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He said I was anything
He wanted me to be
I broke through hours
Of visiting rooms
Open caskets
Dreams of tombs
I ripped the fingers from my
Bleeding
Maybe it's too soon

Inexplicably he found the facets
Of my neurotic
Triggers too
Satiated
Too expendable
Left me
To wrinkle and dry
In the stale porcelian tub
Never really grasped onto
Why I was so numb
My mind is mine,
at least I think it is,
but my body honestly,
I’m not so sure,

see I left home,
a runaway,
and most of my past,
is totally blurred,

sometimes I look at my hands,
and think they’re not mine,
sometimes I see my parents,
and think they’re not mine,

and I feel trapped in here,
like a Ghost in a shell,
and the only way I know to get these messages to you,
is through these letters I spell,

like a message in a bottle,
sent by First Class Mail,
letters messages bottles,
it’s all adding up as far as I can tell,

and I’d explain it all,
but I don’t want to get too specific,
it’s not that I’m scared I’m just not sure,
which side I’m on and to which alliance I’ve enlisted,

so I continue to just write in code,
to spell sentences with these letters,
ABC’s are my 1’s and 0’s,
because I program Emotionalist,

and that’s Emotionalist,
not Emotionless,
there’s a difference,
please make a note of it,

note,
letters,
here we go again,
for worse or for better,

they made me a weapon,
but not the kind that kills,
they taught me how to destroy,
by teaching me how to build,

see whenever I feel anxious,
and people tell me to chill,
I tell my self to behave,
because it’s just the Ghost in my shell,

see my mind is mine,
at least I think it is,
but my body honestly,
I’m not so sure…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Her light was extinguished by the dark
In a sudden implosion of madness,
And all of the stars that once dusted her sky
Now lie as the dying embers of what used to be
Her fiery soul.
Autumn.
The leaves are turning
brown and gold
Then fall.

Autumn.
It's about leaves and trees
Leaves leave trees
Trees are left. Naked.

But autumn
is more than the story
about 'leaving' and 'being left'.

Autumn
is the story about the trees
that is never worry
of being left by the leaves.

Autumn
is the story about the trees
that is never afraid
of letting go all things,
and being happy afterwards.

Because the trees know
there will always be
the new and better leaves
grow on them in spring.

And being left is actually a way
to a better coming...

-Kanya Puspokusumo-
http://doeniadevi.wordpress.com .
/\    ○   °  ○
'
    ○°    ()   °○
()       °○
                 /\
     °○      
~~~~~~~~~~~

no fruit to bear
no seed to spring
no animal
no living thing
no blade of grass
no hand to toil
no rain can last

on barren soil


SøułSurvivør
(C) 6/11/2017
Thanks to rivers for inspiration!
As I sit . . .
green leaves hang . . . motionless . . .
~our earth spins on it's axis over a thousand miles per hour~

As I watch . . .
adagio grasses bow in repose . . .
~our earth orbits the sun over sixty-six thousand miles per hour~

As I rest . . .
vinca vines trail unruffled . . .
~our solar system whirls around the milky-way over five-hundred thousand miles per hour~

As I wonder . . .
flowers pose placid and serene
~our milky-way hurls headlong over a million miles per hour~

In my garden . . .
stillness reigns resolute . . . amidst this unimaginable tempestuous maelstrom

I am called to witness this defiance;
this static anarchy against the universe's irresistible momentum
I am surrounded by leafy verdure in stock-still solidarity;
blossoms colored with un-budged boldness
and tendriled vines in composed contempt
I am called to witness this unperturbed mutiny against torrid irascible forces

As I sit . . . musing on this peaceful anarchy

I think on He . . . that humble anarchist
waging peace against war
love against hate
grace against revenge
His submissive cheek immovable against brutish forces

I sit . . .
peacefully content in my garden of Eden
unmoved . . .
by the celerity of this careening world


geo.vuy 2015
I would have no universe without you
drawing me tight
in centrifugal embrace

Without your vows of devoted attraction
I would be flung ~ unsung
into black groans of space

But for the quest of your pulsing heart
I would expire ~ diminished
void of light

You chose to dance with my imperfections
my frenzy ~ in submission
spiraling in delight

In passionate embryonic fusion
you held me  ~ a spec  begotten
my inner darkness ~ forever  forgotten


gv.   1.2015
(Spect.   A single photon emission)
Music:  Speck Of Dust by Fellows
There was a fly who only had one eye.
He lived a simple life on the River wry.

One day the fly with only one eye began to cry.
I'm very lonely he said to himself, I feel as though I've been left on the shelf.

From out of nowhere an Elf appeared, an Elf who had only one ear.

Your not alone the Elf did shout, come on over let's hang out.

The Fly with one eye flapped his wings and said loudly so the Elf with one ear could hear,  I'm going to try to fly to the other side of the river wry.

The Elf with one ear said do not fear I'll be your eyes and you'll be my ears.

But half way across the Fly with one eye gave a big sigh and said  to the Elf with only one ear, I do fear that I will not finish the ride to the other side of the river wry.

Do not fear said the Elf with only one ear.  With my perfect eyes I can see that half way across in the middle of a bog on a log are a frog and bee, surely they will help me.

The Elf with only one ear shouted loudly to the frog and bee, can you please help me?

The frog and the bee shouted back "gladly".  But the Elf who only had one ear could not hear the reply from the middle of the river wry.

The Fly with one eye heard the reply and shouted as loudly as he could muster "the frog and bee have agreed gladly to help you and me"

The Elf with one ear was relieved to hear this and set about outlining his plan.

The Fly with one eye would flap his wings and start his trip across the river.

The frog would jump up and down on his lily pad and make a noise which sounded like ribbit, ribbit, the Fly with one eye and the Elf with one ear would use the frog for direction, tuning into it.

Once the Fly with one eye had passed the frog by the bee would set about buzzing loudly, the fly with one eye and the Elf with one ear would follow the buzzing to the edge of the river.

The plan worked the Fly with one eye gave a shout hip hip hip hooray.

The Elf with one ear gave three cheers and the frog and the bee clapped merrily.

Hooray said the Fly with only one Eye and the Elf with only one Ear, let's get all our friends together and bake a cake to celebrate.

The Fly with one eye looked at his friends and knew that life would never be quite the same now he could count on his new found friends, the Elf with one ear and the frog and the bee were like one big family.
For my grandchildren Tansy, Alfie and Roman.
I love
that you
love

The things
that you
love

Even if I don't

Could you do the same for me?

If yes

What great lovers
we
could
be....
Don't you go running
with the scurvy dog fools
Or you will become
A scurvy dog too

Don't go running
with the beasts
of the fields
Or there will be
a bigger beast
waiting for you

The big bad wolf
He's been knocking
on your door
Looking for
another fool
that He may
soon devour

You thought
you could escape
the evil clutches
that now ensnare
But the devil done
got another **** fool

Laughing and unaware

For your eyes
now in death
have a cold
and glassy stare.

-R.

8.29.17

-LA
©ASGP
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