Poem of the Week: The Flighty Ones

The Flighty Ones
May 6, 2017

Swiftly, swiftly to you they fly
To feed off that which you give
‘Til you’ve got no more,
Then off you soar
To the next leaky sieve.

‘Tis an empty, shallow life they live,
Gliding from shore to shore,
Feeding off crumbs
From city to slum
‘Til there simply is no more,

Thinking there’s greater stuff in store
Than what you’ve given them, chum.
Don’t ask me why
That is, for I
Am not as gluttinous or dumb,

But forget those selfish, impatient bums!
They mean naught to you or I.
Let ‘em live how they live.
You’ve still plenty to give
Those who’ll give you an honest try.


Author Pages: Smashwords.com

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

Poem of the Week: A Brand New Trade (The Exhausted Job Hunter Poem)

A Brand New Trade (The Exhausted Job Hunter Poem)
September 12, 2016

All I want is to try my hand
At a brand new trade
Following the end
Of my last job, friend,
Hoping to have it made.

Alas, the people in charge have made
Error ‘pon error to the end,
Making me run through loops
And jump through hoops
As I wonder what’s ‘round the bend.

Do I finally get new work in the end,
Or tis this all one bug “Oops?”
‘Cause I’m starting to fret
About what I’ve yet
To do to join this group.

I hope there’s no low to which I must stoop
In order to secure this bet,
‘Cause I’d really hate
To lose out on a great
Chance to grow as a person yet.

I’m crossing my fingers, trying not to fret
And hoping things will turn out great
And that Fate’s fickle hand
Will understand
And places something good on my slate.

If the results, though, I come to hate,
Then it’s back to pounding the land.
Then elsewhere, there’ll be made
Hist’ry where I’ll be paid
By someone who truly understands.


Author Pages: Smashwords.com

Poem of the Week: Another Random Poem about Letting Go

Another Random Poem about Letting Go
April 4, 2016

Letting go ain’t always easy
When it comes to that which you love,
But it’s a painful thing
When the same thing
Doesn’t love you back, love.

It may have fit you like a hand in a glove
And made you want to sing
Once upon a time,
But as sublime
As it was, it soon starts to sting,

For things don’t always stay the same thing
And are apt to change over time,
Be it blessing or curse,
For better or for worse,
And it often feels like a crime.

I know, for many interests of mine
Have turned out for the worst—
Over here a change,
There a rearrange
‘Til my lips I’m forced to purse,

And I’m left to deal somehow with this curse.
How do I cope with this change?
Do I stick around
And let things get me down
And cope with what’s been rearranged,

Or do I move on to a whole new range
And see what else might be around
In which to invest time
And, in turn, make mine
To bring my anxiety down?

There must be something I can do to put down
This raging bitterness of mine
That’s carving a hole
Into my soul
And driving me out of my mind.

There must be some way to leave behind
This drama that’s taken its toll
On this life I know,
For jaded I now grow
As I carry on growing old.

Alas, in terms of purging my soul,
I’ve found nowhere to go,
And I aimlessly wander
Here and yonder
Looking for what, I don’t know.

If I find it, however, I’ll know,
And no more will I need to ponder.
I’ll stop feeling queasy,
And things’ll be easy
For me at last somewhere yonder.


Author Pages: Smashwords.com

Bonus Poem of the Week: Autopilot

July 2, 2015

You breathe and bleed like other folks.
You eat and sleep as well,
But inside your head,
You’re damn near dead—
A special kind of hell.

If your brain’s working, you can’t tell,
And yet, it’s heavy like lead
With a constant drone
Like an ever-ringing phone
With the information it’s been fed.

You can barely remember that which has been said,
Even words that were your own.
You mess tasks up as well
Where others fare well
‘Cause the humming won’t leave you alone.

Thankfully, there’s a way to once again own
Your mind from this sick joke:
Slow down and think well
In spite of the swell
Before your brain goes up in smoke.


Author Pages: Smashwords.com



Poem of the Week: Rant against Nostalgic Media

Rant against Nostalgic Media
June 9, 2015

Stop feeding me yesterday!
I’m done living in the past.
What’s done is done
And no longer fun,
So leave it all in the past.

I want new memories to last
From now ‘til my life’s done,
So out with the old!
Dare to be bold,
For a new era’s begun.

Let’s hear some new songs be sung
And some new stories be told.
There must be a way
To bring in a new day
‘Fore our souls be all bought and sold.

The stories of old just bear too much mold
To feed our children today.
Leave them thus in the past!
They need new stuff to last
And call their own during these days.


Author Pages: Smashwords.com



Poem of the Week: Tragic Love Poem X

Tragic Love Poem X
May 12, 2015

I was in love once upon a time.
However, I’m not anymore.
It’s hard to explain,
But I still feel the pain,
So here, let me settle the score.

My love I once thought had a good core—
So sweet and simple, like rain—
‘Til I realized how dumb
One day she’d become,
And I never felt the same again.

She’d follow the crowd time and again,
Heading with them to whatever slum
They’d choose to spend time
At, wallowing in grime
And doing what they’d do ‘mongst the scum.

Then came the day when her body grew numb
As she sniffed too much at one time.
Now she’s dead like a door,
Buried six feet or more
In the ground ‘neath the soot and lime.


Author Pages: Smashwords.com



Poem of the Week: Another Poem about a Writer Trying to Get His/Her Act Together

Another Poem about a Writer Trying to Get His/Her Act Together
September 26, 2014

Things should’ve been off and running by now,
But yet I’m so far behind.
I can hear critics scoff
At my slacking off,
Too, as I’m wracking my mind

To figure out how to be less behind
And once and for all send off
This tedious thing
‘Pon which I’ve been working
Before more detractors scoff

And ask me just where the hell I get off
Even trying to heed the calling
When what I’ve got now
Hasn’t earned me a cow
To milk, much less right to sing

That I’m one who’s contributing
To the literary world now,
And with that in mind,
It’s back to the grind
To finish my work…and how!


Author Pages: Smashwords.com



Poem of the Week: Younger Days

Younger Days
March 12, 2014

We all wish for younger days
When time was on our side
Before all we knew
Flew into the blue
Or simply freaking died.

Sadly, we all grow up, Clyde,
And even good times can be through,
Forcing us to stay strong
As time carries on
And makes us move forward, too,

And we can’t afford to let what we knew
During those days now long gone
Hinder our ways
During these troubled days,
So we must force ourselves to move on.

All the same, there’s nothing at all wrong
In remembering one’s younger days.
Just be sure that you’re wise
And can set them aside
And stay focused on today.


Author Pages: Smashwords.com



Poem of the Week: Breaking Point

Happy Valentine’s Day, readers!

For those of you looking for a love poem this week to celebrate the upcoming holiday, my apologies, for this week, I have something else on hand: a Roundabout poem about a certain time in our lives that we all experienced when we feel our backs are up against the wall and we just can’t take it anymore. No matter who or what it is that’s pushing us to the brink, we all owe it to ourselves to stay strong and not submit when we reach our Breaking Point. That being said, please enjoy the following poem.


Breaking Point
February 8, 2014

Each of us has a breaking point
Where we just can’t take anymore—
Where we throw up our hands
And take a stand
Against those who make life a chore.

Elitists, con artists, and thugs galore—
So many scumbags we can’t stand
Who’ll make us throw fits,
Lest we keep our wits,
Which are always in demand,

And when that one moment comes close at hand
When we’re standing at the edge of the pit,
Will we skip the whole joint
Or end up smoking joints
From the fall when our heads get split?

We can’t let our sanity drip through our mitts.
‘Tis crucial that we stay on point,
Else there shall be more
Problems in store,
Should we succumb at our breaking point.

"I will NOT! BE! OUT! SHINED!" --WWE Superstar Dolph Ziggler from January 31, 2014 (WWE Smackdown)

“I will NOT! BE! OUT! SHINED!”
–WWE Superstar Dolph Ziggler on WWE Smackdown,  January 31, 2014


And so closes another “Poem of the Week.” Thank you all for stopping by and catching up with me this week, and before I close off, I’d like to read your feedback on my poetry. Any input on the following would be much appreciated.

  1. What other kind of topics would you like to see me cover in my poetry?
  2. Are there any specific types of poetry you’d like to see on this blog that I haven’t already presented (Katauta, Tanka, Monorhyme, etc.)?
  3. Do my usual introductions to each poem add anything to the poetry I present, or would you rather I just get rid of them altogether and just let you all enjoy the poems themselves?

If you have an answer to any of the above three questions or if you just have any feedback for my poetry in general, please don’t hesitate to leave it in a comment below. Otherwise, thanks again for your time, and happy reading!

Dustin M. Weber


Author Pages: Smashwords.com



PS: All credit for the photograph used in this blog entry go to the following source:

Dolph Ziggler WWE Smackdown January 31, 2014: WWE Dolph Ziggler Delivers A Massive Pipebomb/Rant On WWE APP by paul54734

The poem itself, however, is my own.