Category Archives: Pain

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Acuity: My first feature film

ACUITY MOVIE POSTER

Greetings all and happy weekend!

As some of you may know, I’ve dabbled in the film industry under the stage name “Michael Mercy.” A few years ago I wrote, directed and co-starred in an inspirational film called “Acuity,” a term you may have seen pop up in some of my writings.

After many requests from viewers of my online movie discussion show, Armchair Directors, I’ve decided to break it out of the vault, dust if off, and put it up on our Youtube channel for all the world to see.

Many of the themes of my writings are present in the film, so I think readers here will enjoy it. Themes of courage, gratitude, living in the moment and not allowing others to influence our emotions.

Thanks for watching, enjoy the show and by all means share the link with your friends and family if you feel the message will have meaning for them as well.

You can watch Acuity online here.

Notice the little things,
Miro (Michael Mercy)

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Vicariously

Vicarious: adjective – felt or enjoyed through imagined participation in the experience of others.

vicarious
Vicariously

The athlete wraps his swollen knee
To take the pain down one degree
He puts his uniform on and he stands

He stretches and he grunts and sneers
While in the background thunder cheers
Of fans who have some very high demands

He does some squats and starts to sweat
His knee and shoulder play roulette
Sometimes they stab, sometimes it’s just an ache

He does this every single day
And though the word they use is “play”
He knows that it’s not “fun” that is at stake

He pushes himself to his edge
He sacrifices, makes a pledge
To expect more from himself than of others

He puts on all his gear and walks
Out of the locker room and talks
With his comrades, his teammates and his brothers

But soon they’re all drowned out by fans
Who yell and scream within the stands
Who shout, “We’re gonna win!” with all their might

A man who hasn’t run in ages
Takes a swig of beer and rages
“Show them what we’re made of and go fight!”

The athlete sees another man
Who tries to not spill his beer can
While nachos balance in his other grip

He holds the chips up to his face
And gobbles some without much grace
And with a full mouth thunders, “Let ‘er rip!”

Thousands pack the seats today
To chant, to cheer, to hope, to pray
To live vicariously through the men

Who choose discomfort, struggle, pain
Through snow and sleet and cold and rain
Fans pin their hopes on warriors again

“We’re gonna win!” some slob declares
And athlete does look up and stares
A cold and steely glance because he’s heard

Enough people who act involved
So athlete’s poise becomes dissolved
Because for him it is all so absurd

He says what is on all the minds
Of his teammates as he reminds
The nacho chomping fan it’s not *his* win

Until he puts the nachos down
And hits the gym and goes to town
Which makes his teammates all chuckle and grin

The nacho chomping fan is stunned
He feels betrayed and hurt and shunned
And now he cheers for the opposing team!

Once again he lives through those
Who saw two choices and they chose
Not path of comfort but the one extreme

The athletes all compete and drive
Each other to feel more alive
While fans in stands sit by and feel connected

And cheer and pump their fists with zeal
As if their achievement is real
Vicarious accomplishment injected

They all go home and feel quite spent
“Man, what a game!” one does lament
“We gave them everything we had out there!”

The athlete shakes his head and limps
His way past all the oafs and wimps
And then collapses down into a chair

He slowly pulls the knee wrap off
The pain hits him and makes him cough
“WE won jack shit” he mumbles quietly

“The victory is for my team
No matter much you all scream
And how much you live vicariously”

                             ~Miro
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The Hotter the Forge, The Stronger the Sword

forge

The Hotter the Forge, The Stronger the Sword

The sword’s a symbol of great strength
As well as elegance
The blade can withstand great duress
If its metal is dense

Although the final sword is sleek
And smooth with mirror shine
It wasn’t always free of dents
Or a perfect straight line

The steel within its blade was not
Always so strong and stout
The path that the sword must take is
Not the most pleasant route

The raw, weak metal’s placed inside
A forge of blazing heat
And if that wasn’t bad enough
The swordsmith starts to beat

Upon the raw material
With hammer, unrelenting
Battering and pummeling
And shaping, reinventing

Stoking fire even hotter
Making the steel glow
Into the reinforced blade
That we have come to know

Every time its folded and
Is hammered out once more
Makes the blade even stronger
Down to its deepest core

Every centigrade of heat
That the forge does increase
Unlocks dormant potential
And more strength does release

We all are blades within the forge
And life is our swordsmith
Strength without an intense heat
Is no more than a myth

Just like the blade, you cannot form
Unless the fire’s stoked
Unless the hammer’s brought down hard
And your true strength’s evoked

                                  ~Miro

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Sting

sting

Based on a true story…

Sting

A man called me to ask for help
The other day at work
He asked, “You like this crappy weather?”
Surely with a smirk

“Yes,” I said with no emotion
“I enjoy rough things
With struggle and with discomfort
And with whatever stings

And pains and tears and hurts us, we
Are brought more strength and grace”
He asked if I was kidding but
He could not sense a trace

Of sarcasm or humor in
My voice so then he said,
“How old are you?” and I replied
“36 years I’ve tread”

He laughed and dismissed,
“Oh that’s why, you’re still just a young pup”
And so to show him age means nothing
I then caught him up

“I’ve been hurt bad and am in pain
I’ve lost job and my house
And worst of all, I had to watch
My loving, graceful spouse

Endure the worst pain there could be
When we found out our child
Would never take its first breath,
Yes, I’m young but I’ve complied

More pain and struggle, misery
And loss in my short years
Than many grey-haired people have
In their longer careers”

He sadly said “I’m sorry” but
I replied “I am not
It’s all these things that I’ve endured
That strengthened, sharpened, taught

Imbued with patience, wisdom, grace
And showed me the true way
That is why it is no lie
Whenever I do say

That I enjoy the challenge, struggle
Discomfort and rigor
It’s all these things that awaken
That inspire, that trigger

The Warrior that was dormant
To pound chest and to roar
To rise to the occasion and
To take a little more”

All that he could say was that
He liked my attitude
I asked him what he thought of all
The snow that chilled his mood

He changed his mind and said that it
Was not so bad in fact
“No,” I said, “There are worse things
That cause greater impact”

Before he left, I asked him just
How old he was as well
“54” he said, then I
Inquired, “How much hell?”

“Not as much as you,” he said
So I replied, “Well then
If you are lucky, struggle will
Appear and bring you Zen

And only then will you see that
The years don’t mean a thing
Rather, it’s what you survive
The hurt, the pain, the sting”

                               ~Miro

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Compensate

compensate

Compensate

“All or nothing” is a way
Of thinking that will lead
To nothing more than standing still
If you have just one speed

As years go by the damage will
Take toll on a few parts
But when a limb is lost, that’s when
The intensity starts

And heightened training  on surviving
Limbs must then be done
If something is wrong with your arm
Your task is then to run

If knees are shot or ankles ache
Then get yourself a bench
Realize your arms still work
And can be used to clench

And lift and throw around dead weight
And get your life blood flowing
If atrophy attacks one part
Then others must be growing

Compensate, don’t sit and cry
About what doesn’t work
Don’t focus on injury
‘Cause healthy parts you’ll shirk

Warriors will find a way
To push themselves as far
Physically as they can go
No matter what does mar

They’ll run or walk with neck and back
And shoulder injuries
They’ll exercise their abs and chest
Despite their blown-out knees

They are aware of what remains
And let go of what’s gone
So that the healthy parts increase
In endurance and brawn

                                        ~Miro

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Pylons

traffic-cones

Pylons

Be wary as you navigate
Through the masses of men
And women who are too selfish
To wield the sword and pen

Who are too weak and too afraid
Self-centred and aloof
Who just believe if they are given
Hard, substantial proof

The skeptics, critics, cynics, cowards
Pessimists and thieves
Are simply pylons through which a
Warrior Poet weaves

Building their dexterity
Their elegance, precision
Quickly passing by those who
Are cursed with indecision

Simply pylons, nothing more
Something to be sidestepped
They are not barriers or walls
Much too high to be leapt

They’re simply little cones on ground
That must be circumvented
And are not worth the time to be
Focused on or lamented

                            ~Miro

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Champion Warrior

My good friend Fitz “The Whip” Vanderpool just won the Canadian Middleweight Title in his mid 40′s despite most people telling him he was too old. Once again, the Whip proves that “With Hope, It’s Possible!”

title

Champion Warrior

They told him “It’s too late, old man”
“You’re much too old to fight”
But Fitz “The Whip” knew that to be
Judged by age isn’t right

Those who judged were short sighted
And didn’t see the training
The heart, desire, sacrifice
The passion still remaining

The board, the public, so many
Gave doubt and disbelief
They tried to steal his Hope and tried
To fill his heart with grief

But Champions are not affected
By another’s words
Champions are not sheep that
Walk along with the herds

Champions look within and
They listen to themselves
A Champion sees strength inside
And bravely, deeper delves

A Champion does not hear what
The pessimists do warn
A Champion blocks it all out
‘Cause Champions were born

To jab, to hook, to uppercut
To fight ‘till final round
To take all that life has to give
And pound and pound and pound

And rip respect from clutches of
Those who don’t try their best
To take it by force from all those
Who much prefer to rest

Congratulations, Champion
You have proven once more
That with Hope it is possible
Now no one can ignore

~Congrats Fitz “The Whip” Vanderpool, 45 years young
New National Boxing Authority Middleweight Champion
March 2nd, 2013

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“I Give Up On You”

Another cold, harsh truth that many won’t be able to accept because they’ve been taught to “never give up on the people they love.” The truth is some of those people are parasites completely controlled by ego and will only sap your strength, not be helped by it..

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I Give Up On You

Countless readers have told me that my writing has said
Exactly in poetic form what they thought in their head
Concepts that they couldn’t find the right words to describe
And my poem took those thoughts and did properly transcribe

So here’s another rhyming song for something that is tough
Words for how you can tell someone that enough’s enough
When someone’s failed you many times and will so many more
It’s hard to not definitively want to close that door

We want to hope, we want to pray, that they will figure out
That what they’re doing’s selfish and they’ll take the proper route
We want to believe they will come around and open eyes
To cease with all their hating, accusations or their lies

There comes a time when intuition speaks to us quite clear
It tells us that it’s pointless now and that the end is near
And yet there’s messages from past which conflict and say “Wait!”
“You can’t abandon them, there’s hope that they’ll get their life straight!”

Confusion comes because to quit seems such a simple thing
But no, my brothers and sisters, it’s harder than to cling
To give up on someone who we gave so much love and hope
Is an extremely difficult climb up a lofty slope

It takes your effort, concentration, adamance, resolve
To make a friendship that you cared so much for just dissolve
It takes a constant reminder to self that it is right
That those who care just for themselves must be gone from our sight

And it’s important to remember that we’re not God
We cannot perform miracles on people who are flawed
We do our best and let it go and leave the rest to fate
We must release ourselves from that unreasonable weight

For it is truly without reason why we still stand by
People who destroy themselves and make their loved ones cry
There’s no reason in standing by someone who doesn’t care
You’re not a slave, you’re not a captive in their tragic lair

So stand up, speak up and say it, say “I give up on you”
I did my best, I’m satisfied that I cannot get through
I’m not a God or wizard and can only do so much
And so I now release you from my hopeful, caring clutch

It’s over, I give up because you’re just a parasite
Sucking life from anyone who casts their graceful light
It’s time you tried to shine yourself, and so I bid good day
I give up on you is all that I have left to say”

Sometimes it’s these cutting words, not words soft and so sweet
That rattle cages and force selfish ego’s quick retreat
A Warrior does not encourage, pander or condone
Ingratitude or thoughtlessness and makes their feelings known

                                                            ~Miro