Tag Archives: rude

Passion vs Prick

12 Jun

Passion vs Prick

There was a guy who liked to bark
And shout at everyone
When it came to being rude
He wouldn’t be outdone

“That’s just his way,” folks would defend
“He’s just so passionate”
So treating everyone like dirt
Was something they’d permit

But passion doesn’t come from where
Impatience and hate lays
Disrespect and egotism
Aren’t traits it displays

Just because one’s passionate
Does not give an excuse
To ridicule a helping hand
And let the insults loose

So one day this passionate guy
Who always was so crass
Got too passionate and made
Himself look like an ass

He flailed his arms around and screamed
And threw a hissy fit
Until even his biggest fan
Had to fully admit

“That guy’s a prick! How could we be
So blind to all his antics?
We’ve pandered to his attitude
With well-meaning semantics

But now we see it doesn’t matter
How much he does care
It doesn’t matter if he’s got
Talent that is so rare

He’s just a prick, and that does not
Give him the right to be
Snide and brash and cynical
And scream like a banshee!”

And so this passionate prick’s crew
Began to dissipate
And he was left to be alone
With passion and with hate

His creative despondency
His pessimistic skill
His talent, vision, and genius
But no help to fulfill

‘Cause no one wants to work with pricks
Who only disrespect
Passion only goes so far
If ego isn’t checked

                          ~Miro

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Ugly

27 Jun

“Beauty is variable, ugliness is constant.” ~Douglas Horton

Ugly

I know someone who’s quite ugly
I speak not of their face
They have a blemish that make-up
And lipstick can’t erase

Their eyes are quite alluring and
Their cheeks have pinkish hue
But despite their pretty face
They’re ugly through and through

They think only about themselves
And about their own views
They’d never be caught dead walking
A mile in your shoes

They think that they are always right
And never are at fault
They think because they’re pretty that
Their words do not insult

They have entitlement issues
They think the world does owe
Because of good genetics that
They’re so eager to show

One day life will slap the wrinkles
Right into their faces
And they won’t have their good looks to
Get into our good graces

Time will pull down on their skin
And make their eyes look tired
All the make-up in the world
Won’t make them more desired

And then they’ll have to face the truth
Which will cause them to pout:
They won’t have courage, grace and love
To make true beauty sprout

Youthful skin won’t hide their scowl
Or their lack of peace
Their true selves will be magnified
With every facial crease

And that’s when ugly people have
A slice of humble pie
When skin-deep beauty starts to be
In very short supply

When they cannot do anything
To stop what nature takes
When their vision starts to go
And when their body aches

They start to realize that they’re
Not perfect after all
Maybe they contributed
To every single brawl

And maybe then they’ll be able
To say “I’m sorry too”
“Now I see that the whole blame
Did not lay just on you”

It takes two people to argue
And to engage in war
Fights happen when one puts down
Their foot and says, “No more!”

To the beautiful uglies
Who are so conceited
Keep in mind what is in store
For your beauty ahead

Remember that your flesh and bone
Lasts only a few years
Everything that’s physical
One day just disappears

True beauty’s in virtues like
Benevolence and grace
And doesn’t have the slightest thing
To do with your cute face

                                ~Miro

Text Addiction

2 Jun

“Why is it drug addicts and computer aficionados are both called users?”  ~Clifford Stoll


Text Addiction

The theatre lights start to dim
The usher goes out on a limb
And says out loud “Please, cell phones off”
You hear a couple people scoff

The warning screen comes up and reads
“Please, cell phones off” and film proceeds
The lights go out except for screens
Still lit up from a couple teens

And twenty-something people plus
Some older who still do discuss
With friends not there through both their thumbs
Eventually a comment comes

“Will you please stop that?” someone calls
The texter covers phone and stalls
But after a few minutes, they
Continue to then text away

Let me delve into their mind
Expose the person who is blind
To many people who surround
These texting people do astound

They do not seem to realize
How their lit screens distract the eyes
The theatre screen should be the
Only lit picture that we see

But when you leave your cell phone on
Our eyes wander and are then drawn
To their selfish little text chatter
That to all others does not matter

It can wait two hours ‘till
The movie’s runtime does fulfill
If someone is unable to
Go without texting for a few

Hours, they really should admit
How they’re unable to commit
That they do lack all self-control
And depend on cell to console

When asking these folks to please cease
I do not bark, but say with peace
“It’s shameful how undisciplined
You are” which makes them quite chagrinned

Because they’ve heard the usher say
And saw the message on display
And while a hundred other men
And women shut off with “amen”

These few users could not let go
Turn cell phone off, enjoy the show
They are elsewhere while hitting keys
And all they create is unease

It’s selfishness I don’t abide
So my true feelings I don’t hide
So many paid their hard earned cash
To watch the film, not cell screen’s flash

So if my first warning’s unheard
The Warrior in me is stirred
I will get up and ask them to
Give me the cell or say adeui

‘Cause everyone else just complains
Everyone in seat remains
But one in every hundred stands
Sticks out their hand and then commands

That their selfishness stops right now
No more of it will we allow
Go outside if you want to text
Or usher’s powers will be flexed

Half the time the texters stop
They turn it off and let it drop
The other half, the texter can’t
Break their addiction so they rant

They’ll call you names and be offended
That on them you have descended
Completely blind to why you spoke
They’ll tell you how you’re a big joke

But guess what? Now they’re feeling frazzled
And movie won’t leave them dazzled
The other half will stand and leave
So either way, you do achieve

Exactly what you set out to
A text addiction broken through
So when you see those screens still lit
Don’t grumble quietly and sit

Stand up, walk over, get in faces
Close enough to see their braces
Jar them out of that machine
‘Cause they are lost within that screen

Oblivious to world around
The paying patrons who surround
So be one of the few who go
The extra mile to let them know

What they are doing is quite weak
Their lack of self-control critique
Regardless of what they say back
They know the discipline they lack

                                              ~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

The Lost Art of Salutation

17 Jun

The Lost Art of Salutation

When my dad was a child
In a long ago age
People were not
So shy to engage

Or lazy or fearful
Or surly or rude
To not give a greeting
Was thought of as crude

My father was taught
When he entered a room
To take notice of all
And let his voice boom

“Hello everyone!
Good to see you once more!
And to those I don’t know
I’m pleased to make your

Acquaintance today”
And tell them his name
He’d stick out his hand
And they’d do the same

The ancient handshake
A sign of respect
The best way for two
Strangers to connect

But something got lost
As years did pass by
Hands stopped extending
And few would say “Hi”

It became commonplace
To walk in a joint
And sit down without
Making a point

To say who you are
And to greet the ones there
Many would just
Be unaware

When you start with indifference
Right off the bat
Is it surprising
Most friendships fall flat?

My father taught me
To stick out my paw
But sometimes it’s met
With a smirk and guffaw

Sometimes I’m given
A look of confusion
They might even check
My head for contusion

“What the hell’s that?”
Is the look on their face
As they take the hand
With an awkward embrace

There’s nothing wrong with
A womanly shake
Unless you’re a man
And afraid you might break

A nail or a bone
Or pick up a germ
But I was taught that
The grip should be firm

It’s the warrior’s way
What my dad taught me
And his dad before him
And on down the tree

So though it’s archaic
An ancient lost art
I have no problem
In standing apart

By following what
My father instilled
Whether your mood
Is glowing or chilled

I’ll stick out my hand
And tell you “Hello”
Because I believe
It’s the best way to show

That I’m happy to meet you
And want to construe
That salutation’s
The best way to debut

                           Miro