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. . .on a pond
floating here,
gliding there . . .
not really water,
nor, is it completely air,
just a substance inbetween us all.
What is the point of endless economic crashes when you print money by typing on a keyboard? If capitalism can only exist as formula tweaked and altered to ripen gains and losses then it is a fraud.
I once saw a nation on fire,
just their home a family's desire.
The government was corrupted by liars,
with an economy trapped in quagmires?
To end the schism they gave Wall Street socialism,
leaving 'The People' impoverished and tired.
Sea of money, green wave it crashes...
...take it peon, take all your lashes!
Homeowners, taxpayers, nation, investor,
my hands on it all, everything; for I am molester!

Ideology, philosophy and ego,
entering your hearts, your minds; the Sea Goat!
All of it for my class, the world is our pile... I choke off the spigot and wither you Gen-tile!

Money subjugation, adorn it with laurels...

Banker am I!

The man of no morals!
Aaron LaLux Jun 2016
So I made a song with this poem. Please listen to the song when you read this poem. It's kinda experimental, please let me know what you think. Okay, here's the music link and here's the written poem. Go ahead play the song and read the poem at the same time :-) I'm REALLY CURIOUS to see what you think about it for real. Thank You and YES I Love You. ∆

Soundcloud; Aaron La Lux, Welcome to Wall Street;

Wolf of Wall Street

Belly of the Beast,
Bull by the Horns,
welcome to Wall street,
where it's always calm before the storm,
sun rises in the east,
then sets in the palms,
joker brokers don't give a ****t,
Robin in sin giving no alms,
just stock certificates that are counterfeit,
the poor being robbed blind distracted by Tiffany's charms,

Belly of the Beast,
Bull by the horns,
Raging Bull ****t stinks,
blood red roses and platinum thorns,
devils defecate drama causing trauma dreams decease,
when the American Dream finally dies no one will mourn,
we'll all just grin and bear it like we do when we have a disease,
commerce is always calmer before a perversely well performing storm,
broken hearts we wear on our designer shirt sleeves,
no cuff links just conflicts and economic hit men in uniform uniforms,

in Belly of the Beast in Hell's Kitchen brewing up a **** storm,
can you smell it?
I tell it,
can you hear it,
We're it,
though that what that we are I can't fully describe,
going to hell in a Bentley hand basket,
but at least we're enjoying the ride,

one way,
upside down,
in an elevating elevator,
self implosion motion here in boomtown,
one way on the rise,
rising down,
one way,
on the rise,
rising up full of hot air in a balloon,
until the bubble burst and we fall from Cloud 9,

as we free fall out into nothing...

World wide assisted suicide,
I held him until he died,
self assisted suicide,
from a self inflicted desire to die,
had that beautiful corner office view from floor 49,
until he jumped out the window when he went out his mind,
sometimes the darkest souls burn the brightest lights,
for better or for worse these are the days of our lives,
be careful what you wish for be careful what you find,
and I'm not Darth Vader but welcome to the Darkside…

Who decides,
who lives and who dies?
No one does,
and that's because,
everybody dies,
Bulls eye,
spot on,
bodies in,
the Hudson,
no man or mother is a match for Father Time,

what Son?
What's one,
life when all is divine,
as we walk the line,
with a pocket full of Johnny Cash,
Persian rug burns I've developed a rash,
as we walk the line,
tight rope,
tied between Twin Towers,
a World Trade of world slaves,
intoxicated by the power,

in the Belly of The Beast,
got the Bull by the horns,
so we grin and Bear it,
we take the roses with the thorns,
as we count the moments,
down to the final hour,
there's no time left for atonement,
because our souls have been devoured,
so now we're in the Belly of the Beast,
forgot the Ten Commandments here in the 11th. Hour,
at war with ourselves death will be a relief,
looking forward to the moment when we can finally rest in peace.


∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

from The H Trilogy;
available worldwide 7/7/16

brandon nagley Jun 2015
Casa of all blocks
Thou art hidden between thorn berries
And years!!!!

Thine windows sell thy tears
To salesmen
Of deaths door!!!

Darkly shores
Thou hast arrived to
Plays thou hast blended
Thy do of hahas
And wanting more for the taking!!!!

Decourous thou art
Wallstreet handler!!!


When the stock market closes
Thy wallets benevolent
Forces are unseen
Something quick made up about noone lol
Glottonous Jun 2015
An irrational animal gets high
From the ravenous pump of its own tongue,
Nursing wounds of a disease untreated.

His fat meat skulks through marbled corridors
Around eyes that assign value to worth,
Fixated on transactions to be paid.

The ring and flash of victory courses
Through his silken veins and opens his mouth
To swallow the pride of the defeated

Reflection in a puddle of his own
Drool, clinging shakily from toothless dogs,
Addicted to the peak and crash of trade.

— The End —