Tag Archives: old

Grey

19 Feb

Grey

Grey hairs are a fact of life
There’s no reason to fret
With each new strand that has no hue
I never get upset

I don’t see them as representing
That I’m getting older
Instead they are a testament
That I am growing bolder

Just as weathering will score
A proven tank in battle
The silver strands that grace my temples
Show that I won’t rattle

Ashen stubble on my chin
Is no concern of mine
It just means that when trouble comes
I bear instead of whine

Greys are badges from the years
Of having persevered
With every strand of pigment lost
There’s one less thing I’ve feared

Why would someone go and use
Some dye to hide the fact
That they’ve survived and proceed to
Withstand the world’s impact?

Salt and pepper is a way
Of telling everyone
That the battle’s half way through
And so far you have won

The amount of greys that you have on
Your head directly shows
That when the going got real tough
Your warrior arose

For grey’s the color of a fighter
One who won’t back down
The prize for bearing through it all:
A granite tinted crown

I’m thankful that as years go by
My dark mane changes tone
That both my hairdo and resolve
Together tint to stone

So next time you see greys peak out
From within your fine locks
Don’t fret over losing youth
Embrace your silver fox

It’s the color of experience
Clarity and poise
Leave the red and blonde and brown
For little girls and boys

                              ~Miro

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Same Old Same Old

1 Dec

Yawn

Same Old Same Old

“Lately” I hear people say
“There aren’t many who go
The extra mile, try harder
Who want to learn and grow”

It’s the word “lately” that makes me
Laugh a Warrior’s laugh
There’s nothing recent about the
Urge to only give “half”

It’s not just in the past ten years
That people have tried less
It has been thousands of years that
They’ve chosen to regress

For those who’ve only recently
Noticed the downward spiral
Welcome to being awake
To selfishness gone viral

There are those who are new to this
And they will act so shocked
“I can’t believe! I can’t believe!”
They’ve talked and talked and talked

But Warriors know very well
On which world they do dwell
They aren’t surprised when ugliness
Sprouts from this same old hell

They aren’t surprised, they don’t act shocked
They aren’t appalled or mad
They don’t treat laziness or selfishness
As a new fad

It is as old as the hills, mountains
Rivers, lakes and seas
The selfish quest for comfort, luxury
Enjoyment, ease

The Warrior accepts what is
The same old same old same
And they do not cry out in anger
Or try to lay blame

What it is is what it is
And all that one can do
Is disagree with how things are
And not let it change you

Not let other’s laziness
Stop you from choosing to
Walk an extra mile when
Another beckons you

Not let other’s fear distract
From what needs to be done
Not let other’s threats dissuade
And make you turn and run

Same old selfish, thoughtless world
With many who are dense
Who are oblivious, ungrateful
And take great offense

Nothing new about it, folks
It’s been that way forever
And since the dawn of time, there’s been
Warriors who would never

Let such fearful, selfish, shabby
People influence
Their attitude, their emotions
Their mood or common sense

                               ~Miro

The Old Child

17 Jan

“A warrior is never under siege. To be under siege implies that one has personal possessions that could be blockaded. A warrior has nothing in the world except his impeccability, and impeccability cannot be threatened.” ~Don Juan

The Old Child
(based on a true story)

The other day at City Hall
While I sat and did write
Beside me I heard an old man
Complain and bitch and fight

He spoke on his cell phone to someone
That had let him down
He berated and badmouthed them
While wearing quite a frown

After several minutes he
Then made another call
This person too was on the end
Of his frustrated brawl

He talked of self-importance and
How he won’t stand for it
And swore a blue streak while he threw
A little child’s fit

And just as he finished his call
A young man sauntered by
And asked him for a smoke because
His carton had run dry

This old man man scoffed and said “No way
Why don’t you get a job?”
A dirty look of disgust was
What he then chose to lob

The young man then moved on to me
And made the same request
I made an effort to be nice
And smile as I confessed

“I don’t smoke” and he smiled back
But after a few feet
He turned around and walked back to
The first man he did greet

“You do not have to be so rude”
The young man said to old
“Go to hell!” the old man said
And other words did scold

The young man took another step
Said “Got a problem, pal?”
Suddenly the old man had
Not quite as much morale

“No,” he said and waved him off
And young man walked away
Old man then turned to face me
Expecting me to say

“What a jerk” or “little punk”
But instead I asked him
“What’s the greatest purpose in
Your life?” which made him grim

He got upset just as he had
With two calls and the smoker
He called me way too deep and some
Brainwashed pathetic joker

I calmly said “That’s the problem
You don’t think deep enough
You’re more concerned with shallow thoughts
Like acting big and tough”

I watched calmly as ego writhed
And spat and flailed away
Feeling as if under fire
With venom to spray

I told him “When I’m gone and you
Have no need to posture
When ego is alone you’ll hear
Your own truth and be sure

That serving others is what we
Are placed here to achieve
The ones who serve only themselves
Are those who always grieve”

He blew things out of proportion
And missed many a notion
“What am I supposed to do?”
He said with great commotion

“I don’t have any smokes so what
Do you want me to do?”
I said “Just ‘cause you can’t oblige
Does not mean you must spew

Anger, hatred, disrespect
And treat people so poor”
Then I mentioned his two calls
Which made him insecure

He got up in a huff and said
He’d had enough of me
I told him that he was still young
But one day he would see

He laughed and said he was older
Than me but I inquired:
“Does age to you only mean how
Many years have expired?

Or does it mean how much you’ve learned
How much grace you’ve amassed
Or is it just how many days
Of breathing that have passed?”

Once again his ego screamed
And said “If you’re so nice
Why don’t you go give that stupid
Bum your Mac device?”

“You’ve missed the point” I said again
“He didn’t ask for it
He asked me for a smoke and then
He smiled with no fit

For you he turned around and wanted
To engage in war
And you backed down ‘cause of the two
It seems that you had more

To lose, and that’s the root of why
You’re always so upset
You cause your own frustration when
You want but you don’t get

You don’t accept what is, instead
You swear and point a finger
Never realizing how
Your hateful words do linger”

There’s only so much truth that an
Old child can hear at once
He gathered all his things and stood
While calling me a dunce

I noted that he once again
Was seeking comfort ‘cause
He didn’t find it comfortable
To have his brain abuzz

All he wanted from me was
A nod in agreement
But warriors do not pander
To those who rant and vent

And I imagine once that old
Child has cooled his mind
Let go of his anger and
Looked within he will find

That he’s in fact the cause of all
His unrest and turmoil
There’s only one person to blame
Just one that is his foil

I saw a light bulb moment when
I told him that old truth
For just one second he did not
Look so much like a youth

And that’s because no matter how
Upset we may all get
The truth deep down inside of us
Illuminates our fret

He walked away while mumbling
With much to think about
Deep thoughts which will cast his selfish
Way of life in doubt

That wisdom has little to do
With years or centuries
Some are youthful wise old souls
And some, just old babies

                               ~Miro