Archive | August, 2011

Weak Stick

31 Aug

Weak Stick

A lot of traits do come to mind
When I see smokers pull
A cigarette out from a box
And take a deep breath full

Of chemicals, carcinogens
And nicotine and tar
Here’s the picture that they paint
When sucking that cigar

I see a lazy person who
Wants to feel better fast
I see an futile person who
Can’t learn that it won’t last

I see a selfish person who
Pollutes the air we breathe
I see a full grown baby who
Still has the need to teethe

I see a foolish person who
Keeps wasting all their dough
To paint their lungs a darker shade
And make the tumor grow

I see a weak person who doesn’t
See the strength inside
I see a coward who searches
For close places to hide

I see a corpse that’s wasting time
And money and the love
Of all their friends and family
And maybe God above

I see an ingrate piss away
Their health when there’s so many
Who’d give the world to have it back
‘Cause they do not have any

I see a slave with no courage
To break free from their chains
A wimp who can’t withstand withdrawal
Who can’t endure the pains

A spoiled rotten little brat
Who thinks life’s all about
Comfort, pleasure, luxury
Taking the easy route

I challenge every smoker to
Accomplish this one feat
Next time that you get a craving
Before you light that treat

Throw it on the ground and crush
That weak stick with your heel
And throw the rest down there as well
And give them the same deal

Don’t cry about how much they cost
You’ve burned a lot before
Makes no difference if they’re in
Your lungs or on the floor

Crush those weak sticks and then wait
For those shakes to begin
Instead of looking for a fix
Focus and look within

Concentrate and clear your mind
And take it like the rest
Don’t tremble and cry for help
Stand up and beat your chest!

Growl, show some backbone and
Control your weakened mind
Stop being so aloof and
To your own strength so blind

Weaker ones than you have quit
And they put you to shame
Every time you feel the sudden
Urge to light that flame

Lazy, futile, selfish, baby
Foolish, weak and coward
One step closer to a corpse
With every stick devoured

Ingrate, slave, a wimp and spoiled
Rotten little brat
Who doesn’t realize where the
True calming force is at

And sensitive because they never
Want to hear that they
Are doing anything wrong, but
They don’t use that ash tray

Take a look at your sidewalk
Next time you take a stroll
Count the cigarette butts that
You see on your patrol

Then say smokers aren’t lazy
Aloof and big ingrates
Foolish, weak and cowardly
And all these other traits

“But hey, I smoke and I always
Put my butt in the trash!”
Good for you, now go collect
All of your drifting ash

                                 Miro

Imperfecto’s Vault

30 Aug

Imperfecto’s Vault

There was a guy named “Imperfecto”
Who got the job done and kept going
His vault was empty because
He wasn’t afraid of flaws showing

The end

Perfecto’s Vault

30 Aug

Perfecto’s Vault

There once was an artist whose name
Reflected the work that he did
“Perfecto” was his name because
Imperfection is what he forbid

He worked as an artist and sculptor
Musician and filmmaker too
A writer, a poet, a dancer
Creative he was, through and through

But the problem was that young Perfecto
Just never could get things quite right
He wanted them perfect, and so
He worked on them all day and night

But Perfecto could never get works
To ever be without some flaws
“It has to be perfect to gain
The audience’s big applause!”

And so he kept tweaking and tweaking
But never could get it perfect
“It has to be just how I want it!
This artwork of me does reflect!”

And after way too much fine-tuning
Of it he eventually got sick
And so rather than unveil and let
A few of his viewers nitpick

He took it way down to his basement
And threw it into his steel vault
Along with all his other works
That had some sort of tiny fault

He slammed shut the door of the vault
And began to think of his next piece
Never once thinking it too
Would make his vault’s contents increase

Years later, when he was much older
And tried to store one more away
The vault’s door exploded wide open
And out spilled all of its cache

There he lay buried in pieces
That used to seem like they were flawed
But where once he’d been irritated
Now the old man was just awed

The years had done something to his eyes
No longer did he see the specks
All he saw was how amazing
Were all his abandoned projects

The joy and the wonder he got
Had suddenly made him admit
Perfecto had been very selfish
To think all his work was unfit

He understood there in that moment
Not everyone sees things the same
What one person thinks is imperfect
Another might loudly exclaim:

“I love it! It’s awesome! Fantastic!
I really enjoyed all your work!
Thank you for sharing it with me
And bringing to my face a smirk!”

And so Perfecto sat and cried
‘Cause all of his passion and talent
Lay on the floor of this dark basement
Because he had not been more gallant

To not care what others would think
About the work he had created
Drowning in work he now loved
That for silly reasons he had once hated

The end

Uncorrupted Prayer

29 Aug

Uncorrupted Prayer

Dear Lord in Heaven, it’s me again
I’ve had a thought today
I know there’s many starving so
I thought I’d try to pray

For one kid in particular
That I don’t even know
I’ve never even seen a picture
Of this kid, although

I know they have it much harder
Than I have ever had
So any grace you meant for me
Please shine it on this lad

Amen

Corrupted Prayer

29 Aug

Corrupted Prayer

Hi there, god, it’s been a while
Sorry I haven’t called
I’ve been so busy with My life
It’s left My praying stalled

But something has transpired which
Has inspired Me to make
Some time to talk to you today
So I’ll take a quick break

I’ll put the things that keep Me busy
On hold for just a bit
Because I’ve got another wish
In your queue to submit

I need this thing to add to My
Collection of possessions
Maybe you could beam one down
When you’re through with confessions?

There’s also an intangible
That would bring Me much joy
Wondering if you would be
So kind as to deploy?

And then there’s that old friend of Mine
Who needs that certain thing
It would mean a lot to Me
If you could grant that bling

It would make Me feel good if
You could do Me that favor
I promise that I’ll do My best
To enjoy and savor

The thing that you just magically
Make pop-up in My life
While I kneel and wait for you
To get rid of the strife

Thanks, My lord, you’re just the best
For answering My prayers
Nothing quite like a handout
From the big guy upstairs

Amen

You’re vs Your

27 Aug

You’re vs Your

It’s gotten out of hand, I just
Can’t take it anymore
Does anyone still remember
How to use “you’re” and “your?”

If I see one more person write
“Your funny” on the net
I may do something with my laptop
That I will regret

It’s not “you’re house” or “you’re city”
Nor is it “your welcome”
I’m being so bombarded that
I feel I’ll soon succumb

To using these improperly
Because of sheer exposure
It’s enough to make you lose
All of you’re composure

Because your constantly seeing
No one give a care
How did proper grammar become
So extremely rare?

You’re average Joe just can’t seem to
Grasp simple concepts like
Abbreviating “you are” by
Making “a” take a hike

And separating both the sides
With an apostrophe
What’s the matter, don’t have enough
Time to find that key?

Is it missing from you’re phone?
Or maybe your too busy?
Wait a second, is that right?
I’m feeling a bit dizzy

I think I’ll go and lie down while
Your reading this here ballad
And if you’re built-in spell check thinks
That my grammar is valid

If your finished reading this
And can’t find my mistakes
If nothing here seems incorrect
If you’re head never shakes

I’ll firmly plant my face inside
My palm to show the fail
Because my sarcastic lesson
Has been to no avail

                                Miro 😉

Finish It!

26 Aug

Finish It

Being someone who works hard
At many different things
I’ll often get a person who
Comes up to me and sings

“I’ve got an idea that I think
May be right up your alley!”
The problem is they don’t stick to
It until the finale

If someone gave me a nickel
For every great idea
I’d have enough to purchase both of
North and South Korea

They talk about their master plan
Excitement in their eyes
Strictly focused on the joy
That will come with the prize

But somewhere down along the road
Towards the finish line
Things don’t always go so smooth
What’s this, a steep incline?

An effort that must be expended?
Sweat that must be poured?
Oh no! Some hard work before you
Can claim your sweet reward!

I’m not the brightest guy around
I’m not the wisest either
Most talented in my field
Or passionate, I’m neither

The key to my success has been
That I will never quit
While everyone is tapping out
I just will not submit

I haven’t finished everything
That I’ve ever conceived
But the ratio of all
The things that I’ve achieved

Is high enough to make me proud
Of all the things I’ve finished
One or two things in limbo
Don’t make me feel diminished

But most of the ideas I hear
Don’t ever leave the ground
It starts with so much excitement
But then I have to hound

And pester and ask, “What’s the word?
Have you done any work?”
More often than not I hear
That they have had to shirk

Their wonderful idea because
They’ve been extremely ‘busy’
This pattern of vigor and then
Indifference makes me dizzy

Hold on to that feeling of
Excitement at the start
You’re going to need it all the way
Because it will depart

As you find out it takes time
And effort to complete
This wonderful idea you have
This monumental feat

Sorry if I come off crass
But I’ve just had my fill
Of great ideas that people have
Before they climb the hill

I’ve had too many conversations
Where I ask about
That great idea that never flew
Because someone bailed out

“Finish it!” I can’t resist
From saying anymore
“Shut your mouth and move your legs
Until they’re nice and sore”

‘Cause anyone can talk about
A great idea that came
It’s the ones who finish it
That will get the acclaim

                           Miro

Arm Yourself

26 Aug

Arm Yourself

When you got up out of bed
Were you fully aware
That there may be some troubles
Ahead you’ll have to bare?

When you swung your legs to floor
Did you prepare yourself
By grabbing all the weapons that
You’ll need off of your shelf?

It’s true, we do not live in times
Of knights and swords and shields
But for modern warriors
The battle never yields

Gone are raiders, hordes and armies
That attack our towns
We are no longer ruled by
The ones who wear gold crowns

Still there are the challenges
That attack every day
And just like knights, we must be armed
Before we enter fray

The weapons that we need to fight
The battles going on
Are not axes or swords or spears
Or any kind of brawn

Patience is the weapon that
We should all reach for first
It will defend effectively
Against all of life’s worst

Understanding is another
Weapon we should take
Without it, we may soon find that
More squabbles we will make

A peaceful heart will serve us well
Whenever someone thinks
That it’s an opportune time
To fight after some drinks

And finally, equip yourself
With the mentality
Of a warrior who doesn’t
Cower and then flee

A warrior does not turn tail
A warrior stands fast
A warrior endures the storm
Whenever they’re harassed

Traffic, weather, imbeciles
Without a lick of sense
Morons who get on our nerves
And make us feel so tense

If we do not arm the tools
To parry their attacks
Metaphorically speaking
We’ll end up on our backs

But if we woke and realized
A battle was ahead
If we armed ourselves right after
We got out of bed

The challenges we’ll face won’t have
An easy time upsetting
The bigger weapons you equip
The less you will be fretting

Arm yourselves!

                               Miro

Pop Culture Poetry: Restored (Tron: Legacy)

25 Aug


Restored

He glides ahead on his light jet
And takes aim of the foes
Whoever’s on that gatling gun
Has kept him on his toes

He barrel rolls across the top
Of his enemy’s ship
The image of the pilot cracks
Across him like a whip

Time slows down as he comes face
To face with the creator
The user sees right through his mask
His expression cries “Traitor”

Although the moment passes by
Within a flash of light
To the former guardian
It feels like a fortnight

Sorrow and remorse wash over
The user’s old face
He’s aged so much since last they spoke
And not with any grace

He finishes his barrel roll
And the corruption fights
Harder than it ever has
But his old code invites

The former guardian to follow
What he’s meant to do
It started with a trickle at
The Disc Wars and then grew

As he thought more of the users
He swore to protect
Seeing his old friend now did
Help to fully reject

The corruption in his veins
Because he knew the truth
About his master, because even
Though his face had youth

It never once did show the pain
Or passion or the love
That the user showed just now
As he passed by above

His master locked his targets on
Their ship and took his aim
Too bad his old right hand man
Was no longer the same

“I fight…” the guardian growled
No more would he forget
“For the user!” as crashed
Into his master’s jet

As he plummeted towards
The sea of simulation
He felt an overwhelming sense
Of joy and liberation

He had to make sure his old friend
Was kept safe from the guards
He pulled his spare baton out but
It wasn’t in the cards

His master wouldn’t go so easy
He snatched away the spare
And formed another light jet in a
Brilliant flash and flare

It was the last thing that he saw
Before he was swallowed
By the sea of simulation
Just darkness followed

The liquid penetrated him
And his power did sever
Everything shut down as he
Slowly sunk forever









He saw a tiny blue light grow
And felt his power course
Restoring him to what he was:
The system’s guarding force

Pop Culture Poetry: Corrupted (Tron:Legacy)

25 Aug

Corrupted

Something eats away at him
A conflict in his code
Somewhere he’s been rewired
To not access the node

That does define just what he is
A guardian of all
Although he can no longer hear
He still can feel the call

Cycles pass while he ignores
The splinter in his mind
That whispers he is no longer
Free roaming, but confined

Shackled by the copy of
The one who made this place
Many cycles had now passed
Since last he saw that face

The real one, not the clone who thinks
He’s without imperfection
The more he thinks, the more he sees
The clone’s a pale reflection

Of the man who brought him in
To watch over the weak
Ever since the user left
This world’s been much more bleak

He readies for another game
Of Disc Wars for the crowd
They chant a name that’s not his own
But all he hears is loud

Whirring from his systems which
Now warble from inside
Amplified by the helmet
In which he does now hide

He battles the next contestant
This one seems not the same
He moves and thinks so differently
Not shackled by the game

His reflexes are lightning fast
He dodges and evades
Every single offensive
Attack he takes and trades

The former guardian sees a
Moment to end the fight
He takes the challenger down and
Goes to turn out his light

But something trickles to the Grid
A single drop of blood
“User!” he growls to himself
And all emotions flood

It’s the first time in a while
He’s said something aloud
The corruption retreats from
The slowly lifting shroud

But suddenly it takes a hold
Of his systems once more
Causing him to break the oath
That he at one time swore

He brings the downed combatant to
His master to appraise
As the two converse, he stands
Corrupted, in a daze

A mindless drone no longer meant
For protecting his peers
But once again, for just a moment
The corruption clears

“User” echos in his mind
“I fight…” he starts to think
But before he finishes
His resolve loses sync

The corruption takes over
And once again he waits
Serving every order that
The look-a-like dictates