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David Amato Jan 9
Cold air.
Wind punches the door ajar,
To reveal a humongous room.
This room consists of many individuals,
Some well aware of their surroundings,
Others not so much.

People proceed down a narrow passageway,
To board a plane to a new place.
Excruciatingly hot turbines.
High pressure doors finally closing.
We listen to the attendants long speech.

The plane finally disembarks!
We see tiny dots from our small windows,
Revealing miles and miles of space between us.
We travel from place to place,
Searching for undiscovered land,
And find just that.
I say goodbye and close my eyes.


This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License
Hey thanks for reading!
Carlo C Gomez Oct 2019
Here comes Mr. Chemtrail--
Pretty jets
Stream across the sky
By day, at night
They're tucked into cushy
Launching pads;
To sleep like us
Underneath the stars,
Drooling like a baby;
The rains of which wash away
Our Happy Tomorrow sign,
Written in sand
Across a hiraeth seashore;
With bountiful aura,
Everything is smelling like roses
Kept in the fuselage,
Waiting for a turn
To shine, perhaps ignite,
In all the glamour of
A shooting star:
Great godless geyser;
A prism of colors
Rain-bowing
Electively over funeral flowers,
This death was always meant
To be a friend with benefits,
Allowing us one last
Glorious ride into the heavens,
Before overtaken
By the undertaker;
The sky's the limit,
Steely-eyed missile man;
We're terminal now
And on final approach,
Bleed for us once more...
L'appel du vide is French and describes an intrusive thought or urge pertaining to self-destructive behaviour, that may occur during everyday activities.
Chris Jun 2019
They are the destroyers,
They have come through air,
Burning our streets and
spreading out despair,

With their stolen voices,
They have joined the laugh,
Burning through the corpses,
The righteous attack.

We are fallen warriors,
bodies rot in dirt,
We are eyes of ravens,
The blood of the earth,

With a rusty weapon,
We will spread the word,
The swords of our forefathers
are not of this world.

The cloud will spread,
The sky is dead,
Remains are bared,
The sky dies scared.

No mercy!
No freedom!
No mercy!
Lyrics to a song about the bombing of my country in 1999. Here's the link, please do check it out:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G71IJLtWODc
Toxic yeti Mar 2019
There on a
Wing of a Boeing
Was Garfield
A cat
Walking on the wing
At 30,000ft in the air.  
Am I hallucinating
Or dreaming
Or is the reality??!!
Aaron LaLux Feb 2019
At the Indigo getting into it with an Indigo,
in Tulsa or at least en route after one more round in LA,
stuntin’ in The Land of Abundance all real no frontin’,
can get anything I want except getaway,

and this all feels totally cliche,
spending time but got no time to waste,
already at redline trying not to flatline,
catching up to made up deadlines and keeping pace,

trying to lose the stress without losing my mind,
trying to win the hearts and convince the minds,
trying to do everything without having to try,
only do and do not do you like you buy,

welcome to America,
consumerism on steroids,
where we empty our pockets to fill up our closets,
empty hearts with souls for sale anything to fill the void,

everything that was ever made sacred was destroyed,
now we’ve got black artists on the radio making white noise,
where are our idols how are we supposed to look up to anyone,
but sometimes I feel like there’s no escape and I have no choice,

so I buy in in order to not be left out,
get the girl get the clothes get the hotel room,
but really I don’t feel like any of this is mine,
plus I’ve got a place to be so I should go soon,

so long farewell,
I bid you my Love good day,
but before I go let’s go one more round,
for Old Time’s sake before I make my escape out of LA,

at the Indigo getting into it with an Indigo,
in Tulsa or at least en route after one more round in LA,
stuntin’ in The Land of Abundance all real no frontin’,
can get anything I want except getaway…

∆ LaLux ∆
B Oct 2018
I can see the horizon.
I can see the ocean.
I can see the beach.
I can see cars driving.
I can see trees.
I can see buildings.
I can see birds flying.
I can see airplanes lift and land.
I can see boats out at sea.
I can see everything.
And yet I can’t see a future with you in it.
Aaron LaLux Sep 2018
Just touched down from Darwin,
2 hour layover in Sydney & I’m starvin’,
met a girl at the airport,
and invited her to dinner,

they say there’s no such thing as a free lunch,
but I’ve got a credit card that let’s me dine,
at almost any restaurant in any country,
on any continent in any dateline,

so I often invite,
beautiful girls and other fellow travelers,
to dine with me as my guest for free,
where we share stories over appetizers,

more peace stories than war stories,
more love than hate,
because when you really get to know someone,
you find you differ in less ways than you relate,

anyways,
there we were,
both on rest stops till our next stop,
two world travelers,

I’d noticed an engagement ring,
more than a modest sized rock,
but I noticed the finger on which it sat,
made the look a bit odd,

see she wore the ring,
on her ******* instead of her ring finger,
so it was more of a fck you instead of a love you,
I asked her if there was a reason for this position,

she said it was because,
it simply didn’t fit on her ring finger,
that it was a simple mix up that was it but,
I suspected there was a reason that was deeper,

so I questioned her intentions,
why was she with this man but still acting like a free woman,
why was she speaking of “exploding like a volcano!”,
when she sees a man and feels an attraction,

about how she had a fantasy,
of meeting a beautiful Australian man,
on a beach and he’d teach her to surf,
and she’d ride his surfboard from the wave to the sand,

this was when I decided to speak up,
to tell her I didn’t think this engagement would work out,
that maybe tying the knot with a man was already a dad,
was not the best idea for a woman with no kids that liked to go out,

that maybe I was in a way,
an Angel of Divine Intervention,
and how every moment of our lives,
had led us up to that instant,

I told her no man owned her,
that her body was hers alone to control,
that life is too short to compromise,
that there is no moment other than now,

I told her that that was the reason,
that I didn’t have a wife,
because there are many women I love,
and to love only one wouldn’t be right,

how can I tell one of my lovers,
that she’s better than all the rest,
how can I tell any of the others,
that they’re not as good as the one that I’m with,

I can’t,

because love is not confined into the body of one,
love is free to love and do what love does,
and with that we finished our tapas,
and finished our rendezvous with cappuccinos and hugs,

back into the world,
back into the embrace of another lover,
back into the future,
to make more memories with more women at more dinners…

∆ LaLux ∆
Aaron LaLux Sep 2018
Was told we’re not supposed to call it The 3rd World anymore,
that the politically correct term is “Developing World”,
It’s not 1st and 2nd World,
it’s Developed and Developing world,

I thought,
what difference does it make,
the same disparities still exist,
regardless of if the names change the problems remain,

we’re quick to look down on a 3rd world mob boss,
because he executes a few troops to make a statement to say,
but who are we to judge if you ask me all humans are fckt up,
and at the end of the day nothing really matters anyways,

we’re all Lethargic Aggressively Passive Agitators,
we’d all rather get lost in an Instagram Timeline,
than get found in our Real Life Timeline,
where the Beast of Burden are disgusted as Beauties that are benign,

anyways whatever where am I I’m flying through the sky on an Air New Zealand flight,
watching a documentary about Spielberg,
his phenomenal rise in the film industry,
and how some critics pointed to his rise as the demise real cinematographic art,

but critics are critics and that’s just it,
they get paid to criticize,
when in fact most of us artists types would argue,
that everything is art every scene on screen and in real life,

only difference is with real life it feels like there’s no break time,
that everyone’s forgot their lines & there’s no script,
the camera is always rolling the director never yells cut,
and even when you get frustrated you can’t walk of the set and call it quits,

what the heck is this,
what kind of sick joke is someone playing,
I mean don’t get me wrong I’ve got a great life,
I’m not complaining at all I’m just saying,

this mind of ours has some dark places,
everyone scared of sacred water because of Jaws,
it sparked a fear that lead to the slaughter,
of the majestic prehistoric fish known as the shark,

and that’s just the tip of the iceberg with Spielberg,
think how many other ways he altered all our perceptions,
think about his films about aliens,
think about her portrayals of various villains,

either that or don’t think about it at all,
just turn on a screen and watch a show,
and try to seize the moments,
because most of us don’t realize the movie’s over until the credits begin to roll,

oh,
here we go,
another poem about nothing that we find important,
like life and disparities and re-programming of soul,

but what does it matter anyways,
if life is but a dream and we are lost at sea on a boat,
I mean we’re all gonna die at least in the physical sense,
and I don’t know if that’s true but that’s what I’ve been told,

then again I’ve been told a lot of things,
got me thinking that someone isn’t necessarily wise just because they’re old,
so I take all food for my soul with a grain of salt,
because something isn’t true just because it was told,

Was told we’re not supposed to call it The 3rd World anymore,
that the politically correct term is “Developing World”,
It’s not 1st and 2nd World,
it’s Developed and Developing world…

∆ LaLux ∆
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