Though reading horror stories (macabre),
     an only every now and again
     genre crazy wave
washing over me like
     a killer tsunami,
     (subsequently fueling
     desperation) to save
thine scrawny ****,

     (a derriere laughing stock,
     and hence cheeky of me to rave),
those rare occasions satiated, when
     hung over insomnia heavily bulging,
     rheumy myopic blood shot eyes
     nonetheless lock into
     critical opening sentence determining,
     whether adroit kingly author

     nimbly setting the stage and pave
ving what thenceforth, pro
     misses tubby a cell out ace
in the hole captive audience
     (me, this apt pupil), doth brace
himself (by all counts once
     a bad little kid) deserving, well...now...
just a bag of bones,

     who fiendishly cackles
     when leaning in (Sheryl Sandberg like),
whereat after opening sentence, an instantaneous
     possessive gnarly hand
     forcibly grabs my attention
     presaging and frightening
     yours truly (juiced in case
ye did not know),

     where within the bazaar
     of bad dreams epic,
     which seems like forever,
     when I finally erase
and exorcise the bogeyman who,
     masterfully, immediately,
     dramatically got woven
     lady chattery teeth and all

     withering wicked warp and woof
     establishing (proof positive),
     an excellently crafted
    Chiral Mad heavily shades
     of night are falling
     gussying haunting place,
where the color of evil permeates
     every cerebral space
with darkness, said

     sub rosa prime evil punctuates
     the mind this dream catcher,
     whence after four past midnight
the reaper's image appears
sending adrenaline rush,
     viz flight or fight blind

did, when firestarter alarm didst grind
passage of time manifesting dark forces
     blaze zing atavistic fear itself lined
     up battleground formation
     from the borderlands of my mind
this even before turning
     the first page where the eyes
     of drag'n my afterlife shined!

I fell for a madman, a lunatic, a clown
Knowing this all I can do is frown
For so many years I took his abuse
Him hunting a man who hides as Bruce

This cakey clown makeup will cover the bruise
A temporary reminder not to give him bad news
He threw me out the window, it’s not the first time
It’s all my fault, I got in the way of his crime

One thing I needed to remember, he’s the star of the show
It’s him and Batman, him and his foe
I was just a puppet, a means to an end
Maybe that why I met Ivy, I just needed a friend

I was charged to mend and fix his head
But it was him who got inside mine instead
My ambition clouded my judgment, all could see
He saw this flaw and decided to overtake me

I became his Harlequin, or at least I guess I was meant too
The issue is I thought for myself and didn’t share his worldview
He lured me in with sadness and my pity
He told me we would in the future rule Gotham city

I believed him, I changed into a red and black lackey
He said he just wanted to bring smiles and make himself happy
Mad love, it’s what the sirens called it
I guess they were right; how did I not take a hint?

But he never loved me, that much to me is now obvious
He hit, punched and dragged me, how was I so oblivious?
I was just a pawn in his mad Puppet play
I guess the joke was on me, isn’t that right Mr. J?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

the Knight Before The Mourning,

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

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

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

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

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

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

blink,

blink,

blink,

blink,

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

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

blink,

blink,

blink,

blink,

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

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

∆ LaLux ∆

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

The witches heart is made of straw,
witches' heart is no heart at all.

The witch ideal a nature's fend,
her heart desires the human end.

The vines contort limb,
Lycurgus' gape.
as a punishment for,
man's unholy ****.
'
'
'
'

Criminal erasers; cowl wearing clue chasers.
Costumed,
Crusading,
Constantly crime-fighting two-facers.

Egads
No real mistakes by the guru doing Kung-Fu:
Calm as Sulu
Simply sampling fingerprints of clues just to enthuse
Any evil on the loose: No excuse

Impartial to dangerous sharks, he’s got repellent spray
Master of all martial arts, in each apparent way
Perfecting corrections to ******* a simple blade
Inspecting collections of riddles, stenciled and sprayed

He lurks in the dark,
Look for the signal in the sky
The rodent that flies,
And gives bad vibes to bad guys

He acts prudishly;
Lives reclusively.
Actuality:
Delivers swift justice with impunity.

Fighting like every breath: the last
His knowledge is vast,
His fortune’s never few from the cash he’s amassed
And his strength is never surpassed

Steadfast; he’s on the enigmatic hunt.
Overly-dramatic with an acrobatic stunt