Wealth drips from the fingertips of the rich
They languish in the materialism of the good life
Living out heaven on earth

The rumble of an empty stomach echoes through an alley
***** and homeless, people crawl to their tents
living to starve another day

Flashing lights brighten their already made faces
As they step carefully out of the limousine
Greeting the crowd with a wave, they enter through double doors
Ready to make a dramatic entrance

They sneak a sandwich through their ratty sleeve
As they wander through the convenience store
Desiring the things they cannot purchase
Alarms ring in their arrest

Bubbling champagne fills them with giddiness
Socializing with the friends that stick around for the money
The wealth that you have
And that they want

Waiting for your release
From this empty, pitiful cell
They stare at the wall,
Marked with the days until release into a life worse than before

As they head home, you realize
Is this a life worth living?
With fake friendships
And worthless objects surrounding you

As they uncuff you, you realize
Is this a life worth living?
With poverty at every open door
And no future to look forward to?

They both rush to the brooklyn bridge
Poised for the rush of bone-chilling water to fill their lungs
But as they look out at the city
The bright lights spell out:
The system is broken

i would gladly trade you a today
for a tomorrow - and a tomorrow, for yesterday -
i would give you a share of my stock
for a slice of wedding cake - a gold bar
for a plane ticket - and
i would
grab you a cloud, from the ocean's breeze
i would
give you the air, right off of the palm trees -
- and i would
let the rain, rinse against your cheeks, and
and i would let days, somehow turn into weeks -
i let days, turn into weeks
just moments we'll remember in years
fear of what might happen, fear of what won't
fear of what will happen, fear of what won't
when they call your name,
what will you be known for?
when they call my name,
what will i be known for?

The Messiah in Miss Hart’s class,
Has torn his hands from the pins that stuck into him with
Doubt at success,
Doubt in the light.
Now, he wonders the desert, to live out his life.
You’re a small percent
But you’re not different

So many ideas, such a creative spark.
But you don’t write a word.
though your brain screams a speech.
You could be in a far off land.
Just lift the pen in your hand.
But your body is a tide pulled by the moon,Hidden
in the sky that’s
Grey enough to ignore.
Grey enough to anger,
Grey enough to cloud a view.
Why am I sat here?,
I have a million things to do?

Chop mushrooms in the kitchen,
Mix in the soup
Eat that mushroom in the dark,
To make your eyes droop.
Cut weeds in the garden,
To clear the flower bed,
Spread weeds at the party,
To stop feeling dead.

You want to escape, so you clasp a headphone to your ear,
But your fantasy should be here,
As you have no work for a year,
You have no purpose for a year.

We start with nothing,
And we end up with the same.
It’s the events in the middle,
That defines the nature of our game.
For some it’s intense, fiery and short.
For others it’s a careful and considerate walk.
We strive for difference,
Yet we achieve deadly equality.
We try to make our mark,
Just to be remembered.
But in the end we fade,
Like we knew we would from the start.
With nothing left behind,
Not a scrap to be measured.
Is it worth all the effort,
Just to then disappear.
All the pain we experience,
Year upon year.
Should I stop now,o
And just give up here?
Or should I push on,
Despite my desperation and fear?

Backstage Drake show,
don’t know how I got here,
heart beats *******,
feel every feeling except fear,

at Drake’s last show,
of The Boy Meets World Tour,
backstage without a backstage pass,
how the heck did I get here?

Life so blessed,
there’s no need for a backstage pass,
always All Access,
no matter where on this atlas,

facts facts facts,

everybody misbehaving,
no one knows how to act,
on our worst behavior,
wish we could bring **** Back,

actually,
can barely believe we exist,
and all of the quotes I wrote,
are starting to sound like a To Do List,

my God what type of life is this,

in first place,
which wasn’t supposed to happen in the first place,
how the Hell did I end up,
backstage at a show hosted by Drake,

how’d I get picked for first place VIP,
when I wasn’t even close to being a First Round Draft Pick,
how can I live a life so viciously victorious,
at the same time terribly tragic,

I don’t know,
just know it all happened like magic,
like that’s it,
like going from being an anonymous to an A-List actress,

beats bumping heart pumping,
sold my heart but kept my soul intact,
and if want a seat at the table,
all you have to do is ask,

go ahead,
let’s make this a conversation
but if you run your mouth too long,
I might start running out of patience,

and then you’ll lose your chance and your placement,
just saying,

just finished another world tour,
Boy Meets World 2017,
on this wild ride like a rodeo with OVO,
only one word to describe this and that’s “Amazing.”,

backstage Drake show,
don’t know how I got here,
heart beats *******,
feel everything except fear,

at Drake’s last show,
of The Boy Meets World Tour,
backstage without a backstage pass,
how the heck did I get here?…

∆ Aaron LaLux ∆

new book HERE: www.amazon.com/dp/1721134158
Or message me directly and I'll send it to you for FREE.
∆

Living Gods

My God we’re Gods,
see no matter what we do we’ll leave behind a legacy,
working forward with the tools we’ve got,
without getting worked up or caught up realizing that everything’s only energy,

which is why we take in stride the fact that we’re modest aristocrats,
I mean after all how much money does one man need,
I mean we’ve got millions which is plenty enough to live on,
plus we’ve got friends who literally have billions,

I mean I don’t even need that much,
I mean I’m more motivated to feed the needy than dominated by being greed,
plus billions is a lot of money I’d even wager to say it’s too much,
& I don’t want nor need that kind of responsibility,

I mean I don’t even need all the money I already have,
don’t really care about jewelry or cars or the name on name brand tags,
I just want to be with good friends in good weather eat healthy & live comfortably,
plus I’m not impressed with how much you take my interest is more about how much you give back,

because true wealth is about having good health in body mind & soul,
& giving back to the world in kind is usually a good sign of that,
plus I see God’s work more in the Philanthropist than in the Evangelist,
& we’re Gods which is why I give every dollar I make from my art back,

I don’t need the money I mean I make more on the interest in my saving than I spend on living,
plus I’m not having kids & I’m giving everything away to charity when I pass anyways,
so when I die please burn my body send my ashes to the sky & donate my money to worthy causes,
& don’t ask why just realize or at least accept that it’s all part of The Prophecy that I am and it’s great,

because honestly,

we’re Gods,
& I don’t mean that in any way that’s blasphemous,
I mean that in the past there was Isis there was Mercury & there was Horus of course,
& we’re the modern day incarnations of greatness shining so bright they can’t ignore us so they ask for us,

see the truth is that we are the new Buddhas & you could be the new Zeus ‘cause,
energy never dies it just changes form as it always has for all of infinity,
& I honestly used to wonder what my roll was,
but now I see I’ve been nominated to be the scribe that writes these verses faithfully,
so I type away on my laptop instead of throwing back mad shots,
because someone’s gotta scribe these vibes so that our legendary lives’ will live in Eternity eternally,

& now that I’ve got that out of the way let me get back to what I was saying,
about how we’re Man Gods not at all unlike the Pharaohs that used to exist in Rome & Egypt,
which makes sense & is appropriate given that one of the kids at the event I was at tonight,
wore threads that were from the King of Morocco only difference is there’s wheels on our chariots,

and our horses are under our hoods,
but we still have Tridents as our emblems,
that’s a Maserati reference not that it makes a difference,
because when we die our bodies all return to the same essences,

saw another guy at that event,
which was at a house on The Hampton’s biggest estate property,
he wore the Caduceus around his neck,
which is the symbol of the God Mercury,

it was then that it occurred to me,
or rather was reaffirmed to me,
that we are all Gods which is not at all odd,
given the position that we sit in currently,

& I asked him,
if he knew what the symbol around his neck meant,
& he replied as he stared at me with stars in his eyes “Of course I do,
it’s the symbol on the staff of the God Mercury.”, to which I answered, “Yes”,

& then he said he made music,
after which I told him I write books to leave my mark,
& mark my words he’s going to be famous and so will he shout out to Billa,
because for those that are chosen to be shown the path is already known in the stars,

so if you want to know where I am just look up,
& you’ll know I’m always close as long as you can see the sky,
& when I’m gone you’ll still have these books Love,
because art is the only thing man creates that stands the test of time,

plus  these body’s we have are not all that we are in this life,

we are Love & we are Light & although we might look like mortal kind folk,
that’s only our disguise so we can hide from immoral rivals see we’re actually Immortal Idols,
& we try to stay humble but it’s tough to stay modest to be honest,
when you’re Gods & Goddesses that feel so good you can’t hide the smiles,

smile,

my God we’re Gods,
see no matter what we do we’ll leave behind a legacy,
working forward with the tools we’ve got,
without getting worked up or caught up realizing that everything’s only energy…

∆ Aaron LaLux ∆

Hamptons July 2018

Just because you now use your spear
as a walking stick, doesn't change
your past's sanguinary veneer
men, women, and children, your range.

All for us to sing of your κλέος,
the shades come back to haunt,
your glory, your fame, your albatross.
dreams of slit throats and screams daunt.

You have given up bloodshed,
we no longer sing your praises,
now you can finally rest your head,
and the enemy thanks you for your hiatus.