Aaron LA Lux Dec 2017

As the sun,
starts to slowly rise over Sydney Harbor,

I stand alone,
looking out over the balcony & wonder,

why do we feed,
our future seeds,

poison in everyday things,
literally,

the ointment,
is the poison,

we focus on nonsense,
instead of what's important,

everyone on their laptops & phones,
feels like Attack of The Clones,

with skeletons in our closets,
& a backpack full of bones,

in pain from it all,
but when we complain we're fed Tylenol,

administered drugs from sinister thugs,
Woolworth’s is the main culprit,

we’re all going under,
& we probably all deserve it,

we’re all in trouble,
with nowhere to run to,

where will we go,
when we finally come to,

nowhere to hide,
from the Light of the Sun rise,
& this is the truth,
even if it doesn't sound right,

come to,
your senses,

we are all our,
own worse menaces,

tooth aches head hurts,
maybe I should see a dentist,

& I'm sorry for insulting you,
but the worst part is I meant it,

feeling all jolly,
all dressed up in our splendor,

wandering around all jaunty,
wanting to congratulate The Inventor,

for the exponential growth,
that’s occurred,

from obscure to a buzzword,
in less than a lightyear as space blurs,

& I wake up,
still awake from the night before,

to the lights of the Harbor,
upon a building built on a concrete shore,

in a city called Sydney,
built by criminals & slaves,
but I'm singling out Sydney,
because America was built the same,

as the city's lights slowly start,
to give way to the sun light,
of the new day I give praise,
& thanks to God for this fun life,

for this one night,
that felt like a lifetime,

gone now luckily I wrote some lifelines,
which I disguised as lite rhymes,

when really they're the right rhymes,
to free any imprisoned mind,

because the ship is still sinking,
but you’re still at the bar drinking,
& you're starting to get this feeling,
you've been caught & you start reeling,

& no one else is there,

no other drunken patrons,
everyone else is gone,
& you'd go too but you haven't a home,
no one's around not even a waiter,

and that’s when,
you discover these,
proverbs under the cover of these words,
& you find they're your savior,

as time tick-tocks,
you kick rocks like Kid Rock,
getting kick backs,
until you find right there,

that the Tic Tacs,
that you kicked back,
are actually a syntax of medicinals,
candy disguised as Lifesavers,

& just in time,
you find these quotes before you choke,
to get you to the right life boat,
now that’s what I call a Lifesaver,

& once I take note,
that you’re safely to shore,
I turn to go,
up Heaven's Elevator,

but before I go,
I give you one more quote,
& simply say to you once more,
“Goodbye For Now you can Thank Me Later.”.

∆ LaLux ∆

from The Sydney Sessions, available for FREE worldwide here:
www.scribd.com/document/367036005

on kindle and paperback here:
www.amazon.com/dp/1981605932

Available FREE through the link.
Aaron LA Lux Dec 2017

Welcome Home

Alone,
out cast in the in crowd,
heart beat,
beats through the break beat sounds,
leading me home,
war chants peace chants,
more drums lead me home,
home,
more of a fantasy,
than a reality,
haven’t had a home,
since I left my mother’s at age 14,
as we,
all march to the beat of corporate war drums,
poetry,
makes the madness seem more bearable please spare another poem,

Instagram hashtags,
the first lamb gets the last laugh,
epigrams and blood baths,
emojis and Adobe,
cronies as goalies,
bad math makes three halves,
empty proteins faux pas homies,
and ceremonies that feel phony,
see the hokey is pokey,
and Dopey’s all smokey,
7 Dwarfs one princess,
no support or precepts,
just for sport we shot at a bogie,
because the radar blipped,
life’s a trip,
let’s go half on a hoagie no baloney,
if you say you’re my homie then act like my homie,
don’t Facebook friend me then see me in reality and act like you don’t know me,

as we,

get lost in a narcissistic virtual reality,
where we are all voyeuristic spies,
I post a poem about all of this in totality,
and only get like 50 likes,
she post a picture of her face on a date,
and she gets 50,000 likes,
I don’t get enough respect for the words I write,
but somebody has to keep our words alive,

as the walking dead,
march to the corporate war drum,
I write a poem about it all,
nostalgic for the futuristic postmodern,
oh pardon,
did I offend your common sense,
well then,
you must be off balance with your oxymoronic opulence,

we are all narcissistic voyeurs,
voyeuristic narcissist,
caught up in polyamorous politics,
Demicans and Republicrats,
it’s dirt poor and filthy rich,
and that’s a fact but enough of this,
let’s get back to that,
let’s get back to that,
to you and me and that heart beat,
that beats as the orchestra’s score of our Soul’s soundtrack,

out cast,
in the in crowd,
heart beat,
beats through the break beat sounds,

leading me home…

I am already gone,
writing in the zone,

see,
we will all be free eventually…

Just give me a sign,
that there’s a Soul inside that shell,
Ghost in The Sea Shell,
Devils in the details,
so professional even when we’re wingin’ it they can’t tell,

oh well,

times up,

and I’m down,
your Highness,
so show me a sign,
that you’re still alive let’s,
see a wave of the hand or a sparkle of the eye,
so we can make this time the time of our lives,
as we dive free into thee divine design,
all thee preexisting lines are redesigned and redefined,
life,
in the prime,
high,
and alive,
alone,
out cast in the in crowd,
heart beat,
beats through the break beat sounds,
leading me home,
so say goodbye,
and Welcome Home…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

The Sydney Sessions available for FREE here: www.scribd.com/document/367036005

available on kindle and paperback here: www.amazon.com/Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps/dp/1981605932

New Book is FREE! Check the link in the poem. But can ONLY download/read it on a computer not on a phone. Much Love!
Aaron LA Lux Dec 2017

This City’s,
got so much electricity,
I don’t even have to turn the lights on,
to feel like the lights are on,

in a constant state of Neon Dawn,
in a nauseous state of Beyond Numb,
it's obnoxious how Far We've Come,
at the same time how Dumb We've Become,

being put to sleep consistently,
by the constant sound of electrical hums,

how come,
we willingly put ourselves here,
in these cities in these boxes,
locked in our own insecurities & fears,

how come,
we willingly put ourselves here,
specifically right here & now at 33 Ultimo,
an Old Soul braving The New Frontier,

how come,
we willingly put ourselves here,
specifically right here & now at 33 Ultimo,
that’s not a joke that’s the address here,

33 Ultimo,

a building,
built by tax evading Chinese,
hiding their money from their own country,
but I guess we all hide something...

∆ LaLux ∆

excerpt from The Sydney Sessions;
available worldwide for FREE here: www.scribd.com/document/367036005

And available worldwide for purchase here:www.amazon.com/dp/1981605932/

Aaron LA Lux Dec 2017

As the line between our private lives,
& the public eye blurs,
all the old paradigms dissolve,
& nothing becomes as it was before,

only a few months more,
to get this riddle solved,
feeling like The Batman The Joker,
& Lois Lane all rolled in one,

my new name is Nigiri,
on a roll hot like wasabi,
my threads are all designer,
& my hobbies are all hobbies,

I am definitely not sure at all,
well at least definitely not probably,

babbling’ with talking heads,
while jousting with the walking dead,
because we’re up right now up right now,
that's right the life of the party,

& you all probably already know all this,
because the whole time was Live recording,
Instagram Live Streaming all the time,
I'm dreaming at the same time touring,

every moment recorded,
even when it's not at all important,
off script but don't trip,
because we're still part of the program,

so before I even wake up,
you already know the whole thing,
you already know what happened,
the night before the morning,

the Knight Before The Mourning,

sounds a bit prolific & prophetic,
at least a little bit don’t you think,
but what’s it matter the least little bit, if no one takes the time to think,

they’re just getting their nails done,
in the salon in the bottom of the boat,
as it sinks & we just think,
“Well I hope at least the lifeboat floats”,

in a bit of a panic,
like Leo in the Titanic,
searching for my romantic Winslet,
before we both sink in this disaster,

see I see you drowning in this sea,
& I still love you even after everything,
so I swim over & my hand I outreach,
hoping you'll grab hold before you sink,
so I can backstroke with you on my back,
& swim us both to an island beach,

specifically Leo's island,
you know the one Blackadore Caye,
he actually asked me to run the island,
said it was just a bunch of palm trees,

& I know this is reality,
even though it all feels like a dream,
so I close my eyes pray for better times,
then open my eyes to focus & blink,

blink,

blink,

blink,

blink,

the camera is always on,
the recording is always running,
this is layer cake no this is pound cake,
no this is the first ring around the onion,

onions in the sink,
got my eyes running made me think,
turned the water off got a wash cloth,
then took a moment to blink,

blink,

blink,

blink,

blink,

as the line between our private lives,
& the public eye blurs,
all the old paradigms dissolve,
& nothing becomes as it was before,

only a few months more,
to get this riddle solved,
feeling like The Batman The Joker,
& Lois Lane all rolled in one,

∆ LaLux ∆

from The Sydney Sessions
the follow up from multiple # best selling author Aaron Lux
new book available for FREE here: https://www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps

Book FREE here: https://www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps
Aaron LA Lux Dec 2017

T-E-C-H-N-O-C-O-L-O-R-D-R-E-A-M-S-C-A-P-E

These days,
it’s all a Pre-Made Catch Phrase,
spending time like it’s money,
but don’t worry honey it’s all Pre-Paid,
can't ignore it pay it forward,
no room to breath fumigating I need space,
in the fast lane speeding,
all gimmicks no limits on the freeway,

thought you were forward thinking,
but you’ve got it all backwards,
we pay taxes to pay more taxes,
& that hurts like bad actors,

& I wrote this both as a protest,
as well as a a admission of submission,
because I can't help but to notice,
most of those that need help don't get it,

as I spy street cleaners from my highrise,
go through these means streets to pick up,
but street sweepers aren't enough,
not even heat seekers'll fix this mess up,
as things get meaner on the cold streets,
I'm still thinking things might nicen up,

& no street sweeper is mean enough,
to sweep this riff raft up,
no sir leave that to the mean Reaper,
what dreams are made of this's that stuff,

putting it all out there but,
no one cares because,
I’m not famous enough,
everyone out of luck acting tough,
& I used to give a hand & a damn,
but now I don't because I've had enough,

see I can write the most profound lines, humankind has ever paid mind to,
at least in modern day times,
yeah I can write those lines times two,

but really what’s the use,
of speaking the truth,
to these Consumerist Troops,
if they're all deaf dumb & mute,

tone deaf,
from the volume all the way up,
as they sit on their butts,
eyes glued to the tube too stuck,

& just to clear things up,

it’s Consumerism,
that's got us totally screwed,
not Communism,
I think you’re honestly confused,

& if you’re confused,
let me spell it out for you,

T-E-C-H-N-O-C-O-L-O-R-D-R-E-A-M-S-C-A-P-E,

that’s TechnoColorDreamScape,
AKA Reality TV,
that's living waking life,
in a dream state apogee,

& you’re the star,
& the jokes on you,
hardy har har,
& boo hoo hoo,

where’s all the honey gone Honey-Boo-Boo?

The bees left their colonies,
no pollen trees just insecticides,
no apologies for disrespecting,
these policies that allow us all to die,

but I’m not going out anonymous,
not at all I’m leaving behind this legacy,
so let it be known through prose and poem, that we left here with some dignity,

words used to mean something,
feelings used to matter,
emotions used to exist and hold weight,
mornings were only memories of laughter,
what’s become of the Good ‘Ol Days,
& what will be coming after,

these days,
everyone is caught in a catch phrase,
like a dolphin in a fishnet,
or a beach town in a sea wave,
or a Sinner in the Rapture,
or a deer on the freeway,
or a soldier in uniform,
during Operation Overlord on D-Day.

These days,
it’s all a Pre-Made Catch Phrase,
spending time like it’s money,
but don’t worry honey it’s all Pre-Paid,
can't ignore it pay it forward,
no room to breath fumigating I need space,
in the fast lane speeding,
all gimmicks no limits on the freeway.

∆ LaLux ∆

from The Sydney Sessions, the 8th book by multi-bestselling international author Aaron Lux, available FREE worldwide here:
www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps

The book is FREE to download here: www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps
Aaron LA Lux Dec 2017

We’re riding,
feels more like flying,
because this car,
feels more like a spaceship,

used to ride in a hybrid with eyes red,
now I ride a Tesla clean as a whistle,
used to use the pen as a sword,
now I use my laptop as a missile,

sorry I’m not sorry if I missed you,
didn’t intentionally diss you,
just been focused zoning on my poems,
keeping it going with my mind on the mission,

listen,

this is the future,
most are out to lunch better catch up,
this isn’t a damn it sandwich this is blessing dressing,
not an invalid salad but an important portion so pay attention when addressing us,

fck,
trying not to cuss too much,
but what the fck,
sometimes too much isn’t even enough,

probably heard that before,
probably didn’t know that was my line,
see when over a million people have read your words,
your words get rewritten time after time,

rewritten but not bitten see there’s a difference,
and yeah I know that the difference is a line and that line’s fine,
and it’s crossed when the message is lost and the spirit leaves the body,
but it’s not when I hear the words repeated in songs and I know those words are mine,

because when I know other people also know albeit sublimely,

I guess that’s what happens when your work outgrows you,
when you hear words you wrote in songs and quotes,
and it gives you that potent mix of anxiety and adrenaline,
which leads you to speeding by throttling the clutch like a throat,

heading north on America’s most west coast road,
going 100 MPH with no MPG up the PCH,
no MPG because the ride is all electric,
like we are running in this lifelong race,

racin’ with Jaden we ride out to our Topanga hideout,
got a whole 10 acre mountain top up there,
where we go to get ghost when we need to get away from foolish folks,
from their flashing lights Hellish cellphones and all their blank faced phony stares,

riding,
feels more like flying,
because this car,
feels more like a spaceship…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Aaron LA Lux Dec 2017

Melting under this Plastic World,
Mickey Mouse is a rat that ate the poison,
I feel this wave coming over me,
riding the tide like I'm Poseidon,

totally sick of this circus like Icarus,
flying dangerously close to The Sun,
I'm high in a high rise on syd in Sydney,
like Midas my God what have we done,

it's as if,
everything we touches turns to gold,
invested in,
IOTA last week this week it's up 10 fold,

BitCoin hit 15k,
here we go we're on our way,
bought in out of fear of getting left out,
like a cat in the rain,

feeling like a cannibal animal,
every dog has it's day,
working to the bone like a bog,
& we all want our $ at the end of the day,

when the work’s done,
everyone's gonna wanna get paid,
feeling mixed up in the middle,
half way between a master & a slave,

what a mess we’ve made,
& I’m not blaming any particular one,
I’m just saying collectively,
this feels like the eulogy of,

a civilization that's time has come,
& is almost done,
& yeah we might lose it all,
but at least we had some fun,

& oh what fun we’ve had,
but who'll be left to clean up this mess,
because all the cool kids have gone,
& you're the only one left,

like the morning after the party,
sunrises are never the same as sunsets,
had some fun times last night,
but this morning you're such a wreck,

sometimes only at crunch time do you find,
our failures disguised as accomplishments,

now who’s left behind to pay enough mind,
to clean up our post bliss mess,
not snotty nosed spoiled rotten rich kids,
who got gassed up on daddy’s cash,
they're crashed out at their pad now,
but we both knew they wouldn't last,

passed out on dad's couch,
can always tell the future from the past,

everyone’s,
acting like an ass,
jockeying in position,
for some corporate kick backs,

but if or when you get them,
they come along with a guilty conscience,
then tell me what good is that,
seems all these facts are just nonsense,

I mean really what good is this,
what good are all these words,
I guess these words are only worth,
whatever a words worth is really worth,

which at this point,
feels worth about as much as dirt,
but at least it's that good dirt,
that Mount Agung before it bursts,
that fertile volcanic soil,
that Mother Love from Mother Earth,

sure,

you might think you’ve got it figured out,
or at least you thought you did,
& now you see what’s coming now,
& the mess we’ve made of all this sh!t,

the drama we did with no apologies,
no apologies nor compliments,
no honor for the Honor Rollers,
nor for our awkward accomplishments,

and all I want to know,
is where the Hell honest went,
'cause all these dollars & all this power,
at the end of the day amounts to zip,

zero,
no heroes,
& as it turns out,
all of our idols are weirdos,

how's we go,
from Einsteins to Weinsteins,
from talking out our feelings,
to just replying with “I'm fine.”,

from Greek Gods to Mickey Mouse,
from Orwell's Animal Farm to Animal House,
from Mozart's 'Requiem Lacrimosa',
to Baha Men's 'Who Let The Dogs Out',

how'd we get from then,
to where we are now,

& you only want to talk about the weather,
or anything else that doesn't matter,
instead of what's really on your mind,
& how it's all almost over,

talking about what's for lunch,
while the world floods & burns,
not trying to be too negative,
just trying to help you learn,

because I know you think I'm cool,
but really I feel hot as Hell,
is it just me or is it hot in here,
is it just me or does nothing feel real,

like a Barbie girl in a Barbie world,
all dolled up & wrapped in plastic,
like I'm at at Disneyland on acid,
only about an hour & a half in,
& already I'm having a bad trip,
stuck on a boat on a fake mountain,
it's a joke that they call it magic,
trying to slow as everything goes faster,

but I'm not at Disneyland,
I'm just in a high-rise on syd in Sydney,
looking at the man in the mirror like MJ,
thinking I don't know that man who is he?

MMelting under this Plastic World,
Mickey Mouse is a rat that ate the poison,
I feel this wave coming over me,
riding the tide like I'm Poseidon,
totally sick of this circus like Icarus,
flying dangerously close to The Sun,
I'm high in a high rise on syd in Sydney,
like Midas my God what have we done.

∆ LaLux ∆

from The Sydney Sessions
available for FREE worldwide 12/12/17

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