It's as though through letting ideas slip away into nothingness
I've died countless times:
unrealised, unfulfilled, unsatisfied.
Their last scream of agony devoid of substance,
reverberates through me,
Reminding me that
I've neglected to death that which could've filled me.

I sit alone quietly watching,

An ego of sand trickles down
each grain a like on a tweet, a seen video.
Aren't they really smart? The people who make these things?
Promised to make me golden,
And I am, indeed.
Just as cold and saleable as that.

NO no,

I keep trying to claw my way out.
It's taking too long, why isn't it working?
Hands getting weaker?
Nails dulling out?
Or maybe I've never had anything sharp on myself to begin with.

The worst is that I'm not alone in this
And most of you seem content.
Living being made to obey
With grains of dopamine being thrown around
as we dance to catch each in our mouths.
Not much different from these poor animals at the circus.

Let's cut this short.

Aim big and don't expect a praise or prize soon after you start.
People aren't brands and brands aren't people.
Let's learn to enjoy the ride more than the destination.
Good luck, I believe in me,
I believe in you.

With tender eyes
You tenderize me,
meat hooks sinking in
with the looks
that guide the
knife that slices
with each touch of skin
the cold metallic table,
unable yet manic
falling apart,
panic attacking
with each touch of the blade,
the butchers art,
taken from a stable,
for the sake of forsaken fables
feeble chunks,
fragments made into saleable pieces
the heart aside a different species
in a bucket,
It'll make great sausages.

432 was the amount
of a crushing defeat
for 202 Toe Rags.

432 is a symbolic figure
for Ireland and not a
poetic metaphor either,
it was the date St Patrick
arrived here from Boulogne
Sur Mer in Northern France,
where it was a tradition of the
local mariners to paint a shamrock
on their fishing boats.

432 has often been associated with
the 4 provinces and 32 counties.

John B. Keane's "Field" was 3 Acres
1 Rood and 32 Perches, a classic
representation of Ireland.

202, or TOT will become iconic also,
not as a number, more the word!

               <>

TOT  |tɒt|
verb (tots, totting, totted) [ no obj. ] (usu. as nountotting) Brit. informal
salvage saleable items from dustbins or ******* heaps. local authorities frown on totting.

I said you weren't my type.
I just dissed.
You looked like my brother.
So I didn't want another.
A mistake
my heart you would just break.
Real love you can't fake.
I didn't make myself available or saleable.
99.9% of Americans are stupid.
I know Ariel and a part of the 1% that isn't.
America is filled with drug addicts, homeless bums, perverts, ******, nuts, thieves, tramps, cons, ******, pimps, stalkers, greed, sin. ignorant, immoral, bad, cheating and low life people.
Who are liars, sick, mentally deranged, angry, crazy, *******, poor people.
European, English, British, Irish people
seem different, better, hard-working, proper, classy, distinguished, polite, considerate, thoughtful, moral, high class, honest, rich, intelligent, generous, caring, loving, good, modest, straight, wise, home owning, business managing, educated, family valued, sane people who are not corrupt or worldly.
Homebodies, farmers working class, civil, helpful, fearless, strong, nice, friendly and secure.
I hope to know some of them.
Get their luck of love and wealth.
A peaceful, quiet, happy home.
Of family & love & security.
Friends, money, fame, respect, loyalty, trust.
Land, bank, work, food, shelter, & clothes.
Shade from the Sun,
Warmth from the cold
A hand to hold.
Love to share with somebody who will care. Somebody to adore.
Who doesn't make me their *****.
Someone who gives me gifts.
One who doesn't just drift.
A guy who acts with swift.
One who puts me first.
Who never makes me feel the worst.
I want them to be number one.
Someone who's not dumb.
Not just together for the fun.
Not after a few years will be done.
One who will last forever.
One who is clever.
One who doesn't say never.

The smells of lilacs, hyacinths A+ grade
Singing Sade smooth operator
A Bed money growing on the tree
in her shade
Fifty shades darker pick your lover
And know who is the shady mentor

We got enhanced our bodies
like the prancer the globetrotter
Flaming heats he's the romancer

In trance-like money commodities
So hooked on a feeling, her bedroom eyes
The hot velocity eyes set to the sunset
tranquility
uncontrollably, Colliegable. sometimes
unbearable, you could read her
French Provential
bed of the Constable

His food like rich money for the soul for
his taking she is the loving so able
A-Bed saleable but
very innocently gullible under rulable

Seeing the Oak trees cherry blossoms so feasible
The sponsors  and teachers of the  Princeton University
their beds were racing minds Einstein like Cougars'

The shades of her lips raced his money abed
Like Truman said Romeo and Julliete lovers
You all attend this Gala or the jokes on you Ha Ha
She felt like the Medusa head on the side of her bed
The stars moon Luna Bleu she was the coolest
of them all

Going to the ball what a head start to lie abed
like a loaf of soda bread the fairest of them all
The revolution led to a disaster up ahead
She loves to drink in her ladybug mug abed
He was the slug a dug like two men in a
Volkswagen yellow Bug

New Abode 777 lucky hicks of the road
Sticks and stones won't break her
bed bones
Her money abed Apple I phones
Her spyware secret agent ****** tunes
Became a showroom
New York City hot fun in a bed event
What did Confucius say
The British Colony

Money ABed it wasn't payday
Without the money no company

The Budha insight
After hours all A-Bed hell of a night
Lullaby Lula Belle the dictator came
Seeing Antionette with her tea ***** set
The State trooper the day tripper
Overnight A-Bed traveler looper
What a commutator acts like the
green alligator Grecian times
Chariots and Titans
Purple passion the
liaison his name is Devlon
This wasn't a cosmetic mistake
like Revlon strangers in the bed
Like a head of the lettuce seedy felon
Skin peachy clean like a melon
The Estee Lauder dictator
Attention Riveria head beaded bed
For the Queen of Sicily
Borghese bewildered like a pony
The platter of cheese Gromit

Or going to the Estate sale for all
the Kingsmen **** it
The money jars of Mason
by his water (ABed Bitcoins)
The holy water he got thirsty
Mighty high bed of the mutiny
Humphrey Bogart here's looking
at you kid and well fed
What looms ahead
Those wedding bells
She said I rather stay in my
Feminine Flower
Tulip A-MEN Bed

Her key to the trunk treasure bed
She bunked into God her virginity lifted
the gravity of her sexuality
Her cheeks came alive
like a  plum pie
Money A-Bed to be wed

You might not be tall
You might not be good looking
You might not be wealthy
You might not have a six-pack
You might not know poetry
But if you have a non-saleable and compassionate soul
You have everything..
...'coz a wonderful soul is the most beautiful piece of poetry that can ever exist
Layers and layers of goodness
Piled one upon the other
There's chocolate with vanilla
Oranges and peaches too
The body withers and weakens
But the soul is evergreen
The soul speaks without even saying a word
The soul defines you
The soul represents you
The soul is your true identity
Value your soul
Protect your soul
Fill it with all the goodness you can
'Coz it is what makes you a true man

Big brother; surveilled; rat runs of pounds;
Instaweb orbs, tendrils confound,
Face timely chats across coded binary,
Clocked on, logged in let it begin;

Around and around the wheels about town,
The daily homage to tubes underground,
Whistlestop lunches, lanyards and passes,
Payslip available labour force saleable.

PIN, Password, Face recognition,
Upload, drawn down, robotic volition,
Subdural naked forced aspirations,
Chasing dragons of faked motivation.

Push and chug and push and chug,

The relentless surge of more from above,
Steady inbound for disembarkation,
Life's sourjourn of self realisation.

FAMILY DAY

Oh how I miss those days, so beautiful,  so  memorable !

Everyone so  closely knit was,  loving,  caring,  adorable

Everything n everyone, all  relationships were so  informal.

Life now is so formal, almost painful, just about tolerable

People today are more independent,  monetarily stable.

To live in luxury and style, with facilities many, they are able.

Without their own dear ones they are actually more comfortable.

Sadly, these days, family values are fading off, almost saleable

Lord,  give us  back those wonderful days, so beautiful  and memorable.

Armin  Dutia Motashaw