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I wish I could meet him
Have a heart to heart
Ask a few questions and talk it out
I'll be the interviewer
You be Theresa May lie about strong and stable til you're blue in the face
"Why me?" I ask
You slip on your words and I swear I hear you say
"You've got to understand i only plague the mind of the strong and we need to learn to get along"
I sit up at the edge of my bed questioning why I'm talking to myself  
I'm not that gone yet.
I'll find the common strength to overcome myself .
Bath thoughts.
Zero Nine Oct 2017
My human body      
              stings of age
                     ache and pain
My human bone
              breaks
My human strength
              decays

My human form
              twists, deforms
                     courts mirrors
My anxious nerves
              burn
My fragile heart
              stops

Make my limb
Make my life long
Take my parts
Make me evolve

make my limb                                                                                        

                                                                                     make my life long

make my heart                                                  


                                              beat, eternal            

I long for painlessness
Bless this beautiful ship I control,
but I would trade the ephemeral
  flesh, bone, blood and marrow
to the first back alley broker
of cheap plastics I meet
get me out of here, quick.
Zero Nine Oct 2017
Left my heart in one with you
now, it's in two.

I return to find
the foundation
of my life

Ripped up
Roses clipped
The garden
closes in
a bed of grey

I return to find
the foundation
of my life

Removed professionally
Disconnected
Cautiously clamped, and taken
from the veins

Why!?

You're the
empty
meadow
in my
memory

The tome forgotten
The lost home

Why!?

Ani - mos - ity
grows over time
Ani - mos - ity
grows old and cold

I plead my case
to time,
"Be kind."

Thunder:
the resounding,
"No."

I return to find
the foundation
of my life

Ripped up
Roses clipped,
the garden
spoiled
under your shoes

Left my heart in one with you
now, it's in two.
Zero Nine Oct 2017
We've our grievances
right
here in hand

Blood soaked envelopes
stamped
sweat and seal

They use empty truths
to pitch hate
as a promised land

They sell their answers
used, as is
to the fearing masses

And they do so
dirt cheap
dirt cheap

From a throne
of our skulls
and ancient
bones

.our ******* bones.
thrash trash post-*******
Northern Poet Oct 2017
She broke his heart
It needed stitches
Then he said
All women are witches

She let him down
You’re not to blame
I’m leaving this town
It’s not the same
We had love
But it went away
What could have been
Wasn’t meant to stay

He can’t sleep
And his body itches
Then he said
All women are witches

One bad experience
Cut him deep in side
Deeper and deeper
With a rusty old knife
What was once love
Wasn’t meant to be
You’ll get over her
And those memories

The mind weeps
While the body twitches
Then he said
All women are witches

He took the wrong path
And he walked the line
She took him for granted
While he bought her wine
She lied to his face
Time after time
An utter disgrace
He’s now doing just fine
It's never easy
But you've got to let go
Enough is enough
I’m tired of this show
Now he's free as a bird
And back on track
He’s ****** her off
And got his life back

Now she’s gone
He removed the stitches
And no longer thinks
All women are witches
Northern Poet Oct 2017
We're not all gonna live forever
Not matter how big
Or how ******* clever
Though it would be nice
To think twice
About how we're gonna spend
The afterlife
But in reality
We live and we die
We laugh and we cry
We love and we lie
We look fate
Right in the ******* eye
And when it's time
Life passes us by
And we end up in a box
Staring up at the sky
Aaron LaLux Oct 2017
Mumok Museum

What am I doing in Vienna,
staring at art as the world burns,
in city I never wanted to go to,
doing things that seem rather uninspiring,

where’s the inspiration gone,
why does everything seem so tiring,
it seems we’re on the verge of a collective mental breakdown,
the system’s short circuiting and could do with some rewiring.

Why does every rags to riches story I know,
end in an overpriced designer outfit all alone?

Why is Consumerism followed like a religion,

we don’t worship Jesus we worship Visa,
good credit better than good morals,
we don’t praise Muhammed in a daze with TV Dramas,
no Buddha just computers no real friends just PayPals,

and maybe that’s why we’d rather be blind than see,
maybe that’s why we hide in museums behind sunglasses,
but would you rather have expense tastes than be free,
because when you’re behind any type of four walls you’re trapped,

where in a Federal Pen with Madoff or a Penthouse with Paris in Paris,
either way we’re victims of our own restrictions trying to buy some more time to be,
but we’re running out of credit the banks are collapsing the recession is relapsing,
so why even try to by when we know not so secretly that only Love will truly set us free,

see,

the best things in life still are free,
and yeah liberation is expensive and self renovations are extensive,
but freedom is priceless,
and it seems that the Love Pyramid is the only pyramid that’s not a ponzi scheme,

because we are all equal even if we’re not all treated equally,
that’s why some have no clothes while others wear designer denim jeans,
but these Diesels are too tight on my thighs and this macabre carnival has no prize,
and I can do anything I want with my life but sometimes all I want to do is breather,

breathe,
breathe because this lifestyle is expensive,
but freedom is priceless,
even though they market it and try to price it,

I just,
want to find a place to relax and release,
all of this,
fck their politics,

fck their programs fck their projects,
fck their agendas dressed in artificial splendor,
fck their treating human beings as objects,
fck their consumerism culture of capitalists,

I just,
don’t know what else to say,
I don’t know why I’m at this museum in Vienna,
hiding on the top floor on a Sunday,

on the 5th floor I just want to give more,
just want to gift these words then make my escape,

just want to be alone,
but also want these words to be known,
but where do you go when you’re tired and over it all,
and you just want to rest but don’t have nor ever had a home,

hello,
could you please pick up the phone,
I’m calling because I still love you,
and I want to come back even though I’m already gone,

on the top floor of the Mumok museum in Vienna,
on the 5th floor to be exact,
and yeah it’s true that I don’t know where I’m going,
but what I do know is I don’t think I’m coming back,

online and off track,
writing more words that rhyme,
then any other living writer,
and that is an actual fact,

and yeah that’s a fact,
but I’m going to follow that with a question,
before I forget,
let me just ask what I am doing in Vienna,

what am I doing in Vienna,
staring at art as the world burns,
in city I never wanted to go to,
doing things that seem rather uninspiring,

where’s the inspiration gone,
why does everything seem so tiring,
it seems we’re on the verge of a collective mental breakdown,
the system’s short circuiting and could do with some rewiring.

Why does every rags to riches story I know,
end in an overpriced designer outfit all alone?

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Northern Poet Oct 2017
That passion
When you see the ground
That passion
When you hear the crowd
There’s nothing quite like it
When you hear them all sing
The fans are in unison
To watch their team win

Until it all goes wrong
Then you change your song
You give them stick
And think
Why do I support this ****
They make me sick
They’re not worthy
To wear that shirt
Over paid wankers
Playing like dirt

We want our money back
I’m not paying my wage
To watch that crap
Then you hit the town
And then you drown
Your sorrows in drink
And then you think
I love my team
But they make my heart sink
Deep down you feel the pain
Until next week
When it all starts again
Northern Poet Oct 2017
You'll eat meat
And love a bacon sarnie
When you're ******
You'll smash a biryani
But when it comes to
Chopped pork, rinds and ham
No one wants to eat spam

In the Great War
We survived on rations
And beat zee Germans
With ******* passion
The lads didn't complain
About what they had to eat
Whether it was a le carte
Or mashed-up meat
But these days
That's not your jam
And no one wants to eat spam

It's great in a fry up
And ******* lovely in a butty
Get the kettle on
And get comfy
And enjoy
A cup of ******* tea
And eat your spam
Perfect with ketchup or HP
And don't complain
That it ain't real meat
Just get it in your gob
And enjoy this tasty treat

But most of you
Are to blame
And like the majority
Don't think it's the same
You're into avocados
Poached eggs and all that
And can't stand the thought
Of a chopped pig in a can
When you were young
You should've listened to your nan
Now it's a ******* shame
No one wants to eat spam
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