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Jul 2013 · 799
The American Reality
Aaron Driver Jul 2013
A perpetual existence from 9 to 5
Live to work and constantly strife
to fulfill your Debt and monstrous mind
A colorless life of an unusual kind.

Lost in technicolor talking heads
The only moment of clarity comes after your dead;
Lovely, Long, Laborious days
A life made worthless for a little pay

When it's all said and done and all that is left
is a little bit of money and a lot of theft
A stone, a hole, and a forgotten name
A house, a car, and a lot of shame.
Apr 2013 · 728
Solitary radar station
Aaron Driver Apr 2013
Lying on an air mattress,  
in a metal box by the sea,
I can see them,
but they can't see me.
I watch as the numbers flow down the screen,
and the planes are painted in red and green;
A solitary station that no one sees,
How I ended up here is beyond me.
Choices made for some reason or another,
Isn't this the kind of thing you blame on your mother?
A brief look back through my time and crime,
Reveals so willingly how I ended up fine.
My action so slowly crafting my place,
My mind so cunningly setting the pace,
My body so completely embracing my path,
My conscience so silently withholding it's wrath.
Sep 2012 · 1.2k
American republic
Aaron Driver Sep 2012
Political policies; panhandled; purchased
Options? Opinions? Opted out
Like lemming lightly leaping
Instead interested in intre$t
Taken totally to the top
Individuals internally interrupted
Casually castrated, cautiously captured
Some sad sadistic soul
Sep 2012 · 6.7k
Communication
Aaron Driver Sep 2012
Communication/ medium of the mind
Improper transfer; difficult time;
Gears and pistons fire steadily
Words are formed and jump out readily
Filtered or not; good or bad
A possible high, or impossible sad
An idea new, bright, and free
A rain cloud of dark, of which you can see
The freedom erupts! The face celebrates
The storm corrupts, the eyes retaliate
A perilous game played (by two) together
An exchange we somehow all get through
A skill we improve with each Endeavour
Aug 2012 · 587
La Mosquitia
Aaron Driver Aug 2012
I strip to feel the soaking sun,
to drip the yellow glare,
beneath the blue and white laced run,
of daydream's clever snare.
This foreign land or greens and reds,
and horrid spots of black,
natures paint of words worth said,
and things worth taking back.
A natural land of unnatural tastes,
human filth piled high,
a wholesome way put to waste,
a self imposing lie.
Aaron Driver Aug 2012
i watch as the demand falls from his lips
with no Perhaps it lands on my(our) ears
the Eyes scream the finally of a weak will
and the body if fitting for such a small thing
my will cringes with Nothing and Everything
the Eyes flicker sadistic understanding
Instinct reminds the Always of the Never
and the commotion awakens Reality
my(our) swallowed must's exhume forever me's
reminding the Always of examples made
Jun 2012 · 1.2k
the Longing
Aaron Driver Jun 2012
the Longing

the Body in which I belong to
feels so worthless at times of Longing
images of you; the World but a veil over
my mental eye; for all I feel is you
Daily must of a second nature
justified by the Longing that makes me
weak; not in force but Will
for what is a Will that longs
but does not acquire?
to see the Sun glisten off the sweat
from my brow is to see your face
always apparent; Alive, Active
in every action and every part
to see and say nothing without
you in it, behind it, above it
the Longing is welcome; it embraces
who I am and reminds me where
I will always belong.
With you.
Mar 2012 · 673
modern dark age
Aaron Driver Mar 2012
Drop the lesson taught,
Consider the objective sought,
By the values almost burnt;
Only the ordinary is yearned;
Curiosity now deemed a crime,
Is pursued you shall serve time.
Master the lost skill of thought,
Things should be earned and not bought,
Dormant survival sealed in it’s grave,
Three days; resurrection; makes you a slave.
Intuition smothered with testaments of old.
Soon your spirit withers; dead and cold.
Life has no meaning unless given, no sense; impractical, instinctively driven,
Repeat a pointless existence; death is the only fact.
Aaron Driver Mar 2012
Absolute answers are atrocious,
Nothing can cover anything entirely,
Forget the testament of corruption,
Lost is practical thought.
The will to power is buried in instruction,
On how to live and what to believe,
A barrier erected; scarred by destruction.
No way to make a breach.
The others are trapped , at least from my perspective,
they perceive with their mind, for their eyes are useless behind a wall.
The see only up, into an empty sky,
The world is controlled behind their wall.
Forget the testament of corruption,
Than the wall, shall fall.
Mar 2012 · 543
love, seperated
Aaron Driver Mar 2012
Intriguing behavior without explanation,
Lost in though, confusion; invasion;
Raiding my mind of all lights,
Darkness creeps , no way to fight,
The questions arise with no answers,
I wouldn’t want to know anyways.

Ignorance may be the antidote to pain,
Intact is love, but there still is gain;
The experience, the memories, the absolute bliss,
Too bad it seems I lost it all for this.
Even though this gives me what I need,
I lost in you, my life creed,
It seems to occur in cruel cycles,
The loss of my love, my feelings recycled.
We drifted, it’s true, there is nothing I can do.
I’m trapped, I’m lost, I can’t see you,
I thought, again, I found a woman,
Who accepts time in portions,
Your life may freeze slightly till I return,
But freedom is yours, completely earned.
Not mine to own, reserve, or police.
I just hope you’ve found peace.
Mar 2012 · 693
desert desperation
Aaron Driver Mar 2012
Heat simmers; not a sound heard
The shadow beneath the camouflage dances across the table
Sand wisps beneath the sun
My thoughts as heavy as the heat
I sit and look at the ground, my heart like lead;
My cigarette only distracts my attention
It sill lies with you;
Through anything I may do; I pause;
I see your face, I hear your voice, I feel your touch, I covet your words
And yet, the heat still simmers and I;
Simmer with it. The sand wisps as do my hopes.
Mar 2012 · 496
ice and eyes
Aaron Driver Mar 2012
On a deep gray sky
The soft rain filled wind
And the dancing blades of rye

As life emitted through joy
In a place filled with too much
The person who emerges complete
And the icy heights he touched

Your existence in it’s entirety
All of this and more
A glance in the green windows of your soul
Express nothing but greatness
Mar 2012 · 549
everyday
Aaron Driver Mar 2012
I love, I’m sorry, I’m happy; Just fine.
Vacant, common, in line.
Greetings that say what will not be spoken.
A beacon of the broken.
Communication of the everyday man.
Special as far as an everyday plan.
But what is expressed everyday?
Only that it is there.
Feb 2012 · 965
america
Aaron Driver Feb 2012
Words arranged through other’s egos
Plethora of personal shop windows
Designed by one who loves ego most
Reproduced on a sickening scale
Pictures show worthless lies
All tailored for ***.
Perhaps they will grow to learn; or Die?
One of which I know will occur first.

A life like this is all but life
Existing in cruise ship grandiose
Lost in narcissism; who pays when you are a *****
Whose biggest customer is yourself?
Others feed on your looks and holes
What are you to them really?
They  most certainly aren’t feeding on your mind.
Success is gauged by a bias meter
Measuring your ability to rely
Physical attributes; a smoke screen alike;
Your life but a cheap end flight
Buy your ticket! Wait in line , bland is the word of the day.
When the flight is over make way for the next
Pray your not on there when the **** crashes.
Isn’t that what you all worry? That you’ll be there,
To see how you turn out?
It’s best you continue to sleep
You would wake to find your angels and demons never were
Who would lead you then? The plane was on autopilot,
The whole **** time.
Feb 2012 · 1.1k
Deployment
Aaron Driver Feb 2012
Sippin' on a Proper English beer,
In a desert not unlike my soul,
My mind is heavy and all but clear,
And my heart is far from whole.
I'll smoke another, and drink my few,
I'm shaking with anxiety at the thought of you.
I'll walk back silent,
Eat alone,
The sadness defiant,
I reach for the phone.
From my desolate outpost your voice emerges,
My thoughts go out through space.
The emotions rise, control my urges,
I ******' hate this place.
You must return to your daily must,
Your voice is gone; I'm alone.
I watch the sky as it turns to dust,
A Cigarette; Solitude; is where I'm prone.
It's odd to me to sip a beer,
And feel the way I do,
The rocks reflect my soul here,
The only color blue.
Aaron Driver Feb 2012
Traveling miles forward to I (am)
Collected ghosts of My (self)
A why echoes without a because
Instead have prods with what if

A smile reminds (have) value of
Moment immune to (what) if
Piled between bloodied (if) victims
Future stained moments immune

I (am) has roots in shallow soil
My (self) anchored in must
A stranger emerges of familiar echoes
Contradict is something I trust
Feb 2012 · 695
systematic survival
Aaron Driver Feb 2012
Dance, for the cruel, Dance.
For time long past later will show,
How much better it was if they didn't know,
the plans to one day stop the charade,
To bear my teeth and no longer parade,
My life until I turn to dust,
A life of servitude, a must;
For the poor will serve,
And always deserve,
but never receive,
and always deceived,
Lost is true direction,
The system sought to ensure survival,
Has indeed killed us all.
Feb 2012 · 777
practical instincts
Aaron Driver Feb 2012
The sun rises; My mind clears,
The dew reflects; My feelings mirror,
The similar sight of clouds erased,
My dreams evaporate with due haste.

Brought down are now the daily must,
Routine induced, prescribed rush,
the only factor plucking my mind,
Be intuition found, no need to find,
Coincidence is no way practical;
But, fate, could be only decided,
I've seen that the facts are rarely, factual,
Considering what's accepted is usually invited.

Existence is exactly what it doesn't seem,
You have been taught someone else’s fanatical dream,
Forget the excuses used to close your Eye,
As the sun sets, look toward the sky,
There, you see, as my mind stumbles,
darkness divides, my feelings fumble,
Have you seen a cloud cross beneath the night?
My dreams share these qualities of un-observed flight.
Feb 2012 · 697
possible
Aaron Driver Feb 2012
The day drags on with painful speed,
My mind bogs down in unquenchable need,
The wishes and dreams saturated with life,
Hope dull luster; callused with strife.
Society pulls me further down,
Motivation to escape no where to be found,
Time passes; Dreams no longer carried,
When you’ll pass, they’ll find you’ve long since been buried.
Feb 2012 · 590
ouroboro
Aaron Driver Feb 2012
Heads will roll, when the end is near,
Gone will be love through fear,
The stars will ascend to their former approval,
The old will collapse, hasty removal,
Subject to their own suppressed  will,
Finally enlightened, themselves they ****.
Feb 2012 · 724
taken out of context
Aaron Driver Feb 2012
Pull back; Prisoner of Spirit torn by circumstance,
Behind, at large, we mention to no one,
The end protrudes relentlessly, the future retreats;
Time is leaking, waste with no measure.
Unknown is the occurrence; soon if ever,
Take a leaf from the prophet,
Forget what matters most; frivolous is concern.
The world is yours; We just live in it;
Politically correct or out of pity?
You selfless fools know your fate,
You decide through your pity to jump.
Feb 2012 · 1.4k
vultures in your skies
Aaron Driver Feb 2012
When ego expresses it social desire,
Narcissistic; compulsive liar.
Wrapped in wants needed by others,
To fulfill a followers spirit.
The lake is shallow, the shore eroded,
Life; nothing more than insects and vultures.
To feast on a rotting spirit
Noble creatures who drink from this lake,
Lingering taste; sickness they take,
A parade of dark unknown.
To taint a soaring spirit
Susceptible solely to simplicity,
Their web; a shop window of complexity,
A world to themselves, attempt at trust,
Leave them behind; this you must.
Feb 2012 · 556
now's and then's
Aaron Driver Feb 2012
Circumstance induced thought
Separation unearths the truth
The web of now’s in which I’m caught
Spun, so slowly, in my youth.
The future is but a Child's collection
Full of the now’s and then’s,
The past, if subjected to inspection,
Will yield the children to men.
Forget what you were taught,
Subscribe to what you learn,
Subtle motives, control sought,
Follow what you’ve earned.
Feb 2012 · 749
the distant clock
Aaron Driver Feb 2012
In so much as my mind allow,
Shall time flow here and now,
Perception perceives involving dissection,
Correction conceives excluding deception.

Learn to burn,
Fight to yearn,
Creative churn,
Inverted urn,
Ashes swept,
Instead of kept,
Forgotten forever,
Pointless Endeavor.

Think for me,
The activity,
The situation,
Concentration,
To be or not to be.
The will to power,
secrets lost,
or maybe never known,
gravity controls us all,
more solid than stone.
Your god is there,
Deep in your head,
Personal agenda disguised,
My mind, no god,
Practical thought,
There nothing you will find.

My mind, wander,
lost in sunlight,
Confined longer,
Than most can handle,
By most, mostly,
I mean the others,
For we are all but normal.
Forget your life you had before,
For it is long buried,
If you wish to discover more,
This much, you will not carry.

Consider briefly,
Your inner value,
altered; slightly?
Roughly handled?
Maybe reversed,
destroyed or mangled,
replaced and conversed,
No longer tangled.

— The End —