00:00 Valentines Day

It’s midnight,
and I’m,
alone again,
trying to fill the time,
with these words I write,

watched the Grammy’s last night,
Twenty One Pilots,
standing there in their underwear,
reminding us that we can be,
anything,

Hollywood,
my home,
so many people,
at the Grammy’s,
I’ve met and befriended,

but sometimes,
the enthusiasm seems so gone,
it feels like we’re living,
after the credits when the film has ended,

like,

what’s happened to us,
where have we gone,
and why,
do we still feel,
so totally alone,

supposed to be gone by the morning,
flight to Cabo to pick up my truck,
just flew in from Australia,
found letters from the IRS in my PO Box,
welcome home boy now it’s time to pay your tax,

met my accountant tonight,
gave him all the paperwork,
we chatted for a minute in his Range Rover,
I made a joke about having a black accountant,
he reminded me of the Basquiat photo I’d given him,

Basquiat in the 80’s,
looking awkward as fck,
holding a FroZade cup in his hand,
a crooked No Parking sign standing by,
and the ‘ol Twin Towers towering in the hazed background,

another genius gone before his time,
sometimes the art we create is ahead of us,
sometimes we have to watch our success from the Heavens,
1 2 3 4 5 6 7,
8 9 10 11,
12,

It’s midnight,
and I’m,
alone again,
trying to fill the time,
with these words I write,

watched the Grammy’s last night,
Twenty One Pilots,
standing there in their underwear,
reminding us that we can be,
anything…

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

1301

My 1300th poem,
was ‘Diamond Triangles’,
didn’t even plan that,
now I see why they say I’m Illuminati,

33 triangles tattooed to my body,

in room #1301 now,
13th floor of the hotel,
13th floor room #1,
it’s always on for real,

no off switch,
so no we don’t switch,
on the offense we don’t snitch,
our defense airtight got the game sewed & stitched,

tight as our lips are because loose lips still sink cruise ships,

all in no pretend all real for real 100% legit,
I’m ready if you’re ready come on let’s get it,

let’s go now,
the time has never been better,
let’s pow wow & wow how,
this weather as in this reign has never been wetter,

or greater,
compliments to the Haters,
because you haven’t made it till they hate it,
so I’m grateful for the confirmation from the Haters,

we’re here to Rock The Nation,
shout out to RocNation,
shout out to Jay Z see we’re all Gods,
all it took was a combination of carpe diem & patience,

a combination between futuristic technologies & wisdom from The Ancients,

know the difference,
between patience & hesitation,
I thank my Dad for teaching me that,
see he taught me a lot of those “what not to do” lessons,

learned what not to do through his actions,
so I could prevent them & not grow up like him,
& that’s not to say I don’t love him because I do,
& that's mentioned to clarify that I didn’t write this just to spite him,

kinda like,
why I wear these diamonds,
which isn’t to show off no nah,
I wear them because diamonds are enlightening,

just look at the way they catch the light,
see real diamonds are a sure thing,
just like these words I write,
on the luckiest floor in this whole building floor #13,

writing my 1300th poem,
was ‘Diamond Triangles’,
didn’t even plan that,
now I see why they say I’m Illuminati,

33 triangles tattooed to my body,

in room #1301 now,
13th floor of the hotel,
13th floor room #1,
it’s always on for real,

especially when it’s Strange :30,
& it’s Strange :30 again,
so I guess it’s time to sign off,
with a goodnight & a Thee End...

from '777' available worldwide on Amazon
www.amazon.com/dp/1548700746

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

she is fine as hell,
doesn't even own a car,
still she's ready to go and I'm ready to roll,
so let's go drive our hearts into tomorrow,
her skin glows more than 24k gold,
use me please babe I can be borrowed,

just please leave the ego,
check your ego at the door,
of perception no deception,
only reflections reflecting us more,

cardinals and directions,
robins and gremlins,
goblins and demons,
land mimes and sea men,
see man she can get any man,
because her skin is pure adrenaline,
she’s the disease she’s the medicine,
she's dark like African and light like Edison,

high in the Hollywood Hills,
swimmin’ in infinity pools,
intent on intent,
and also indecisive in a sense,

in any event at every event,
she shines more than any lame in a designer dress,
because she looks better no matter whatever the attire,
no makeup and sweatpants she's still the best dressed...

The H Trilogy

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 ****** assault against children.
So not only are you getting an epic book of poetry,
but you're also supporting a good cause.
Thank you SO much
∆
Here are the links for my new book:

www.amazon.com/dp/B01I4621OE

www.createspace.com/6393238

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/

Games on,
and a lot of players are playing games,
but the jokes on you if your card’s the Fool,
don’t be read can’t blame the player blame the game,

so spin the wheel pick a number,
act it out name that tune,
but don’t debate what the haters say,
because love will conquer all,

because at the end of the day,
that’s all that really matters,
so show me what’s real now,
or see you later…

∆ LaLux ∆

A Beautiful Hurt

So you hurt.

So what,
We all do.

But the beauty hurts so good.

And the miseries of our past,
can only define our future if we let them,
these memories we hold onto from the past,
we are not them.

Your Scars,
are watercolors,

your Demons,
make beautiful music,

your Hearts,
beat for all tomorrows,

your Passions,
always conquer all your sorrows.

But let’s,
not be destructive,

for that’s,
not our heart's true function,

once in,
this life,
there’s only one way out, and there’s no need to rush it,

and yes,
we have more than our fair share of problems,
but there’s no need to stress it,
we all have problems and learn from our mistakes,
so when we make a major mistake there's no reason to regret it,

so whatever.

So you hurt.

So what,
we all do.

But the beauty hurts so good.

And that makes our moments of bliss,
that much more beautiful,
shine your Lovelight Joseph,
upon that darkness like you're Lucifer,
you are a fckn ∆rtist even when you're delusional,

and you harness the chaos to harass the mundane,
and show the whole world the beauty you can make from the pain.

You're a monster,
tuned into the frequency all real no gimmicks,
an emotional alchemist turning hurt into heal,
making beats because those we love live forever through our music RIP Mingus.

When you finally find freedom again,
you will find the illusion of Time to just be a diluted delusion of Mind,

find,
freedom,
right here,
within your Self,

no one can make you do anything you don’t wanna do,
even when they tell you their totally skewed world views are true,

most of this is just distractions anyways,
what is the worth of their emotions anyways,
I’ll love you unconditionally anyways,
because true love is expressed in many ways,

no matter what the cause for the confusion is,
contusions with bruises and welts on Self,
beat your ego up and down until you scream in mercy,
until you give up all of you including your Self,
until you stop fighting and you let go, let go,
so you can go!

So,
you hurt.

So what,
we all do.

But the beauty hurts so good.

– ∆ 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

It took,
one of the most beautiful sunsets,
I’ve ever seen in my life,
to get me to write again,

I’ve been taking a sabbatical from personal periodicals,
not that it was premeditated,
it was or rather is,
that I hadn’t felt motivated,

still don’t really feel inspired,
even after such a beautiful sunset,
which I watched from seat 1A,
in the front row of an aircraft,

another First Class flight,
this one shorter than most,
SFO to LAX,
been around the world but still I rep Westcoast,

the girl next to me missed the whole thing,
she was and is still fast asleep,
but the guy across from me saw it,
probably the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen,

see he’s a Navy Seal,
so I guess I don’t really know,
the Lord and He,
are the only ones that know what he’s seen,

at any rate the sunset was beautiful,
like I said one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen,
missed the first half because my view was blocked,
by a gay couple and their cell phone screens,

jeez,

can’t we ever just have a moment with Beauty,
without having to feel like we have to capture it,
why is it the first thing most people think when they see something beautifull,
is “Oh yeah I should take a picture of this!”,

and then their interest usually only last,
as long as it takes to take that photo,
then they go back to doing whatever they were doing,
before they were interrupted with something so beautiful,

but I’ll take a Beautiful Interruption before a Mundane Day any day,
I’ve always been one for the inspiration that comes with impromptu moments,
I’ve learned to Love unconditionally Beauty in the instantaneous moments Beauty exists,
I’ve learned to be able to appreciate something without having to have the urge to own it,

lost a lat of Love before I learned that lesson,
but better late than never,
so now I write these memoirs,
to help us all act better,

because there’s always room to improve,
and that’s whey I stretch out in my yoga practice,
take moments to meditate and put it all in perspective,
because that’s the only way to stay balanced in a world off it’s axis,

see the US government shutdown today,
January 20th 2018,
and here I am on plane flying 1st class,
from San Francisco to Los Angeles,

and even though,
it’s only an hour long flight,
it was day when we took off,
and now we’re about to land and it’s night,

amazing how much can change in an hour,
sometimes an hour can change a whole life,
and I’m reminded of all of this on this airplane,
as I gaze amazed at an amazing site,

that of one of,
the most beautiful sunsets I’ve ever seen in my life,

it took,
one of the most beautiful sunsets,
I’ve ever seen in my life,
to get me to write again,

I’ve been taking a sabbatical from personal periodicals,
not that it was premeditated,
it was or rather is,
that I hadn’t felt motivated,

still don’t really feel inspired,
even after such a beautiful sunset,
which I watched from seat 1A,
in the front row of an aircraft,

another First Class flight,
this one shorter than most,
SFO to LAX,
been around the world but still I rep Westcoast…

∆ LaLux ∆

New Book Available FREE Worldwide Here: www.scribd.com/document/367036005

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 ∆

My ADHD Is SO Bad,
That I'm Already Bored With Reading This...
∆

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 ∆

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

American Refugee


Head feels like a ton of bricks,
trying to retrace my misstepped steps…

Where have I awoken?

What country am I in?

Who was that girl last night?

Why did I choose to go through it again?

When will I finally say enough is enough?

Enough is enough.

Why does the poison feel so good?

I love everything that hates me,
alcohol and cigarettes,
promiscuous girls date me,
but only for a night…

A night was had,
dancing music,
flirting new friends,
we were all in it together,
a glorious moment,
with people from all over the world,
we were on top of the world,
surfing on a rocket,
on Cloud Nine with some fine felines,
bumping beats with a pocket full of sunshine,
flashy lights and flashy ladies,
drinks on me,
literally,
drinks on me,

I felt like we all felt,
so together,
so how’d I end up,
so all alone,
nursing a hangover,
with poached eggs and mochaccinos,
served by a surprisingly cute waitress,
at a cafe somewhere in New Zealand…

Head feels like a ton of bricks,
trying to retrace my steps…

I came here,
to this country,
to escape Hollywood,
where I was trapped in it’s trapping trappings,

trapped in it’s clubs,
trapped in it’s women,
trapped in it’s drugs,
trapped in it’s cliches,
so why is it,
I found myself,
on the other side of the world,
at club with some women on drugs trapped in this same cliche?

Same ****t,
different country,
I guess you can take the boy outta Hollywood,
but you can’t take the Hollywood outta the boy…

I am the world’s first American Refugee,
except I didn’t come on a boat,
in ragged clothes clinging to my body,
and ragged hopes clinging to my psyche,

I came,
on an airplane,
in a first class seat,
dining on the offerings of a corporate worldwide empire,

but it is not the means of movement,
it is the intention behind the actions that matters,

and I came,
with the intention to create a healthier life,
a cleaner life,
a better future for myself and all those I love.

I am an American Refugee,

I am an American Refugee,
fleeing the subconscious oppressions of my country,
fleeing the persecution of all things I held holy and sacred,
I am tired of witnessing the spiritual ****** of my falling comrades,

I am a American Refugee,
more specifically,
a Hollywood Refugee,
fleeing the bright lights and large egos,
searching for solace and refuge,
amongst the towering rainforest trees of New Zealand,

I fled the toxic water the toxic air and the toxic people,
to drink fresh water breathe clean are and befriend friendly people,

so why,
why,
why would I subject myself,
to the same oppressions that I’ve attempted to flee from?

Justin Bieber echoed across the dance floor,

“Is it to late to say I’m sorry now?
Yeah I know that I let you down,
is it too late to say I’m sorry now?”

“I’m sorry.”,

“Sorry.”,

“Sorry.”,

“Yeah I know that I let you down,
is it too late to say I’m sorry now?”,

and as cheesy and cliche as it sounds,
I get the chills because I knew exactly what he was saying,
and I wondered if anyone else in that club was an American Refugee,
I wondered if anyone else in that club knew what Justin Bieber was saying,
or if they were just dancing because of the beat,
and they were just singing along because that’s what they think they’re supposed to do,
because most people have to be told what’s cool,
then force fed that coolness until they have too many pairs of shoes,

no amount of shoes will ever bring you real happiness,
and I honestly apologize,
we Hollywoodians were put in a position to lead the free world,
and everyone listened to us,
you all listened to us,
you gave us your ears and your hearts,
your souls and your minds,
and all we gave you were improbable dreams,
and glorious visions,
of an unsustainable lifestyle that you go broke trying to duplicate,

when will you realize you can chase,
but you can never catch something that doesn’t really exist?

And I’m sorry,
but I give up,
I’m done,
because,

“Yeah I know once more I’ve let you down,
is it too late to say I’m sorry now?”.

I’m sick and tired so I’m retiring,
I’m retreating to build a retreat,
somewhere in New Zealand,
where I can be free again,

and I’ve finally made it here,
but it seems mentally I’m not prepared,
because I’m still going to clubs with a bunch of girls,
then getting used up foolishly because I foolishly thought they cared,

who cares?

I don’t want the weight of the world on my shoulders anymore,
I don’t need all eyes on me,
I just want to get rid of all my wants,
so that I can finally be freed and have all that I need,

you must get rid of your wants,
so you can do what you like,

and I do feel a little bit relieved to finally be in New Zealand,
but honestly the weight of the world is still on my shoulders,

I still can’t shake this feeling,
that I’m just going through the routine,
as I write these words on this laptop,
and fuel my words with free range eggs and caffeine,

up on this mountain all alone,
even though I’m at a crowded cafe,
and it feels like sunrise,
even though it’s already mid-day,

my head feels like a ton of bricks,
trying to retrace my misstepped steps…

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

author of

The Poetry Trilogy
The Holy Trilogy
The HH Trilogy

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

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 ∆

The Holy Trilogy Vol. 1; 11/11/16
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N3QR3E4

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 ∆

Volume 1 of my new trilogy about Hollywood is now available worldwide.
I’ve decided to donate ALL of the profits of this new trilogy to three charities.
Volume 1 profits will go to a charity that prevents ****** abuse and assault on children.
Please support my new book and by doing so you’ll not only be helping prevent ****** assault, but you’ll also be helping set an important precedent in making a statement to other artist,
saying that we all need to start giving back and helping each other more than we have.
PLUS you’ll also be getting an epic book of poetry from an epic best selling poet.
Let’s make charity cool and change the perception of coolness for the better.
Who cares what car you drive or what clothes you wear anymore?
What now matters is what you’re doing to help those with less.
We all live in this world we together and we can all give more.

It took me six months and thousands of dollars to create this trilogy in it’s entirety,
and all I am asking is for is a few dollars and a few minutes of your time.
We made the last book I published #1 and we can do it again.
Purchase a copy for less than it cost for a cup of coffee,
and WRITE AN HONEST REVIEW about the book.
If you really don’t have 3 dollars to spend,
at least repost this message,
or respond to this message,
or something,
anything.
∆

Here is the link for purchasing/reviewing the book: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01I4621OE

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

Amnesia Deja Vu

Amnesia Deja Vu,
or Deja Va Amnesia,
don’t remember to remember to,
but I do remember repeating,

please,
remind me why we’re alive,
what Star are you that’s fallen,
and how have you survived,

no lie,
no woman,
no cry,

please,
remind me why we are alive,

remind me,
why I continue to right,

right now,
designated as a scribe,
to help us remember the memories,

help me help you,
so cliche and still totally true,

Amnesia,
Deja,
Vu…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

New Book Here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1540322262

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 ∆

Her eyes look past,

past my postured figure,
past the drunkard who’s ****** himself,
who sulks in his **** soaked pants,
sulking in drowned regrets and fog,

past the high heeled woman,
who steps over the drunkard’s liquid lines,
which flow across soot stained concrete,
upon this boulevard on this street in Budapest,

we could have been anywhere.

She’s in a bad mood,
doesn’t want to talk,
doesn’t want to listen,
probably doesn’t want to even live,

I understand her,
better than I care to admit,
she’s battling a lung affection,
she’s battling the delusioned stares of countless lustful men,

I tell her she doesn’t have to talk,
I tell her she doesn’t have to listen,
I tell her she’s welcome to come in,
to my sanctuary and simply exist there,

she refuses all my offers,
and I wonder,
what she sees,
when she stares past everything she sees,

I tell her I’m going to write a poem about her,
she asks why,
I tell her I’m a poet and that’s what I do,
I write about moments just like this one,

even though I know words are only words.

I know the frustration,
of trying to explain the unexplainable,
I know the frustration,
of trying to put all this in prose that’s easily digestible,

and herein,
lies the paradox,
if ignorance is bliss,
then genius is torture,

and we are both tortured,
and we are both in denial,
and we both know,
we may never see each other again.

Her eyes look past,

past my postured figure,
past the drunkard who’s ****** himself,
who sulks in his **** soaked pants,
sulking in drowned regrets and fog,

past the high heeled woman,
who steps over the drunkard’s liquid lines,
which flow across soot stained concrete,
upon this boulevard on this street in Budapest,

we could have been anywhere…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

07/09/16

I’ll never know why someone Loves me,
even if they tell me in their total truth,
it’s possible that even what they believe,
is not exactly totally true,

so I don’t question Love anymore,
I never ask a Lover if they Love me,
because honestly to me love is a verb,
it’s an action not a title,

when in Love,
or making Love,
or showing Love,
or being Love,
there is no time for questions,
why ruin bliss with curiousity,
why have to know why,
why not just accept and be,

see,

I’ll never know why someone loves me,
even if they tell me in their own total truth,
it’s possible that even what they believe,
is not exactly totally true,

through,
the Night Sky I fly,
on a flight from Athens to Cairo,
I have a date with the Pyramids,

was only in Athens for one night,
en route from Budapest,
and with all this traveling,
one might ask when do I rest,

yes,
good question,
a much better question,
than “Why does she love me?”,

Why does she love me?

I’d only just met her,
and we’d only just made love,
still she looks at me so deep,
that I swear to my soul it seems she speaks,

and I swear she’d leave,
not even pack a bag,
she would just runaway to the airport with me,
and fly away to whatever destination comes next,

in this case the Pyramids,
and I’d take her I really would,
because I’ve loved and lost enough to know,
that her Love for me is genuine forget the questions,

so I ask,
on the couch,
in that living room,
at that house in in Athens,

“Will you come with me to Egypt?”,

I pray She says yes,
and as I’m asking her that question in Athens,
on that layover to Cairo from Budapest,
her hands I’m graspin’ and my heart is hopin’,
I’m open,
as open as my invitation to her is,
and then She replies,
in words so plain and full of pain,

“I would love to come with you,
but I don’t have a passport.”

And then everything hits me instantly,
so many things become clear,
I see how wealthy I’ve become,
and I see my success through her despair,

there,
She is,
on that couch at her friends house,
with nowhere to go,

watching false idols on the internet,
fantasizing about people I’ve actually met,
and I realize in that moment,
that I’m as close asSshe’ll ever get to freedom,
I am what She wishes to be,
so of course She’d run away with me,
of course She’d explore the world and her dreams with me,
but she doesn’t even have a passport,

and I am at a loss for words,
for me She is just a layover,
no pun intended,
but I wrote it so I meant it,
and as amazing as she is,
she’s just a Greek girl,
an Athenian human being,
but not Athena and the days are over for the Byzantines,

so she’s stuck there,
in that city of Yesteryears,
flooded now with refugees,
while I’m about to catch a flight out of there,

and I want to say so much,
but sometimes there’s nothing to say,
sometimes there’s no more questions,
and all the answers are plain,

so I don’t ask a thing,
I just sit there with here and smoke,
I just bare witness to another girl’s empty dreams,
because dreams without reality are just hopes,

nope,

not going to question this,
I’m just going to write it all down,
as I fly south over the Mediterranean,
in time for a feast in Giza,

and I want to give here everything,
not just a passport but a path to freedom,
but I’m just a bad boy with a good heart,
so all I give her are these words in hopes she’ll read them,

Alexia,
I love you and I’m willing to be patient,
and when you if ever get your passport,
come find me for I’ll be here waiting,
and I can’t promise you I’ll be single,
in fact I can’t promise you a thing,
because an honest man makes no promises,
and the true embodiment of freedom wears no rings,

but I will be here,
and I will accept you in all your Midnight Lights,
and I won’t ask you any questions,
and I won’t lie to you and tell you everything’s going to be alright,

but I will accept you,
in all your Midnight Lights,
and we will just let what we don’t know rest,
and attribute those unknowns to the Mystery of Life,

and I,
I,
I,
I,

I’ll never know why someone loves me,
even if they tell me in their total truth,
it’s possible that even what they believe,
is not exactly totally true…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

The Holy Trilogy Vol. 1; Masonic Psalms from Holy Lands
available worldwide 11/11/16
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N3QR3E4

Don’t ask what time it is,
don’t ask what I think about the president,
do you understand this life you have is a miracle,
please let’s dismiss all the small talk,

you don’t have to tell me anything,
we can just be and do whatever we want,
maybe we’re Gods,
maybe we’re not,

we can be whatever we want as long as it’s honest,

and honestly,
usually when I’m out publicly,
and people are taking to me,
I see the words but I don’t hear what they’re saying,

people say I’m in my own world,
that I orbit my own planet,
shout to K. Dot from two Planets away,
see when it’s real we feel it...

The HH Trilogy Vol. 2: Nightmares & Daydreams
available worldwide:www.amazon.com/dp/B07141ZNW6

#poetry #newpoetry #hollywood #dreams

Back In America

I swear,
I’d give away every dollar I’ve ever made to charity,
if it would bring relief to the billions in need at the least,
and at the most I’d hope it could maybe contribute to world peace,

I’m back in America,
writing checks and feeling empty,
skin’s numb mind’s gone,
Death comes for everyone eventually…

Here,
have the American Dream with this beautiful house it’s turnkey…

Whoa,
it’s getting intense isn’t it,
but I guess,
it’s always been at least a little bit,

signing checks and paying taxes,
trying to balance,
on a world that’s off it’s axis,
pedal to the metal diesel by the gallons,

I.
Am.
A.
Machine.

and I swear the greatest compliment to any artist,
is that their work is something no one’s ever seen,

a defying gesture of difference,
a creation of something truly original,
a work of art that covers both sides,
both obviously brilliant and intelligently subliminal,

minimal,
maximal,
adjust,
your attitude,

this is Life,
you’re living it,
better be nice,
better be respectful,

hey you,
hello from the other side,
as far as I can tell you’re not Adele,
oh well we’re still gonna ride,

petal to the metal a Freak and a Fellow,
I’ve got it all I swear I’d give it all away,
become a lost prophet that’s lost all but the topic,
on point still so let’s get back to the point I must make,

money doesn’t buy morals,
and God of course is real,
so if you want to really be wealthy,
give more to charity so the hurt can heal,

I swear,
I’d give away every dollar I’ve ever made to charity,
if it would bring relief to the billions in need at the least,
and at the most I’d hope it could maybe contribute to world peace,

I’m back in America,
writing checks and feeling empty,
skin’s numb mind’s gone,
Death comes for everyone eventually…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Be Quick

I’m on the back of His Enduro,
through the alkaline dust of the desert,
we ride by the full moon’s light,
the three Pyramids of Giza casting perfectly measured silhouettes,

so dark they could be shadows,

and we both know time is of the essence,
so we are trying to Be Quick,

I’ve got a train to catch,
a one way ticket to Luxor,
but they say life is the journey not the destination,
so we’re always going even if we don’t always know where,

here,

on the back of this bike,
I hold on to Him for dear life,
as the back wheel kicks up the Sands of Time,
His bike obediently continuing into the night,

I don’t know where we are going,
but I know if I live to write about it I will,
because I am a writer and writing is what I do,
it’s my way of showing gratitude and being thankful,

He’s a writer too,
similar to me,
or maybe I’m similar to Him,
because He’s 20 years my senior,

used to live the Hollywood Life,
made films and got famous,
and now He's a non profit doctor,
helping those in need that are nameless,

I see my future in his eyes,
so when we stop atop a dune,
at a bedouin camp with the three pyramids on the moon lit horizon,
I ask Him one question,

“Are you happy?”.

He pauses,
and He answers,
with something poetically metaphorical like,
“Happiness is relative.”

And then,
He proceeds to tell me the story of his life...

He talks about Hollywood,
He talks about love and about searching,
He talks about how he gave it all up,
to come to these deserts and help those that need helping,

He reveals so much,
so much more than any of these words can translate,
and as our evening comes to an end,
I realize as amazing as our lives may be we are only men,

alone,
atop a dune in Giza,
overlooking the Great Pyramids,
trying to share knowledge without sounding like preachers,

He is Jesus,
at least as close to Jesus as I’ve ever met,
quite fitting considering He came from The City of Angels,
and I see in His eyes that for society he has wept,

and I want to stay there,
because I love Him,
I see his struggle,
and His moral dilemmas,

but I've got a train to catch,
and life waits for no man,
so we wrap up our conversation,
and travel back across those Egyptian sands,

and it is then,
that I realize,
that He is me,
in 20 years time,

He is me,
in 20 years,
and as amazing as his ways seem,
I wonder if He’s lonely and if every effort he's ever made was worth it,

and that is why I asked Him what I now ask You,

“Are you happy?”.

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆