Moods erupt internally like if embers
turned to lightning, sparkling fireflies
wanting to turn permanent marble burning
fires that fuel passion. Lungs breathing
out poetry as it’s supposed to live when
reciting. Ripping the wind open, both
echos in whispers and loudness like
thunder booms. In deepening weight, leaving
homage for future generations in humanity.
Taking scents of strawberries and in drenched
of mysticism. Velvet stain lodging in minds
of the capable thinkers and spat out new
philosophy in response to that poetry from
a unknown pair of lungs. Let everyone
revolt against current standards and permit
a new way of living. As myth turned to reality.

Just remember, the most common face can hide the most sinful acts of humanity. And generally no worse the rest of us. For any evil to be accepted, one must spend time demoralizing it in the public sphere. Let it become normal. Remember, ignorance is bliss and Lavey first Satanic sin is in regards to stupidity. For most, morals and ethics are for the others in suits and one’s in isolated libraries. For it at times, monotonous, boring, lowkey, faceless and holding no emotion. In a fog, you can buy a gift for a boy, jumping joy and wagging tail, to which lives in amazement, as smiles from friends, surprised to see crime in the streets as no one places value on education. Do not judge the one who preaches evil, but judge on the size of the mob and every individual there. Anyone in modern age can be anything, including a higher power and veiled pagan attributes. Evil is cannot be cured with evil, as it eats on the same table as you. As a Satanist, I am my own hero and greatest enemy. If I contribute to reality, that is my only connection to a larger society. For both goodness and evil is relative. People work, people live, people love and people cry. Nothing in this world people hold more dearer to their hearts than the things they had worked for. As for that, it is where evil will value. To be completely successful in this life, requires a lot of ego and more ignorance, when it’s too late, your soul had been lost.
https://www.amazon.com.au/Inherent-Sin-Darcy-Prince-ebook/dp/B07FR5FW42/ref=sr13?ie=UTF8&qid=1532992472&sr=8-3&keywords=darcy+prince

Finding love is to find unfamiliar beauty, noble and true,
pure in the eyesight, throughout duration before death,
a beauty that demands indulgence and conquers one’s
personal soul, their total being, consumed in every
pocket of essence. Stronger than the Devil. Oh lover,
I’m being torn apart beyond violent sobs in the corner
alone. In genius ways, it's like I’m being applied to evil
for when I’m cursed to be not around you. I vowed to
never write poetry again, if you accepted my hand.
Until then, I’m sure you’ll enjoy master of this world.
As the Devil runs riot and commits himself to his
own death, no longer able to rule earth.

The Aliens invented religion,
or at least the idea of a Heaven & Hell,
not sure the motives behind their invention,
but it seems to have something to do with oil,

and gold and iron and all the other precious resources,
that exist on Earth and are harvested, mined, extracted,
in order to pay people yeah you know Hue Mans,
so that those same Humans can pay The System it’s taxes,

anyways we’re distracted,
let us get back to the point of the matter,
which is that Aliens invented religion,
and before you refuse to believe the truth take a look closer,

they say Heaven is a place in the sky,
and that God appears sometimes,
out of the “Heavens” and onto the Earth,
in the form of a bright ball of light,

sounds a lot like,
God arrives on a spaceship,
sounds a lot like,
They want us to look to the sky when we worship,

now what about the forest,
and the hot springs from Mother Earth,
well according to The Bible under the earth is were Hell dwells,
and under the ground is where the “bad” go to burn,

and anyone that worships the Earth,
instead of worshipping the Church,
get’s accused of being a wicked witch,
is tied to a stake and burned,

see I’ve got reason to believe,
that The Powers That Be want us to believe,
that space is good and earth is bad,
and we humans are here stuck in between,

would make sense wouldn’t it,
plus it’d explain why we commit atrocities in God’s name,
why we ****** each other and carve out the insides of our Mother,
and why we can do these awful things without any shame,

how else could we enslave people and animals,
how else could we pollute the oceans and lands,
how else could we do all of this with a clean conscious,
and not even feel the least bit bad?

Yeah I figured it out it’s all all fact,

and the only reason you’d refuse to believe this truth,
is collective cognitive dissidence,
because if you speak out against the Space People,
then you’re considered a delusional citizen,

can get locked away for the things you say,
then force fed pills until all of your feelings go away,
so stop theorizing on the real reason for the Bible,
and get back to work so you can get paid,

and all of this may be why,
we feel a sense of alienation in this Alien Nation,
because The Aliens invented religion upon their invasion,
even though we’re not sure the motives behind their invention…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Breitenbush Summer Solstice 2018

New Book Alert: 08/08/18; THT2: The Mandala

Adolf ****** may have been an evil *******...
In fact he was without a doubt.
I don’t need to remind us all but the things he said and did is kinda what this is about.
I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s imagined....
What if ****** and the Nazis won?
What would the world we live in today be like?
cos the powers that be have still got us under their thumb.
Some say some Jew called Rothschild has taken over,
But like a 4 leaf clover,
I’m not going to let that conspiracy get to me
cos I already worry too much about my own life
as stress can sometimes cut me open
and feels just like a blunt knife.

So getting to the point....

I have no issues with America and her people,
I’ve been to Montana, Washington, New York and even Seattle,
It IS a little too big for my liking,
But that’s not the point in this rant that I’m writing,
I do wanna cite though that for the record I loved Obama,
Despite the air strikes upon Syria he ordered he didn’t cause too much drama,
Maybe certain Americans just love starting wars,
Who knows? maybe cos of their ridiculous gun laws
Every country has their own patriotic flaws,
and eyesores in the dilated pupils of foreigners.
I tell you what though....
Satsumas...
I look at those differently these days,
I used to love the taste of them but now they just remind me of a certain pig headed face,
Calling him a disgrace is an understatement,
it seems like everything he does is just for his own entertainment,
I can understand why the red necks voted for him,
cos he knew what to say to get his puppets on a string,
and the thing is
is that this all feels like a Hollywood movie,
Rudely perverted, ****** and *****,
with no happy ending,
bending their laws
Of what is right and what is wrong
we’re either longing for another saviour or the end of the world,
at least for now

(C)

Her, a silent twilight, alura of lights, glitter outside
from the in. A sublime way, letting go of her own
queenness, surpassing poetry and any narrative
of symphony. Thought ballet tried to replicate.
Belonging only to herself, for herself and none other,
than the chess game of mind, body and soul.
Musical actions, outgrowing sentimentality. Modern art,
portrait paintings, clanker's orchestra. Mystical
in fluid literature, writing such as these, potent poetic
prose. To where she won’t notice, nor even care.
Mother to art. Sister to romance. Regal without effort.
Harmony in thy soul. Because her breathe is harmony
in this world. Where this earth or matrix, perhaps
isn’t as sinful as I thought. (I repose from spells,
there is a belief in love and romance that sparkles
in this world as poetry.)

Cliche beginnings, eye catching glances, images layed over heart, ****** lust. Touching civilization. Constant linage over time. Felt and now posed in forever. Flamed passions, wild hearts, glaring from the eyes.
Heaven smiles. Earth blushes.
No longer to argue with society, protesting against, never. Inclined to give in. Forgetting about the normality of life, where others suffer. Love left to experience as something happens to others is sill and thought dripping poetry, is now one’s own hands. A souls liberty. Dream fulfilling. Intimate moments. Mimicking poems. Glowing engagement between two.
If it’s told in theatre, proposals for immortality.
Shocked and accidental.
No sense of possibly returning.
For they are not who I had expected. Neo. How saving hee, never. Oh how love deems and falls, melting over one, like gold over marble. For I never asked, dreamt of, or even yearned for. Though they are there and I cannot turn away.  
Normal in love.
Different outside the normality of where we both come from.
Whimpering without, like a child
and I roar when she’s around.
Feeling utterly untouchable, brave to be thyself as we experience contentment.
Poetry follows but will never emulate.
(knowledge variable)

Could happiness be counted elsewhere, outside one’s own inner-world? Developing more. Secrets in the eyes. Writing poetry from flower petals and moths eating dreams.
Glory in nature.
Artists stepping outside normal living.
Living with one’s duality, insignificance and their attributes that contribute to reality.
Still rising, not to speak with violent words.
Risking
with
vulgarity  
bitterness
Inside.
To be in pursuit with confliction and burdens pressed upon shoulders. Romance only wanted. Love in the final endgame. Touching existence.
Bleaching thoughts, dripping from the ears and mouth. Prepping to purge. Stars of the night.
Painting Van Gogh.
Careless words spoken in poetry.
Recklessness mastered. So goodbye for now. Exiled more. In volunteer terms. High art raged. Dropping off poems for suspecting confusion.  And if I shall die before my own meaning is found. Cry none. I’m not hard to find.

Perhaps poetry is destined to be the hopeless romantic,
a duration meant to endure, not changing a persona,
it just lives, as it’s be, as it should. To live, it’s suffering
in private burdens, while we smile at brief moments of
complete contentment in our singular package of formed
figures. Poetry is a derivative serving ever so few.
(knowledge variable)