Let the wind and rain on this dreary day refresh your mind, and seep into your soul. That way we can drink in the storm together. Instead of our coffee, boiling hot, we'll brew our Friday morning cold.

From a windows. Shockingly enough.

Though today is Tuesday
Many think it Monday,
But that was yesterday...
'Twas a Bank Holiday!
Which in a strange weird way
Many thought was Sunday,
But just on Saturday
All of us knew the day!
But who cares anyway?
Tomorrow is Wednesday,
Just to get through Thursday
Then hooray!! 'Tis Friday!

Pearson Bolt Apr 15

my day  
at 3:00am
with hip-hop
rain splattering
my window pane.
the witching hour:
my own, private
Galgotha. i forsook
god, now i'm damned
to hum the dirge
of doom, hushed
and out of tune.

this week in the news,
Sean Spicer swore
Hitler didn't gas
the Jews. apparently,
the irony of Passover
was lost on the fool.
if Pepsi truly held the key
to ending police
brutality, i'd be the first
to shake the Invisible Hand,
but that spectral fist
is too busy choking
the life out of refugees
to make time for a paltry
teacher like me.

as gas prices
and approval ratings
the motherfucker
of all bombs
fell in Afghanistan
while tomahawk missiles
pummeled Syria
and predator drones
zoomed over
Yemen and Pakistan.

where do we stand, hands
stained red with the blood
of those we've martyred?
will we idly abide
an Empire crucifying
its imaginary enemy
on this insane crusade
of endless war?
our silent compliance
rings louder than the hammer
nailing our victims' limbs
to the cross of our indifference.

if there's one thing
i know for sure,
it's that art
makes this whole goddamn
joke a bit more bearable.
but how could we portend
to outlast this tragedy
when even DAMN.
and the Last Jedi
are only temporary reprieves
from suffering perpetually?

what's so good
about this Friday

National Poetry Month, Day 14.

a bird on a wire
anxiously tweets
outside my
Good Friday

The Carl Vinson
battle group
plies the China Seas
rolling through waves
like a deadly

MOABS plaster
commanders are
certain the right
bomb, for the right job
produced a righteous
body count

Tomahawks strafe
another Syrian
neighborhood, already
desperately choking on
the stench of corpses

“Crucify Him!”
They shout
“We want blood!”

“Give em a
good scourging”

Before we place
a crown of thorns
on his head

Let the blood drip
pierce him with
a pike, let it all
spill out

The pundits
sanctify the
of death with
strategic acuity

Just another day
in a closer walk
with Thee, for the
Pilgrims of Sorrow

Music: Soul Stirrers,
Pilgrim of Sorrow

The Road of Sorrows
Nina Marchenko

Good Friday 2017
Lavallette NJ

Lawrence Hall Apr 14

A Night of Fallen Nothingness

The Altar stripped, the candles dark, the Cross
Concealed behind a purple shroud, the sun
Mere slantings through an afternoon of grief
While all the world is emptied of all hope.
The dead remain, the failing light withdraws
As do the broken faithful, silently,
Into a night of fallen nothingness.

If Friday became one of us,
She would not make a fuss,
Thank God, it's Friday we say,
Yes, it's a fabulous Friday,
No need to get a shock!
By  5pm, it's weekend o'clock,
Yes, Friday is folk like us,
Let's hear it for Friday fabulous!

Feedback welcome.

A day of solemnity,
A day of piety,
For a God of Truth,
Is the Shroud His proof?
Jesus gave up the ghost and passed,
Let's worship this long gone past,
Peaceful and sorrowful for Christians,
Sacrifice for all us humans,
A day of inspiration.
Our one day of sad contemplation,
On  Good Friday,
Let us pray.......

Feedback welcome.
Aaron LA Lux Mar 11



I don’t want to go out,
not trying to be negative,
nor am I trying to hang out,
with people who are negative,

which is why I don’t want to go out,


no way,
you’re not getting me out today,
don’t care what you do,
or what you say,

I’m perfectly fine here,
with my nostalgia and insecurities,
and I’m paranoid enough already,
so please I don’t need any one or thing else to worry me,

I’m fine in my own mind,
in my own home in my own room,
where I spin these stories,
which makes this room more of a cocoon,

but if this room is a cocoon,
then does that make me a butterfly,
or better yet a catepillar,
my mind’s drifting again whatever never mind,

just forget it,
it’s easier to just not care,
no need to pretend you want to attend to my wounded heart,
believe me you don’t want to mess with the mess that’s in here,

I’m a troubled soul,
we both are,
so what good would two troubled souls be together,
that’d just be double trouble for sure,

I might seem popular if you read my Facebook posts,
and sure from the outside looking in,
I might look like I’m living life the most,

a lot of people even call me a Player,
but I’m not a Player I don’t even play,
at least not anymore,

and I’m writing this like it matters,
like this poem will be the one that the world shares with itself,
like I haven’t written enough already,
like three #1’s in a row isn’t enough,

it’s never enough,
nothing ever is,
that’s why I’m not going out,
before I even get into anything I’m already over it,

not sober with,
my anxieties getting the best of me,
yeah I guess it’s a natural high,
if you consider a natural high EMF’s and caffeine,

and I don’t even think you know what I mean,
and if you do you probably don’t care,
and if you care I probably don’t notice,
and that’s exactly why I’m staying right here,

I’ll save us both the trouble,
so we don’t have to go out and you don’t have to feel awkwards,
because if we go out I won’t be able to let loose,
because I’ll just be thinking about how our society is so perverse,

how we party away,
having drinks that cost more than most people make,
see it seems the only way to have a good time is to be in denial,
and I am a lot of things but one thing I’m not is fake,

I can’t pretend,
don’t even want to,
I’m not your Arm Candy or your Sugar Daddy,
we are already even so I don’t owe you,

nope not a thing,
and no I’m not going out,
so please stop asking,

as if,
any one is even asking though,
it’s Friday night and the phone doesn’t even ring,
oh well I guess I’m better off alone,

so no I don’t want to go out,
not trying to be negative,
nor am I trying to hang out,
with people who are negative,

which is why I don’t want to go out,



∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Fay Castro Jan 27

Oh boy, Friday night.
What to do on a Friday night.
Friday night.
What to do indeed.

What on earth-
could a woman-
who lives alone-

I could go out-
drink myself silly-
stumble home in a torn dress and one high heel-
and wake up with no recollection whatsoever of what happened the night before.

I could go to the swimming pool
midnight swim, seems nice.
Meet someone by the poolside?
and never see the light of day again?

I could walk through the park
knife in hand
only to find my body buried in a plot of land
many miles away

Jees, being a woman is hard.
If only I had a penis, eh?

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