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awknight Mar 2018
my eyes
drag across
the world in
front of me.

from darkness
to light
I am tired
but awake.

a new life.
reborn from the
grasps of death.
slightly conscious.

around me
I see faces
— unfamiliar.
Pepper Dove Feb 2018
Difficulties arise
competing with
all of these
fallacies
surrounding me

We're incomplete
receiving till we overheat
technology's consuming me

Because what you see
it isn't me
it isn't me
system's overloading

We've got to dilate our minds
- disconnect to reconnect -
evaluate your time.
Kellin Feb 2018
Love is
deliberate
Love is a
conscious decision
What does love mean to you?
Mystic Ink Plus Feb 2018
Wish of a long ago,
With all conscious realm
Beyond the body
In profound silence
Sat by the highway
Connected with a glorious sun
With a mirage of fleeting joy
Self Programming journey
Sensing with all senses
Sharing life, ideas and dreams
A very breath of life
Footprint in a shore
Dance to the sound
People around, all defining happiness
Time of lasting memories
Everywhere and everything

Sincerely yours,
Peace of mind.
Note: I was not a poet, then it happened.
Shared from my Anthology, Canvas: Echoes and Reflections, 2018.
this cautious man (bobby jean) born in the u.s.a.

grownin’ up in the badlands of atlantic city

bonded with blood brothers

felt born to run along backstreets

in brilliant disguise that did cover me

frequently blinded by the light

of the full moon



casting silhouettes against darkness on the edge of town

which lunar shafts pierced candy’s room

while immersed in book of dreams

describing better days on a Cadillac ranch


where devils & dust - visible dancing in the dark

celebrating like calendar showered 4th of july

or other glory days in darlington county

even though I ain’t got you.



livin’ in the future

mine hungry heart hankered and felt like I’m on fire

for you, this fire in me craved human touch

desire - roaring into the ole factory fire

because I wanna marry you

because the night populated



with girls in their summer clothes

each dazzling like 57 channels (and nothin’ on)

in imagination of my american skin

descended from when adam raised a cain

before last to die forecasting kingdom of days

now dwelling in celestial mansion on the hill.



now rightfully claim status of I’m a rocker/

local hero and I’m goin’ down

meeting across the river

if I should fall behind



on the downbound train as living proof

within light of day magic jungleland

policed by highway patrolman i.e. johnny 99

alias johnny bye bye – held up without a gun

defending this lucky town



established on Matamoras banks

from an incident on 57th street

thus celebrated as local hero every independence day

when with ****** incorporated



firing point blank out in the street

that staccato new york city serenade

from no surrender outlaw pete

originally from nebraska.



it’s hard to be a saint in the city open all night

within my hometown

once my father’s house, now my city of ruins

where tis moot to ask does this bus stop at 82nd street?



one step up

into the pink Cadillac

hops the ramrod queen of the supermarket

teasing audio dials sans radio nowhere

a red headed woman



racing in the street toward secret garden

to save my love – with thee

angel rosalita (come out tonight)

offering reason to believe

roll of the dice real world



and to prove it all night

from spare parts – shards of roulette wheel

housing souls of the departed

please save my love and stolen car

for sherry darling – that spirit in the night



she’s the one among souls of the departed

no longer stopped by state trooper

precinct based along streets of philadelphia

some crackling like streets of fire

straight time mandate for those armed to the teeth

along tenth avenue freeze-out.



requiem per terry’s song – what love can do

accompanied by e street shuffle

performed in somber tones

rumbling down thunder road

for souls of used cars



two hearts crushed

along this hard land

for: the ghost of tom joad

the last carnival homage


to wild billy’s circus story

the price you pay when you’re alone

working on a dream

now wreck on the highway.



we take care of our own from youngstown

when heading of to the promised land

the rising distant mystical eden

where you can look (but you’d better not touch)

espying the river of salvation



joining eternally the ties that bind

a tunnel of love

or like the wrestler

pinning opponent tougher than the rest

like laborers working on the highway

chiseled like this hard land!
Aaron LaLux Jan 2018
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 ∆
Another True Story
Dr Cat Fiesh Jan 2018
The screen is blank
Waiting for an input.
I sit there and ponder; thing after thing.
I give in and move, pressing key after key.

Fingers moving ever so carefully,
Pressing keys as if the movements are watched by crowds.
Hours and hours later, it is finally done.
The screen is blank
Just something random I thought I'd write.
# of days in a row = 1
Aaron LaLux Dec 2017
T-E-C-H-N-O-C-O-L-O-R-D-R-E-A-M-S-C-A-P-E

These days,
it’s all a Pre-Made Catch Phrase,
spending time like it’s money,
but don’t worry honey it’s all Pre-Paid,
can't ignore it pay it forward,
no room to breath fumigating I need space,
in the fast lane speeding,
all gimmicks no limits on the freeway,

thought you were forward thinking,
but you’ve got it all backwards,
we pay taxes to pay more taxes,
& that hurts like bad actors,

& I wrote this both as a protest,
as well as a a admission of submission,
because I can't help but to notice,
most of those that need help don't get it,

as I spy street cleaners from my highrise,
go through these means streets to pick up,
but street sweepers aren't enough,
not even heat seekers'll fix this mess up,
as things get meaner on the cold streets,
I'm still thinking things might nicen up,

& no street sweeper is mean enough,
to sweep this riff raft up,
no sir leave that to the mean Reaper,
what dreams are made of this's that stuff,

putting it all out there but,
no one cares because,
I’m not famous enough,
everyone out of luck acting tough,
& I used to give a hand & a ****,
but now I don't because I've had enough,

see I can write the most profound lines, humankind has ever paid mind to,
at least in modern day times,
yeah I can write those lines times two,

but really what’s the use,
of speaking the truth,
to these Consumerist Troops,
if they're all deaf dumb & mute,

tone deaf,
from the volume all the way up,
as they sit on their butts,
eyes glued to the tube too stuck,

& just to clear things up,

it’s Consumerism,
that's got us totally *******,
not Communism,
I think you’re honestly confused,

& if you’re confused,
let me spell it out for you,

T-E-C-H-N-O-C-O-L-O-R-D-R-E-A-M-S-C-A-P-E,

that’s TechnoColorDreamScape,
AKA Reality TV,
that's living waking life,
in a dream state apogee,

& you’re the star,
& the jokes on you,
hardy har har,
& boo hoo hoo,

where’s all the honey gone Honey-Boo-Boo?

The bees left their colonies,
no pollen trees just insecticides,
no apologies for disrespecting,
these policies that allow us all to die,

but I’m not going out anonymous,
not at all I’m leaving behind this legacy,
so let it be known through prose and poem, that we left here with some dignity,

words used to mean something,
feelings used to matter,
emotions used to exist and hold weight,
mornings were only memories of laughter,
what’s become of the Good ‘Ol Days,
& what will be coming after,

these days,
everyone is caught in a catch phrase,
like a dolphin in a fishnet,
or a beach town in a sea wave,
or a Sinner in the Rapture,
or a deer on the freeway,
or a soldier in uniform,
during Operation Overlord on D-Day.

These days,
it’s all a Pre-Made Catch Phrase,
spending time like it’s money,
but don’t worry honey it’s all Pre-Paid,
can't ignore it pay it forward,
no room to breath fumigating I need space,
in the fast lane speeding,
all gimmicks no limits on the freeway.

∆ LaLux ∆

from The Sydney Sessions, the 8th book by multi-bestselling international author Aaron Lux, available FREE worldwide here:
www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps
The book is FREE to download here: www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps
Aaron LaLux Dec 2017
Melting under this Plastic World,
Mickey Mouse is a rat that ate the poison,
I feel this wave coming over me,
riding the tide like I'm Poseidon,

totally sick of this circus like Icarus,
flying dangerously close to The Sun,
I'm high in a high rise on syd in Sydney,
like Midas my God what have we done,

it's as if,
everything we touches turns to gold,
invested in,
IOTA last week this week it's up 10 fold,

BitCoin hit 15k,
here we go we're on our way,
bought in out of fear of getting left out,
like a cat in the rain,

feeling like a cannibal animal,
every dog has it's day,
working to the bone like a bog,
& we all want our $ at the end of the day,

when the work’s done,
everyone's gonna wanna get paid,
feeling mixed up in the middle,
half way between a master & a slave,

what a mess we’ve made,
& I’m not blaming any particular one,
I’m just saying collectively,
this feels like the eulogy of,

a civilization that's time has come,
& is almost done,
& yeah we might lose it all,
but at least we had some fun,

& oh what fun we’ve had,
but who'll be left to clean up this mess,
because all the cool kids have gone,
& you're the only one left,

like the morning after the party,
sunrises are never the same as sunsets,
had some fun times last night,
but this morning you're such a wreck,

sometimes only at crunch time do you find,
our failures disguised as accomplishments,

now who’s left behind to pay enough mind,
to clean up our post bliss mess,
not snotty nosed spoiled rotten rich kids,
who got gassed up on daddy’s cash,
they're crashed out at their pad now,
but we both knew they wouldn't last,

passed out on dad's couch,
can always tell the future from the past,

everyone’s,
acting like an ***,
jockeying in position,
for some corporate kick backs,

but if or when you get them,
they come along with a guilty conscience,
then tell me what good is that,
seems all these facts are just nonsense,

I mean really what good is this,
what good are all these words,
I guess these words are only worth,
whatever a words worth is really worth,

which at this point,
feels worth about as much as dirt,
but at least it's that good dirt,
that Mount Agung before it bursts,
that fertile volcanic soil,
that Mother Love from Mother Earth,

sure,

you might think you’ve got it figured out,
or at least you thought you did,
& now you see what’s coming now,
& the mess we’ve made of all this ****t,

the drama we did with no apologies,
no apologies nor compliments,
no honor for the Honor Rollers,
nor for our awkward accomplishments,

and all I want to know,
is where the Hell honest went,
'cause all these dollars & all this power,
at the end of the day amounts to zip,

zero,
no heroes,
& as it turns out,
all of our idols are weirdos,

how's we go,
from Einsteins to Weinsteins,
from talking out our feelings,
to just replying with “I'm fine.”,

from Greek Gods to Mickey Mouse,
from Orwell's Animal Farm to Animal House,
from Mozart's 'Requiem Lacrimosa',
to Baha Men's 'Who Let The Dogs Out',

how'd we get from then,
to where we are now,

& you only want to talk about the weather,
or anything else that doesn't matter,
instead of what's really on your mind,
& how it's all almost over,

talking about what's for lunch,
while the world floods & burns,
not trying to be too negative,
just trying to help you learn,

because I know you think I'm cool,
but really I feel hot as Hell,
is it just me or is it hot in here,
is it just me or does nothing feel real,

like a Barbie girl in a Barbie world,
all dolled up & wrapped in plastic,
like I'm at at Disneyland on acid,
only about an hour & a half in,
& already I'm having a bad trip,
stuck on a boat on a fake mountain,
it's a joke that they call it magic,
trying to slow as everything goes faster,

but I'm not at Disneyland,
I'm just in a high-rise on syd in Sydney,
looking at the man in the mirror like MJ,
thinking I don't know that man who is he?

MMelting under this Plastic World,
Mickey Mouse is a rat that ate the poison,
I feel this wave coming over me,
riding the tide like I'm Poseidon,
totally sick of this circus like Icarus,
flying dangerously close to The Sun,
I'm high in a high rise on syd in Sydney,
like Midas my God what have we done.

∆ LaLux ∆

from The Sydney Sessions
available for FREE worldwide 12/12/17
Fox Friend Nov 2017
I've felt many different types of pain, but the most intense has been the pain of healing, and unfortunately that specific type of pain can only be felt when you are very much awake to absorb the whole of it.
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