A lonesome threshold,
yesterday was light as confetti / from a wedding that
bled in thirty litres of martyred roses / How long are
three hundred steps from a church, to stucco walls
the colour of sorrow?

Soil, the tint of blood,
ichor of mountain Gods, deveined for lost embrace
of roots / Wind whistling away regrets in the dust of
liberated souls / Would it sing for her, embalmed
in the bowels of earth’s sanguine hum?

April heat, weighted with a dirge
of tears salted in ocean / rusting the trumpet
and violin strings / Who will tune the piano for mass,
now that those musical men sailed before her,
in paper boat memoirs?

The Goliath tree rooted in bones,
a giant on such sustenance / gatekeeper of souls
tethered to fleshy sinews in beds of solitude /
Will she be interred in fruit, as he suppers
on her animated putrefaction?

Suffering, twice a child,
once a lady, she didn’t stay long to be swaddled
in linens of pity, cottons of commiserations /
Where will I store the enameled chamber *** for
when I grow up to be her likeness?

Nightshades, funneling viscous memories,
trumpeting in a pastel wilderness, alkaloid racket
waiting to sound in the poisons of prayerful echoes /
When will they bloom, toxic with grief of a swelling past,
so I may sleep as soundly as her?

cut open my stomach,
and gut me

dissect the tumour,
that you left in me

do i still look like the girl you used to know?

with my intestines on display,
and a smile on my face

remember what you did to me

watch me deteriorate,
my bones on display

no tears on my face, they’ve all gone astray
unable to escape the glass as I took my last breath

now I’m held up by nails, my eyes sunken in

soulless, lifeless and,

this is where you will be as well

finger tips decaying like a cigarette between lips
crumbling lower, and lower
surrounded by bones, locked in paper walls

touched by a kiss, heart set ablaze
love leads us to death
so i love death

be honest, tell me I meant nothing to you,
                                                       remind me of everything I did wrong.
make me cry, but don’t touch me with words of comfort,
                                                                                               be brutal to my skin.
tear it up with harsh comments, write the names on my limbs and put your hands around my neck, a bear trap on my leg and let me bleed, stab me with your fists, bruise me with the truth once again.

Don’t let me crawl back.

keep me at a distance and kick me towards someone else to bother, as you shove me away and stay alone in the dark. forever.

With quiescence parroting
and an achromic sheet ensconcing your frame
the padre chants
only to ausculate your loved ones sniffle.
I watched you being buried.
deeper
and
deeper.

a friend, a brother, a lover and a son.

now,
Resting in an array of stars
waiting for the sun to rise in the
high northern sky.
-Khushi :’)

I'm green with those I leave behind,
This world I have, where all seems mine.

I vacillate as their world keeps thriving,
Leaving the living live with the alive.

But I'm gone, I'm dead,
The colorful globe will spin;
The living will die;
Not now... by and by,
With O whys and O mys.
It's a curse I've bequeathed
To the loves of my life,
When they leave their loved ones behind.

Wrap those arms around yourself,
It's a boost for mental health.
Embrace all feelings when alone,
Then hug until you reach your bones.
Squeeze until it's hard to breathe,
Slowly release and know relief.

Now wrap your brain around yourself;
Unbind the belt cinching sense,
The straight jacket 'round your head;
Buckled and strapped,
It fits like skin;
Too much penance for all our sins.
Unravel the sticking, needling voice,
Whispering...

I have no choice.

It's not because you're lacking wealth,
Family, friends or stable health,
But one's perception of oneself.

Don't wrap your neck inside a noose,
Or shoot yourself with an overdose;
Don't splay yourself on a subway track...

I wonder would I feel that.

Leave Daddy's gun locked in its holster;
Hold high your chin while treading water;
Stand still on bridge, cliff or ledge,
You won't hit bottom til you're dead.

Met a man on the beach today,
saw him taking photos in the rising Sun's light,
asked him “Flora or Fauna”,
he replied with “Fauna”,

I approached,
he pointed out a bullfrog,
hidden amongst the reeds,
keeping cool in the Mekong's mud,

then he pointed out several lizards clinging to blades of grass,

the fact is that,
I never would have noticed these animals if he hadn’t pointed them out,

I guess sometimes we don’t see things right in front of us,
until we are shown them by others that are the wiser,
or at least that are more observant,
I observed him,

as he observed the animals our interaction continuing,

we walked,
down the the banks of the Mekong,
I showed him a carved artifact,
that I’d found washed up upon the beach,

there had been a series of storms lately,
which had led to floods,
which had led to the unearthing,
of artifacts that had been resting in their earthen beds for hundreds of years,

sometimes it takes a bit of turmoil to unearth that which is covered,
see just because something is covered doesn't mean it's not there,

anyways no matter where we go there we are,

and there we were in that morning rise of sun,
we walked closer to the rushing waters,
where the girl I was with had been observing,
me observing the man who was observing the Fauna,

the girl I was with asked the man casually,
“So man where are you from?”,
it's a common question amongst travelers,
but sometimes a very common thing can lead to something very rare,

He said he was from America and that he’d had enough of it,
he said the doctors had suggested open heart surgery and he was having none of it,
he said he was a Flower Child of the '60's a Vietnam Vet,
and had always had a “stick it to the man kinda attitude.”,

apparently he had heart disease,
caused by a clogging of his arteries,
not enough blood or not enough love or not enough what ever,
was reaching his still beating heart,

the doctors,
with there religious faith in Western Medicine,
warned him if he didn't go in for surgery,
that his early death would come for certain,

they gave him six months to live,
“gave” him like they are God,
like they can “give” life,
while predicting an early death like Death follows any mortals schedule,

no doctor can “give” life but they sure can take it away,

with their agnostic diagnostics and toxic antibiotics,
did you know that Mustard Gas is used in Chemotherapy?

Seriously.

So anyways he,
was diagnosed with heart disease,
given a six month life expectancy,
and told that his current state of being was in itself a medical emergency.

When he heard the news,
he made a conscious decision,
he flew to Laos to escape the 3 trillion dollar U.S. Medical Industry,
he decided he would rather die free than live in a hospitalized prison,

that was 4 years ago from the day we met and he's still alive and kicking,

now he lives amongst the Lao people,
building pipes and helping water flow,
kinda ironic honestly that as a result of his pipes being clogged,
he now helps pipes flow but I guess that's how it goes,

gravity fed springs and moments that are enlightening are both wonderful things.

I thought about help and about charity and about giving to others who may be in need,

and then I began to think,
as this man told his tale,
it’s better to die a free man,
than live in a hospital that’s turned into a jail,

no bail,
only one way out,
nobody gets out of here alive,
our body’s are maximum security penitentiaries,

and I understood exactly this mans Last Stand For Freedom,

he refused to be claimed be the hospital system,
he refused to be confined to a bed and fed through a tube,
he’d rather die happy and free taking photos on the Mekong,
have a heart attack and die taking a photo of a bullfrog,

his cardiac arrested onto his back he'd fall until he’s resting eyes up at the Heavens,

fading out like a saffron sunset upon the muddy waters flow,

no kids no wife no pets just him and his past he wants to die happy and alone,

alone as as we all are when we go,
and we all go one way or another whether Flora or Fauna,
I shook his hand thanked him for his insight then the girl and I left,
to continue on our Life's adventure…

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

from The Holy Trilogy vol.1; available worldwide; 11/11/16 ∆