Marley Brando

So many options,
can’t say too many options,
but honestly what do you do,
when even too much is not enough,

“What?”,

“Were you saying something?,
I feel like I’m in a dream,
I’m asking for affirming,
because I don’t feel a thing…”,

You stare at me with those infinite eyes,
“I feel exactly the same way.”,
then you shift your gaze,
and stare off for eternity,

as that fire inside keeps burning me,

something simmering inside is burning me,

anxious and pacing,
all out of patience,
feeling like a Patient in a ******-Ward society,
yes I’m fine so please don’t bother me,
I won’t sign over royalties and no I don’t need notoriety,

I’ll leave that for the words,
and all the flabby flack from the flock of ruffle feathered haters,
waiting in the wings I fly by & leave that for the Birds,
word word word,

words are what we scribe as a Writer of The Times,
words to explain when I’m gone,

words to explain when we’re gone,
when the memories have all faded,
because unless a Tyrant burns the books,
we’ll have our history scribed onto these pages,

lopsided but liberated,
feeling like a rat in a cage,
or a canary in a coalmine,
consumed with the thought to “Just get way.”,

just get away,
I’m already gone anyways,
don’t be fooled by this shell of a body,
I’ve been through Hell so now I’m in The Hills where I party,

Heaven can wait I’m on the Guest-List anyways so I won’t have to waste time at The Gate,

ready to party,
with Jim Morrison and Bob Marley,
and Brando but no Commando,
yeah I’m talking to you Sylvester sorry,

Charlie,
Chaplin for certain,
Sheen well we’ll see,
Janis, Jackson, Kurt and,
Pac and it don’t stop,

does it,
what’s in,
your wallet,
Rest In Peace,
Christopher Wallace,

smoking a chalice,
on Cloud 9 with Marley Brando,
cool as an Ice Cream Sundae,
relaxing watching the world go bananas,

B-A-N-A-N-A-S,

shout out to Gwen,
Steph,
I spin around and ask,
“What is this,
I meanI know it sounds cliche,
but does any of this really exist?”,

“Oh and where’d my mind go?”,

So many options,
won’t say too many though,
but honestly what do you do,
when even too much is not enough?,

“What?”,

“Were you saying something?,
I feel like I’m in a dream,
I’m asking for affirming,
because I don’t feel a thing…”…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

author of 3 #1 Best Sellers,
& The Poetry Trilogy
∆

The Basketball Diaries

I’m losing my faith in humanity,
and I’m just as much a part of the problem,
here I’ll explain an example,
it involves The Basketball Diaries,

went to a rooftop cinema in Budapest,
there I met two beautiful girls,
they brought me up to the VIP,
fed me drinks and helped me feel again,

it was a bit surreal,
on that rooftop,
watching Leo on the big screen,
it’s always surreal seeing someone on screen that I’ve actually met,

Leo’s a cool guy,
trying to save the world even though it all seems hopeless,
anyways there I was watching Leonardo DiCaprio,
play the starring role of a strung out poet,

the parallels are there,
but my addiction is not ******,
yes I’m strung out,
but my drug of choice is women friends,

so when the two girls in the VIP,
got closer and closer to me,
I feel deeper and deeper in love,
because I love unconditionally without apologies,

we went back to my place,
I put some videos on my projector screen,
I almost had *** with one of them,
the one I though would be my girlfriend,

her friend interrupted,
girl interrupted,
boy interrupted,
she said she wanted a guy to have *** with too,

so we went back out,
albeit reluctantly,
to a cliche club with a bunch of tourist,
so my girl’s friend could get some exotic ****,

it was then I realized,
as the two danced together,
trying to lure in a man,
just to get him inside of them,

that humanity is truly lost,
and apart of me died,
right there on that dance floor,
I felt the club,

see,
I don’t want to find a girl to just fck at night,
I don’t want a dawn goodbye,
I want mimosas with my lover at brunch the next day,

I guess I’m too much of a romantic,
that’s what I get for being a poet,
feeling strung out like Leo,
just searching for another fix,

just chasing that first high,
that first real love,
but all I find out here these days,
is ******* and hoes that are counterfeit,

fck it,

I’m so done,
maybe I should become a monk,
my life is too blessed,
to mess with these girls that couldn’t care less,

I miss,
humanity,
and I watch it sparkle and fade,
as I add another piece of me to this charade,

a piece of me died on that dance floor,
and I probably deserved the pain that brought,
and call me naive or whatever,
but I still feel that not all hope is lost,

see,

I’m losing my faith in humanity,
and I’m just as much a part of the problem,
here I’ll explain an example,
it involves The Basketball Diaries…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

00:00 Valentines Day

It’s midnight,
and I’m,
alone again,
trying to fill the time,
with these words I write,

watched the Grammy’s last night,
Twenty One Pilots,
standing there in their underwear,
reminding us that we can be,
anything,

Hollywood,
my home,
so many people,
at the Grammy’s,
I’ve met and befriended,

but sometimes,
the enthusiasm seems so gone,
it feels like we’re living,
after the credits when the film has ended,

like,

what’s happened to us,
where have we gone,
and why,
do we still feel,
so totally alone,

supposed to be gone by the morning,
flight to Cabo to pick up my truck,
just flew in from Australia,
found letters from the IRS in my PO Box,
welcome home boy now it’s time to pay your tax,

met my accountant tonight,
gave him all the paperwork,
we chatted for a minute in his Range Rover,
I made a joke about having a black accountant,
he reminded me of the Basquiat photo I’d given him,

Basquiat in the 80’s,
looking awkward as fck,
holding a FroZade cup in his hand,
a crooked No Parking sign standing by,
and the ‘ol Twin Towers towering in the hazed background,

another genius gone before his time,
sometimes the art we create is ahead of us,
sometimes we have to watch our success from the Heavens,
1 2 3 4 5 6 7,
8 9 10 11,
12,

It’s midnight,
and I’m,
alone again,
trying to fill the time,
with these words I write,

watched the Grammy’s last night,
Twenty One Pilots,
standing there in their underwear,
reminding us that we can be,
anything…

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

The City of Demonios

“Why are some people waiters,
and some people are waited on,
why are some people Haters,
and some people hated on?”

I was awaited on,
before they knew they were waiting,
pinch from dreams or so it seems,
because it appears the people are awaking,

I’ve awaken,
in some sort of dreaming,
and I’m trying to not let them get me,
but it seems they get everyone eventually,

preyed on by hungry demons,
Fallen Angels that haven’t found peace,
from the city of Los Angeles,
to the beaches in the East,

a feast,
I offer up my body for Death,
see only through the death of the physical,
can the Soul truly ascend,

ascend,
do not fear the Reaper,
friend,
let’s make them all Believers,

I see her,
like a nightmarish dream,
I love Her I hate her I have to have her,
she stares in my eyes and makes the Silence scream,

scream,
isn’t that a painting,
a dream,
isn’t that just waiting,

let’s not,
let our,
hopes only be hopes,

manifest,
all of this,
before Death ties His rope,

around your neck,
suffocation,
please let me free,
we need liberation,

but for now,
I’ll just take a glass of water,
I’m parched it’s a desert out here,
and I’m wondering if the trouble’s worth the bother,

“Waiter,
please a glass of water.”,
I turn to you after ordering a glass,
and say “Isn’t it ironic.”,

“Why are some people waiters,
and some people are waited on,
why are some people Haters,
and some people hated on?”…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Life is fast & furious,
But achieved patiently,
Are all those good things.
All houses are not Toretto's,
Because life is so unique,
And it is really not like,
The Fast and the Furious.