Awake (Poem)


He sat awake in bed unable to find sleep
Eyes would shut to rest and awake wide-open
Mouth remained closed with tightly clinched teeth
Breathing paced slow and steady and quiet
Heartbeat echoed through the pitch dark room
He simply could not fall asleep

On this night he dreamt awake
He saw his decisions and the what-ifs
They were mapped out before him
The regret of doing and not doing
The burden or privilege of having choice
He wondered and wondered what-if

The picture reel looped infinitely
No clicks came from typing keys
A flameless light lit nothing
Time was digital but frozen still
Water dripped without a sound
He slept awake

Laundry on tumble, dishes on rinse
The cycles continue
Lights off when the sun shines through
Feet up at the end of a long day
Night is dark with no length
Dreams from the day intertwine

Departures take flight as he touches down
Body, mind and spirit as a whole
Calm in synch, in control
Bridges to connect here to there
More roads to navigate through
Blank signs pointing at him

Farther and further along
Origins are previous destinations
Gas tank half full or half empty
But he was walking
Up mountains, down valleys
Into caverns, out of forests

Pages wrote with inkless pen
He told himself a different story every time
Power in knowing
Fear in not
Vacant and occupied
Standards by his own discretion

Wild fires lay under
Heavy clouds from above
He remained in the middle
Between awake and asleep
Nowhere to be found
A dual citizen

No drowning in his sleep
Even though he doesn’t know how to swim
No falling off the bed tonight
Even though he teeters on the edge
No waking up in cold sweats
Because emotions are in check (the lie)

Covers drape with the wind
Then they tighten like a straight-jacket
Comfort for the moment only
Uneasy in his own skin
Misplaced oneself
An outcast

One sock on, one sock off
Toss and turn
His door is shut from the world
While a window is ajar
The sheep don’t want to be counted
They know this is not their place

Midnight snacks are plentiful
Food for thought
His appetite is endless
Delicate wishful thinking is devoured
He suffers from malnutrition

Walls surround and rotate
Shadow puppets dance around
Friends and foes meet in the corners
Room only for that which matters
But his baggage is close behind
It follows him in

He races to an unknown finish
Each time is different
On the same track
His paradigm
The middle is an adventure
The beginning is never seen again

One capsule by mouth one time daily
Heal the wounds
Time to move on
The cat prowls with keen eyes
It forgives favourably but never forgets
Simple minds layered

Now he has the spins
An empty grave for him to fall in
A pair of shoes in just his size
Chaos gives him no rest
He simply could not fall asleep
On this night he dreamt awake

Copyright © amarmirch |


Eve and the Fire Horse (2005) — English/Cantonese


Eve and the Fire Horse is a whimsical Canadian drama written and directed by Vancouver-based Julia Kwan. The film serves as a true melting pot of story telling as it uses imagination and honesty flawlessly. It explores faith from a child’s perspective and dives right into multiculturalism, religion, innocence and childhood.  The great thing is that anyone, from any religion or at any age, should be able to both understand and relate to the film.


Eve and the Fire Horse – Ratings & Reviews

Eve and the Fire Horse – IMDb

Dead Grass Fields (Poem)

Dead Grass Fields

Running across dead grass fields. Under the darkening grey skies. Clouds grow and clash in fashion. Rain pours to drench life away. Into flooded waters with no lifeboat. Land is changed and never the same again.

Surrounded by swift and uncanny chaos. In the middle of a sea of piranha. Laughed at by packs of hyena. Chalk outlines of where the fallen were. No flowers bloom at the graves in hell.

Washed away and left with dirty puddles. The lucky drowned in an instant. The stray grasped for breath; another life. Pulled out of depth by invisible ropes. Resting on ledge of resurrected hopes.

Rolling over if another side exists. A tall glass of milk without the milk. Spoons into empty bowls of pity and hunger. Survival brings forth no sign of rescue. No guarantee that rebirth is possible.

Out of ashes where the world burned away. The Earth was looted of its possessions. Used, abused and soon tossed away. Far too late in trying to recycle. Killers run free across dead grass fields.

Copyright © amarmirch |