Work to feed
And then feed to work more
Rent is high for such a life
Yet one must work
Work through the bone
Work for a home

Sell one's soul
Dream to buy it back
One day...
Day, every day
And after dusk
Complaint, crib and moan
The dream I was projected?
Where is that home?

At swords with the people
In awe of the walls
Frantic attempts
At life
Dissolve it with time -
The difference
Between a house
And a home

Yet
Leave home each day
To save that dreamt dream
Stay away
Labour on
Hold on to it
Before its gone
All for love
For dreams and promises
Of a life without stone
Of a life in a home
Work away in irony
For that dream called home

Come back to the doorstep
For another night
In the rented motel
Away from the bosses
Closer to home
Tired steps
Heavy feelings
Fatigued and torn
Thirsty for the warmth
And hunger unknown
For that place called home

Dreams of childhood
Long buried in grandma's garden
The reality of the world
Very heavily borne
With hopes of a quite afterlife
To be spent cosily
Happily alone
In that nest called home

Sometimes the walls
They implode
Family's quarrels
Doors bang angrily
After a long day's work
Mornings leave an escape
Nights are lost
While batteries recharge
For the next day
The next fight
When days are lost fighting
And forgotten are the nights
Hurrying to collect pieces
To build that dream-filled dome
That place....
....called home

Dear dead Victoria
  Rotted cosily;
In excelsis gloria,
  And R. I. P.

And her shroud was buttoned neat,
  And her bones were clean and round,
And her soul was at her feet
  Like a bishop's marble hound.

Albert lay a-drying,
  Lavishly arrayed,
With his soul out flying
  Where his heart had stayed.

And there's some could tell you what land
  His spirit walks serene
(But I've heard them say in Scotland
  It's never been seen).

There are still
people in the
World
With
Clean eyes

The people
Who have
A pleasant
Profile

Their pure
Scent is
Another simile
For goodness

I've lost my
Bronze shiny
Anchor

Therefore
Anaforas in
Before spring
Blossoms do
Afloat

Me and you
Are a rolling
Records

Cosily unbound
Wraped around
The ancient aquamarine
Amphoras

As the numinous, dire
Paragraphs of our lifes
Know also of the succulent
Sweetness. Inspiration.
And everything.

I am. You.
Omnipresent

We collide with marvels.
Rainbowy bubble plops.
The world is back again.
Trickeling over tenderly
Undulated membranes.
Also the eyelid seas.

United in the ephemeral,
Ever changing images.

Desire and goodness.
The day and those nights.

Adorable, black furry divine
With soft coat, shining so fine
Barely two and half months old
Brought it home on wintry cold.

His eyes beholding, sparkling,
He in our arms cosily cuddling,
His drowsy yawns enthralling
His movements, cries marveling.

Five months puppy soon
Heaven sent, a real boon
Friendly, graceful and playful
Muscular and very powerful.

Mood enhancer, happiness bringer
Our canine aptly named Winner
Furry pawed, with a furry exterior
Beneath, an utterly amazing interior.

Well bred, well trained, a looker
Loyal, gentle, handsome Winner
Symbol of trust and patience
Furry friend known for jubilance.

Winner's choice, my little boy
Forever running, jumping, to enjoy
Both definitely each other's toy
And undoubtedly each other's joy.

Nose driven, very nice napper
Waggy tailed, insect inspector
Nimble footed, munchy muncher
Winner, entertainer and energizer,

Hanging ears, so sensitive
Eyes expressive, so active
Our hunting, sporting companion
Our sniffing, rescuing champion.

His soulful eyes, full of affection.
But soon came his health deception
Suffering dreadful tumor, infection
All  endeavours for his protection.


He spoke but with passion
To who knew, how to listen
Our canine, God of fun-frolic
Suddenly silently melancholic.


Our firmest friend very sweet
Winner, a heartbeat at our feet.
His arrival, profound happiness
His passing away, sheer sadness.


Winner's oblivion, few decades old
His special memories, we still hold
He orbits in an unknown universe
In his memory, these lines of verse.

@Preeti Pathak

Every Monday when I face you.
Your ball-shaped absorbing eyes.
Your pointy little nose as I observe a mouse.
Your reddish hot-lip.
Astonishing colored auburn faded into fair curvy hair.
All in all a fascinating facade.
But at all, just a facade.

She drowns behind her mirror.
Broken under the surface of the ocean.

Too often I think about her, to help her.
I ask her what she thinks about the world.
I know she has rotten roots inside her.
Carries and buries them deep inside her.
That's why I want to help her.
Illustrate the importance of her.
Create an urge to live and love.

We see us eye to eye.
Ask her to figure her situation.
An incomparable conversation.
It's like apples and oranges.
I let her know that her style is magnificent.
I wanna hug her. After I asked
May I hug you?
She feels cosily warm and comfortably soft.

Slowly I realise that reality distorts my reality.
Confused, I realise that we never talked
together.
Swiftly, I perceive that we just looked
at each other.
Sadly, since we know that we like
to one another.
Finally, we admit that we are
broken beings.

THE ANSWER HERE IT IS!
writing in white is easier instead of speaking
because none of the words are real
consider a new use of margins

reliving reliving eight-teen and none of the snow hopefully
and none of the cold blue blue please makes me sad

IN MY HEAD EVERYTHING IN ARROWS AND ALWAYS
POINTING AT HEADS HEADS THUNK

HAPPY me in a supersonic spacious ship landed on earth really here
like really really here with my thoughts as roots around feet
stupid thoughts make me trip and fall my
hands scratched open and i scratch my arms open as well
nice old habit

stranger do you remain home cosily cosily do not trash yourself
do not log in your fingernail tips

so i can air myself in minus four and
think think think about paste paste paste

SOME REVELATIONS WHEN READING FLAUBERT:
-fantasy world is unsafe and real real world is fake and harm
-cry over made up situation every day
-IS THAT AN HYPOTHESIS?
-YES you are dumb and smart at the same time
-mostly: I AM SUPERIOR LIKE A BIG IDIOT

good friends
mere acquaintances like romanticising devoid of hope and despising with determination in one split second
...

Feast!
Death and Disaster!
Call in the mothers and fathers, my youth owns the streets!

After all that reminiscing about Friday,
I broke my computer,
I lay in bed,
Bleeding heavily,
Hysterically laughing,
Everything is fine.

cosily in bed
mum finds her reading a book
lover under bed

See the pain in his eyes as he stares into you.
Searching what cannot let you understand,
Steeling his eyes without fluttering.
It is not a coldness he has against you.

See how dry his mouth runs,
Still no water will make it right.
Seeking, probing with his tongue,
It is not thirst that plagues him.

See, because you truly can,
Settle down with him,will you?
Severe him no more,
It is excruciating what he has borne.

All he has ever done was to love
He loved you before he loved himself
You were so warm, so cosily warm
He would snuggle deeper,
and you would gasp gleefully
And that was a heavenly couple of months

But then you took a look at him when you could
And resented him that loves you with even what he does not have.
All you have to do is say "Yes,Son," when he calls you next.

Taste each word you give to me
Each syllable is kissed with a parting of the lips
Slipping down as a silk pillow softly soothing and resting my head
Nestling cosily into the fabric of warmth and luxurious feel
Surrendering my all to dreams of gold

To take care of you, help
others, perform projects of my own
undisturbed, without being troubled

by anyone or anything, or
being
obliged to anything

Show what I'm worth
and then do something
very different

Sit at home together
cosily on the couch
reading about adventures

and suddenly set out
just like that, being free
and still belonging

I want it all

Easy to sit in
Cosy coffin and

Pontificate
Upon the death of
Others-

Easy annihilation
Of
Self
So
Cosily confined

Christmas n New Year parties will soon start.
How I wish, of them we would be an integral part.
All I wish is, with you, I could cosily dance.
But destiny perhaps didn't give me a chance!
Joy immense it would be,  to be held close to your heart.
Heart beats synchronize would n of you, I would be a part.
For that special Xmas season, I have been waiting eagerly.
This endless long wait, seems to have been an eternity.
Darling, when will you come and offer me a dance ?
For that last waltz to last forever, will you give me a chance ?

Armin Dutia Motashaw

HOME

Here is where I always wanted to be.

Lord, Thankful I am to now here for longer be.

Away from noise,  and pollution I cosily here stay.

Read or music listen to I can,  as I in my cosy bed lay .

Home for me was and will always be  Heaven;

Happy I am, to live here,  twenty-four by  seven .

Armin Dutia Motashaw