He was very much mentally exhausted from the three previous rounds of word play that we had. But I was very much still aroused.

I needed to grip on his large cranium as he inserted his think logophiled member into the creases of my cerebral.

I wanted him to feel my muscles tightening around his fingers as he caressed my mind.

I needed him to use his tongue to make my brain drip wet like a leaky faucet. I'm wondering if he lost it. Grip on my medulla and massage my grey plump jewel.

I could of done something else to stimulate my brain like reading a book about trains. But what fun would that be when my mate is by my side willing to start mentally ******* me.

I think I went overboard. He has his thinking cap on like the supreme overlord. Should I grab 100 words you never heard. Or just take my defeat and get back to the sheets.

Baby as the pendulum swings
We exist in moment that escapes time
Let my lips service your soul
with great rhetoric when i bend on my knees cause baby about to blow your mind

Should I make his toes curl by the vigorous word use I'm about to hurl.  No I'll just sit back and play defeated like the nymphal  bad girl.

Just touched down from Darwin,
2 hour layover in Sydney & I’m starvin’,
met a girl at the airport,
and invited her to dinner,

they say there’s no such thing as a free lunch,
but I’ve got a credit card that let’s me dine,
at almost any restaurant in any country,
on any continent in any dateline,

so I often invite,
beautiful girls and other fellow travelers,
to dine with me as my guest for free,
where we share stories over appetizers,

more peace stories than war stories,
more love than hate,
because when you really get to know someone,
you find you differ in less ways than you relate,

anyways,
there we were,
both on rest stops till our next stop,
two world travelers,

I’d noticed an engagement ring,
more than a modest sized rock,
but I noticed the finger on which it sat,
made the look a bit odd,

see she wore the ring,
on her ******* instead of her ring finger,
so it was more of a fck you instead of a love you,
I asked her if there was a reason for this position,

she said it was because,
it simply didn’t fit on her ring finger,
that it was a simple mix up that was it but,
I suspected there was a reason that was deeper,

so I questioned her intentions,
why was she with this man but still acting like a free woman,
why was she speaking of “exploding like a volcano!”,
when she sees a man and feels an attraction,

about how she had a fantasy,
of meeting a beautiful Australian man,
on a beach and he’d teach her to surf,
and she’d ride his surfboard from the wave to the sand,

this was when I decided to speak up,
to tell her I didn’t think this engagement would work out,
that maybe tying the knot with a man was already a dad,
was not the best idea for a woman with no kids that liked to go out,

that maybe I was in a way,
an Angel of Divine Intervention,
and how every moment of our lives,
had led us up to that instant,

I told her no man owned her,
that her body was hers alone to control,
that life is too short to compromise,
that there is no moment other than now,

I told her that that was the reason,
that I didn’t have a wife,
because there are many women I love,
and to love only one wouldn’t be right,

how can I tell one of my lovers,
that she’s better than all the rest,
how can I tell any of the others,
that they’re not as good as the one that I’m with,

I can’t,

because love is not confined into the body of one,
love is free to love and do what love does,
and with that we finished our tapas,
and finished our rendezvous with cappuccinos and hugs,

back into the world,
back into the embrace of another lover,
back into the future,
to make more memories with more women at more dinners…

∆ LaLux ∆

Spent the last 3 nights with 4 girls,
I’m tired no spare tire I’ll spare you the details,
riding ***** in the fast lane,
trying to drive faster than the Evils,
didn’t even know the girls nor did I protect myself,
so I hope I don’t get a virus like an email,
on E she’ll flood like a sea swell,
caught in the rush blinded by the light so I don’t see well,

meanwhile,

while we’re free as a dolphin or a bird,
high in a hive liking life like where the bees dwell,
they as in the ones that hate are outta water,
like a fish or better yet like a beached whale,

well,
if you’ve got stories pray tell,
and if you don’t then please step aside,
and let a real Story teller tell the tales,

see I go through it do you don’t have to do it,
all in all the time see I saw my chance and I took it,
because life is a one way street there’s no rewind or repeat,
so take every opportunity because you never want to have to say you blew it,

I really do it,

I worldwide travel with the girls I gather,
life’s a trip that’s why we stay fly,
head in the clouds feet on the ground,
if you want to find my you can check Cloud 9,

doing fine,
with some fine felines,
at kitty corner with a *****,
intoxicated from their provocative nature no need for wine,

and don’t get me wrong,
that’s kitty with two T’s not two D’s,
see I like my women fully developed,
I like a nice bush and a good pair of *******,

here kitty kitty,
I know I’m a dog but I won’t bite,
what I will do however,
is give you the ride of your life,

and that’s no lie,

and please don’t fight,
see I’m man enough to satisfy 4 at the same time,
while most men can’t even satisfy one,
at home with a limp **** and a wife that’s dissatisfied,

but hey cheer up maybe you should go the queer route,
because it’s obvious that you can’t please the women in your life,
with a physical addiction to ****** that that’ll help your ***** condition it’s sad bro,
see really men are just born with the skills to please we don’t even need to try,

that’s why I spent the last 3 nights with 4 girls,
I’m tired no spare tire I’ll spare you the details,
riding ***** in the fast lane,
trying to drive faster than the Evils,
didn’t even know the girls nor did I protect myself,
so I hope I don’t get a virus like an email,
on E she’ll flood like a sea swell,
caught in the rush blinded by the light so I don’t see well,

and that’s fine because these Divine Felines support me well,
and in return I support them too,
I’ve got their back 100%,
anything they want I’m willing to do,

they are my reason for being,
they are the breath in my lungs,
they are the motivation to keep proceeding,
to succeed in getting things done,

so when they call I come,
and when they’re on they come,
and they help each other out too,
because that’s half the fun,

fck,

almost feels better when I feel the pleasure,
of two women coming together at the same time,
than when I come myself I mean I’m over that,
I’d rather hold a cobra cat’s back as she has an ******* attack up her spine,

completely addicted to the feeling we get when,
we’re all coming in unison moving in tune as one,
it’s really the only reason I live I love every part of it,
everything else is just moments that happen to and from,

seriously,
everything else other than sensuality with me **** C’s,
is just external experiences that happen,
during all that time that is in between,

every meal every movie every drive every hike,
is just the decoration around the core of my life,
see the core of my life is the women I love,
which explains why I was with 4 women in 3 nights,

and just to be clear they were all together,
friends that wanted to share me and have no other man,
see all those fantasies that other guys have,
well that’s my real life so blessed that people are like “****”,

“How do you do it?”,
well I start with the truth then move with the music,
you either have it or you don’t and I’m a Natural Born Lover,
I’ve been blessed with these gifts from God and I use this,
to caress every princess that’s in distress from not being pleasured,
see I’ve realized that most of the men out there are stupid and useless,
their sensual sentiments have been censored they don’t even know how to enter,
students without a mentor detectives without any leads in other words they’re clues,

while I’ve realized the Divine Nature of the Divine Feline,
and how to balance extremes,
see there’s a fine line between Love & Hate,
which is why most women want to both moan and scream,

there’s a fine line between treating a girl like a ****,
and treating a girl like a queen,
because a lot of women like to be both in control and controlled,
you know what I mean,

they want to make love sometimes,
and other times they want to ****,
they want you to be gentle with them one day,
and then the next they’ll want you to be rough,

there’s almost a form of mental telepathy,
to fully be able to communicate in a way that’s correct,
but above all else please remember one thing,
before anything else there must be respect,

so have respect for every women in your life,
and the rest will likely naturally follow,
and then one day maybe you two,
can have 4 women together in one night and feel like you’re Apollo,

spent the last 3 nights with 4 girls,
I’m tired no spare tire I’ll spare you the details,
riding ***** in the fast lane,
trying to drive faster than the Evils,
didn’t even know the girls nor did I protect myself,
so I hope I don’t get a virus like an email,
on E she’ll flood like a sea swell,
caught in the rush blinded by the light so I don’t see well…

∆ LaLux ∆

new book for FREE here: www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps

Christmas in Queenstown


I’ll be the emotional martyr so hopefully you can learn from my written mistakes,
and you can find love settle down and make a family before it’s too late,
before you’re just another lonely broken hearted hopeless romantic,
that feels the most lonely on holidays…

I feel the most lonely on holidays,
I mean I feel lonely almost every day,
but especially on holidays,
I feel the most lonely on holidays,

I know it might not seem it,
but honestly I am the sentimental type,
especially on holidays,
like Easter mornings or Christmas nights,
except this sentimental sense,
usually leads me to depression,
because I have no real family to be with,
I guess that’s why my obsession with acceptance has no direction,
and my ******* is only there for attention which creates tension,
which leads to extra ****** receptions by feminine tendons with no protection,
and the misconception that this is heaven leads to spiritual indigestion,
which progresses to regret when I try to repent then write these written confessions…

I confess,
I am a mess,
but also blessed,
so what the heck,

here I sit,
it’s Christmas eve,
I’m in Queenstown,
feeling like a king,

or at least was,
at one point in the evening,
before I met that *****,
and we made lust without any reasoning,

tis the seasoning,
this is the thieving,
of all progress from healing,
when I throw it all away for some ****** feelings,

no ****** healing,

feeding,
egos with libidos,
achieving,
nothing nada zero,

see I was on Church St.,
in Queenstown how ironic,
there is no salvation on this Church,
only drunken fools that seem demonic,
and ignorance,
that spreads like it’s bubonic,

no plague though,
just shaky legged hoes,

** ** **,
merry Christmas,
let’s go go go,
on and sin no forgiveness,

she seemed so ****,
with that short cut shirt,
her belly button showing off,
flat stomach what a flirt,

I swooped in quick,
took her under my arm,
the winter wind was blowing,
it was cold I kept her warm,

took her to my car,
drove her to my place,
laid her down on my bed,
kissed her on her face,

taste,
like sugar and spice,
but this girl was all naughty,
nothing nice,
hair silver,
skin white,
she was as blond as they get,
and I’m totally into that type,

and what’d you expect,
from a girl from Finland,
white as a white Christmas,
but no Santa in this wonderland,

I wonder when,
I’ll find a way to escape these cliches,
when will I finally find a place,
where I can settle down and stay?

Anyways,

I poured some olive oil on her smooth stomach,
I rubbed her body eagerly,
she removed all her clothes,
fully exposed I was enjoying the scenery,

wanted to stay there,
to stretch out the moment,
but she was in a hurry,
so I undressed as well and got on it,

I gave her exactly what she wanted,
a ready ******* and a bit of attention,
we made a sacred act and should’ve bonded,
but like I said before my obsession with acceptance has no direction,
and my ******* is only there for attention which creates tension,
which leads to extra ****** receptions by feminine tendons with no protection,
and the misconception that this is heaven leads to spiritual indigestion,
which progresses to regret when I try to repent then write these written confessions…

I went in,
and once spent then,
I asked her one question,
“Please stay and show me at least a little affection.”,

see what is *** when,
it’s absent of expression,
and it’s just fornication and abjection,
and what should feel like acceptance simply feels like rejection,
and you’re laying there naked in all your imperfections,
feeling like a felon who’s deadliest weapon is inattention,
it’s assault but it’s not either of your faults because you’re both lethal weapons,
phantom figments of each other’s imaginations our oppressions building momentum,

until we both can’t take it any more and she just wants to leave after the deeds been done,
and we’re still laying on the bed but it feels like the floor oh well I guess tis the season then,

still I must ask even though I already know the answer,
I ask her to stay and she’s already getting up to leave,
so the asking turns into a plea because this feels like thievery in the first degree,
“please don’t leave not tonight for the love of God it’s Christmas eve!”,

and I told you before,

I feel the most lonely on holidays,
I mean I feel lonely almost every day,
but especially on holidays,
I feel the most lonely on holidays,

I know it might not seem it,
but honestly I am the sentimental type,
especially on holidays,
like Easter mornings or Christmas nights,
except this sentimental sense,
usually leads me to depression,
because I have no real family to be with,
I guess that’s why my obsession with acceptance has no direction,
and my ******* is only there for attention which creates tension,
which leads to extra ****** receptions by feminine tendons with no protection,
and the misconception that this is heaven leads to spiritual indigestion,
which progresses to regret when I try to repent then write these written confessions,

so that these confessions will hopefully metamorphosize into lessons,
that others can learn from to prevent getting burned from other’s complexions of aggressions,
and escape from being the possession of their own misdirected intentions,
because cure is not as good as prevention and deflection is always better than correction,

hence when we are together it seems like destruction but when we’re apart it’s perfection,
because together we’ve all been through enough to fill an anthology of apologies no exceptions,
still I love all of these as in all of us because I find this mess so beautiful upon further reflection,
as all us broken hearted hopeless lovers just become footnotes in The Book of Love’s addendum…

And since we’re at the addendum,
I guess this is thee end then,
in other words,
this is Thee Ending.

Thee Ending.


∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

So that's what you think of me

How could I have thought for even a minute that I was respectable.

All this time I was thinking I was deserving of love and kindness.

Last thing on my mind was your opinion of me, and it hurt. It ******* hurt.

Look at you, sitting in a seat of power and leering over me calling me shallow.

On further inspection, yeah it was ****** up of me to get fresh with my counselor.

What's a shallow nymphomaniac expected to do otherwise? Riddle me that.

Lost in Lisbon,
just me and my addictions,
and when I say addictions,
I mostly mean my addiction to women,

caught in the same cliche,
but I can’t seem to get away,
like a dream that keeps repeating,
same place same case just a different day,

thinking that somehow *** can replace,
the actual act of acceptance,
thinking that regret can somehow set,
the pace for some sort of repentance,

but nothing changes,
except the weather and sometimes the faces,
found I’m still lost,
I’m a great shot but what’s the worth of a great shot that’s aimless?

No target,
no goals,
just a free market,
that’s completely uncontrolled.

There are no rules,
there’s no reality on which to base this face it,
we are all lost that is for sure,
only difference is most of us don’t want to admit it.

Addicted,
to the chaos it’s such a turn on,
even when I feel sick,
and my heart’s gone cold I’m still burnin’,

she’s turning,
her back on me,
says she doesn’t want to have ***,
and I understand her exactly,

sometimes I wish I wasn’t a man,
sometimes I wish we were all brilliant light,
want to leave my dull bland body so bad,
that if someone came to take my life I wouldn’t even fight.

I don’t fight her,
she says no so I sit up and ask her to leave,
it’s almost 4 o’clock in the afternoon already,
and she’s got a flight to catch that’s leaving for Italy,

and it is then that I see that she’s leaving me,
both figurative and literally,
which I guess I accept because one fact,
we all leave everyone and everything eventually,

even ourselves,
the cards we were dealt,
were bizarre as a guitar played like like a bagpipe by a Celt,
and even though we feel no more well hell at least there was a time we felt,

oh well,
I understand now that you’re timeless and your love is priceless,
fairwell,
we win some and we lose some I guess that’s what this Game of Life is,

blameless and shameless in Lisbon having a midlife crisis.

Living in cities of sin singing songs of wrong still trying to be righteous,
lost as a lark trying to parrot a song to carry us along and guide us,
flying through this civic blueprint climbing high we deny lies and define all aliveness,
and even though your iris is sublime and so is mine we can’t seem to see through our own blindness,
  
like trying to adjust to the distrust that we feel when we’re told that someone loves us,
and the ironic thing is that in your strangeness I see a similar likeness.

We lost us.

We lost us and our fondness for any sort of conscious conscience,
so now we’re in love with fervid thugs and hooligans that are heartless,
and when we’re asked why we’re in love with this life we say because we are artist,
which partially explains why I’m in Portugal in pain with a beauty that’s stunningly monstrous.

Lost in this,
constant concoction of consciousness,
lost in this,
city by the ocean caught in the North Atlantic drifts,

lost in Lisbon,
just me and my addictions,
and when I say addictions,
I mostly mean my addiction to women…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

20/08/16

She loves him,
or at least, a part of him.
She does what she does,
she loves on a whim.

© Matthew Harlovic