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Miro
When my life is playing with me, I play with words, sounds and ideas.
32 Posts • 213 Followers • 1k Following
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Miro

And there are many, too many of us, those who fake, blame, hate, break and wait.

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Miro

Broken.

Broken rules rule the world,

Broken wings of white doves,

Broken dreams of many men,

Broken were by people like me.

Broken hearts of many mothers,

Broken promises of many dads,

Broken goals of many men,

Broken were all just for me.

Cover image for post Global mess- full., by Miro
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Miro

Global mess- full.

Argh! Abuse, ache and anger!

Bestial and brutal barbarians bargain baby bodies for few bucks.

Cha-ching! Chasing of cash.

Call of dumb and deaf duty. Damage and danger of war decay declares country defense but delivers depression, dirt and death.

D`oh d`oh! Disillusion? Done!

Eeeyouch! Each emotion and enemy is eliminated. Enjoyment ends.

Fear fighting for freedom?

Flick a flack fleck of fake flagrant fools and fathers of country.

Grrr! Global goverments` goal guarantees the grave for the Good.

Hush humans, huminity and hope. How horribly hated you are!

Itch!

Jail doesn`t come from judges or juries but just from our jealousy.

Knock knock!

But it`s locked. Locked liberty, life and love.

Money machines maintain to manipulate media and thus us humans with no mercy.

Neener, neener! Nyah! Nail us for nothing.

Ow! Ouch! Old fashioned opinions.

Parents participate with peace and patiance in phobic persecutions of their progenies.

Quiver! Quiver! Trembling quality of life.

So, quit!

So, rescue! Rage! Resing!

Commit a suicide or are scared?

Screw you!

Tear you fear to trash!

Understand?

Uh-huh?

Vain value for you.

Our world wants waste, global warming, weakness and not welfare.

Whoops!

You xenophobe.

Yeah, you! Yell you! Your youth yearns to be young for thousands years.

But it`s zero years so zap your zen and huminity!

Challenge
Prose Challenge of the Week #29: Write a piece of micropoetry consisting entirely of onomatopoeia/alliteration on humanity or inhumanity. The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100. When sharing to Twitter, please use the hashtag #ProseChallenge
Cover image for post Global mess., by Miro
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Miro

Global mess.

Argh!

Abuse, ache and anger!

Yell you! Your youth yearns to be young for thousands years.

Whoops!

World wants waste, global warming, weakness and not welfare.

D`oh! D`oh! 

Disillusion? Done!

Cover image for post Estranged., by Miro
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Miro

Estranged.

The promises broken,

The plans changed,

The hearts frozen,

The souls estranged.

Cover image for post It says..., by Miro
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Miro

It says...

It says: „Pull out that old dusty bench which used to be used when your friends came.“

It says: „Come on, man! Where is that aged whiskey which sparkled the conversation which never ends?“

It says: „My brother! Life is too short to despair and overthink.“

It says: „Let`s live, let`s feel, let`s make some stupid mistakes and actions.“

It says: „I haven`t spoken with you for such a long time. Now I wonna talk with you.“

It says: „Let me be the leader, the decision maker for a while.“

It says: „Oh man! It`s such a great moments with you.“

It says: „I wonna talk with people, laugh with people, get to know some fresh people.“

It says: „Forget money and go out. Forget the past, the future and live for this moment. You haven`t done this for a long time.“

It says: „You owe me moments like this.“

I say: „Welcome my friend. I was looking for you for years. Where have you been? You know what? Do not even try to explain where have you been. I do not wonna know. Just let`s have some fun, some great time, let`s make some memorable memories. It was epic the last time we were together, man! And it all started with that bench and whiskey, didn`t it?“

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Miro

Walking down the street,

Chilling like from weed,

People passing enormous speed,

My mind slowed down so I catch every thought.

My heart calmed so I can feel what love always taught.

And this is another day from those,

You see, you feel, you care of every rose.

One of those days you don't see only your selfish nose.

And you somehow know that everything is perfect.

So you are looking for another second, minute, hour, day with joy, gratitude and respect.

And this is just another life, another try,

So when this life ends there's no need to cry.

You know, certain is the fact you'll die.

And thus find those young days, those forgotten feelings,

when every small thing changed to surprise, joy, love or memorable meetings.

Cover image for post My, Your, Our., by Miro
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Miro

My, Your, Our.

My body covered in sweat,

My blood leaving my head,

My palms getting wet,

My mind almost dead,

My eyes would others forget,

My heart your pet,

My thoughts caught in a net.

Your kindness the biggest asset,

Your faith the safe bet,

Your soul with mine met,

Your intention sweet threat,

Your words needed whet,

Your heart is my pet,

Your mind in the right mindset.

Our time no more upset,

Our souls finally met,

Our lives mutual offset,

Our skin getting red,

Our future not roulette,

Our laugh never regret,

Our love till sunset.

Challenge
Write about strength. Seize this word and run with it, wherever it takes you.
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Miro

The strong.

When I was a student, in my old days, I studied, explored and tried as I could. I had head in the clouds and sometimes kept feet on the ground. I was good student. The very best one. Graduating with honours. My professor always wanted me to be PhD student, to be the clever one.

When I was a sportsman, in my old days, I trained, played and tried as I could.

I had head in the clouds and I rarely kept feet on the ground. I was good player. The very best one. Playing every match from beginning to end. My coach always wanted me to be the captain, to be the leader, to be the strong one.

When I was a banker, in my old days, I learnt, cared of customers and tried as I could. I had head in the clouds and I never kept feet on the ground. I was good banker. The very best one. Breaking every record in sales. My manager always wanted me to be his successor, to be the successful one.

When I thought that I taught how to be tough one I fell with my face on the ground.

If I were strong, in all my old days, I would never be selfish, oblivious and overestimating myself.

If I were strong, in those good old days, I would spend more time with my friends, family and love.

If I were strong, in those great old days, I would not be afraid to fall, to cry and to ask for help.

If I were strong, in those dusty old days, I would praise, thank and love.

If I were strong, in those tough old days, I would search for those better, stronger and more successful ones.

Because that`s what the strong do.

Challenge
Prose Challenge of the Week #28: Write an acrostic using the word “Prose.” The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100. When sharing to Twitter, please use the hashtag #ProseChallenge
Cover image for post Prose Rose Or Sore Epos?, by Miro
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Miro

Prose Rose Or Sore Epos?

Prose is the close soul reP

Rose in a pose aint been a poseR

Or die or write like a prO

Sore is prose tied up in ropeS

Epos lives as a spore in every porE

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