Tag Archives: death

The Root of All Fears

11 Aug
The Root of All Fears
 
There was a man ‘was ‘fraid of death
It spread to all this thoughts
The fear of breathing his last breath
Left his thin will in knots
 
The fear of that dark, patient reaper
Was root of all dread
Every scare, funk, fright and doubt
Was thanks to Mr. Dead
 
He lived out his entire life
In fear of his demise
And when it came, with his last breath
And closing of his eyes
 
Still he clung by fingernails
And wheezed for leniency
But Death is absolutely fair
And never shows mercy
 
There was a gal ‘was ‘fraid of death
It coloured every day
Despite a stunning canvas
Death would taint life with dismay
 
Every single moment had
A mark of coming doom
A marriage, child’s birth, even
A flower in full bloom
 
Every wondrous moment rotted
With the thought of loss
Nothing took away the fear
No bible, no gold cross
 
No quotes, no books, no meditation
Eased her of her fear
One day her heart exploded when
The Reaper did appear
 
There was a child ‘was ‘fraid of death
That fear was planted early
Her mommy and her daddy said
That death turned straight hair curly
 
They taught her death was to be feared
Because loss causes pain
And also taught that happiness
Is only when you gain
 
And so she grew and gained and was
Quite happy ‘till she lost
But then she gained again which caused
A thawing of the frost
 
Until the day that Mr. Dead
Arrived on her front door
She dropped and sobbed in terror for
Her coda on the floor
 
There was a Warrior ‘was not
Afraid of death and so
Since death is the root of all fears
His life did not have woe
 
He made his peace with Mr. Dead
And said “When you are ready”
And lived each day as though his last
With power, poise, steady
 
The ones who lived in fear
The ones who were afraid to die
Called him crazy as they tainted
Flowers and the sky
 
But Warrior, his deal made firm
Saw colours bright and vivid
No tainting, simply pure and true
Which made the normals livid
 
Each moment, no matter how small
Was special and serene
Impending doom did not besmirch
The red and blue and green
 
When Mr. Dead chose to collect
The price we all must pay
The Warrior settled the fee
Promptly as he did say
 
“As it so happens I woke up
This morning and did ponder
This may be my final day
And so I should not squander
 
I lived it as each other day
As if were my last
I pay the toll with no regrets
My life has been quite vast”
 
Mr. Dead collected and
The Warrior did die
Just like all the others but
The Reaper gave a sigh
 
“If only all would live while they
Still breathe instead of fear
Such a waste, to let my toll
Rob them of all their cheer”
 
                       ~Miro
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The Mileage

14 Dec

The Mileage

A common theme among my songs is breaking from the herd
Encouraging to step back, analyze through rhyming word
To scrutinize the silliness the crowd perpetuates
Rejecting how the lazy masses follow dire straits

Here is one example of what everybody does:
When someone dies, the first thing mentioned isn’t what he was
It isn’t what she believed in, nor what he did create
There beside his or her name…a silly little date

A whole life summed up in numbers as if to quantify
But those with more mileage than years have learned that numbers lie
How silly, stupid, crazy, empty, ignorant and blind
To not be summed up by passion, but by *years* be defined

Do me this one favour when the reaper comes, my dear
Don’t let them write, “Miro, 1976 up to this year”
‘Cause I have lived ten lifetimes worth in happiness and pain
In suffering and joy, intensity, power and strain

Write “Miro, Warrior Poet” or “Miro, Honest Writer”
Write “Miro, Took No Shit” or “Miro, Lover, Joker, Fighter”
Do me that one favour and do what I’ve always done
When you see silly, stupid shit, don’t just let it slide, hun

Speak up, state your case and if some feathers ruffle, swell!
Personal offense is often the ego’s death knell
Don’t go along, don’t follow, try harder than “RIP”
Heart and soul can’t be summed up with “1” or “2” or “3”

                                               ~Miro

The Time That’s Left

25 Jun

hourglass

The Time That’s Left

A quirky twist of fate to be imbued with the belief
That we will live forever, yet our time on Earth is brief
We make bold declarations that “Tomorrow, things will change!
Tomorrow the battle begins! I’ll plan and rearrange!”

Procrastinating since we think because we’ve lived this long
Precedent would prove that we’ll for many years prolong
While all the truths which do dispel this naive ignorance
Are scoffed at, scorned, evaded or met with indifference

“Healthy” people dying of a heart attack at fifty
Time cut short despite their abstinence from drugs and whisky
Young lives cut too short because a mishap with car
Fate ignores how talented they were with a guitar

Children filled with love and life and innocence close eyes
And breathe their final breath despite their mothers’ prayers and cries
In one quick blink the life that was is now longer there
And though we witness death each year, so few seem to beware

“Tomorrow this, tomorrow that” despite constant reminders
“Tomorrow” is not guaranteed regardless of your blinders
So live for something that in fact you do possess right now:
This moment, wake up, look around, breathe deep, my dears, somehow

Be present and get up and do the things you have delayed
Revel in the chance, the gift and do not be afraid
The time that’s left is not something to look upon in fear
The seconds that remain are something to love and revere

Time is almost up, my dears, get up and make the most
May I remind that very soon your spirit leaves its host?
And what will the survivors say? That you just sat and thought?
Or that you were a Warrior and PUSHED and STRIVED and FOUGHT?

                                                  ~Miro

FIGHT, WARRIOR, FIGHT

20 Jun

Aleide-Lawant-vs-Miriam-Nakamoto-WBC-Muay-Thai-Lightweight-Championship

FIGHT, WARRIOR, FIGHT

The punches fly, the normals fall and clutch their injury
They wince with pain and pray to God and beg for sweet mercy
They tremble at the taste of their own blood, it’s so revolting
Their lives are lived in luxury, the pain now feels so jolting

They plead for sympathy because they think hurt is the end
That pleasure was their goal in life, not to survive and mend
They give up quickly and curl up and whimper through the rest
Wondering why they no longer are favoured and blessed

The WARRIOR tastes her own blood, a smile dons her lips
And never waivers as red trickles, oozes, spurts and drips
Skin is torn and bones are fractured, still she never quits
‘Cause pain is not enough to rob her of her grace and wits

The punches are soon joined by kicks and more damage is done
The WARRIOR absorbs it all, she does not turn and run
Because the only condition for failure is her death
“You’ll have to kill me,” she growls underneath her breath

The savagery continues but the WARRIOR withstands
“You’ll have to kill me,” she snarls as each vicious blow lands
“You’ll have to kill me,” she dares those who think they know of rage
“…kill me,” she taunts those who try her spirit to assuage

But none of those who furrow brows, hurl threats and inflict pain
Are willing to go just THAT FAR in order to attain
Control over a WARRIOR, they do not end her life
None of her assailants will bury and twist that knife

Their anger has it’s limits and their line’s drawn ‘fore the grave
The WARRIOR has one foot in the ground, that’s why she’s brave
“Go ahead and push the rest into that 6-foot pit”
She chides those who all act so fierce but not one will commit

They calm and say they don’t want that to weigh upon their soul
“Funny,” the WARRIOR responds, “Even your spirit’s goal
Is ease and comfort, luxury, no weight it wants to bear
That is why you only yell and punch but do not dare

To stop the beating of my heart, too far and too extreme?
Too dark and too sinister, you’d rather shout and scream?”
Imagine if that sick feeling that hurtful people felt
When death was around the corner was even sooner dealt

Imagine if that empathy arose with the first scorn
Imagine if that guilt and shame appeared with first word sworn
Imagine just how much less pain man would inflict on man
Imagine just how much more understanding here would span

That is why the world needs WARRIORS to take the hate
And call bullshit and chastise, scold, admonish and berate
FIGHT, WARRIOR, FIGHT until your heart pumps its last beat
Against those who act angry but see Reaper and retreat

                                                      ~Miro

To Die For

9 Jun

To Die For

What is there worth dying for? The normals think, “Nothing!”
Their sole purpose in life is to live long with ease and sing
They would not lay their lives down for a single truth or cause
They would not risk their heart’s beating or breath in lungs because

They do not understand the concept of “self sacrifice”
They want something for nothing and they balk when there’s a price
They live in free countries all built upon the bodies of
Soldiers who died for a cause: self-sacrifice and love

When threats arise, they run in fear and dial 9-1-1
“Save me!” they ask cops who, much like soldiers, do not shun
Their duty to lay down their lives to protect those in fear
Whose sole purpose in life is just survive and live with cheer

What would you die for? Some old cliché like, “For my kids!”
The truth is despite what you say, all your training forbids
You cannot run and hide each time some awkwardness appears
And then when the Grim Reaper comes, to not succumb to fears

The Warrior and Poet, Archilochus, did describe
How no praying or wishing, bargaining or gift or bribe
Can save you from your lack of training, “THAT’S to where we fall”
You think you’ll make the sacrifice? I think you’ll simply crawl

When someone breaks into your house and threatens your kid’s life
You think you’ll die with glory as you charge towards the knife?
Your ego likes to paint the scene, how you will rise and win
It leaves out your slow reflexes, your doubt and your chagrin

It doesn’t tell you how you’ll shake just like each time there’s yelling
You run away instead of step forward with courage swelling
Some say Warriors all have a death wish and are nuts
They say, “You should be more careful which hill you die on, putz!”

I SAY there are many hills on which I’d breathe my last
The causes for which I would die are quite diverse and vast
Empathy, awareness, fitness, nutrition and health
Sacrifice over ego, soulfulness over wealth

Control of self, the choice to let it go and be offbeat
Gays and women’s rights, refusal to eat tortured meat
All of those and many more for which I would perish
“Crazy,” “quirky,” “angry,” “bitter,” uptight,” “psycho,” “garish”

Are words that cowards use for those who believe something’s worth
Paying the ultimate price: your final breath on Earth
But why then do those who would pay no longer live in fear?
Why do they no longer need to unwind with a beer?

Why do they not turn to pills or drugs to calm their nerves?
Why are they in state of “zen” that through turmoil, preserves?
The peace and clarity that those who don’t fear death possess
Comes from paying highest price, not because God did bless

It comes from being aware, from sound mind, from willing choice
“You’ll have to KILL ME because I won’t quit,” is their bold voice
And when D-Day does come around, a Warrior will know
Their final breath is filled with grace, not angst and fear and woe

                                          ~Miro

A Warrior’s Open Letter to Death

1 May

“Once more into the fray. Into the last good fight I’ll ever know. Live and die on this day. Live and die on this day.” ~The Grey


A Warrior’s Open Letter To Death

Dear Grim Reaper, I’d like to warn
That I won’t run like most
I will not flee, I will not hide
This is not a proud boast

It’s not a threat or challenge
Just a promise what’s to come
When we are face to face, this Warrior
Will not succumb

To fear, to doubt or regret ‘cause
For years I have now walked
The path that so many have only
Dreamed and wished and talked

I know you wait until some are
Breaking down and quite old
Know regardless of my grey
I’ll always be this bold

Come for me while I’m still strong
In muscle and in mind
Come for me before my ears
Go deaf and eyes go blind

And though the outcome’s definite
I only have one goal
When I do battle with you, it’s
To exact a great toll

I do not doubt your victory
But I assure one truth
If you come for me while I am
Still in my years of youth

When you are finished, you will have
To stop and take a breath
You’ll know it was a Warrior
That has just battled Death

See you somewhere down the road
On that cold, lonely night
I’m not afraid for I know it
Will be my last good fight

                            ~Miro

Tree holocaust

27 Dec

deadtrees

Tree holocaust

Murdered trees adorn the curbs
Amongst the stinking trash
For ten years they grew beautifully
Then chopped down in a flash

Decorated for two weeks
Then discarded as junk
The ignorance behind their death
Puts me in a small funk

Idiots and imbeciles
Defend their lack of thought
By just repeating what their parents
And grandparents taught:

“They grow them for this reason, to
Be chopped down for this day!”
With all due respect, to hell
With what these people say

To hell with things they tell themselves
To justify the greed
Of killing something ten years old
Just to selfishly feed

Their desire to decorate
Their living room and smell
That “fresh pine scent” that emanates
From evergreen’s dead shell

And when Christmas is over and
The needles start to fall
Time to kick it to the curb
And next year, have the gall

To kill another decade old
Tree that was “meant to die”
Just another sign of how
Mankind has gone awry

                                    ~Miro