Many of you don’t know this,
but I wear my sunglasses at night when I write,
and I know I am a poet,
and I’m supposed to be both understood and misunderstood at the same time,

but I can tell you exactly why I wear my sunglasses when I write,

without any misinterpretations whatsoever,
I wear my sunglasses when I write to block the EMFs,
that emit from the the screen on my electronic device,
and make their way to try and make a way into my eyes,

it’s as if every electronic device is alive,
and they want to take every thing from us including our vibe,
and I’m not sure for sure if this is true so just to be safe I protect my eyes,
by wearing my sunglasses at night when I write,

I want to stay pure,
pure enough at least for you,
because everything I write and do,
of course I do it for you,

as cliche as that might sound,
please know that every word of it is true,
and I’m trying not to rhyme to much so these words don’t sound corny,
but I’m a poet I can’t help it I rhyme without even trying *** else am I supposed to do,

and as far as cliches I’ve got another one coming your way hey, “I Love You.”

I love you,
and I’m trying to stay as pure as I can,
so that I can be clear when I see you,
if we ever have the pleasure of seeing each other again,

as lovers or friends,

either way I am here,

and I’m open,
completely,
devoted,
and cleanly,
unfolded,
and ready,
high voltage,
but steady,
I told ya,
I’m ready,
I noticed,
already,
that you noticed,
me so deeply,
that I broke open easy,
as our emotions,
became confetti,
I told you I told you,
I’ve already been ready already,
and we’re in a storm,
and we’re lost at sea,
but we’re almost to shore,
so please just hold steady,

steady,
steady,
breathe,
steady,

steady hand writes the words,
before fingers become spaghetti and I can write no more,

because honestly I feel like I’m losing all control,
and honestly experiencing strange things then staring at screens doesn’t help,

help,

this is a cry for help,
I’m not scared to admit I’m scared,
I actually have only one fear,
I’m only scared of one thing and nothing else,

being alone.

I am alone.

You are alone.

But we can be alone together.

I told you before I’m totally open,
I told you before I’ve already been ready already,
and I’m trying to stay as pure as possible as I wait for you,
and that’s why I wear these sunglasses so that the EMFs don’t extra affect me,

many,

of you don’t know this,
but I wear my sunglasses at night when I write,
and I know I am a poet,
and I’m supposed to be both understood and misunderstood at the same time,

but I can tell you exactly why I wear my sunglasses when I write,
without any misinterpretations whatsoever,
I wear my sunglasses when I write to block the EMFs,
that emit from the the screen on my electronic device,
and make their way to try and make a way into my eyes,

it’s as if every electronic device is alive,
and they want to take every thing from us including our vibe,
and I’m not sure for sure if this is true so just to be safe I protect my eyes,
by wearing my sunglasses at night when I write,

I want to stay pure,
pure enough at least for you,
because everything I write and do,
of course I do it for you,

as cliche as that might sound,
please know that every word of it is true,
and I’m trying not to rhyme to much so these words don’t sound corny,
but I’m a poet I can’t help it I rhyme without even trying *** else am I supposed to do,

and as far as cliches I’ve got another one coming your way hey, “I Love You.”

I love you,
and I’m trying to stay as pure as I can,
so that I can be clear when I see you,
if we ever have the pleasure of seeing each other again,

as lovers or friends,

either way I am here,

wearing my sunglasses at night when I write,
and I know I am a poet,
and I’m supposed to be both understood and misunderstood at the same time,
but I can tell you exactly why I wear my sunglasses when I write…

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

Happy Fckn Birthday Boy

It’s my Birthday,
the Moon is full,
I’m all alone,
somewhere in Thailand,

what am I doing,
how has my Life come to this,
most people think I have it good,
and I do but I’m still depressed,

I suppose the definition of success depends on perspective,

headed in an unknown direction without any directive,

plus I’m a ship minus a captain and a sentence without a subject,

what’s left,

right here where I lie,
or rather lay,
because I would never lie to you,
at least not in this way,

it’s my Birthday,
the Moon is full,
I’m all alone,
somewhere in Thailand,

wondering what there is left to celebrate,
I was already made an internationally known writer months ago,
that Moment has passed,
now I’m here trying to keep it together all alone,

it's my Birthday but I'm not present,
it's my Birthday but there are no presents,
it's my Birthday so I'll cry if I want to,
it's my Birthday "Happy Fckn Birthday", yeah what the fck is it to you,

a hundred people have messaged me,
wishing me a “Happy Birthday”,
and the only thing I want to reply with,
is “Could you be any more generic and cliche?”

Come on,
is that what our friendship is worth,
10 seconds out of your day,
and a few over used words,

I mean really,
I’m a poet and anyone that knows me or of me knows this,
so why when they write me,
wouldn’t they at least try to be at least a little more creative,

Jesus,

I feel so alone,

I go out and meet people,
but they are usually so uninspiring,
all they want to do is drink poisons and talk about nonsense,
& all I want to do is ask them how their pointless lives are applicable to me at all,


alcohol and cigarettes,
*** that’s just promiscuous,

doesn’t anyone make love anymore?

No not here,
this is not a place for connection,
this is a place for superficial feelings,
and unruly heathens with no direction,

I suppose the definition of success depends on perspective,

headed in an unknown direction without any directive,

plus I’m a ship minus a captain and a sentence without a subject,

what’s left,

right here where I lie,
or rather lay,
because I would never lie to you,
at least not in this way,

it’s my Birthday,
the Moon is full,
I’m all alone,
somewhere in Thailand,

brought my parents together for the first time in my life,
observed them over the table at dinner they acted as awkward as I,
I wanted to tell them I am their only Son and I love them,
but I said nothing I just sat there and watched them passively fight,

no birthday candles to light,
no wish to make when I close my eyes,
no party no dancing,
just me alone under the full Moon's light,

but if I had a wish it would be this,

I wish I knew a way to heal us all,
I wish I knew a way to give everyone the love they need,
I wish I knew a way to tell you it all,
I wish I knew a way to make us new and free from our own insecurities,

met a girl tonight,
she said she was an alcoholic,
said she met a guy with Aspergers,
and that they went out together and she blacked out,

she said she liked the guy she met,
but she wasn't sure because of his condition,
I told her we're all a bit crazy in our own way,
and she shouldn't let a bit of crazy affect her decisions,

then I left her how I'd found her,
I was bored and it was time for me to go,
because I found her like I find most people,
which is totally uninspiring I told you before,

all they want to do is drink poisons and talk about nonsense,
& all I want to do is ask them how their pointless lives are applicable to me at all,

alcohol and cigarettes,
*** that’s just promiscuous,

doesn’t anyone make love anymore?

Anyways,

it’s my Birthday,
the Moon is full,
I’m all alone,
somewhere in Thailand...

October 15th, 2016

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Espresso Yourself

Word hit like espresso shots,
got that stress of regret you’re best to let it go,
best to express it outta your self tun it into espresso,
or else that regret will fester into gunpowder until it totally explodes,

unload reload,
you’re the gun,
memories are the ammo,
noting is verboten even when forgotten,

this twisted linguistic addict attitude is not an act or a show,

but the derangement of this is entertainment regardless,

and this artist is in demand all around the world,

they want to take my time,
and everything else that I thought was mine,
but I don’t have the time to spare because I’m in a race to nowhere,
trying to find the finish line before I completely lose my mind,

gaining ground in quicksand sick and no one seems to care,
grinding grounds no chitchat i just grab my espresso and get outta there,

there as in here no beer just these coffee beans this is a caffeine affair,

I’ll take a double on the double,
actually if it’s more simple I’ll take a triple,
no milk no sugar no trouble,
just this espresso and these expressions that ripple,

with words hit like espresso shots,
got that stress of regret you’re best to let it go,
best to express it outta your self tun it into espresso,
or else that regret will fester into gunpowder until it totally explodes…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

You came to me again,
in a not so distant dream,
a lucid deja vu version of you,
I swear you felt so real,

where have you gone,
touch me with your stare,
grace me with your presence,
take me with you somewhere,

anywhere but here,

here in this house,
the silence has never sounded so loud,
I’m sick of being awake when everyone seems asleep,
caught in the web or rather in the net head in the cloud,

caught in the web,
or rather the net,
head in the cloud,
I said it twice so you’d get the reference,

I’ve found that most our here are lost in indifference,

and I just want to go to sleep,
because nothing is what you left me with,
and I only see you in my dreams,
so that is where I’m determined to return like a revenant,

you came to me again,
in a not so distant dream,
a lucid deja vu version of you,
I swear you felt so real,

where have you gone,
touch me with your stare,
grace me with your presence,
take me with you somewhere,

anywhere but here…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Busier than I thought,
and money doesn’t buy time,
so I’m rushing to catch up,
to myself so ahead of time,

remind,
me,
why,
you,
are,
divine,

we don’t need a reason,
we just need a rhyme,

I’m,
Busier than I thought,
and money doesn’t buy time,
so I’m rushing to catch up,
to myself so ahead of time…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

I don’t believe in good and bad,
so don’t come at me like that,

if you’re willing then I am Able,
no Cain able to take pain and make it beautiful,

no labels,

come on,

this is 2016,
do what you say,
and say what you mean,

I don’t believe,
in good and bad,
so don’t come at me like that,

if you’re willing then I am Able,
no Cain able to take pain and make it beautiful,

the truth it you,
are someone who is indescribable,
and our vibe,
rides out the world in waves of indigo,

a deep blue that shines in the light,
we turn abysmal into beautiful,

beautiful,
hand me your hurt,
I demand it first,
before we go any further,
because either you keep it real,
by letting go of all ideas,
or honestly we’re not worth the bother,

hotter,
than Hell,
cooler,
than Heaven,
no more,
labels,
either or,
no regressions,

no regrets when,

we dive in to the deep blue,
and turn indigo to rainbow beautiful,

if it is the truth we know,
then let us celebrate and elevate existence,
and if not then get off me with the pressure,
because I have time and don’t like your persistence,

I don’t believe in good and bad,
so don’t come at me like that,

if you’re willing then I am Able,
no Cain able to take pain and make it beautiful,

no labels,

come on…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

We are all Stars,
burning brightly in brilliant Light,
until we burn up and vanish,
back into the Blackness from which we came...

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

You can not take a place with you,
we all know this is true,
and I don’t want to leave these mountains,
but what else can I do?

I must descend back to Babylon,
for there’s knowledge to be shared,
and more work to be done,
work that can not be done here,

so as I sit here on an opal rock,
high in the Himalayas,
I pray for peace upon all of earth,
with an incense and a prayer,

then back I go,
back down the mountain slow,
into the Devil’s lair…

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

Jacqueline,

your bottomless black eyes draw me in,
as I draw these lines with black pen,
which form emotionally immaculate translations,
that describe th way those bottomless black eyes draw me in,

Jacqueline,

I’m unraveling as I’m travelin’,
into the infinite of your obsidian eyes,
and I’m writing frantically to try and describe,
everything you are that makes me feel alive,

I,

a legendary writer,
who’s legend has just begun,
attempting to describe,
the indescribable I know it’s difficult but it can be done,

I am spun,
out in the your orbit or rather the orbit of your bottomless black eyes,
and that’s okay,
because we are far from the prying public’s eye,

and of course the course of the public can be an ugly subject,
because there is no passably pretty way to dress up hideous lies,

but we find refuge in these words which find refuge in those eyes,
here we have our own world one not subject to the public and their lies,
we’re in private and I’m dying and at the same time feeling thoroughly alive,
dancing the tantric dance of the divine the white hot light and those black cold eyes,

those black eyes,
draw me in,
Jacqueline,
it is only to such a beautiful muse such as you that I write,

lines upon lines,
I describe everything you are that makes me feel alive as one,
and at the same time this poem pushes ahead to completion,
all of our pre-existing inhibitions begin to become undone,

like bra straps and boot straps,
take your shoes of at the door,
let it all go we are each other’s inspiration,
when we are together we want for nothing more,

we are alone here,
we are together here,
we are allowed to be us here,
here fear is not a four letter word,

we are whatever we want to be now,
we have found ourselves lost,
me in your bottomless black eyes,
and you in all of these hopefully worthy words,

I’ve heard,
that there’s no time like the present,
so let us be here now without resentment,
if you’ll be my moon I’ll be your crescent,

we are all blessings both learning and lessons,

let your hair down,
open your eyes up,
I am inspired again,
Jacqueline Jacqueline,
in,
to,
those bottomless black eyes I begin to spin,

drifting off to never land,
never wanting to come back to their reality again,
so please if I may ask as a friend,
one last kiss before forever begins,

one last look at unfiltered inspiration,
I’m a chosen one that chose you as my muse for some reason,
unbeknownst to none everyone understands the attraction of a beautiful woman,
so please before I go and forever begins be a friend and grant me one last moment,

open your eyes again,

allow me to get lost in your pupils,
I’m your pupil I’m your student I’m your lesson,
so one last time before forever begins,
please open your eyes so I can get lost and find inspiration again,

as we begin to drift off into never land and forever begins to begin…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Prism’s

Your pain,
is poetry,
a painting a drawing a piece of artwork,
spill your oily acrylic ink on me,

let’s make a mess of this fuss,
then forget it all in the clarity of luminous trust,

true,
you,
are poetry,
thoughts are the pen the place is the page,

detain your humane pain,
then express it plane in an artistic campaign,
through your prism’s windowpane,
until all that remains is your frame totally unrestrained,

your pain,
is poetry,
a painting a drawing a piece of artwork,
spill your oily acrylic ink on me…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Las Meninas

Dementia makes a great creator,
sacrifice your sanity for the greater splendor,
it’s interesting how insanity makes a great inventor,
all the greatest were/are/will be crazy now and forever,

just ask this to Francis Ford Coppola the director,
or bat ****t (no disrespect but pun intended) Christian bale the actor,
or Vincent van Gogh who cut his ear off all creative geniuses are tortured,
so I suppose Picasso's no different in his portraits of torment as a painter,

what a mad medium the Expressive Arts are,
as if every artistic creation is it’s own emotional provocateur,
a window to the soul of a lunatic lit by the light of the moon,
and shown through the manifestation of a painting in living color,

abstract dualities uncovered,
a crack in the cement of our foundation,
the wooden frame of our reality begins to splinter,
like window panes in the winter open to interpretation,

ascending,
up a spiral staircase into the attic of an artistic addicts mind,
find some time then misplace it,
then replace it with a twist of fate and sprig of thyme,

face it fate is what we face when we're outta excuses and out of time,

I’m,

writing words,
like oil painted on canvas,
in a race no one wins,
even those with the most advantage,

brush strokes,
art works,
we are all tainted,
just look,
at Picasso,
and all the pain he painted,

this is the ballad of the obscene lick the palette clean and get wasted,

drunk in love,
under the influence of,
colors of pastels and multi tones,
high off life,
we’ve got a show tonight,
but for now I write in verbose undertones,

at the Picasso Museum in Barcelona,
in an insane world only crazy love seems sensible,
with Jay and Beyonce they say the circles get smaller you go,
and we’re at the top of the pyramid circle so small it’s a point at the pinnacle,

paining portraits in our own ways,
some sing some dance some actually paint,
and I’m not the Devil that that accuse me of being,
but I’m also not exactly a patron saint,

paint,
a portrait of this torture,
name,
it ‘Maids of Honor',

create,
an entire series of misery and maybe it will be your zenith,
make,
Hell as beautiful as Heaven & then when it’s finished call it Las Meninas,

then release it all and they will call you a gothic prophet an artistic genius,

love the art,
but not the artist,
love the hate,
but not the haters,
love heart,
but not what it harbors,
love the work,
but not the workers,

people love,
what they’re told to love,
like people love Picasso,
because that’s what they’re told,

rarely is greatness recognized,
while the artist is still alive,
no one wants to take the time,
to truly appreciate and recognize,

and speaking of time I know I’m late,
but better late and I apologize for my lateness,
but a true creative type can’t be rushed or hushed,
so please if you want to receive you must have that virtue called patience,

life is the canvas passions the paint it’s time for action let us paint this…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

In Sintra,
feeling like a New Age ninja,
can barely type I’m so high,
today I climbed three mountains,

we were a trio,
a girl and another guy,
now I’m alone at my castle,
with nothing but these words I write,

see I’m alone tonight,
and alone has never felt so good,
I’ve made a conscious decision to dedicate my life to these writings,
so that hopefully eventually the unexplainable can be understood,

understand?

I write the collective pieces of this puzzle,
that we experience as we exist,
each poem is a piece that falls into place,
until the big picture is what we get,

this,
is not a poem,
this,
is a message in a bottle,
carried across the seas of time,
or actually an ocean in motion,
this is the not so secret ingredient of love potion number 9,

I’m doing fine,
trying to stay on subject,
to appease the public,
without getting to deep into symbolic numerology,

trying to keep it simple,
so we can all understand,
I don’t want to write words that confuse people,
I want to write words that enlighten them,

and in them I mean you,
yes you,
I want to feel you see you hold you be you,
I want to want you without wanting to want you,

and I’m wondering if you’re wanting to want me,
without wanting me too,

shoot,
it’s starting to get complicated,
I didn’t mean to make it personal,
honestly it could have been anyone,
that received my message in a bottle,

I just wrote it,
I didn’t think anyone would really read it,
I didn’t think I’d sell 100,000 copies of my books,
I didn’t think that you’d look at me and believe I’ve succeeded,

see this,
is all becoming a little much,
so I’ve escaped to Sintra,
where it’s the simple things I love,

and you can find me here,
amongst towering trees and fuzzy ferns,
writing words faithfully,
because I’ve learned you get what you earn,

you get what you earn,
as in you reap what you sow,
and the peace from the tree tastes so sweet,
when you take the time to let it grow,

the Tree of Life,
bears the fruits of our labors,
and all I’m really trying to say,
is you are you’re own best savior,

so see you later,
or not either way it doesn’t matter,
we’ll all be gone in a hundred years no matter what,
but that doesn’t matter because there is no later,

there’s only this moment,
right here right now,
and the question is not if we die,
it’s if we live and if we live then how,

how do we live,
and what do we leave for our children’s kids,
well personally I leave these puzzle pieces,
in the form of poems such as this…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

NoMakeUp

Chic lookin' like death,
with her dyed platinum blond hair,
her fake silicone **** and all that make up,
over dressed like Halloween **** girl I'm scared,

the less you wear,
the less impressed I am,
you get dressed up just to get messed up,
smoke a cigarette then get your teeth whitened,

you get done up glam,
just to get run up in,

when,
in the world was it ever okay,
to,
disrespect yourself that way?

Getting fckt by strangers,
without getting money or commitments,
that means you're like a *******,
a ******* that's not even good at business,

you're a despicable disgrace,
to the entire female race,
you wear all that cover-up,
because you've got Krocodil face,
that's Krocodil with a 'K',
better get it straight,
the kind from Russia,
that will eat your face,

eat your whole face off,
face it,
the facts are basic,
real women look way better without any fake make-up.

The only reason you need it,
is because you don't see this,

plus you fill your stomach,
with fast food *****,
you're going down in flames,
what was your name Halley Comet?

Saving money on food,
so you can buy cosmetics,
maybe if you changed your diet,
you wouldn't need cosmetics,

there's nothing romantic,
about cosmetics,
cosmetics cause cancer,
don't you get it?

More vegetables,
less processed cheese,
and your face won't look,
like it's got a disease,

please,

remember these words,

real women look better without any make-up,

without all those name brands we're all naked,

believe whatever  you want to,
but these words will still be true...

So stop dying,
your hair to death,
and trying,
to get the guys to stare at your breast,

you are,
so much more beautiful naturally,
and if you,
go natural well actually,
you might find,
a man who loves your mind,
a man that truly loves you,
for who you are inside.

and I promise this,
in all honestness,

no man will ever fall in love,
with a woman because of the size of her breast,
or the color of her hair,
or the brand of her dress,
no real man will ever really care,
whether your outfit is Versace or Guess,

because good men care about the real you,
not fake fashion brand names,
you are not a cow nor are you cattle,
so why would you want a label branding?

And I promise this,
in all honestness,
that this is,
honest honestness.

Real men fall in love with real women,
because of who they really are,
not who they pretend to be,
real men fall in love with real women,
because they love her soul's avatar,
and her divine femininity…

So let your hair grow,
back out to it's natural color,
if you honestly want,
to find a natural lover,

and save your self,
for those special lovers,
that are truly deserving,
of all of your natural wonders,

leave the fake hair,
for the fakers,
leave the toners,
for the loners,
leave the make up and fake dyes,
for the hookers and transvestites,

you,
are beautiful,
without,
the manicured cuticles,

you are beautiful,
just the way you naturally are,
there's no need to alter yourself,
with some silicone and scars.

Just be beautiful Beautiful,
there is no need to pretend,
and leave the makeup and fake body parts,
for the trannies and mannequins... ∆

Rio Olympics

No more fun and games,
Olympics in Rio,
to get ready for the games,
they cleared out the barrios,

where does tomorrow go,
once it’s gone,
from expectation to memory,
along with the setting sun,

Son,
you don’t know me,
allow me to introduce myself,
I’m Aaron Lux I’m a writer,
and I believe knowledge is wealth,

stealth lover yes,
not a stealth fighter jet,
because if you ask me how we can stop ISIS,
I’ll say let’s release the Happy Mist,

they’ll just call it Happy Clouds,

serious as a heart attack with  Cirrus clouds of Happy Mist,

or better yet,
Nimbus clouds,
and citrus sounds,
our reigns begun,
this is a flood not trickle down,

no more fun and games,
Olympics in Rio
to get ready for the games,
they cleared out the barrios,

where does tomorrow go,
once it’s gone,
from expectation to memory,
along with the setting sun,

and speaking of sun,
we are live at the Apollo,
like the Greek God of the same name,
trying to fill all theses hearts we meet that are hollow,

hello,
do you want something to believe in,
well how about world peace,
for the people and the planet that we live on,

honestly,

and that is why when I see war,
I don’t think the only way to stop it is violence,
because if you fight fire with fire then you’ll burn the whole world down,
and I’m an eager volunteer fire fighter that’s first in and a final finalist,

where is the Happy Mist,
let’s cover the gun smoke with love soak,
let’s saturate the masses maybe then they won’t be so classless,
and let’s write down this idea before we forget it in our deep pocketbook…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Illuminati

Accusations of Illuminati,
I call those compliments,
honestly how we act so cool,
when it’s constantly all intense,

please tell me where Honest went,

can we please make Kindness cool again,
when Charity is as cherished as the greed of those who are only pho free,

for real,
do you get me?

What I’m saying is those that only have fake freedom,
often find desires that they pursue even when they do not need them,

please,
him,
and her,
as you were,
as it is,
as this blurs,
our world spins…

Everyone’s off their axis,
got water on our atlas,
have excess but still don’t have access,
if you even have to ask this then you need more practice,

backstage without a backstage pass at,
show’s with your idol’s idol,
the God no other name needed,
we thrive in a mode fit for survival,

Child,

your Soul is young but your bodies getting old,
so soon you’ll say goodbye to both Time and Space,
though we are not separated by our virtues at death,
our souls still exist even when our bodies have left this place,

and I pray,
that if God is real then the Eye is always upon us,
and I pray,
that we’ll get though this with grace if we’ll just be honest,

accusations of Illuminati,
I call those compliments,
honestly how we act so cool,
when it’s constantly all intense,

please tell me where Honest went,

can we please make Kindness cool again,
when Charity is as cherished as the greed of those who are only pho free,

for real,
do you get me?

What I’m saying is those that only have fake freedom,
often find desires that they pursue even when they do not need them,

please,
him,
and her,
as you were,
as it is,
as this blurs,
our world spins…


∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Making Broken Patterns

We’re all broken,
that’s why everyone’s searching for a fix,
we’re all hoping,
for a reason to believe well maybe this is it.

Here I sit,
alone again,
as are you,
I sense a trend,

a pattern,
of minor disasters,
mixed with,
major factors,
combines to,
define you,
into whatever comes after,

all the world’s a stage,
all of us are actors,
in The Book of Life until we turn the page,
and enter into the next chapter,

laughter,
from the voyeuristic crowd,
soundtrack,
from the orchestra of sounds,

sounds,
a lot like life right,
now,
we are all in the limelight,

our scars are watercolors,
our feelings are ink,
our attitude is honest art,
we use pain and bliss to paint the masterpiece,

a distaster we,
are for sure none of us are pure,
as times moves faster we,
see that none of this is sure,

sure,

we’re all broken,
that’s why everyone’s searching for a fix,
we’re all hoping,
for a reason to believe well maybe this is it…

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

Lago Da Preta

With water from aquifers,
deep within the rock of The Holy Cross,
where these holy waters first see the Light of Day,
is where we converge and I submerge my gold chain,

between darkness and light,
where Lago De Preta is filled,
I quench my thirst for redemption,
with hands cupped in prayer,

I carry the water from the ceramic spout,
to the waiting lips of my mouth,
I drink these holy waters,
to replenish that which the vampires have drained,

they took more than I offered them,
but I suppose so goes the burden of every saint,
we give and we give and we give,
so that hopefully through our blessings they can be saved,

and all this giving is tiring,
so I’ve come to this sanctuary of Lago Da Preta,
to drink these holy waters from this holy mountain,
to which I was gratefully and thankfully divinely led,

so hopefully I too can be saved,
by these cleansing waters,
at this circular stone aqua alter,
covered in soft green moss and prayers,

I’ve taken my shoes off,
as we all should at any temple,
I’ve confessed my sins here,
in hopes of redemption,

I give thanks for,
this moment of peace in this Garden of Pena,
at this sanctuary in this forest,
here before us is the Lago Da Preta,

I give thanks,
because moments of refuge care priceless,
in a world that’s gone mad,
I hope I can redeem us with words so I write this,

and I send these poetic letters,
from here because I don’t think I’m coming back,

I’m at,

Lago a Preta,

a place made in honor of a mysterious black saint,
created with sea shells and volcanic rock and dedicated faith,

the saint,
is mysterious because her origins are unknown,
so we can only speculate,
and I’d speculate that she was probably a saint of the Moors,

and it was probably a beautiful statue that stood here,
and it was probably destroyed by white Conquistadors,
the same mind frame vein that made Jesus white,
and made Morocco a place settled by the Moors,

the statue was likely removed,
for the same reason the Great Sphinx lost it’s nose,
for the same reason so many statues are defaced,
and it’s an atrocity but I suppose that’s just the way it goes,

because history seems to be written,
by those that do the most sinning,
and it’s tragically ironic,
that those that sin the most do the most winning,

and lately in history most of the winners have been white,

but still I pray in front of an alter erected to a black saint,
because I believe that God doesn’t see people by color,
I believe God sees people by intentions and actions,
and I am proud and excited but at this very moment I am humbled,

I am grateful,
I dip my gold chain and my mala beads in this infinite elixir,
water so ******,
it could **** those energy ******* vampires,

sometimes just restin’ is the best medicine,

sometimes it helps to just remove your shoes and pray,

sometimes it’s best to get away from all the clamor,

sometimes you can find a place of peace like I have today,

I pray,

between darkness and light,
where Lago De Preta is filled,
I quench my thirst for redemption,
with hands cupped in prayer,

and I write,

with hands still wet from holy waters,
from deep within the rock of The Holy Cross,
I write in hopes these words will be found,
so that all of humanity will cease to be hopelessly lost…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Rio Olympics

No more fun and games,
Olympics in Rio,
to get ready for the games,
they cleared out the barrios,

where does tomorrow go,
once it’s gone,
from expectation to memory,
along with the setting sun,

Son,
you don’t know me,
allow me to introduce myself,
I’m Aaron Lux I’m a writer,
and I believe knowledge is wealth,

stealth lover yes,
not a stealth fighter jet,
because if you ask me how we can stop ISIS,
I’ll say let’s release the Happy Mist,

they’ll just call it Happy Clouds,

serious as a heart attack with  Cirrus clouds of Happy Mist,

or better yet,
Nimbus clouds,
and citrus sounds,
our reigns begun,
this is a flood not trickle down,

no more fun and games,
Olympics in Rio
to get ready for the games,
they cleared out the barrios,

where does tomorrow go,
once it’s gone,
from expectation to memory,
along with the setting sun,

and speaking of sun,
we are live at the Apollo,
like the Greek God of the same name,
trying to fill all theses hearts we meet that are hollow,

hello,
do you want something to believe in,
well how about world peace,
for the people and the planet that we live on,

honestly,

and that is why when I see war,
I don’t think the only way to stop it is violence,
because if you fight fire with fire then you’ll burn the whole world down,
and I’m an eager volunteer fire fighter that’s first in and a final finalist,

where is the Happy Mist,
let’s cover the gun smoke with love soak,
let’s saturate the masses maybe then they won’t be so classless,
and let’s write down this idea before we forget it in our deep pocketbook…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Fisherman’s Bastion

Hey,

how have you been?

I know,
some time times can be tough,
but remember,
nothing’s permanent this too shall pass,

we are only an idea of our own imagination,

and I don’t know if that makes things better or worse,
but then again maybe there is no such thing as better or worse,
and maybe that’s the truth,
and maybe the truth is that sometimes the truth hurts…

Hey,

how have you been?

Tell me,
are you enjoying this miracle called life,
in this body,
that you’re currently in?

I’m not sure you fully heard the question because I don’t know if you were listening,
so at the risk of being repetitive I’m going to ask it again,

“Hey how have you been,
are you enjoying this miracle called life in this body that you’re currently in?”

And yeah I know you’re confused and think you might be a lesbian,
or maybe an asexual extra-terrestrial multi-dimensional alien,
but hey that’s okay all the world’s a stage and we are all thespians,
oddity prodigies isn’t it ironic how sometimes the poison is the medicine,

I’m not sure you heard the reference because I don’t know if you were listening,
so at the risk of being repetitive I’m going to say it again,

“All the world’s a stage and we are all thespians,
oddity prodigies isn’t it ironic how sometimes the poison is the medicine.”

Hey,

how have you been?

I thought about you today,
all day actually,

all the way from Budapest Castle,
through the Labyrinth to Matthias Church,
where I drank water from the fountain,
to quench my reoccurring thirst,

I thought about you today,
from the thermal baths at Lukacs,
to right here where I’m writing this,
back to the Basilica on the Turrets of the Fisherman’s Bastion,

actually I have a question if you don’t mind me asking,

hey,

how have you been?

It seems what I’ve received from atop the turrets contemplating,
is that my attraction towards you is both affection and indifference,
affliction and obsession and independence and addiction,
and possession and freedom and acceptance and rejection,

wait a second it’s actually also the most beautiful creation in all of creation

it is we are the self manifestation of perfection from chaos and misdirection,

oh my look now to the sky is where we are headin’,

and things are going so fast now I think it’s about time I check in,

hey,

how have you been?

You still give me the chills like the hottest Sun mixed with the coldest Wind,
which also describes the highest highs both literally and figuratively that I find myself in,
because what I write is the result of insight from the Most High inside that I then let out with my pen,
and also it seems where I write these lines it’s usually from places high in the sky it can’t all be a coincidence,

this feels all too real to try and even begin to attempt to pretend,
confident and confused at the same time like wanting to make love with your best friend,

When,
will we be able to make love unconditionally without any preconditions,
when can we just be without wanting to do,
like being at a Basilica in the petition position but not needing to be on a mission,

can we please just land on foreign land for the sake of seeking refuge from stormy seas or simply to stop from drifting?

When will we be able to just be without all the questioning and invasive investigations,
I mean seriously these people these days ask so many questions it’s beginning to feel like an inquisition,

made a few more references there could you please write back and let me know when you get them?

Let me know when,
you stop fishing,
because I already know who I want,
and of course I’ve only got one question,

hey,

how have you been?

Listen,

I’m tired you’re hired please love my rebellious heart into submission,

and I guess that’s what I’ve been trying to say the whole time but I got lost in all the added adjective descriptions,

caught up in the moment as the sun set’s over the Danube river,
casting this beautiful city of Budapest in a golden glow that ripples and glistens,
and I realize just how unbelievably beautiful this whole globe is,
but honestly the whole world is only half as beautiful when i find you missin’,

see you seem so far away when you’re anywhere but here…

Here,

where I watch tourist take selfies as lovers give kisses,
from atop the turrets of Fisherman’s Bastion,
staring over the edge fighting back the undeniable urge to plummet into the abyss,
and I’m wondering if you feel the same undeniable way and that is why one last time I’m asking,

hey,

how have you been?

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆





Fisherman’s Bastion

Hey,

how have you been?

I know,
some time times can be tough,
but remember,
nothing’s permanent this too shall pass,

we are only an idea of our own imagination,

and I don’t know if that makes things better or worse,
but then again maybe there is no such thing as better or worse,
and maybe that’s the truth,
and maybe the truth is that sometimes the truth hurts…

Hey,

how have you been?

Tell me,
are you enjoying this miracle called life,
in this body,
that you’re currently in?

I’m not sure you fully heard the question because I don’t know if you were listening,
so at the risk of being repetitive I’m going to ask it again,

“Hey how have you been,
are you enjoying this miracle called life in this body that you’re currently in?”

And yeah I know you’re confused and think you might be a lesbian,
or maybe an asexual extra-terrestrial multi-dimensional alien,
but hey that’s okay all the world’s a stage and we are all thespians,
oddity prodigies isn’t it ironic how sometimes the poison is the medicine,

I’m not sure you heard the reference because I don’t know if you were listening,
so at the risk of being repetitive I’m going to say it again,

“All the world’s a stage and we are all thespians,
oddity prodigies isn’t it ironic how sometimes the poison is the medicine.”

Hey,

how have you been?

I thought about you today,
all day actually,

all the way from Budapest Castle,
through the Labyrinth to Matthias Church,
where I drank water from the fountain,
to quench my reoccurring thirst,

I thought about you today,
from the thermal baths at Lukacs,
to right here where I’m writing this,
back to the Basilica on the Turrets of the Fisherman’s Bastion,

actually I have a question if you don’t mind me asking,

hey,

how have you been?

It seems what I’ve received from atop the turrets contemplating,
is that my attraction towards you is both affection and indifference,
affliction and obsession and independence and addiction,
and possession and freedom and acceptance and rejection,

wait a second it’s actually also the most beautiful creation in all of creation

it is we are the self manifestation of perfection from chaos and misdirection,

oh my look now to the sky is where we are headin’,

and things are going so fast now I think it’s about time I check in,

hey,

how have you been?

You still give me the chills like the hottest Sun mixed with the coldest Wind,
which also describes the highest highs both literally and figuratively that I find myself in,
because what I write is the result of insight from the Most High inside that I then let out with my pen,
and also it seems where I write these lines it’s usually from places high in the sky it can’t all be a coincidence,

this feels all too real to try and even begin to attempt to pretend,
confident and confused at the same time like wanting to make love with your best friend,

When,
will we be able to make love unconditionally without any preconditions,
when can we just be without wanting to do,
like being at a Basilica in the petition position but not needing to be on a mission,

can we please just land on foreign land for the sake of seeking refuge from stormy seas or simply to stop from drifting?

When will we be able to just be without all the questioning and invasive investigations,
I mean seriously these people these days ask so many questions it’s beginning to feel like an inquisition,

made a few more references there could you please write back and let me know when you get them?

Let me know when,
you stop fishing,
because I already know who I want,
and of course I’ve only got one question,

hey,

how have you been?

Listen,

I’m tired you’re hired please love my rebellious heart into submission,

and I guess that’s what I’ve been trying to say the whole time but I got lost in all the added adjective descriptions,

caught up in the moment as the sun set’s over the Danube river,
casting this beautiful city of Budapest in a golden glow that ripples and glistens,
and I realize just how unbelievably beautiful this whole globe is,
but honestly the whole world is only half as beautiful when i find you missin’,

see you seem so far away when you’re anywhere but here…

Here,

where I watch tourist take selfies as lovers give kisses,
from atop the turrets of Fisherman’s Bastion,
staring over the edge fighting back the undeniable urge to plummet into the abyss,
and I’m wondering if you feel the same undeniable way and that is why one last time I’m asking,

hey,

how have you been?

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Little. Broken. Promises.

I disregard the cigarettes remnants,
it contains another broken promise,
how come I can tell the truth to everyone,
except to my self I can’t seem to be so honest,

she messages me on Facebook,
with tears in her eyes,
she tells me she’s in love with a husband,
who already has a wife,

really though she loves me,
I’ve known that since we first met,
she sends my hearts and poetry,
and I know in her heart a place for me is kept,

her tears roll down her face,
and rest upon her breast,
I’m aroused being as I’m just a man,
so I tell her let’s have ***,

virtually anyways,
because we’re communicating on the internet,
she’s in LA I’m in Lisbon,
so we are on Skype having inter-***,

she plays the lead and I direct,
so I tell her rub on her ****,
I then take off my shirt,
and tell her next to rub on her ****,

she does and we do,
what so many today do too,
it’s a virtual world this is virtual reality,
so I guess it makes sense to have virtual *** too,

we both came but still it seemed,
she and I were far apart,
she might have well been on Venus,
and I of course on Mars,

where are those emotions of ours,
that we used to have back in the day,
why does it seem now that the only thing we show is scars,
as we lay restless in the bed that we’ve made,

we make,
promises to ourselves,
then we break them almost as soon as we make them,
just to try and remember how it felt,

remember when we could still feel,
when we’d make a promise and keep it,
remember when the world was ours,
and we believed if we tried we would make it,

now where are we,
chasing empty dreams,
and giving ourselves to anyone,
that will again make us believe,

I breathe,
in the smoke mixed with night,
as we make one more little promise,
to make all these wrong things right,

as I disregard the cigarettes remnants,
it contains another broken promise,
how come I can tell the truth to everyone,
except to my self I can’t seem to be so honest…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Escapist Pt. 1 ( The Plan)

When I feel trapped,
I escape out of the stress when,
I write these words,
I scribe my confessions,
whether fact or fiction,
I blend into these pages,
whether a real act or just a premonition,
enlightenment comes in phases of stages,
I snap the trap and still escape unscathed with no scathing,
I always find a way to get away I am an Escapist who's always escaping.

A combination of a Genie in a bikini and a suited up Houdini,
a widely believed Whodunit mystery conspiracy theory,
I take it all in with a grain of salt nothing’s too serious no not at all,
lifes’ a fckn joke for real no for real seriously,

that’s the truth,
no rules no ruler,
just two tools to use,
my mind and my computer,

here there are no rules,
as we escape into these pages,
no rules no cages,
no minimum wages when maximum faded….

Feeling the dreams crashing into me,
I’m jaded,
no jade though ‘cause I’m not Chinese,
but yes I made it,

to these pages where these lines be,
these lines these,
lines in here are outrageous,
no slave labor,
no life savers or light sabers,
just these thoughts on these pages,
and I guess that’s the feeling,
I find between these lines,
written in freehand,
in a free land from the free mind of a free man,
though no one is free man,
not even me man,
because no ground is free land,
it all comes at a cost,
no boss,
no contract I’m freelance,

an emotional journalist,
reporting live from the front lines,
still alive even in these dying trying times,
though I don’t really know why,
might take my life after the lime,
light I gave you my all for right and wrong right?

Still alive,
no suicide,
though Lord knows I’ve tried and tried,

because if at first you don’t succeed,
try again pop the pills then wait and see,
still after all this time I’m still alive and kicking,
which means God must have a plan for me…

But that plan is top secret,
so secret I don’t even know it,
and we fear what we don’t know so I fear it,
but like most of us when scared we don’t really show it,

no fear with my dearest,
our Soul is one with the Spirit I’m serious and delirious,

no Eddie Murphy no tricks up my sleeve,
go ahead and search me you’ll find that all that’s on me,
is all that you need which is love and no mercy,
so don’t believe everything you read between the lines or see,

see?

I found that I’m lost,
after I lost what I found,
so I guess this is the end,
or maybe it’s the other way around,
key the deja vu key the deja vu,
I’ll see you at the sacred burial grounds,
it’ll be a party a carnival,
as the Merry-Go-Round makes merry go rounds,

and Mary and Jehova hunt the Red October in the Puget Sound.

No sounds,

it’s like a silent movie,
no Charlie Chaplin just a sorry Chaplain,
man fck all these pathetic *******,
they all seem outdated strung out and stagnate,
sedated ***** all soft and mushy,
most guys tell lies then turn those lies into movies,
and I watch them all in silence still preaching stop the violence,
and they’re still screamin’ sue me!

See I see that everything’s not so black and white,
so I don't take a stand I stay silent sit down and write,
when I feel trapped I escape out the stress when I write these words,
scribing my confessions whether fact or fiction praying these prayers will be heard.

– ∆  Aaron LA Lux ∆ –

author of The Poetry Trilogy
author of The H Trilogy

Red eyes no bullseye,
high off our mark,
distracted by addictions,
it’s apparent from our scars,

scars,
lit,
far,
in,
tense,
don’t know where the day went,
intense so I escape in a tent,
camp out just to lamp out without any ill intent.

Since when,

did our past define us,
our destiny we manifest,
sometimes we have to remind us,
that we angels were Heaven sent,

that scent,
mixes with the wind,
sea breeze and coconut knees,
I’m ready when you are just say when,

since when,
were names so appropriate,
Scarlet’s a darling far from a harlot,
actually she’s abstaining,

since when,
were you so absent from class that,
you forgot the facts that,
all women are divine even when abstinent,

honestly,
I’d rather be,
laying in this hammock with a Goddess that’s abstinent,
than rubbing,
when clubbing,
wasting time with a drunken **** that will soon be a has been,

not even a faction,
not even a fact,
I want the real artist,
I don’t want a bad act,

I want laughter,
I want rushes,
and with her we get all that,
it all comes in bunches,

her inner instinct is distinct,
and much more than just what a hunch is,

what’s for lunch kid?

Let’s have a pic-nic this instant and then get down to business,
actually let’s scrap the deal and forget all about business,

let’s get up let’s get up let’s get up and ride like the wind,
let’s let God be our witness,

we’re in this,
no limits,
no gimmicks,
no scrimmage,
no sewage,
no sadness,
no losers,
so tragic,
the truth is,
abusers,
abuse but,
their tactics are madness,
so when they step,
we make them back track with,
apologies “So sorry please,
I didn’t mean to try to take,
all of your Light Energy.”,
ok I accept their pleas,
then tell the fickle fleas “Peace,
I think it’s time for you all to flee.”,

And their gone,
along the whispers in the wind,
and we’re in the hammock again,
Scarlet and I off the mark and still high,
gone like the wind our world continues to spin,
distracted by our addictions,
which is apparent from the scars we wear on the body we’re currently in,

with red eyes,
no bullseye,
no bullSh!t,
just true facts,

think about the best thing you could ever do in your life,
and rest assured we’ve done are doing or will do that.

All true in other words,
all true facts,

from Venus to Mars with,
a darling named Scarlet,
she leaves a print on my soul,
no crayon or marker,

no mark,
no start,
no finish,
no gimmicks,
just this,
life we live that we live to the limit,

with words that are all true,
in other words all true facts.

Vague,
yet exact,
we rush forward,
then step back,
heartbeats and feelings,
all part of our lives’ soundtrack,

Sounds rap,
upon the windows of my soul,
in the form of the flicker in her eyes,
which is a response to the moon’s glow,

and it is then that I know,

that she is a magical creature,
that I could write about on pages for ages,
but then I feel her beauty is so pure,
that I don’t even wish to display it on literary stages,

so I just stop writing,
and give one last look at her by candlelight,
I give thanks for her in this moment,
then I finish my rhyme and go outside into the tropical moon night…

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

Everybody’s staring again,
wherever I go whether they know or not,
I see the stares and it doesn’t matter,
if you’re taking my time you’re taking my pain,

what’s to gain,
from all this trouble,
I put my headphones on and try to focus,
but their staring again and it’s distracting,

fck this,
I want to explode like a supernova,
you don’t know me you want to know me,
I’d show you the truth but you’d be scared,

they always want to love you from a safe distance,
well with love there is no always and no distance is safe,
facts folks facts,
I’m off my axis writing in undefined prose,

what’s the pattern here,
there is no pattern here,
I’m getting bored I’m done here,
“Hey do you want to get out of here?”

Let’s go,
find a place,
where we can be,
period.

Want to take all this pain,
and push it into the world,
turn it into beauty,
change it into medicine,

oh man,
he’s on one again,
on that “Saving the world” spiel,
what’d they slip in his coffee today,

he’s acting strange,
and everybody’s staring,
like they know something great when they see it,
even if they don’t know exactly what that thing is,

what am I,
I don’t know and don’t have time to care,
got words to think and books to write,
got history to make before I get out of here,

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“Everybody’s staring again,
and I’m starting to feel uncomfortable.”

The king of awkward feeling strange on his throne,
I guess the best thing about being a runaway is you’re always home.

Or you’re never home,
and everywhere you roam everybody  stares,
wherever I go whether they know or not,
I see the stares and it doesn’t matter,
if you’re taking my time you’re taking my pain,

“What are you staring at?!?!”

Really I want to know,
because I’ve been trying to figure it out for years,
been to every continent,
and still I have no idea,

you are forcing me to not care,
taking hope and making my favorite word “whatever”,
whatever I feel exceptionally dizzy and want to throw up,
everybody’s staring the world is spinning I’m at a cafe in Budapest,

a table full of girls asked,
“What did you eat?”
I answer truthfully,
“Nothing, I just woke up.”

I was just stood up,
or maybe I missed my date because I just slept in,
I don’t know anymore because I feel disconnected from everyone,
and the further away I feel the more I see them stare…

Everybody’s staring again,
wherever I go whether they know or not,
I see the stares and it doesn’t matter,
if you’re taking my time you’re taking my pain…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

author of The H Trilogy
author of The Poetry Trilogy

A Contemporary Dance

I still smell you on me,
you’ve only just left,
and I want you back already,
I found with you I’m at a loss for words,

fck it,
let’s just get married,
gotta marry someone,
so why not marry you,

why not marry me,
marry me,
I know that seems sudden,
but honestly I’m ready,

you’re ready,
what are our other options,
continue to go through life,
having *** and feeling haunted,

honest,
let’s do this,
I’m ready if you are,
together we can go through this,

I don’t want to die alone,
and either of us could die tomorrow,
let’s tie the knot before we kick the bucket,
I’m for sure 100% not at all impartial,

I know where I stand,
in truth no need to lie,
I raise my right hand and kneel on my left knee,
before I look into your eyes and testify.

Met at Picasso,
made love before we ever touched,
you are a dancer tiptoeing on my heart strings,
and I’m all in but stop me if this is all too much.

I am a writer,
a poet to be specific,
and you are the most beautifully honest sonnet,
you’re both pure and you’re explicit,

a contemporary dancer,
that has all the right moves,
and I’m willing to risk it all right now,
I’m willing to risk losing everything as long as I don’t lose you.

So hold me,
at least pretend you’ll never let me go,
and I’ll put a ring on it right now,
just to prove that this is not all for show,

let’s go,
all in with each other,
don’t let go,
hold me for at least forever,

forget it,
i guess I said too much,
I still smell you on me,
even though you’re out of sight and touch,

I still smell you on me,
you’ve only just left,
and I want you back already,
I found with you I’m at a loss for words,

fck it,
let’s just get married,
gotta marry someone,
so why not marry you,

why not marry me,
marry me,
I know that seems sudden,
but honestly I’m ready…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Hey America I love you but,
I don’t think we should elect a president right now.
We really just need some time to be free,
and to find ourselves.

Yours Truly,

Aaron LA Lux

∆

Joan of Arc

I’m on Noah’s ark,
with Jane’s Addiction,
a heroine like Joan of Arc,
I am a woman with All The Kings Men,

I’m undeniable facts I’m undefinable fiction,
a different kind of combination,
in a different kind of conversation,
on a different kind of mission,

listen,
I am the link they say’s been missin,

I am street,
I am class,
I am good,
I am bad,
I am this,
I am that,
I am real,
I am counterfeit,

This is honesty is all it’s honestness,

I am a prophet on topic,
when talking on topics,
I’m underground I’m pop hits,
I’m Hippy I’m Gothic,
I’m ignorant I’m conscious,
I’m cocky I’m modest,
and I say this all and they hate it all,
saying I have an ego even though I’m just being honest,

I’m silence to those that fear,
I’m music to those with ears that hear,
I paint pictures of scriptures to psy-optics,
on heads to heads to help those that are confused to see clear,

see we’re,
both casual and severe,
our attention goes elsewhere,
even when our bodies are still here,

oh dear,

I’m on Noah’s ark,
with Jane’s Addiction,
a heroine like Joan of Arc,
I am a woman with All The Kings Men,

I’m undeniable facts I’m undefinable fiction,
a different kind of combination,
in a different kind of conversation,
on a different kind of mission,

listen,
I am the link they say’s been missin’…

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

author of The Poetry Trilogy
author of The H Trilogy

Budapest

It’s an odd hour in Budapest,
that time when one finds themselves all alone,
passing vagrants who rummage through the trash,
searching for scraps of whatever and possibly some salvation,

I’d been drinking,
which I guess is good and bad,
coming fresh off of a philosophical conversation,
with an ideological Kiwi,

I couldn’t crush her ideological exuberance,
with my aged cynicism,
even if I’d wanted to,
because I respected her passionate optimism too much,

or not enough,
either way,
I was as alone now,
as I was before I met her,
except I felt lonelier,
because we all feel lonelier,
after having had the company of a friend,
or a stranger,
whatever,
it doesn’t matter now,

I’m several drinks in,
and I’m back at my rooftop apartment,
across from The Dohany Street Synagogue,
retreating into my writing which is where I find myself now,

at this odd hour in Budapest,
that time when one finds themselves all alone,
passing vagrants who rummage through the trash,
searching for scraps of whatever and possibly some salvation…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

author of The Poetry Trilogy
author of The H Trilogy
∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆
∆ ∆ ∆
∆

America’s Son


Dear America,
what have you become,
so busy worried about where you’re going,
that you’ve forgotten where you’re from,

I am your begotten son,

and I love you,

I love you,
more than these wonderful words can say,
I love you but I don’t know what to do,
because I fear that you’ve gone astray,

like an abusive drunken Trump father,
or a used up distracted Hilary mother,

you seem so drunkenly enraged by greed,
engaged in a lustful want that you falsely believe is a need,

Oh say can you see,
by the dawn’s early light,
we bomb people we’ve never even seen before,
something must be wrong because nothing feels right,

why,
why am I scared of you,

maybe it’s your violent tendencies,
maybe it’s your egotistical ways,
maybe it’s how you’ve created all these enemies,
and now these enemies won’t just leave us alone and go away,

Oh say,
can you see,
by the dawn’s early light,
you are my parents and I look up to you,
I love to see the Statue of Liberty’s guiding light,

but honestly,
at this point I don’t know what to do,
I am your son,
and even after all you’ve put me through I still love you,

but I am absolutely terrified at what you’ve become,
what we’ve all become,
and even when I run far away to try and escape,
I realize we are family so no matter how far I run,

I am still an American,
because I am America’s Son,

come,
back home,
back to the times of apple pies peace and butterflies,
before,
the drones,
and satellites appeared ominously like shooting stars in the summer skies,

come,
inside,
let’s talk about life over home cooked pie,

like why have we had to capitalize off destruction,
why do we still have war what is it’s real function,
why destroy when we can construct a constant connection,
a solid foundation with good intentions and clear instructions,

so we can finally heal and move forward as a family that properly functions,

be a good husband,
be a good wife,
be a good person,
have a good life,

look,
it’s not that complicated,
see all us children would forgive all your mistakes,
if only you’d just admit that you made them,

he served two tours in Iraq gave his all and lost his life,
and all he got in return is the grave you gave him,

God please save him,

he was a good kid,
even though he killed,
he did it because his Uncle Sam told him to,
please don’t place him beneath us in Hell,

Uncle Sam didn’t know any better either,
and it seems his parents had raised him quite well,
but Uncle Sam’s not his brother’s keeper,
I am and I know my brothers well,
and when any of us lose any of our lives,
we only pray we leave with a story to tell,

because maybe we believe,
that when we leave this life we lead,
at least we leave the world a little bit better,
from sea to shining sea,

at least,
a little bit,
better…

Whatever,
what more do you want me to say,
I love you I am your son,
but I’m scared and that feeling won’t go away,

Oh say,
can you see,
by the dawn’s early light,
I write by the light of the bright stars,
and through these words I’ve earned my stripes,

and honestly America,
as much as I distrust and despise you I still put no one above you,
even though I’m ashamed of you for invading our privacy like an enema,
I don’t even trust you anymore and I used to only trust you,
you’re like a blemish on otherwise perfect skin like eczema,
I’m embarrassed of the ways in which you’ve behaved and all you’ve put us through,

but I am still your begotten son,

and I still love you…

Oh say can you see,
by the dawn’s early light…

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

author of The Poetry Trilogy
author of The H Trilogy
∆

https://www.amazon.com/Trilogy-City-Angels-Aaron-Lux/dp/1535054328

Picasso’s Abyss

In Budapest my hands hurt,
goes with the broken heart,
tried to keep it all together,
but sometimes things just fall apart,

beautiful art,
at the castle today,
Pablo Picasso,
a few dozen of his works on display,

I’m dismayed,
how lost we’ve all become,
can’t see we’re all family,
can’t see your brother only see Pokemon,

okie dokie son,

I guess the game is over,
congratulations and well done,

where are you from,
where are you at,
currently I’m in Budapest,
the Buda Castle to be exact,

looking across the Danube,
sun sets upon the parliament,
and it seems another day has gone,
did have some time to spare but now I don’t know where it went,

time must be an illusion because there’s no signs to where it’s gone,
my hands hurt my head hurts my feet hurt still I must travel on,

writing tales of futuristic history,
out in the world and on the internet,

Heaven sent,
you’re Heaven blessed,
child your an Angel,
to this I must confess,

in Budapest,
and my hands hurt,
tried to keep a good grip,
but sometimes things just fall apart,

into the abyss,
into the darkness of Picasso,
into the impermanence of all of us,
here today gone tomorrow…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

author of The Poetry Trilogy

...Our bodies,
clothed,
our souls,
naked,
our Selves,
exposed,
under the glow,
so sacred,
the glow,
of the deep red moon,
in it’s eclipse,
in our eclipse,
more than epic,
everything all of it,
love crazy as a lunatic,
this is honestness,
in all honestness,
all of us,
involved not embroiled,
incense,
and oils,

timeless heirlooms of pheromones,
undertones of unknowns future plans postponed,
the core of our chromosomes covered in ecstatic moans,
the world our throne ET finally phoned home,
emotions amplified no microphone,
thrown into our sensory’s cyclone,
zoning in the zone she shook me to my bones,

bones,
ashes,
dust,
memories,

amnesia memories,
for as quickly as she’d appeared,
she vanished in an instant,
gone like a forgotten prophecy…

from The H Trilogy Vol. 1
available worldwide
∆

Just give me ONE reason why I should care about any of this.
Seriously.
∆

She winged her eyeliner,
as if the wings could help her fly away,
and every time she blinked her eyes,
she felt maybe she could fly away,

so she blinked,
whenever something happened,
whenever someone snapped and,
then she'd run away and try to wash away the worries from her face into the sink,

but whenever she'd wash her face it'd sting,
the pain would remain,
on her soul like a stain,
and the only thing that would be washed away would be her wings...

∆

Volume 1
The H Trilogy
City of Angels
I just published a new book.
If you could take a moment to check it out,
and even write a review it'd be most appreciated.
All profits go to a charity that prevents child abuse and ****** assault.
So not only are you getting an epic book of poetry,
but you're also supporting a good cause.
Thank you SO much!
∆
https://www.amazon.com/Trilogy-City-Angels-Aaron-Lux/dp/1535054328

America’s Got Presidents


Lights camera action,
who’s up next,
politician,
or dumbsh!t pundit?

Oh I see,
everybody’s an expert,
man these candidates have switched sides so many times,
watching them flip-flop this much makes my neck hurt!

Candidate’s wearing make-up,
if you ask me it’s all a cover-up,
blemishes on their records,
when’s enough actually enough,

on stages,
synthetic sages make up stories,
while the police keep stuffing us into cages,
and the politicians keep talking about reclaiming America’s lost glory.

America’s lost glory what glory,
the one about us bombing innocents or the one about slaves,
well if that’s the glory then it’s not lost,
because the US still bombs innocents and pays most people a slave wage.

It’s fckn depressing,
these pop-star presidents,
jockeying for position,
just for a chance at a White House residence.

On a stage,
it’s a sad charade,
all these bad actors,
pointing fingers trying to shift the blame,

laaaaaame!

All they do is talk different when in front of a mic,
but behind closed doors they all act the same,
different costumes different connotations maybe,
but really there’s no significant difference because there’s no significant change.

It’s an act a sham a show,
pop star presidents hip hop rock and roll,
Barack stars sing about change without any evidence,
if you ask me they’ve all gotta go,

and this election year is no better,
if anything it’s worse,
you’ve got Hillary Clinton AKA Barack Light,
and of course running is another Bush,
then there’s Donald Trump,
who’s legitimately probably the Anti-Christ,
he’s a racist sexist selfish sociopathic narcissist,
he doesn’t want to debate anything he just wants to fight.

But what about Bernie Sanders,
people ask, “Are you feeling the Bern?”,
I mean the guy’s a 74 year old career politician socialist,
he’s gonna try and take half of everything I earn.

Sure,
I’d vote for him I guess,
outta desperation only,
because maybe it’d take someone that extreme to get us outta this mess,
but honestly he’s a bumble bee,
poking at the hornet’s nest,
I’d bet if he becomes a real threat to the one Corporate Establishent want’s to elect,
that the speech where he accepts ends with one of his last breaths.

Yup.

America the beautiful,
when’d you become such a bully,
you used to be my best friend,
but now you act like you don’t even know me,
you’re blood lust is revolting,
why’s your answer to everything violence,
and how can you say you speak for the people,
when most of the people are so fed up they just shut up and stay silent,

and even if we do get out and vote,
these days our votes aren’t even counted what gives,
what you think it’s just a coincidence,
that almost every state Hilary won was accused of being rigged?

I feel sick.

This political pile of tricks politics seems like a pile of ****t,
and the media’s forcing it down our throat,
I mean really what are we supposed to do,
when those that feel outcasted can’t even get the system to count their cast votes.

So I take notes.

And I write.

I write,
all of this with typing hands and a shaking head,
because I want a leader I can truly trust and believe in,
instead of some actor that can’t be trusted no matter what they’ve said.

Red,
state,
blue,
state,
red,
fish,
blue,
fish,

I’m not a Jew,
I’m only half so I’m Jew-ish,
and I’m not trying to be rude,
or to sound too prudish,
it’s just,
the history of half my people,
is filled with those that want to ***** us,
so the bait and switch poli-tricks these politicians politic,
well they’re Grand Old Party is nothing new to us.

Who to trust,
who to trust,
we’re tired of feeling like Lewinsky,
giving oral to the Oval Office and getting nothing back but fckt.

Fck.

When is enough enough,
no is supposed to mean no,
but we get it no **** on the ****** tube,
***; Slave & Master we’re all Lady Liberty’s ******* so on with the show!

Lights camera action,
who’s up next,
politician,
or dumbsh!t pundit?

Oh I see,
everybody’s an expert,
man these candidates have switched sides so many times,
watching them flip-flop this much makes my neck hurt.

Candidate’s wearing make-up,
if you ask me it’s all a cover-up,
blemishes on their records,
when’s enough actually enough?

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆
∆
Volume 1
The H Trilogy:
The City of Angels
Just published on 7/7/16.
Somehow it was #1 worldwide today.
If you could take a moment to check it out,
and even write a review it'd be most appreciated.
All profits go to a charity that prevents child abuse and ****** assault.
So not only are you getting an epic book of poetry,
but you're also supporting a good cause.
Thank you SO much!
∆
https://www.amazon.com/Trilogy-City-Angels-Aaron-Lux/dp/1535054328

We’re in this,
no limits,
no gimmicks,
no scrimmage,
no sewage,
no sadness,
no losers,
so tragic,
the truth is,
abusers,
abuse but,
their tactics are madness,
so when they step,
we make them back track with,
apologies “So sorry please,
I didn’t mean to try to take,
all of your Light Energy.”,
ok I accept their pleas,
then tell the fickle fleas “Peace,
I think it’s time that all you flee.”,

And their gone,
along the whispers in the wind,
and we’re in the hammock again,
Scarlet and I off the mark and still high,
gone like the wind our world continues to spin,
distracted by our addictions,
which is apparent from the scars I wear on the body I’m currently in,

With red eyes,
no bullseye,
no bullSh!t,
just true facts,

think about the best thing you could ever do in your life,
and rest assured we’ve done are doing or will do that...

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Volume 1
The H Trilogy
City of Angels
I just published a new book.
If you could take a moment to check it out,
and even write a review it'd be most appreciated.
All profits go to a charity that prevents child abuse and ****** assault.
So not only are you getting an epic book of poetry,
but you're also supporting a good cause.
Thank you SO much!
∆
https://www.amazon.com/Trilogy-City-Angels-Aaron-Lux/dp/1535054328