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Aaron LaLux Sep 2019
Screen Crack [16]

Jesus!

What the fck,
wait, Jesus,  has nothing to do with this,

your hands glued to the latest PDA device,
hands glued along with your eyes,
seems you cling to your PDA  for dear life,
like it’s as important as a TAH, what’s a TAH look it up,

it’s a Total Artificial Heart,
you are the “art” in artificial,
since when did Personal Displays of Affection PDAs,
get replaced with Personal Digital Assistants,

no way phones could be the new PDAs I can’t accept that,
oh well I guess it’s the perfect sign of the times,
people used to show affection & kiss in public,
now they don’t even notice & the only kisses given are emojis,

no romance they don’t even hold hands show love or show up,

would rather ******* in silence than deal with this,
& maybe that makes me part of the problem,
see I could go out & try to socialize but I stay inside instead,
& don’t even mind ‘cause most people aren’t worth the stress,
plus it’s been so long since I’ve been in a relationship,
if I met someone I wouldn’t even know what to say anyways,
we replaced Empathy with Apathy eye contact with iPhones,
now we’re all bored Cyborgs & alienated Androids,

we keep avoiding each other instead of enjoying each other,  we keep assuming we are annoying each other,
which prevents us from successfully joining each other,
so we effectively self isolate ourselves from one another,

one step closer to an Anti-Social New World Order New Age,
every time we become afraid & walk away instead of engage,

would rather scatter than talk to someone,
in a way that could be construed as rude,
so we just walk-on & ignore every single someone,
even though one of those someones is you,

in the Narcissistic Network of this Sociopathic Society,
where the only certainty is that this cycle of denial is ******,
what the fck, totally stuck, mind fckt & ******,
into that lil cancer causing PDA your hot little hands hold,

Steve Jobs got cancer,
you think that’s a random freakin’ coincidence,
people that work with electronic devices their whole lives,
get sick & this is not just a few examples of isolated incidents,

it’s not a rumor that consumers get tumors from electronics,

even Stevie Wonder could see how Stevie Jobs got sick,
died in his mid 50’s alone & in bed thin as a stick,

all those billions couldn’t save him,
so what makes you think you’ll survive,
why should I care how you live if you don’t care how you die,
think you’re saving time on that portable electronic device,
but you’re living a lie wasting your life not saving your time,
because no one ever regrets spending less on screen time,
but people often regret not spending more time,
in nature attention undivided with loved ones by their side,
before they die, going to do you a favor, save you the trouble,
of spending your whole life chasing things on a digital screen,
I’m going to quote Steve Jobs’s last words here,
so you can start making changes now before it’s too late.

“I have come to the pinnacle of success in business.
In the eyes of others, my life has been the symbol of success.
However, apart from work, I have little joy. Finally, my wealth is simply a fact to which I am accustomed.
At this time, lying on the hospital bed & remembering all my life, I realize all the accolades & riches of which I was once so proud, have become insignificant with my imminent death.
In the dark, when I look at the green lights, of the equipment for artificial respiration, feel the buzz of their mechanical sounds, I can feel the breath of my approaching death looming over me.
Only now do I understand that once you accumulate enough money for the rest of your life, you have to pursue objectives that are not related to wealth.
It should be something more important:
For example, stories of love, art, dreams of my childhood.
No, stop pursuing wealth, it can only make a person into a twisted being, just like me.”…

See, now you’ve heard it directly from a genius,
so there you go don’t say I didn’t tell you so,
still you hear the final words of a brilliant billionaire,
& instead if take his advice you say “Who cares?”,

& that is actually a serious question, who cares?

Probably not me or you so why would we heed a warning,
no matter how wise the words were that were wrote,
we’re too busy trying to find fake treasures on Pokemon Go,
or read the latest news or scroll the latest posts,

seems all those Apples & Androids, have made us apathetic,
bit the forbidden fruit, in The Garden of Electronic Eden,
**** streaming has replaced actual ***, it takes less effort,
exchanged intimacy for IoT, replaced *** with EMFs,

no ******* just internet no farmer’s markets on weekdays,
just products on eBay & freebased sympathy that’s synthetic,
so we don’t feel the vibration of our brothers & sisters,
we just feel the vibration of our phones in our pocket,
we don’t notice the signs of our civilization in decline,
we just notice our phone’s notifications when they go off,

see the more connected we become to the virtual world,
the less connected we become to the actual world,

& I’m having a melt down,
witnessing everyone on their cell phones,
& I want to find a reason to believe in a real person to love,
but I feel like hope is gone & we’re all just lost without a home,
& I’m just as guilty as the rest of us,
‘cause I’m often also lost in the zone on my phone like a drone,

& I’m not religious but maybe we really do need Jesus,
maybe I really do need Jesus,
what the fck, wait,
Jesus,  has nothing to do with this,

a whole new generation of users has been created,
through the use of new additions of cell phones & laptops,
& some of the users are as young as 8 years old,
computers are the new & improved evolution of crack rock,
but family’s are so used to their kids using that they just shrug,
even though their kids are so addicted that they can’t stop,

some even enable kid’s addiction by buying them new editions,

cracked screens from dropping your phone,
gives you a minor heart attack,
oh how attractive cancer seems when it’s attractively wrapped,
in the form of an impersonal personalized phone case artifact,

Silver, Gold or Grey, SnapChat is the new black.

What the fck, hands glued to the latest PDA device,
hands glued along with your eyes,
seems you cling to your PDA  for dear life,
like it’s as important as a TAH, what’s a TAH, look it up,

look up look up,
you are alive in a body on these beautiful lands,
mathematically a 1 in 400 trillion chance of being born,
you’re literally the most amazing miracle you could ever have!

There’s a whole world out there,
please find someone to get to know & love,
because there’s probably someone right next to you right now,
that’s willing to give you their all & it’s obvious,

all you have to do to see is set down your phone & look up!
If you’d only just look up!

But, you’re too busy playing Pokemon Go to notice love,

I know, we’re part of a 1st World society,
& we all play our part by being passively compliant,
in order to be an accessory to our country’s atrocities,
so we get dressed up with the latest techno accessories,

I know,
you don’t want to think about it too much,
because then you might feel guilty, so you stay out of touch,
keeping your head down like you’re mourning a lost love,
there’s an actual psychological condition for this,
Cognitive Dissonance is what it’s called,

so you stay on your phone, not wanting to get involved,
because it’s easier to simply not feel,
won’t even make eye contact just want to be left alone,
because you’re conditioned to fear anything that’s real,

insecure & scared of the unknown you cling to your phone,

even though,
it’s the things we’re most comfortable with that usually **** us,
cars cigarettes alcohol cell phones,
I’m telling you addiction to technology is a serious illness,

as we begin to decay into a mediated medicated mental illness.

Do you even remember,
what you did on your phone yesterday,
do you even remember,
what you did with your emotions yesterday,
do you even remember,
when the last time was you felt real emotions,
do you even remember,
the last time you did anything to help the world?

What is there left to believe in when nothing feels right?

Feels like,
we are losing touch with everything that makes us human,
emotions experienced in artistic expressions are leaving,
we have no attention span & cyborg robots do most thinking,

as we steadily slip into an artificial abyss remember this,

I Love You,

& it scares you when I tell you,
like all real emotions scare you,
& then I tell you I want to take that phone you hold,
& throw it into the ocean,
& you finally look up from your phone after all this time,
stare me in the eyes glare & say, “How dare you!”,
like you’re defending your phone,
as if it’s a part of your very existence you were born with,
like you’d hate a fellow animated human,
for destroying an inanimate object, that’s the Devil’s trick,
because when we’ve lost all emotions only hatred lingers,
desperate I’ll take hatred over nothing if that’s all that’s left,

& I’m the biggest hypocrite of all,
because I say all this about technology,
but here I am writing these words on this laptop,
& offering advice but not offering apologies,

maybe I’ll really realize someday,
when someone shakes me & wakes me from my digital daze,
either that or when I’m all alone about to go home in the sky,
on that death bed quoting the last words of Steve Jobs,

“Stop pursuing wealth, it can only make a person into a twisted being, just like me…”,

Wow.

Can you hear me now?

No you probably still don’t hear me,
because you’re likely on your phone reading this right now,

your hands glued to the latest PDA device,
hands glued along with your eyes,
seems you cling to your PDA  for dear life,
like it’s as important as a TAH, what’s a TAH look it up…

∆ LaLux ∆

poem #16 from THHT3: The Hollywood Hills Trilogy 3
available worldwide here: www.amazon.com/dp/B07XJRBSKD
Sean Achilleos Apr 2018
A constant emptiness
A need to want
The want to be needed
The need to be wanted
An oasis of nothingness
Grasping into open air
Everyone's on their own mission
Everyone's on their phone
How brilliantly terrible this is
Nobody has anything to say
In a restaurant everybody is looking one way ... down
Consumed by technology
My best friend
My best friend called Phone
To Love might make you complete
To be loved might make you whole
But who needs Love? Who cares?
As long as you have your little god to hold, right?
But in virtual reality the world can be cold
Spending all your time and energy
Like a battery run down you shall grow old
And don't count on anyone to hold!
Written by Sean Achilleos
30 April 2018©
www.facebook.com/SeanAchilleosOfficial/
Amazon: Sean Achilleos 'An Affair with Life' The Philosophical Poems of Sean Achilleos
YouTube: Sean Achilleos

Sean Achilleos' Music is also available on the following platforms:
Amazon, Apple Music, iTunes, Deezer, Google Play, Pandora, Saavn, SoundCloud, Spotify, Tidal, YouTube Content ID, YouTube Art Tracks and Jango Radio

Sean Achilleos' Book 'An Affair with Life' is also obtainable from the following platforms:
Smashwords, Amazon, Wordery, Kobo, Exclusive Books, Takealot, Loot, Overdrive, Bokus, Barnes and Noble
Aaron LaLux Mar 2018
The internet’s not going to save you,
not sure why you keep thinking it will,
logging on Googling “Redemption”,
action’s only possible if the thinking is real,

yes we’re in The Matrix,
no I don’t care how you take it,
why am I only paying attention,
when both of us are naked,

everything’s so boring,
and most of it’s unrelated,
I’m not sure if she’s sure if she likes me,
we’re not sure what time and space is,

all we know is,
one simple equation,
there’s too little time,
and too much spacing,

to close on time,
yet too far apart,
I’m looking at you,
you’re looking at the clock,

but actually,
that’s a half true,
or as they would say,
that is Fake News,

because actually I’m as distracted as you,
logging on and Googling “Truest Truths”,
hoping maybe before I log of I can save me,
even though we both know the the truth,
the internet isn’t going to save me,
and it’s sure as heck not going to save you,

but what else is there to day,
it’s Saturday night I’m alone in LA,
almost feels like things were meant to be this way,
I see her so clear even when her image begins to fade,

which I suppose is appropriate,
in the City of Angels,
like seeing wings on a being,
but just at the right moment and angel,

Corporate Patriotism,
www.abannerstarspangled,
don’t forget the dot com,
we’re all the same equation just different angles,

feeling like God,
or at least Hermes with wings on His ankles,
or souls on his feet or Achilles with all His feats,
a Warrior for Love with a weakness at the ankles,

don’t hold me back I need to fly,
into the sunset a bet less romantic than Icarus or Sure,
because it seems at the end of the day,
Heaven is Both ocean and fire,

now before we go please one last quote,
and that’s don’t let yourself be chained to desire,
even though if I said that I also wasn’t ******,
and chained to desires as well well I’d be a liar,

and we don’t need lies,
what we need is truth,
and the truth is the internet,
isn’t going to save you,

the internet’s not going to save you,
not sure why you keep thinking it will,
logging on Googling “Redemption”,
action’s only possible if the thinking is real…

∆ LaLux ∆

Free Book Available Here: www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps
Mark Lecuona Dec 2017
I don’t want a domestic engineer
I don’t need to live off your career
Only the things I know and feel
But cannot say unless you are here

I don’t need more than two candles
And shadows on painted toed sandals
Only the things that a smile can feel
And never spoiled by doubting vandals

Every girl has a man waiting somewhere
That’s how she keeps her interest to herself
I’m gonna’ have to change her point of view
Instead of me she takes pictures of herself

I don’t want to just pass the time
I don’t want how are you I’m fine
Walk past me looking too busy
How can I unclutter your mind?

Every girl has a man waiting somewhere
That’s how she keeps her interest to herself
I’m gonna’ have to change her point of view
If she’ll just look up she’ll see something else
as the sun burns
bright and radiant,
it shines on a world
that keeps turning
under blue skies
that match the
ocean in color.

the wind will push
the swings on an
empty swing set,

the fences will
remain unpainted,

bicycles will
no longer parade
down the streets,

the elbows and
the knees will
remain unscathed

and somehow
they get by
without ever
knowing
the answers
that cell phones
can’t provide them
Emma Nov 2017
We are absorbed
From one click of a button
To 5 hours of life
Reliving a cycle every day
Thinking it can’t get any better
The more followers
The better life
Only posting what you want
And not letting them see the other sides
Pictures only there for a moment
Then washed away never to be seen again
When moments could be spent better
Long lasting moments
With no worry of a time limit
Instead we are made robots
Dependant on 5 inches
Missing what life has to offer
Too afraid to leave them at home
Because you you may miss a notification
You never cared about anyway
Making life easier every generation
Thinking the only way to make friends
Is by chatting online
Getting a reply
But waiting 5 minutes
Because we are too afraid of seeming desperate
Walking right past someone
Who you could have shared your life with
But instead your head was faced to the floor
But of course
The floor is more important than a person
But this item smaller than your hands
Somehow gained a power to control us
Hooked us into this trap
That is too late to run away from
Forgetting the date and saying it didn’t remind me
Will be the only excuse
And family, friends, and people
Will no longer be an option
Soon we will all walk around with tubes in our ears
And goggles over our eyes
Seeing a virtual world that must be greater than what we were given
Meeting people but never seeing them
But it’s fine
Because we have all we need between 5 inches
Aaron LaLux Nov 2017
Tourists touring temples taking #selfies,
body’s there but souls not,
like Techno Ghosts back from the future,
not here to save the world just here to take a few shots,

but my body is my only temple,
and true enlightenment comes from the absence of Self,
so selfies seem silly to me,
in the same way as trying to wear pants 2 sizes to big without a belt,

or I guess a better analogy would be,
trying to wear a heavy belt without a buckle,
and that thought’s deep better yet heavy,
like Axel Rose those thoughts are heavy metal,

which makes sense especially if you’re an alchemist,
and believe what the Kyballion says about how everything’s metal,

yeah that’s heavy,
heavy as Heavy Metal rock,
being played by the US Army,
in Baghdad with the volume all the way up,

all the while spraying heavy metals,
in order to weigh down moral,
but what does any of this have to do with #selfies you ask,
well listen and I’ll tell you,

narcissist egos created this mess,
force used to push an agenda,
because when we’re too focused on our “selfs”,
we lose sight of the big picture,

like taking #selfies at temples,
and not seeing the beauty around you,
like drowning out the sounds of nature,
with the playlist on your iTunes,

it’s all kinda ironic isn’t it,
it’s tough having morals when complicit in any empire,
so I try and escape to exotic landscapes,
like Malagasy rainforests or Tibetan Temples,

but when I get there I find,
to my disappointing surprise,
a bunch of tourists on their phones,
only remotely living their lives…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Aaron LaLux Nov 2017
Always have my notebook with me,
‘cause they say the pen’s mightier than the sword,
so I’m trying to cut through the tension & the red tape,
with the power of these words,

on the ledge of The Razor’s Edge,
resisting these suicidal tendencies to jump,
feeling like Darrell with these quarrels,
trying to catch some feelings before we all go numb,

on the leading end of the Cutting Edge,
going for the gold like Doug & Kate,
& I know it took awhile but I’m here now,
my only hope is that I’m not too late,

leaning out on the leading edge,
deleting friends and repeating trends,
with suicidal tendencies and telepathic technologies,
already wrote the whole message just need to hit SEND,

as we immerse ourselves in these alien technologies,
and submerse ourselves in Emotional Anthropology,
all this done as a Road Scholar not a Rhodes Scholar,
no PHD or GED just knowledge for free without the college degree,

a one man School of Thought & class is always in session,
which is why I always have my pen with me,
as I write instead of type these thoughts,
before they become digital originals on your hand held screen,

same way that cash is becoming cryptocurrency,

holding my emotions in the palm of your hand,
which is kinda why I write these diatribes,
to remind you I’m alive inside and not yet fully an Android,
even though I’m on an iPhone feelings like an AI,

& the machines still need me,
because The System still needs you,
& AI still hasn’t found a way to be AEI,
can’t create Artificial Emotional Intelligence moods,

can’t be you not even with YouTube,
can’t be I not even with iPhones,
can’t sing a song or hum a tune,
can’t write anything close to something like this poem,

and that’s the truth and I’m not trying to be rude,
but I want to smack that phone right outta your palm,
‘cause Palm Pilots have us all on auto pilot like drones,
feeling like Luke in Episode II: Attack of the Clones!

& I just wanna go home but the closest thing I have is a home button,
it’s just Me, Myself & I on CBS with the All Seeing Eye & my iPhone,
got me wondering if this is all an act and the whole globe’s frontin’,
as I die inside while writing these diatribes they never miss you ‘till you’re gone,

& that’s exactly why I write these poems,
that have that melancholy testimony feel,
because everything feels phony on these phones,
and I just want to connect with some one or something that’s real,

so I write these Melancholy Testimonies,
as a discourse of our crash course that occurs sans remorse,
without recourse either of course because there’s no reverse,
plus we dig our own graves so it only makes sense we drive our own hearse,

& you can dispute if you want to,
but can’t really argue with truth I’ve done my research,

I mean I’m at a restaurant right now,
watching two guys eat together without even having a conversation,
they haven’t even looked up from their phones once,
I assume they’re friends but you wouldn’t know it by their lack of interaction,

eyes & attention given complete to their iPhones or Androids,
stuck in an upright fetal position head down neck cricked back bent,
which makes me want to stand up & warn them that if they don’t change their ways,
one day they’ll wake up dead and wonder where their live’s went,

we’re almost there folks,
take over almost complete,
& yeah maybe it took awhile but just ask Kurzweil,
we should have Singularity by 2040,

and I’m still writing,
trying to figure out how to defend humanity against defeat,
feeling like Sarah birthing this poem like Sarah birthed John Connor,
& we’re almost all goners as we all honor The Rise of The Machines,

but before we go,
please remember one thing,
that these Creative Arts were/are/will be,
our Last Bastion of Humanity,

because a computer can draw maps,
but can not draw a painting,
a computer can write codes,
but can not write poetry,

and that my fellow human,
is exactly why I keep writing,
to remind us to stay human,
& take a stand as we defend this Last Bastion of Humanity,

& I do this by always having my notebook with me,
‘cause they say the pen’s mightier than the sword,
so I’m trying to cut through the tension & the red tape,
with the power of these words…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
10/11/17

Jenny Gordon Oct 2017
FIRST:  the poem which inspired...oh, yes, laugh--it's reminiscent of, of, would that be the old "the house that jack built"? ie, Joshua Amos Graff/aka Graff1980's poem--

Graff1980
4h@18:04, 29Oct17
Untitled

The phone store
is closed,
but I can still see
the sharp blue glow
of those
bright screens
blinking out at me
from the window
to the streets
where I am walking slowly.
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2187429/untitled/

SECOND:  the comment his poem inspired and which he too generously told me I "should post."--

[He said Jenny Williams]--Like a ghost none sees, catching the lurid eye of those eyeless windows to the black hole of an eerie yonder, the speaker treads as if slippered through the darkness which itself is alive and aware, the scene commonplace, yet rendered thus with a poignant ghastliness, a delicacy. Thank you for sharing.

THIRD:  the sonnet which I told him I'd endeavour to compose from that same comment, yet which is a frustrating reminder why as Stella Armour was it? told me years ago she did NOT want to force thoughts into sonnets, and I heartily concur:  I'd far rather pour the unformed thought into that "most exquisite form of poetry" than try to squeeze a complete thought into that "gilded cage"--

...for Joshua Amos Graff's poem--



(sonnet #MMMMMMDCCXXII)


Likeas a ghost none sees where streetlamps fence
The blacker shroud of night, how in betrayl
'Non catching lo, the lurid eye's detail
Of those more eyeless windows harking thence
Unto the black hole of an eerie sense
Of yonder, how you tread as if t'avail
Now slippered through the darkness which in pale
'Scuse ah, itself's alive and 'ware.  What hence?
You only put down for the page as twere
That lonely walk through naked streets left to
None else.  Yet where dead cellphones look in poor
Excuse out, la, you render thus anew
What's common, but whose ghastliness in tour
Is poignant, delcacies I cherish.  You?

29Oct17a
Haha, I gave my notes in laying this out, frustrated upon completing this sonnet because, as wont, it has lost the tantalizing thought's keen sense which provoked it, the thought itself being formed as it tripped out on the screen under my fingers, a thought I never had until the keyboard rendered it up, yet which now punishes me for forcing it out of existance into a sonnet.  *cue a wry smile*
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