held like a crumbling holy relic
the trace of her final kiss
on these addicted lips,
is why I rise to find shelter
move it safely from ash and smoke

stumbling through shadows, like uneven, forgotten lumber
patching the gut shot with leftover bandages,
Lost hymns of decayed heart flung sadness
hang down Cahuenga, old and overplayed

wilted spider silk across a concrete violin 


every parking meter your next crutch,
arguing with every streetlight,
give each cold flicker that same
blood stained sermon,
the self same pity, worn and overused


from edge of a coin I’ll scratch out her name
from a nightman’s club the darkness can fall
from the corner my eye she’ll melt away
from the skin of my teeth I’ll feel the dawn crack
and learn, again, to crawl

Make Hollywood Great Again.
It's the next new slogan, sans the men.
It'll be like Jolly Olde England,
The Elizabethan style, if you get what I mean!
Inverse women bejewelled in cod pieces
Preying on the men.
Not in an English accent, but more American:
Bollocks won't mean the same;
Cuckold won't make sense,
But all the phenomenal men we know
Will need to share the pants.

Yikes. Those Golden Globe Awards speeches were powerful, eh? There's a shift in power occurring, and I hope the women handle it better.

A maiden
of Cypress
she in
a coupe
devill found
her lot
on the
freeway with
me but
on the
week-end we
tour up
the coast
and while
Pygmalion scored
a hit
on tv.

A second television show
Aaron LA Lux Dec 2017

We’re riding,
feels more like flying,
because this car,
feels more like a spaceship,

used to ride in a hybrid with eyes red,
now I ride a Tesla clean as a whistle,
used to use the pen as a sword,
now I use my laptop as a missile,

sorry I’m not sorry if I missed you,
didn’t intentionally diss you,
just been focused zoning on my poems,
keeping it going with my mind on the mission,

listen,

this is the future,
most are out to lunch better catch up,
this isn’t a damn it sandwich this is blessing dressing,
not an invalid salad but an important portion so pay attention when addressing us,

fck,
trying not to cuss too much,
but what the fck,
sometimes too much isn’t even enough,

probably heard that before,
probably didn’t know that was my line,
see when over a million people have read your words,
your words get rewritten time after time,

rewritten but not bitten see there’s a difference,
and yeah I know that the difference is a line and that line’s fine,
and it’s crossed when the message is lost and the spirit leaves the body,
but it’s not when I hear the words repeated in songs and I know those words are mine,

because when I know other people also know albeit sublimely,

I guess that’s what happens when your work outgrows you,
when you hear words you wrote in songs and quotes,
and it gives you that potent mix of anxiety and adrenaline,
which leads you to speeding by throttling the clutch like a throat,

heading north on America’s most west coast road,
going 100 MPH with no MPG up the PCH,
no MPG because the ride is all electric,
like we are running in this lifelong race,

racin’ with Jaden we ride out to our Topanga hideout,
got a whole 10 acre mountain top up there,
where we go to get ghost when we need to get away from foolish folks,
from their flashing lights Hellish cellphones and all their blank faced phony stares,

riding,
feels more like flying,
because this car,
feels more like a spaceship…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Lorem Ipsum Nov 2017

Psychic spies from China
Try to steal your mind's elation
And little girls from Sweden
Dreams of silver screen quotation
And if you want these kind of dreams
It's Californication

It's the edge of the world
And all of western civilization
The sun may rise in the East
At least it settles in the final location
It's understood that Hollywood
Sells Californication

Pay your surgeon very well
To break the spell of aging
Celebrity skin is this your chin
Or is that war your waging

First born unicorn
Hard core soft porn
Dream of Californication
Dream of Californication

Marry me girl be my fairy to the world
Be my very own constellation
A teenage bride with a baby inside
Getting high on information
And buy me a star on the boulevard
It's Californication

Space may be the final frontier
But it's made in a Hollywood basement
Cobain can you hear the spheres
Singing songs off station to station
And Alderaan's not far away
It's Californication

Born and raised by those who praise
Control of population everybody's been there and
I don't mean on vacation

First born unicorn
Hard core soft porn
Dream of Californication
Dream of Californication

Destruction leads to a very rough road
But it also breeds creation
And earthquakes are to a girl's guitar
They're just another good vibration
And tidal waves couldn't save the world
From Californication

Pay your surgeon very well
To break the spell of aging
Sicker than the rest
There is no test
But this is what you're craving

First born unicorn
Hard core soft porn
Dream of Californication
Dream of Californication


By Anthony Kiedis / Michael Balzary / John Anthony Frusciante / Chad Smith
Californication lyrics © MoeBeToBlame

Francie Lynch Nov 2017

The glitter is blinding.
New stars start shining.
Then memories recalled
With
Allegation,
Interpretation,
Incrimination,
Disinformation,
Retaliation;
And,
Five million to start.
But
Not that alone.
You're getting your picture
On the cover of
The Rolling Stone?

What a mess!
Aaron LA Lux Nov 2017

Culture Vultures dining on carcasses,
a culture of artist that,
act as if everyone is targeted,
and we are whether bisexual or bipartisan,
or both no vote only the onset of mainstream socialist monarchism,
a subconscious stream of consciousness consumed by a constantly contradicting condition of consumerism,
an avalanche of retail therapy and the avant of avant-gardism,
doesn’t have to be a better product or improved edition,
just has to be better packaged and marketed,
sold our souls so we don’t own anything anymore not even our own cognizance,
just look what what the mass media market did,

our collective memories and ancient traditions all but forgotten,
designer jeans symbolize a degenerative disease like Parkinson’s,
want to end this madness but don’t know who started it,
so who can we blame but ourselves in all honestness,
as we absorb Virtual Reality and ignore Actual Reality creating an occultism of Oculus,
Rift we drift into thee abyss of dark indifferences…

Neglecting the blueprint everybody’s a studio gangsta these days just ask 50 Cent,
morally bankrupt lazy played daisies try to copy Jay-Z’s blueprint,
but no body has a DJ Clue or a Ty Dollar to spare still everyone’s got their two cents,
all opinions given with no wisdom taken from the Grand Architect,
what good is good advice if we don’t take the time to listen we just dismiss it quick,
showing off trophies donating charity checks,
acting like champions we bare and beat our chest,
wearing fool’s gold and blood diamonds but we’ve won nothing yet,
honestly feels like we haven’t even started yet,
still we feel exhausted from this rat race for dominance,
slaves of an alien race we pledge allegiance with our obedience and faux pas ambiance,

And it’s all almost over for our entire empire so every moment better cherish it,
white robes with Chipko flip flops we hold the reins to Her Majesty’s chariot,
whipping the 500 horses faster in the fast lane will get you buried quick,
so I try and pace it and not get too wasted still I feel very sick,
when captain screams “You move too slow sailor!”, that’a when it’s time to depart this ship,
but you can’t rush good art and I’m an articulating artist for all the artisans,
in a constant state of affairs is why I haven’t married yet,

which of course means no divorce from any or all of this,
so I continue to translate transmissions without prejudice,
love is star crossed colorblind and my wonder mind is in wonderland’s luminescence,
as I illustrate illustrious illuminations off every edifice in this hedonistic eden like Edison,
with an ample amount of ambiance this is this rebels renegade Renaissance,
I write light before I become just another martyr for the Martian’s master plans,
my words are honest sonnets on tablets of mono-cultured monograms,
mono-glyphs that shine like a beacon on the Tower of Babel atop a cavernous monolith…

This is all honest in all honestness.

Here at the docks with assorted Goddesses and narcissistic walruses,
way up down under not trying to be negative but the only thing I’m positive of is,

we are cultivating a culture of artist that,
act as if everyone is targeted,
and we are whether bisexual or bipartisan,
so stay up and keep your eyes open because the games have just started kid.

This is all honest kid.

And I’m open to discuss everything except religion and of course politics,
so if you’re having issues then tell me what the problem is and maybe we can solve it quick,
and please don’t blame the Dalai Lama or Obama’s broken promises,
see we all have soiled wings just like these vultures that pick at our carcasses,
as we dine on Soylent Green served hot from the meting pot of concubine colleges,
wrong right black white day night see everything has it’s opposites,
so even the kindest animals will turn into carnivorous cannibals when all that’s left,
is blown kisses well wishes dirty dishes corrupt princes and spiritual paralysis,
this is the age of the dawning of Aquarius and the end of our passing genesis…

But what do I know I’m just a Son of a Gun on the run writing this mystic futuristic hit-list,
dressed to the nines with a bottle of moonshine and a bunch of empty cartridges,
in the Wild West with Clint Eastwood clean as a whistle mixin’ with Dirty Harry’s pharmacist,
The Good Bad & The Ugly drink in acid rain and eat magic cactuses…

Howling at the full moon with peyote coyotes absent minded off the absinth mix…

Alive right here left for dead insane and out of practice with,
no clean water in the canteen and circling are the vultures just above us,
this teenage wasteland has no purpose with,
riff raft rats and religious rabbits in the crosshairs with deserted desert tortoises,
see these badlands will make the most professional professionals seem like just silly naive novices,
there’s nothing more to see here in this mirage except my rusty gun as it tarnishes…

my visions getting blurry bodies stopped but my mind’s still hurried this is what exhausted is,
and I’d escape if I knew a way out but instead I stay because I’m not sure what my other option is…

See I knew I would go I told you before everyone is targeted,
so soon it seems I’ll be just another rotting carcass that,
the Culture Vultures overhead dine on as their dinner when feeling peckishish,
terminated no terminator but like Arnold said, “I’ll be back.”, like I just started this…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Worldwide Bestselling Poet

trf Nov 2017

months are getting shorter than
                prescription bottle dates
                                  say they would
         the holes on the strap of his belt
                     are putting for triple bogey
               shedding the wrong weight and
                    feeling kinda nervous to say so
                                                              ­             shine a light on anything(-)
                                 and watch it misbehave
                       they don't want off the stage
                                    where we are going
                                        is never the way
                                          we used to be
                                     Is That Exciting
                                          Frightening
  ­                                          Relieving
             ­                                   or D.
                                       All of the above

Fuck Powerful Phallic Fallacies
SPT Oct 2017
72

Remember Cory Haim
And the man in San Marcos many wouldn't trial after four children

When Holly hides Terenece Z
The trial that never happened
And the children who never took the stand
Aaron LA Lux Oct 2017

Got that Celebrity Life,
got that “He’s Too Real” type of vibe,
got that you want to have him forever,
but you can’t because it’s “Hi” and “Bye”,

that he moves too quickly like a Gypsy,
that life’s too good somebody pinch me,
that you see him but don’t really know him,
like I’ve heard the name seen the face but who is he,

really,

no time for the drainers,
I’ll ball until on the wall of the Hall of Famers,
if Life’s a Game then I’m all in,
Life to me is what a game is to a Gamer,

dedicated,
tunnel vision,
writing books about all of this,
split decisions,

split screens and wet dreams,
getting rings I get things,
a champion at being a champion,
into inventing things that are inspiring,

even my sadness makes me happy,
can’t bring me down,
and I can’t fully pronounce this city,
but when I’m with my local friends this is my town,

this is our town,
we are local heroes,
make a lot give a lot,
so what yeah I’m a weirdo,

but so is everybody else that’s anybody,
the freaks come out at night and I’m a night owl,
if you know the Mysteries of Life,
then you already know me well,

developed such a relationship,
that strangers act like they know me,
but I guess that’s what happens,
when you’re an underground celebrity,

a celebrity to celebrities,
anybody that’s somebody should know me,
connected to a higher power,
not Austin Powers all real more like Jay Z,

got that Celebrity Life,
got that “He’s Too Real” type of vibe,
got that you want to have him forever,
but you can’t because it’s “Hi” and “Bye”…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

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