Big Brother probably has me blackmailed,
for something I did in practically a past life,
never was one for playing the back field,
always more than kinda liked the spotlight,

plus I was comfortable it,
look how smooth I moved,
a fine guy a good man,
a bad boy but a cool dude,

not the type to stress you out,
or mess about and be rude to you,
nope no ma’am not him so how,
did they blackmail him oh well boo hoo,

can’t cry over spilt guilt,
can’t die over pet regrets,
you’ll survive that’s why they call it will,
not Smith’s kid but gifted yet no stress I’m set,

so let them watch me,
if anything they’re probably protecting me,
the New World Order has to have a face,
call me The Not So Anonymous Conglomerate of Everything,

stop freaking out everything’s fine,
and I can’t think of anything to do about it but type,
maybe make love do a few drugs,
then get back to the grind,

lost my mind,
tell me have you seen it,
it’s dark in here and there are cobwebs,
call me a cab I don’t have to be convinced I mean it,

Jesus,
Mary and Joseph,
I wouldn’t even believe I wrote this,
if I wasn’t the one that was there when He wrote this,

he as in me but anyways,
it doesn’t matter nothing does these days,
might flash a wave as we roll by on the freeway,
but other than that I don’t have much free time,

wanna know a not so abstract fact about Yours Truly,
sure why not let’s get to the plot of this movie,
I’m still living with my regrets,
can’t shake em like an ocean swim and I’m still wet,

this might not be a movie but it definitely feels like a movie set,

I guess,
all these screens I’m seeing these days has me confused,
I don’t know the real me nor do I know the real you,
I mean I thought I liked you but then I met YouTube,
and now well I just don’t have time hope I’m not being too rude,

it’s just these days I spend more time on computers than I do on you,

or with you,
and I’m sorry it seems it’s easier not to care,
go out this days and see Fifty Shades of Gray,
but not the shades that come with underwear,

the shades,
that come with disconnection,
as what used to be turn on tune in drop out,
begins getting spun in the opposite direction,

drop in turn out and turn off,
and this is the part,
where I don’t know if I should continue,
or if I should just stop,

so I stop,
don’t want to do anything I’d regret,
because I know They would love to blackmail me,
and they would’ve already if they had something to blackmail me with,

but they don’t having anything to use against me yet,
as I squint my eyes and focus on the TV set,
okay it’s not a TV it’s a computer but what’s the difference,
gosh this has been one heck of a ride are we there yet,

I give up let’s get going,
I’m ready to get off this ride,
leave this confused amusement park,
maybe go for a five day trek outside,

camp under countless stars,
lay on my back and gaze at the sky,
where I can be safe and at peace from the breath of the beast,
no screens nor cameras no intrusive spying prying eyes,

just myself with the Creator,
“Thank God I’m Alive!”,
then take another breath in and end with,
“Peace To All See You On The Other Side.”,

hi,
I too am in this experimental life,
please remind me of your name,
and enlighten me as to why we’re alive,

Big Brother probably has me blackmailed,
for somethings I possibly did in a past life,
never was one for playing the back field,
always more than kinda liked the spotlight…

∆ LaLux ∆

Free book available here: www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps

Well I guess They got Kanye,
I suppose They’ll get me too one day,
and I can try but can’t get away,
because They get everyone eventually,

hundred years ago we were all playing flutes,
we’re all guilty as charged even without proved,
and then we player ourselves that’s the truth,
because those in control have nothing to prove,

They pull up the trains and tell us to move,
get to your job gotta quote to fill,
these politicking capitalist are making me sick,
and maybe I’m one too and that’s why I feel ill,

but I’m better than that getting better in fact,
and that’s why my cup overrunneth when filled,

to the brim ballin’ all in,
swimming in sin still blessed as Mary The ******,

first programmed device was invented in Baghdad,
but we’re all caught up in this narcissistic sentiments,
we’re in The Greatest Time in Human History,
and all you can think is the narcissistic thought that “I’m sad”,

Yeah we’re all sad,
and that’s our own fault,
got me mad as a cam in Baghdad,
which I guess was the results,
of being over optimistic with bad math,
and being on the war path with a cult,

but what’s they cult called,
does it even have a name,
and how’d it get Kanye,
and what’s it gotta do with J?

Well I guess They got Kanye,
I suppose They’ll get me too one day,
and I can try but can’t get away,
because They get everyone eventually…

∆ LaLux ∆

Big Brother probably has me blackmailed,
for something I did in practically a past life,
never was one for playing the back field,
always more than kinda liked the spotlight,

plus I was comfortable it,
look how smooth I moved,
a fine guy a good man,
a bad boy but a cool dude,

not the type to stress you out,
or mess about and be rude to you,
nope no ma’am not him so how,
did they blackmail him oh well boo hoo,

can’t cry over spilt guilt,
can’t die over pet regrets,
you’ll survive that’s why they call it will,
not Smith’s kid but gifted yet no stress I’m set,

so let them watch me,
if anything they’re probably protecting me,
the New World Order has to have a face,
call me The Not So Anonymous Conglomerate of Everything,

stop freaking out everything’s fine,
and I can’t think of anything to do about it but type,
maybe make love do a few drugs,
then get back to the grind,

lost my mind,
tell me have you seen it,
it’s dark in here and there are cobwebs,
call me a cab I don’t have to be convinced I mean it,

Jesus,
Mary and Joseph,
I wouldn’t even believe I wrote this,
if I wasn’t the one that was there when He wrote this,

he as in me but anyways,
it doesn’t matter nothing does these days,
might flash a wave as we roll by on the freeway,
but other than that I don’t have much free time,

wanna know a not so abstract fact about Yours Truly,
sure why not let’s get to the plot of this movie,
I’m still living with my regrets,
can’t shake em like an ocean swim and I’m still wet,

this might not be a movie but it definitely feels like a movie set,

I guess,
all these screens I’m seeing these days has me confused,
I don’t know the real me nor do I know the real you,
I mean I thought I liked you but then I met YouTube,
and now well I just don’t have time hope I’m not being too rude,

it’s just these days I spend more time on computers than I do on you,

or with you,
and I’m sorry it seems it’s easier not to care,
go out this days and see Fifty Shades of Gray,
but not the shades that come with underwear,

the shades,
that come with disconnection,
as what used to be turn on tune in drop out,
begins getting spun in the opposite direction,

drop in turn out and turn off,
and this is the part,
where I don’t know if I should continue,
or if I should just stop,

so I stop,
don’t want to do anything I’d regret,
because I know They would love to blackmail me,
and they would’ve already if they had something to blackmail me with,

but they don’t having anything to use against me yet,
as I squint my eyes and focus on the TV set,
okay it’s not a TV it’s a computer but what’s the difference,
gosh this has been one heck of a ride are we there yet,

I give up let’s get going,
I’m ready to get off this ride,
leave this confused amusement park,
maybe go for a five day trek outside,

camp under countless stars,
lay on my back and gaze at the sky,
where I can be safe and at peace from the breath of the beast,
no screens nor cameras no intrusive spying prying eyes,

just myself with the Creator,
“Thank God I’m Alive!”,
then take another breath in and end with,
“Peace To All See You On The Other Side.”,

hi,
I too am in this experimental life,
please remind me of your name,
and enlighten me as to why we’re alive,

Big Brother probably has me blackmailed,
for somethings I possibly did in a past life,
never was one for playing the back field,
always more than kinda liked the spotlight…

∆ LaLux ∆

Man,

Man has certainly caused too much hurt already,
abused every position of power,
in every possible way,
turned outrageously courageous women into inwardly awkward cowards,

how awkward,
that Man would attack,
the very Ones,
that birthed Him,

how many wars have woman started,
how many drilling expeditions have been led by females,
but then again I guess it’s fitting that Men do the drilling,
wanting to enter into Mother Earth the Devil’s in the details,

see Men always seem to want to enter everything,
like a Hermit Crab into a seashell,
and I’m a Man so I share the guilt,
which is maybe why I don’t feel well,

see I am so ashamed,
and sometimes I’m embarrassed I even have a *****,
I regret so much Collective Man’s past aggressions,
like a past life regression I still have visions of my bad decisions,

and I’m tired of making bad decisions,

heck I’m tired of making any decisions,
I’m tired of leading expeditions,
I’m tired of going to a beautiful place like a lake,
and when I go there all I do is start fishing,

why do I have this impulse,
to catch beautiful things,
to bait them then hook them then take them,
why do I find the meaning of life to involve killing?

No problems will be solved if they involve,
taking the life of a living being that’s not willing…

What’s wrong with me,
are all Men predators,
do all men want to conquer mountains,
hook fish and eat steak cooked ****** rare?

This blood lust is just fckt I few us with disgust,
all this forward progress thinking seems backwards,
I mean even this otherwise beautiful blank space here,
can’t be left alone without me wanting to add ink black words,

well blah blah blah,
and hardy ha ha ha,
it’s so sad I’ve gone mad but I’m still glad,
because the home team’s still winning rah rah rah,

got all the trophies,
got all the glory,
got all the medals,
got all the power,

all the Women have been laid,
all the Beasts have been slayed,
all the Money’s been made,
all the Players have been paid,

I’m the King Don Juan Gansta Baller Man,
KDJGBM for short,
I got girls at every club,
and players on every court,

got gold chains,
and money wads wrapped in rubber bands,
got a flashy car complete with leather trim,
it’s fitting when the skin of a cow wraps around the ride that I’m in,

given that we’ve killed the Holy Cow to get the cream,
because we don’t hold anything sacred anymore,
well nothing except for the All Mighty Dollar,
made all this money but don’t know what we made it all for,

I guess we made more money to make more war,
treated our fellow Men as enemies and our fellow Women as ******,
I guess absolute power does corrupt absolutely,
and at the end of the day really what was it all for,

because once we’ve neglected every Woman in our life,
and treated wrong every Woman that ever treated us right,
and we’re all alone at home dying in our own body with no one by our bedside,
who will we run to to nurse us back to health and hold us tight,

that’s right,
likely a woman,
so when will we realize,
we can accept them without having to understand them,

Women,
are meant to be accepted not understood,
Men,
have done enough bad already it’s time for some good,

I know I for one am ready to surrender,
let the Women have control,
because I no longer trust myself,
to keep dear everything we hold,

so I open up,
I surrender,
I let the Feminine in,
and I let Love conquer,

because,

it’s time for some healing,
and that’s not going to come from the Masculine,
the only way we’ll collectively heal our humanity,
is with the Most High power of The Divine Feminine,

it is finally time let the lead be taken by Women,

Man has certainly caused too much hurt already,
abused every position of power,
in every possible way,
turned outrageously courageous women into inwardly awkward cowards,

how awkward,
that Man would attack,
the very Ones,
that birthed Him,

how many wars have woman started,
how many drilling expeditions have been led by females,
but then again I guess it’s fitting that Men do the drilling,
wanting to enter into Mother Earth the Devil’s in the details…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

The New Book Is FREE Here: https://www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps

Met a ******* Tinder,
fck it we’re all Winners,
not thirsty but I’m starvin’,
so baby tell me what’s for dinner,

what’s in the oven where’s the lovin’,
give it all to me raw no apologies no filter,
it’s V-Day I’m as depressed as I am on my B-Day,
still giving you raw lines uncut with no filler,

and yeah Love gives life,
but she’s also a killer,
stupid Cupid’s got me dreaming lucid,
still I feel salty as a Biblical pillar,

like Lot’s wife in that one verse,
in Genesis 19,
yeah I guess lots is how much love hurts,
get healed then hurt again,

kinda like my life on Tinder,
swipe left swipe left swipe right,
kinda like Duck Duck Goose or Musical Chairs,
not looking for a lifetime just looking for a night,

a temporary solution to a permanent problem,
some foreign aid in the form of a band-aid on my bleeding heart,
can’t fix the problem but sure can relief the symptoms,
at least for the night when we forget this earth and get lost in the stars,

so I’m searching,
swiping on that Tinder app,
hoping to find true love,
or at least something that resembles that,

because my hearts got some holes,
and I’m hoping someone can fill them,
like my souls got some demons,
and I’m hoping someone can **** them,

what’s happened to society,
and how’d we all get so lonely,
especially in the age of social networking,
everything seems superficial even this poem feels phony,

like when I get liked on Tinder,
and I reply with “We matched want to meet up”,
and I pretend I’m fine with no worries,
when really I’m feeling totally beat up,

Jesus,
don’t know if I can come step back from this ledge,
feeling frozen paralyzed like a bad app,
when you can’t scroll so you just refresh,

and get a whole new lists or prospects,
a whole new set of potential matches,
another chance to build something grand,
out of the burned past and all it’s ashes,

and that’s when,
I come back to the present,
now where were we oh yeah,
it was Valentine’s Day and I was on Tinder again…

Met a ******* Tinder,
fck it we’re all Winners,
not thirsty but I’m starvin’,
so baby tell me what’s for dinner,

what’s in the oven where’s the lovin’,
give it all to me raw no apologies no filter,
it’s V-Day I’m as depressed as I am on my B-Day,
still giving you raw lines uncut with no filler…

∆ LaLux ∆

The New Book Is FREE Here: https://www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps

No Valentine

Happy Valentine’s Day,
so fckn cliche,
no Valentine,
no sublime,
no feelings of ecstasy,

no we just me,

alone,
once again,
faced with my own thoughts,
and the deafening sounds of this silent hotel room,

I’m alone,
and I probably deserve it,
this is likely my proper karma,
the emotional toll paid in full all cash no credit,

the piper being paid,
for every heart I’ve ever slayed,
for every good girl I’ve ever played,
for every time I left when she wanted me to stay,

they were good girls,
they didn’t deserve it,
I was a bad boy,
and didn’t even know it,
I guess the only thing worse than breaking a heart,
is not even realizing that you’re the one that broke it,

she loved me,
most of them did,
and I left most of them,
with scars and sorrowed sentiment,
and I apologize in all honesty,
even though heartbreak was never what I intended,
but breaking a heart is breaking a heart,
no matter whether or not the Breaker even ever meant it,

this is what happens when there’s desire,
but for lasting love their’s no incentive,
like a dozen roses ready to go,
with the postage paid but with no place for the sender to send it,

as this sick cycle signals,
it’s time to either heal this or end it,
as these deep wounds burrow,
this can only be described as deserted and desolate,

chocolate,
hearts,
melt,

in the Sunshine of Time,

thoughts,
of her,
felt,

as they frolic through my mind,

no Valentine,
probably won’t have one,
until I’ve paid in full,
for every good girl I ever left,

so I likely have a few more heartbreaks headed my way,
because I’m not yet done paying off this debt,

and I’ll pay,
and I’ll pay,
and I’ll pay,
I’ll pay until there’s nothing left,

and then,
hopefully,
at that point in time,
I will finally find the girl out there that I know somewhere exists,

the one that’s been doing time like me,
the one who’s broke just as many hearts,
the one who too is paying off her relationship karma,
by repeatedly getting her heart broken apart,

even though we know what they say,
you can’t turn a bad girl good,
but once a good girl goes bad she’s gone,
forever,

whatever,
either way she’s out there,
and even though I’ve never met her,
I know I already love her,

that girl that no longer wants to be a player any more,
I don’t want to be a player anymore I just fck a lot,
no Big Pun intended but everything else I meant it,
writing this Love Letter on Valentine’s day with no where to send it.

Anyways I know that ex-player turned good girl exist,
and she feels just like I do in this exact instant,
she’s somewhere alone paying off her debt,
for all the guy’s who’s hearts she broke even though she never meant it,

and now,
she feels like I do like ditto,
tired of playing the field,
just looking for a solo love that can be true like bingo ,

and one day we’ll meet,
and we’ll probably get married but no kiddos,
because 2’s a company but 3’s a crowd,
and that’s one thing that both of us still know,

that’s why I write this out loud with,
the hopes that she’ll find these words right wherever she is,
and she’ll find me somehow from this love letter,
like a message in a bottle sent from an island and found by a ship,

and when we finally meet it will be love at first kiss,

this,
is what I hope for,
no more promiscuous ***,
nope no way no more,

I’m a born again ******,
holding out until I finally meet that Apple of my eye,
and until then,
I’m not dating anyone no way no how nope no Valentine,

because I don’t deserve one,
won’t until I’ve paid off this debt in full,
for every good girl that I’ve ever left,
still hold no regrets even though I’m lonely as Hell,

so I likely have a few more heartbreaks headed my way,
because I’m not yet done paying off this debt,

and I’ll pay,
and I’ll pay,
and I’ll pay,
I’ll pay until there’s nothing left,

until I’m totally spent,

but until that time I’m alone,
once again,
faced with my own thoughts,
and the deafening sounds of this silent hotel room…

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

Free download of the new book here: www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps

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

∆

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 *****’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

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/

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

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 ****,
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 *******,
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

Supposed Supporters

And yeah sure she’s gorgeous,
amongst the praise of all her supporters,
but at the end of the day what difference does it make,
when most supporters don’t even know why they support her,

what makes you so dang important,
yeah I’m special too but I don’t beg for supporters,
but I suppose in a way neither do you,
which brings us back to the point that’s important,

which is and the end of the day what’re you really supporting?

∆ LaLux ∆

FREE E-Book Available 12/12

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 ***,
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 ****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

Chilling but can’t rest,
it’s chilling to know nothing lasts,
living in the most beautiful nightmare,
making peace with the demons in my night terrors,

still trippin’ on the man in the mirror,
lost a bid in an auction for a Michael Jackson self portrait,
made 10 times profit at the same time from BitCoin investment,
best way to describe me is a mix of emotions I guess,

getting texts from Budapest,
my favorite Lover telling me to get some rest,
it’s 5:45pm there and 3:45am here,
I’m in Sydney and she’s in Budapest,

I’m up all alone Down Under,
doing shows putting my emotions in prose,
had a show tonight where I spilled my soul,
right there on stage I’m such a clumsy muse,

but I digress,

still depressed that I’m not more famous,
even though I’m known as one of the most known wordsmiths,
writing my words in verses that are almost perfect,
found a way describe our vibes in a way that’s well worded,

my poems are more known than me,
people know my name but not my face,
been read over a million times,
still only have around a thousand friends,

still few really know me,
even though my words are read by many including you,
which is kinda like,
liking someone for what they are not who they are,
note to one's self,
if you really love someone take the time to get to know them,

was asked what famous is,
answered by saying it’s when,
more people have heard of you than you’ve heard of,
well if that’s the criteria I guess I’m famous then,

and now that I am,
I have to be careful to not let fame become obsession,

or I might go on the same road as Michael,
Michael Jackson,
light my hair on fire then die all alone,
from an overdose of pain killer prescriptions,

yes I guess I’m famous now,
or at least my words are,
because over a million poem have read my poems,
but I’d say I’m more of a planet than a star,

anyways I definitely don’t have a million friends,
only 1300 to be exact if you check my Facebook stats,
1300 real ones that know I’ve got their backs,
and that my friend is a fact,

because “I only accept friend requests,
from people I know in real life.”,
that’s a message you’d get from me,
if you requested to be my friend and don’t actually know me,

anyways where were we?

And why am I write this diatribe?

It’s now 4:00am,
my mind is wandering my words are rambling,
and I need to get some sleep,
because everything’s starting to feel extra strange,

chilling but can’t rest,
it’s chilling to know nothing lasts,
living in the most beautiful nightmare,
making peace with the demons in my night terrors…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Might Put Out A Surprise Book For The Holidays.
Anyone Know An Artist That Can Design The Cover ASAP?
∆

I still long for you,
no time too long no distance too great,
still out here writing my heart out in these verses,
on these pages as the war rages sounding cliche,

still going to fancy pants dance parties,
although I’m not sure exactly why,
because while everyone’s on the middle of the dance floor,
I’m alone in a comfortable corner writing these lines on the side,

and we both know I try to substitute you,
with all these other girls,
but I told you before for you there’s no substitute,
because these other girls are just “other girls”,

they are not you,
they do not understand our artistic plights,
that’s why when they ask what I’m writing about,
I don’t even want to attempt to try and reply,

but if I do reply when they ask what I’m writing,
as I’m in that comfortable corner writing these lines on the side,
I either abbreviate my emotions by simply stating I’m writing poems,
or if I do go into detail I just tell them a lie,

I tell them,
I’m writing about the world,
when really,
the truth is all I’m writing about is you,

in solitude,
not trying to be rude,
I’d just rather be alone writing these poems,
than be with any other girl other than you,

in a solitary confinement of my own design,
because I locked my heart away and lost the key,
then found that surprisingly you’d found the key,
now you’re the only one that can break my heart free,

because,

I still long for you,
no time too long no distance too great,
still out here writing my heart out in these verses,
on these pages as the war rages sounding cliche,

still going to fancy pants dance parties,
although I’m not sure exactly why,
because while everyone’s on the middle of the dance floor,
I’m alone in a comfortable corner writing these lines on the side…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

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 ∆

Keep Your Head Up,
I Still Love You,
Always Have,
Always Will.

∆

There is always a Light at the end of the Tunnel,
the darkest time of Night always comes before the first rays of Day,
there's always a Rainbow after a thunderstorm,
and the strongest skin there is is that which has been scarred...


∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
poet/traveler/human
best selling author

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
∆

Who cares who shot JFK I wanna know who shot Tupac,
who cares about the CIA's JFK Files release date,
it’s 2017 and I’m on a plane watching All Eyez On Me,
flying westbound outta the Westside of LA,
on All Hallow’s Eve and it’s all feeling kinda spooky,
because I’m on this plane with another Libra The Boy Drake,

and I don’t care who shot JFK,
I want to know who shot Tupac,
met Suge two times and got the feeling he didn’t,
plus when they hit Pac even Suge got two shots,

so who shot Tupac,
as I write with all I’ve got,
in red ink as my red eyes blink,
pen lines looking like blood drops,

all eyes on me,
until my eternal slumber,
but enough about the words,
what about the numbers,

75 million albums sold,
713 songs,
7 films that’s 777,
same as the title of the latest book I put out,

seems Tupac and I,
share a mutual obsession with the #7,
plus his last album Killuminati was subtitled 7 Day Theory,
not to mention the fact that Pac was shot on September 7th,

as I trace the early similarities,
between me and Tupac,
I think back to when I almost signed with Suge,
and I too feel like Tupac,

I too was raised in New York,
I too got put on in LA,
I too almost lost my soul in Vegas,
I too am both profane and a saint,
I too feel confused and conflicted,
I too both sin and pray,
I too write with a sense of urgency,
because I too know tomorrow isn’t promised today,

I too have found my street instincts to be risky,
I too have gotten it on at the Luxor,
I too know there’s a thin line,
between Love & Hate and between Enemies & Lovers,

trapped between over the top celebrities,
and detectives undercover,
and I’ll a pirate sailor sailing high,
but still I have to fight from going over,

oh Lord,
forgive me for I know not what I do,
and maybe the reason I feel guilty,
is because I waste my gifts on **** and *****,

choose,
your own adventure,

lost,
caught up in the trap that’s why they call it a trap,
winnin’ till when that window rolls down and you don’t know,
if it’s gonna be a gun shot or a camera snap,

I know what’s coming even though I don’t know when,

signing my own death certificate,
like Pac signing to Death Row,
see he thought he was just giving Suge his Music,
but really what he was giving him was his soul,

nobody know when they’re gonna go,
we’re at the table at the Last Supper till they pull our card,
which I guess is sickeningly befitting,
considering Tupac was shot in Vegas on Las Vegas Blvd.,

and all that’s left of him,
is this movie that I watch on this plane,
and what’s happened to our music,
lost Tupac and gained Drake,

and that’s not a shot at Drake,
I mean Drake’s cool,
I’m flying with him to Australia,
but Drake doesn’t have Tupac’s soul,

our music has been watered down,
now Hip Hop sounds like Pop Rock,
I mean how can you even compare,
Hotline Bling to Keep Your Head Up,

what the fck,

how’d we go from Black Panther,
to ***** cat,
how’d we go from I Ain’t Mad At Cha,
to Best I Ever Had,

and I’m not even mad,
I mean I respect Drake for sure,
he gets that money and has always been good to me,
but Drake is no Tupac that’s for sure,

but I won’t elaborate further because,
we all know what happens when you ask too many questions,
so I’ll just keep getting my money and writing my books,
& keep going to church without admitting confessions,

and I’m ending,
this poem right here with an RIP,
RIP to Tupac,
Rest In Peace,

another leader slain,
and I’m so caught up I forgot what I was saying,
even forgot where I was,
which is flying westbound on this plane,

writing verses in blood red ink,
feeling like Pac All Eyes on me,
wondering who shot Tupac pen lines like blood drops,
as I write what I think with all that I’ve got in ink,

ink as red as my red eyes that blink,
sending this poem off as a literary Hail Mary,
with California Love even those it’s Me Against the World,
Keep Your Head Up & congratulations Brenda’s Got A Baby,

and I know I’ll likely Live & Die in LA,
so I wonder if there’s a Heaven for a G,
& if there is Dear Mama I’ll meet you at **** Mansion,
& please know I Ain’t Mad At Cha but I’ve gotta go so peace…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

30/10/17

All these things,
mean nothing to me,
stop giving me gifts,
you can’t buy me with things,

I’m on a flight with no baggage,
only carry on so carry on,
just checking in I just checked in on a flight,
gone into the light of the night so if you’re checking for me I’m already gone,

on a flight with no baggage,
can’t get used to taking this abuse,
I mean I know we’re all monsters,
but that’s no excuse,

and I know we usually destroy our own lives,
so why even try to improve I mean really what’s the use?

Destroying our own cities,
look what horrors we’ve become,
toying with our own citizens,
becoming old and alone instead of together and young,

living long enough to see ourselves become the villains,
growing ugly and old instead of dying beautiful and young,

oh Lord what have we done?

And I just want to escape,
please I want to leave and go anywhere but here,
see you don’t own me I’m not your doll,
so don’t call me baby or sweetie or honey or dear,

I am not any one of your things to be given,
I am not responsible for your oppressed childhood tears,

I am bigger than that,
I am bigger than you,
I am the Cheshire Cat,
I am the moon,

I am bigger than big,
I am a monster to monsters,
so no do not try and control me,
because I conquer those that try and conquer,

a monster,
with metallic scales and electric hair,
I grip your tiny Hell of a shell and crush your rig caged fury,
I step forward the earth quakes and my black eyes rage,

little man please,
hitting me doesn’t make you’re weak self stronger,
and I know I put up with your passive aggressive attacks before,
but I’ve turned into a monster and won’t put up with it any longer,

you’ve turned me into a monster,

so I’m standing up,
to all the times I’ve been knocked down,
I’m getting you out of my life,
and I’m getting me out of this town,

out of this place,
away from these things,
and I swear to God I’ll cut off my fckn finger,
if that’s what it takes to lose this ring,

all these things,
mean nothing to me,
stop giving me gifts,
you can’t buy me with things,

I’m on a flight with no baggage,
only carry on so carry on,
just checking in I just checked in on a flight,
gone into the light of the night so if you’re checking for me I’m already gone…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

There she is again,
accompanied,
by orangish lines of sunshine,
flowing,
along her face her form crystalline.

There she is again,
appearing as a vision does,
when one's searching for the soul,
beautifully majestical,
wild as the wind that blows,
many try but none are identical,
she is utterly unique,
a kindred spirit,
I am in awe at something so great,
I am both intrigued and I fear it,
like the appearance of a mighty Blue Whale,
when in the deep blue and you swim near it,

I desire to communicate in communion,
with the essence of her spirit,
it feels like a first time reunion,
yet I fear my words will be incoherent,

what words can I say to her,
how does one speak to God?

Translations,
are inadequate,
she is,
a living Angelic Artifact,

all of that…

And I think all of this,
as she passes by,

I,

wish,

there were more than mere words,
for she is more than mere mortal,
let us light up in brilliant light,
then blast off into the portal,

magical,
sensational,
inspirational,
gravitational,

she­ is the source,
of all inspiration,
she can keep one on course,
or lose one's concentration,

these are all thoughts I think,
as she draws near,
I better think of something to say quick,
before she forever disappears…


∆aron L∆ Lux ∆

Stop hiding from yourself,
it’s time to shine,
you used to be your own worst enemy,
got to used to that when in fact you’re your best friend,

don’t be scared of your emotions,
let your Love Light shine,
you are a manifested miracle,
you are everything divine,

open,
no more fear,
life is too short,
to be scared,

stand up,
uncurl,
be here,
right now.

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Shook Drake’s hand,
after we touched down in New Zealand,
put my hand on my poetry book like it was the Bible,
and said “Welcome to New Zealand”,

he said “Hey Thanks,
man I really appreciate that fam.”,

gave his manager a copy of 777,
and his barber a copy of The Holy Trilogy,
see great minds think alike,
and we both have lines about enemies becoming energy,

almost wanted to ask him to put me on right there,
but my life is not decided my any other man’s course,
I’m on my own journey I’m not a groupie,
I’m on my own path I ride my own horse,

still though that interaction gave me more respect for him,
and like I told his stylist nothing is a coincidence,
and if anything Drake and Lux meeting there,
was a reaffirmation of what my vision is,

the opening of an art center,
in a place I’d like to call home,
where we’re open 24 hours,
and the mic is always on,

to this I must stay focused,
and not get too distracted,
because the arts has given me so much,
that it’s only fair I give back a bit,

and like I said I don’t believe anything is a coincidence,

all is divine nothing is random,
I am aligned in tuned to the patterns,
I life That Life and don’t know how it happened,
but I’m gonna keep writing like Drake’s gonna keep rapping,

which maybe has something to do with,
why we found each other walking through that door,
on Halloween none the less,
the last day of October,

October’s Very Own,
with this Night Owl out at sunrise,
passing through Immigration with Drake,
life is such a surprise,

he touched the carved wood entry way,
at the airport in Auckland,
I wanted to stay but I had another flight to catch,
en route to Sydney,

sometimes this life moves so fast I get dizzy,

Drizzy,
so surreal he was in how big he’s become,
kept his crew,
flies ***** with all his Day One’s,

that’s loyalty,
get your crew and move up with them,
don’t do as Judas did,
even if the weather gets rough don’t betray them,

these guys live for you,
and they’d **** for you,
walking with a living legend,
living in a fantasy that’s true,

a modern day Fairy Tale,
except there are no fairies,
goblins and ghouls yeah,
and this Fairy Tale can seem scary,

but don’t worry we’ve got this,
and if you need some reassurance,
come find me and ask me,
and I will gladly grant you some guidance,

see it seems I’ve found a bit of fame,
but in the process I lost my mind,
and I’m not the only one see I’ve got some company,
because that boy Drake is on my flight,

and it’s October 30th 2017,
sometime in the middle of the night,
which is appropriate given the circumstance,
that we’re both Libras and it’s October’s last night,

and we all wear masks sometimes,
outside like it’s Halloween,
maybe that’s why I only feel normal one day of the year,
maybe that’s why I give everything all of me,

October’s Very Own,
and yes If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late,
and yes it’s Comeback Season even though we never left,
nor will we leave but either way Sorry For The Wait,

God Man,
we are God Men,
and if you want to know how and why,
you can read my volumes,

written 8 books,
last one was entitled 777,
with the 6 God,
high Fivin’,

listening to 4:44 for real,
a living holy trinity Jay Drake & Lux that’s 3,
but I wrote this only to you,
in the name of One Love Yours Truly,

dedicated to the truth,

truth,

shook Drake’s hand,
after we touched down in New Zealand,
put my hand on my poetry book like it was the Bible,
and said “Welcome to New Zealand”…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

author of multiple bestselling poetry books.

“Please be careful with my left ******.”,

her request comes with a clutching of my hair,
and a gentle yet firm pulling of my head,
away from her right breast,
and into the nape of her neck,

“Why?”,

I ask,
innocent enough,
as I settle into,
my repositioned position.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Of course I do,
that’s why I asked.”

“Well, I had a surgery last year,
I had a tumor in my breast,
and had to have a surgery,
it was actually quite risky and I’m lucky to be alive.”

“Oh.”

I reply.

When anyone says anything so intense and so real,
there is only one of two ways to truly respond,
either with an equal amount of intensity,
or with a mellow affirmation of unconditional acceptance,

I accept when,
she offers her Truth,
and I see that she is an old soul,
even though her body’s still in it’s youth,

you,
can judge if you want to,
I’m in my 30’s and she’s 22,
but honestly with Love there are no rules,

when love abruptly finds you,
at the intersection of two soul’s life’s paths,
particularly when the two souls are travelers,
specifically when those two travelers are traveling,
you have two options,
1.) ignore every instinct to embrace each other or,
2.) plunge head first in the type of leap of faith that only love knows,

I choose the latter,
later,
we find ourselves again,
flowing in a whirlpool of pheromones,

where I find myself,
with my hand upon her mouth,
holding her breath,
to the point of panic,

see I’d always found pleasure in pain,
I suppose it’s a form of perverse dominance,
but the truth is anytime anyone feels uncomfortable,
whatever you’re doing is the opposite of what romance is,

anyways,

just as she teeters on the brink of asphyxiation,
she tears my hand away,
not nearly as gently as she’d pulled my head away,
just a few hours earlier in the evening,

soon,
tears swell and break her eyelashed levees,
bathing her cheeks and my shoulders,
in the salty brine of past torments,

the storm went,
on for hours,
her sentiments the storm clouds,
my shoulder the conscious ground on which she showered,

or rather the conscience ground on which she showered,

finally,
I asked her,
why what I had done,
had caused such an effect,
I mean,
I know,
what I did was wrong,
but honestly this many tears I did not expect,

“Please,
tell me,
why so many tears,
is it what happened now or what happened in past years?”

She pauses,
takes a breath,
then continues,
where she’d earlier left,

“When I was ten,
I almost drowned,
my brother threw me in a pool,
I hit my head and became momentarily paralyzed.”,

her pair of eyes,
staring directly into mine,
I saw in that instant,
that as strong as she was/is/will be,
she is still just such a little girl,
so fragile and breakable,
as intelligent as she was/is/will be,
she is still learning and growing and,

I see how wrongly I’ve treated her,
I see how much she’s been through in the past,
and I want to apologize for everything,
I want to take every misguided action back,

she gave me her trust completely,
and I all did was stab her in the back,

and I want to take back every misguided action but I can’t,
because the past has passed,
so instead of trying to go back,
or give her misused excuses I answer the only way I can,

“I’m so sorry.”,

“I apologize,
on behalf of all men,
and I'm not asking for our memories to be forgot,
I'm just asking for our memories to be forgiven,

because memories are tricky things,
and we both have our own versions,
but either way one thing I can say definitely,
is consent isn’t meant to mean yes when it’s said through coercion,

so again I must say I apologize,
on behalf of all men I offer this apology,
I can’t even pretend my actions were justified,
please forgive us for we know not what we did and we’re sorry,

we messed up completely,
I accept that completely,
we deserve to be ridiculed and shamed,
we don't deserve you we lost you when we lost our dignity,

we fck up totally,
we didn’t know what else to do,
but what’s someone to do when they’re as lost as you,
and no this isn’t meant as an excuse it's just the truth,

because we both know that excuses,
just lead to more abuses,
so this not an exercise in excuses this is an honest apology,
this is exactly what the truth is,

and I don’t know what else to say,
other than I’ll never ever repeat those mistakes,
please the only thing worse than getting my heart broken,
is seeing I’m the cause of someone else’s heartbreak,

see we’ve all been through,
too much trauma it’s true,
see we’ve all been ignored and abused,
definitely you and yes even me too,”....

Me.
Too.

See when anyone says anything so intense and so real,
there is only one of two ways to truly respond,
either with an equal amount of intensity,
or with a mellow affirmation of unconditional acceptance,

and,

I.
Am.
So.
Sorry.

I’ve been entirely too rough with her,
subconsciously inflicting her,
with not so subtle hints of,
all the miseries I’ve been through,

she does not deserve this,
I do not deserve this we do not deserve this,
she/I/we deserve to be in love’s service,
not servants to a fake love that’s perverted and hurts us,

she deserves just,
to be treated of course
equally unconditionally,
with delicate care and support,

I deserve,
to be treated of course
equally unconditionally,
with delicate care and support,

I need to be a strong man,
not a scared little boy,
a real man treats females as strong women,
not as weak little toys,

I need to treat her exactly like I strong man should,
and return to feel her gratitude,
see true strength comes from a place of love,
hate is weak love is tough,

and we are tough enough to change our course,

and I apologize because everyone makes mistakes,
but not everyone admits them,
and that is the difference,
between a real man and a fake one,

there's not a single person out there,
that has not messed up,
so if you think someone's perfect,
they aren't they just haven't confessed yet.

You are too real with me,
for me to be fake with you,
and yeah we are all broken,
but help me fix me and I'll help you fix you.

We deserve to be presently in love,
without having to drag any of our past pains into this,
and when I think of how much I hurt you,
it makes me want to take a knife and slash my wrist,
makes my heart plummet and my stomach feels tight,
makes me want to throw myself up out of me I feel so sick,
makes me want to punch myself in the head,
makes me want to swim away never come back and cut off my d!ck,

makes me want to forget,
makes me want to drown out the memories with alcohol,
makes me want to take recreational drugs to try and forget,
because I don’t want to remember or recall,

I just want to cleanse myself of myself,
just fckn want to **** myself I'm so riddled with guilt,
but if I’ve seen my mistakes and am ready to correct them,
then what good is going to come from killing myself?

Because the ones that feel the least guilty,
are usually the ones that’ve caused the greatest crimes,
so instead of choosing death which would solve nothing,
I decide to correct my wrongs and choose life,

I decide to listen more,
to treat all women as Universal Sisters,
which brings me to the next chapter of this story,
where after she admits to me I admit to her,

see she admits,
of her flirt with death,
when she was ten,
and then it’s my turn to admit this,

“My little sister drowned,
when I was 12,
due to my abusive stepfather’s negligence,
she drowned five days before her first birthday.

The wings tattooed on my back,
are in honor of her,
for she is my Guardian Angel,
she keeps Death at my doorstep but does not let Him in,
even though He incessantly knocks,
and one day He’ll get his way,
I never want to hurt you again Love,
and in honor of my little sister that passed away,
and all of the women and girls including you,
I’m changing my ways,
and there’s no better time than now,
so I’m starting right now right here today.”.

Now it is her turn to respond,
still teary-eyed she turns to me and says,
“I’m so sorry,
and thank you.”

“It’s okay my stepdad was a horrible man,
and my little sister is probably better off on the other side,
I’m sure I’ll be seeing her soon anyways,
plus I saw a rainbow above when she died,
and I took the rainbow above when she passed,
as a good omen and a good sign.”,

the tears finally recede,
and the smiles come like rainbows after a hard rain,
see the truth is all this we live is poetry,
see sometimes to feel joy we need to first feel pain,

relating to someone else’s pain is all we really need,
to not feel so bad though it is somewhat sad,
that human experience experiences so much sadness,
and must have such a painfully poetic path.

It is a miracle,
that after all her and I have been through,
after the damage that’s been done to us,
including both of us being sexually abused,
that we are even able to trust at all,
and not just to trust but to love at all,
to let down our walls,
and to feel anything at all,

honestly,
so many have just turned off,
and the fact that we are still on,
and we are in love is a testimony,
to the overcoming power of love,
to the healing power of love,
and to the graces of unconditional acceptance,

I accept her,
and all of her scars,
unconditionally,
and we will work together to build a better tomorrow,

and she accepts me,
and all of my scars,
unconditionally,
and we will work together to build a better tomorrow.

There's a world of hurt out there,
and we all have something to say just need a platform,
so find someone out there that needs some help,
and show them some unconditional support.

The world is not perfect,
and neither are we,
but the world is beautiful,
and so too are we,

so we ride into the future’s unknown,
grateful for the lessons that help us grow,
and we appreciate our moments here together,
because we both know all too well that everybody goes,

so,

find someone to love,
and please be gentle,
and remember to be kind and touch with care,
whether it's the heart the soul or the ******,

let's be kind,
and also be strong,
and let's embrace these moments,
before we're both forever gone...

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

author/poet/human

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 ∆

Mumok Museum

What am I doing in Vienna,
staring at art as the world burns,
in city I never wanted to go to,
doing things that seem rather uninspiring,

where’s the inspiration gone,
why does everything seem so tiring,
it seems we’re on the verge of a collective mental breakdown,
the system’s short circuiting and could do with some rewiring.

Why does every rags to riches story I know,
end in an overpriced designer outfit all alone?

Why is Consumerism followed like a religion,

we don’t worship Jesus we worship Visa,
good credit better than good morals,
we don’t praise Muhammed in a daze with TV Dramas,
no Buddha just computers no real friends just PayPals,

and maybe that’s why we’d rather be blind than see,
maybe that’s why we hide in museums behind sunglasses,
but would you rather have expense tastes than be free,
because when you’re behind any type of four walls you’re trapped,

where in a Federal Pen with Madoff or a Penthouse with Paris in Paris,
either way we’re victims of our own restrictions trying to buy some more time to be,
but we’re running out of credit the banks are collapsing the recession is relapsing,
so why even try to by when we know not so secretly that only Love will truly set us free,

see,

the best things in life still are free,
and yeah liberation is expensive and self renovations are extensive,
but freedom is priceless,
and it seems that the Love Pyramid is the only pyramid that’s not a ponzi scheme,

because we are all equal even if we’re not all treated equally,
that’s why some have no clothes while others wear designer denim jeans,
but these Diesels are too tight on my thighs and this macabre carnival has no prize,
and I can do anything I want with my life but sometimes all I want to do is breather,

breathe,
breathe because this lifestyle is expensive,
but freedom is priceless,
even though they market it and try to price it,

I just,
want to find a place to relax and release,
all of this,
fck their politics,

fck their programs fck their projects,
fck their agendas dressed in artificial splendor,
fck their treating human beings as objects,
fck their consumerism culture of capitalists,

I just,
don’t know what else to say,
I don’t know why I’m at this museum in Vienna,
hiding on the top floor on a Sunday,

on the 5th floor I just want to give more,
just want to gift these words then make my escape,

just want to be alone,
but also want these words to be known,
but where do you go when you’re tired and over it all,
and you just want to rest but don’t have nor ever had a home,

hello,
could you please pick up the phone,
I’m calling because I still love you,
and I want to come back even though I’m already gone,

on the top floor of the Mumok museum in Vienna,
on the 5th floor to be exact,
and yeah it’s true that I don’t know where I’m going,
but what I do know is I don’t think I’m coming back,

online and off track,
writing more words that rhyme,
then any other living writer,
and that is an actual fact,

and yeah that’s a fact,
but I’m going to follow that with a question,
before I forget,
let me just ask what I am doing in Vienna,

what am I doing in Vienna,
staring at art as the world burns,
in city I never wanted to go to,
doing things that seem rather uninspiring,

where’s the inspiration gone,
why does everything seem so tiring,
it seems we’re on the verge of a collective mental breakdown,
the system’s short circuiting and could do with some rewiring.

Why does every rags to riches story I know,
end in an overpriced designer outfit all alone?

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Comfort Over Fashion

Making the Stuffy Suits nervous,
uncomfortable under all their outerwear,
which is ironic because we’re the ones underdressed,
because it’s still comfort over fashion and function over form,

so I guess it’s not that ironic,
that I didn’t iron anything I have on,
honestly these words speak for me,
I don’t have to say a thing as I sit in the front,
row of the show with a girl as good as gold,
I don’t have to prove anything to any of you,
never let your perception,
of their perception of you fool you,

better yet,
never let,
your perceived perception,
of their assumed perception,
fool you,

it’s not our fault that they feel uncomfortable,
we didn’t commit their sins for them,
we didn’t those two stiff shoes on their feet,
they chose their own clothes and decided to wear them,

we didn’t place them in their own insecurities,
so don’t let their insecurities make you feel insecure,
you’re not obnoxious it’s the sausage that they ate,
stuffed their face now they feel nauseous and awkward,

it’s not your date that’s making them nauseous,
it’s the sausage and the conscience that can’t be washed quick,
so stop this feeling awkward because they feel awkward nonsense,
just stop it and let us be us because to be us is an honor,

let you be your self let us be us,
and let them just be their uncomfortable selves,
all overdressed with all their uncomfortably stuffy stuff,

and we can just continue to make the Stuffy Suits nervous,
uncomfortable under all their outerwear,
which is ironic because we’re the ones underdressed,
because it’s still comfort over fashion and function over form…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

@aaronlalux EVERYWHERE

∆

We are the Hopeful Romantics,
the Indigo Children,
the Wild Lovers with Untamed Souls,
the Colorfully Raging Light,
against the Monotoned Emotionless Masses.

We,
Are,
Unconditional Love.

∆

****...

Cupid can be so ruthless...

∆