.

Step away from your iPhones and your tablets for a sec
To take in the scenery around you and realize that, “Heck!
There is something ‘bout this world for which I can hold some wonder.
I needn’t always concern myself with some public figure’s blunder

Or any of the ills around me that keep happening day after day.
Yes, they exist, but need I fixate solely on them? No way!
Not when simplicity and innocence still exist in this stretch of the world.”
Then, once you come to that realization, a new perspective unfurls,

And you come to understand that no matter how ugly things get,
The world still has some purity—no matter how little—yet
To serve as an escape for when things get a little too much,
Be it too crass, hostile, superficial, demanding, and such.

Such is a blessing, for as we know, sadly, yesterday’s gone,
And while it surely hurts to know that, we all must say so long
To what we once knew, let’s not forget to honor what we’ve got
Before the day comes when we leave this earth to the computers and robots.

The “good ol’ days” may be gone, yet not forgotten, but that doesn’t mean
We can’t make the most from what we have left in the face of the obscene,
So do what you can to take a break from that which you’ve come to revile
And stop to smell the roses, so to speak, every once in a while.

*****

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

Poem of the Week: Fitting In

Fitting In
August 21, 2017

Sometimes you don’t fit in, no matter how hard you try.
You think you have what it takes, which explains you not knowing why
You can’t get along with others, whose league you think you’re in,
But always remember that being different isn’t a mortal sin.

As a matter of fact, some people, no matter how good they may seem,
Are far bigger creeps than you realize, thus making it a pipe dream
For you to ever fit in with them, but then, you’re better off,
For if you knew what kind of people you’d be dealing with, you’d scoff.

People can be such bastards, all slathered in their own stink
That when it comes to others, they never bother to think,
But instead act all rude and patronizing, treating even “friends” like scum
On account of being “lower” than they are when they’re the ones being dumb.

Folks’ morals and values can be warped far more than you realize,
And should you discover that firsthand, how ugly they’d be in your eyes.
Too many folks sit on their fat asses expecting success to come
On a platinum platter, not caring that the best doesn’t come to lazy bums.

Some people don’t take things seriously and treat too much like a joke
‘Til the other shoe drops and things for them at last go up in smoke.
Some people have nasty tempters and will chew you up in a beat,
Should you cross them one way or another at work or out in the street.

Some folks will act one way one minute, only to turn around
And act completely different the next moment they’ve been found,
Not giving a damn how their treachery hurts any in their wake,
Especially if they thrive somehow off being so bloody fake.

Some even only make friends with those whom they can manipulate
And make them do something they wouldn’t do normally, yet come to hate
In the end one way or another while the creeps themselves
Sit finely by and laugh at their expense like nothing else.

So many are the scumbags out there, and still so many try
To fit in with them whilst not stopping themselves to ask why
They’re so desperate for friendship when what matters in the end
Is staying true to oneself, for upon one’s self one can depend,

And really, is it worth it turning your back on the lessons you’ve learned
Throughout your life for the sake of fake friends who’d rather see you burn
And become that which you’re not, only to make them feel big?
Honestly, why would anyone do that to themselves for such pigs?

Trust me. Being a decent human being needs not fitting in,
Lest you’re talking ‘bout your special niche. Otherwise, it’s no sin
To be different from others, especially those who aren’t worth your time,
So keep your chin up and stay true to yourself, pupil of mine.

*****

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: 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