#newzealand
Dear wide, comforting
McMurdo Sound.
The beautiful nowhere.
Perennial comforts high above.
Here is cold Ross Dependency.
Here is Erebus.
Surface landmarks:
hawk moth mirage
--malevolent trick
of the polar light.
Orphans of the sky.
First impressions in the snow.
Mountain tomb, angels sing.
Coffins full of ice.
They say the smell of kerosene
never leaves you,
and that on a clear day you can
still see the debris.
Feb 5, 2024
Feb 5, 2024 at 9:09 AM UTC
It is lonely here
This land is so far away
Beyond the empty blue
Past the acid rain
The sky is pitch black
The air is chill
Not a soul in sight
On my lonely hill
The stars have settled
The moon is beaming
The tears have dried
I have lost all feeling
It is lonely here
Sometimes it is hard to see
This lovely desolate land
Lacks company
Jan 2, 2020
Jan 2, 2020 at 4:09 AM UTC
Flax blades
Howling birds
The tears of strangled mountains
Flip a coin
The land of the long white cloud
A sun so bright
The shadows are buried
7 feet below
Alongside those whose eyes
Were convinced
The coin only flipped one side
Sep 4, 2019
Sep 4, 2019 at 5:53 PM UTC
Look at this Mess the Messiah made
You’d think He’d have kept up with things
But all he’s good for is bringing good honest people together
In a place where it’s easy to ******* shoot them
Mar 26, 2019
Mar 26, 2019 at 12:59 PM UTC
Tomorrow New Zealand's
beautiful sunrise won't see
some forty plus lives that they too
never expected to miss.
The rose will flower for them too
brimming with brightest hues
to colour the wind.
So are the nightingales have the lyrics
for them to sing.
Not to mention like yesterday
people around of all walks and colours
expected to greet them good morning!
Alas, it won't happen tomorrow
one openly fired at the peaceful setting.
Killed them all in one go
loved by all the humankind around
and naturally nurtured by reality!
Because we have an enemy within.
Mar 15, 2019
Mar 15, 2019 at 11:25 AM UTC
Attempting to make the memories,
of these moments last longer than the moments themselves,
but at the end of the day I’m just a loner with some poems,
because we all lose everyone close to us including ourselves,
what the Hell,
what the Heaven,
running out of Time and into Luck,
what an interesting combination,
they say,
necessity is the “mother of all invention”,
but I’m a ******* child running wild,
so I have no mother nor father at least not that I care to mention,
only have the pen when,
writing these verses constantly,
that and the accompaniment,
of the associated memories,
feel like all of this was meant for me,
which reminds me of a saying they have in India,
“You’re always where you’re supposed to be because that’s where you are.”,
I couldn’t have said something so complex any simpler,
simply speaking pause,
take a moment to spell the flowers,
simply speeding past,
sometimes it feels like I have more lifetimes than I do hours,
which I guess makes sense in a sense,
because time is only relative anyways,
and there’s no way something so omnipresent can be explained,
in a way that’s so linear in it’s emphasis,
anyways where was I with this,
this poem about nothing in particular,
well I guess I was as in am,
on a plane south of the equator,
passing over New Zealand,
also known as Ateorora,
still attempting to make sense of this,
of all the sounds and the colors,
still attempting to make the memories,
of these moments last longer than the moments themselves,
but at the end of the day I’m just a loner with some poems,
because we all lose everyone close to us including ourselves…
∆ LaLux ∆
Nelson, New Zealand
Jan 18th, 2019
Mar 1, 2019
Mar 1, 2019 at 3:06 PM UTC
A velvet topography,
Of ridges and furrows,
Undulations of light and shade,
A land born of upheaval,
And tectonic collisions,
With a fault line for a spine.
Jan 31, 2019
Jan 31, 2019 at 8:01 PM UTC
Bought a painting of Jaden Smith,
now wait before you diss,
give me a second to explain,
there’s a story that goes along with it,
see he had a show in LA,
and of course it was on the 7th,
3rd show of the tour,
and the tour was called Vision,
I hadn’t planned to go,
didn’t even know about the show,
until my brother Alpha told me about it,
and the cards aligned in a row,
see a few days before,
I’d backed my car into a wall,
and I had to take it to East LA,
to get it fixed in other words resolved,
now it just so happened,
that the day I took it to get fixed,
was the same day as Jaden’s show,
now that’s some Cosmicness,
see the show was downtown,
and I usually don’t go east of the 405,
but this time I did to get my car fixed,
and I asked a friend to pick me up because I couldn’t drive,
so she picked me up,
and then my other friend told me of an art show,
at a place called The Brewery,
and man how I love art shows,
so after dropping off the car,
and went to The Brewery,
where I bought some art,
because I like to collect future history,
now the girl that had picked me up,
was having a rough day,
because her brother had died 6 months earlier,
and today was his birthday,
so she had to leave,
and go to the beach,
and I stayed behind,
to let her have some peace,
and as it so happened,
there was another anniversary at a gallery called The Hive,
I told you the cards were in a row,
and of course the stars were aligned,
so I went to the next art gallery,
got a ride there from a beautiful Polish chic,
bought some more art at there as well,
I guess I am what a Collector is,
then it just so happened,
that I was walking distance from Jaden’s show,
so I walked through downtown,
until I arrived at The Novo,
now I didn’t have a ticket,
and the show as sold out,
but I found a side door,
and it opened right up,
I went inside,
and got with the vibes,
man that kid Jaden,
knows how to get the crowd hyped,
during the show,
I kept seeing someone in the front row,
try to hand Jaden a painting,
a painting of himself,
after the show,
I was thrown Jaden’s yellow bandana,
then I exited outside,
and away from the arena,
when I got to the exit,
I saw the kid with the painting,
it had Jaden and Willow’s signature,
and as I said before I collect paintings,
so I bought it right then and there,
blame synchronicities,
so it’s not so much I seek out art,
as art comes to me,
all part of the vision,
of starting the Art Center in New Zealand,
where we can feel safe and socialize,
and remember what it was like when we still had feelings,
and all that I see now,
in this painting I have,
of Jaden Smith,
dressed as Batman,
bought a painting of Jaden Smith,
now wait before you diss,
give me a second to explain,
there’s a story that goes along with it…
∆ LaLux ∆
The new book is 100% FREE here: www.scribd.com/document/388173677
Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 6:30 PM UTC
Hey Mr Tui Bird where do you go?
I wish I was like you.
Able to fly away across a sky so blue.
Maybe then she'd smile at me too.
The way she smiles at you.
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 6:02 PM UTC
Shook Drake’s hand,
after we touched down in New Zealand,
put my hand on my poetry book like it was the Bible,
and said “Welcome to New Zealand”,
he said “Hey Thanks,
man I really appreciate that fam.”,
gave his manager a copy of 777,
and his barber a copy of The Holy Trilogy,
see great minds think alike,
and we both have lines about enemies becoming energy,
almost wanted to ask him to put me on right there,
but my life is not decided my any other man’s course,
I’m on my own journey I’m not a groupie,
I’m on my own path I ride my own horse,
still though that interaction gave me more respect for him,
and like I told his stylist nothing is a coincidence,
and if anything Drake and Lux meeting there,
was a reaffirmation of what my vision is,
the opening of an art center,
in a place I’d like to call home,
where we’re open 24 hours,
and the mic is always on,
to this I must stay focused,
and not get too distracted,
because the arts has given me so much,
that it’s only fair I give back a bit,
and like I said I don’t believe anything is a coincidence,
all is divine nothing is random,
I am aligned in tuned to the patterns,
I life That Life and don’t know how it happened,
but I’m gonna keep writing like Drake’s gonna keep rapping,
which maybe has something to do with,
why we found each other walking through that door,
on Halloween none the less,
the last day of October,
October’s Very Own,
with this Night Owl out at sunrise,
passing through Immigration with Drake,
life is such a surprise,
he touched the carved wood entry way,
at the airport in Auckland,
I wanted to stay but I had another flight to catch,
en route to Sydney,
sometimes this life moves so fast I get dizzy,
Drizzy,
so surreal he was in how big he’s become,
kept his crew,
flies ***** with all his Day One’s,
that’s loyalty,
get your crew and move up with them,
don’t do as Judas did,
even if the weather gets rough don’t betray them,
these guys live for you,
and they’d **** for you,
walking with a living legend,
living in a fantasy that’s true,
a modern day Fairy Tale,
except there are no fairies,
goblins and ghouls yeah,
and this Fairy Tale can seem scary,
but don’t worry we’ve got this,
and if you need some reassurance,
come find me and ask me,
and I will gladly grant you some guidance,
see it seems I’ve found a bit of fame,
but in the process I lost my mind,
and I’m not the only one see I’ve got some company,
because that boy Drake is on my flight,
and it’s October 30th 2017,
sometime in the middle of the night,
which is appropriate given the circumstance,
that we’re both Libras and it’s October’s last night,
and we all wear masks sometimes,
outside like it’s Halloween,
maybe that’s why I only feel normal one day of the year,
maybe that’s why I give everything all of me,
October’s Very Own,
and yes If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late,
and yes it’s Comeback Season even though we never left,
nor will we leave but either way Sorry For The Wait,
God Man,
we are God Men,
and if you want to know how and why,
you can read my volumes,
written 8 books,
last one was entitled 777,
with the 6 God,
high Fivin’,
listening to 4:44 for real,
a living holy trinity Jay Drake & Lux that’s 3,
but I wrote this only to you,
in the name of One Love Yours Truly,
dedicated to the truth,
truth,
shook Drake’s hand,
after we touched down in New Zealand,
put my hand on my poetry book like it was the Bible,
and said “Welcome to New Zealand”…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
author of multiple bestselling poetry books.
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 1:32 AM UTC
American Refugee
Head feels like a ton of bricks,
trying to retrace my misstepped steps…
Where have I awoken?
What country am I in?
Who was that girl last night?
Why did I choose to go through it again?
When will I finally say enough is enough?
Enough is enough.
Why does the poison feel so good?
I love everything that hates me,
alcohol and cigarettes,
promiscuous girls date me,
but only for a night…
A night was had,
dancing music,
flirting new friends,
we were all in it together,
a glorious moment,
with people from all over the world,
we were on top of the world,
surfing on a rocket,
on Cloud Nine with some fine felines,
bumping beats with a pocket full of sunshine,
flashy lights and flashy ladies,
drinks on me,
literally,
drinks on me,
I felt like we all felt,
so together,
so how’d I end up,
so all alone,
nursing a hangover,
with poached eggs and mochaccinos,
served by a surprisingly cute waitress,
at a cafe somewhere in New Zealand…
Head feels like a ton of bricks,
trying to retrace my steps…
I came here,
to this country,
to escape Hollywood,
where I was trapped in it’s trapping trappings,
trapped in it’s clubs,
trapped in it’s women,
trapped in it’s drugs,
trapped in it’s cliches,
so why is it,
I found myself,
on the other side of the world,
at club with some women on drugs trapped in this same cliche?
Same Sh!t,
different country,
I guess you can take the boy outta Hollywood,
but you can’t take the Hollywood outta the boy…
I am the world’s first American Refugee,
except I didn’t come on a boat,
in ragged clothes clinging to my body,
and ragged hopes clinging to my psyche,
I came,
on an airplane,
in a first class seat,
dining on the offerings of a corporate worldwide empire,
but it is not the means of movement,
it is the intention behind the actions that matters,
and I came,
with the intention to create a healthier life,
a cleaner life,
a better future for myself and all those I love.
I am an American Refugee,
I am an American Refugee,
fleeing the subconscious oppressions of my country,
fleeing the persecution of all things I held holy and sacred,
I am tired of witnessing the spiritual ****** of my falling comrades,
I am a American Refugee,
more specifically,
a Hollywood Refugee,
fleeing the bright lights and large egos,
searching for solace and refuge,
amongst the towering rainforest trees of New Zealand,
I fled the toxic water the toxic air and the toxic people,
to drink fresh water breathe clean are and befriend friendly people,
so why,
why,
why would I subject myself,
to the same oppressions that I’ve attempted to flee from?
Justin Bieber echoed across the dance floor,
“Is it to late to say I’m sorry now?
Yeah I know that I let you down,
is it too late to say I’m sorry now?”
“I’m sorry.”,
“Sorry.”,
“Sorry.”,
“Yeah I know that I let you down,
is it too late to say I’m sorry now?”,
and as cheesy and cliche as it sounds,
I get the chills because I knew exactly what he was saying,
and I wondered if anyone else in that club was an American Refugee,
I wondered if anyone else in that club knew what Justin Bieber was saying,
or if they were just dancing because of the beat,
and they were just singing along because that’s what they think they’re supposed to do,
because most people have to be told what’s cool,
then force fed that coolness until they have too many pairs of shoes,
no amount of shoes will ever bring you real happiness,
and I honestly apologize,
we Hollywoodians were put in a position to lead the free world,
and everyone listened to us,
you all listened to us,
you gave us your ears and your hearts,
your souls and your minds,
and all we gave you were improbable dreams,
and glorious visions,
of an unsustainable lifestyle that you go broke trying to duplicate,
when will you realize you can chase,
but you can never catch something that doesn’t really exist?
And I’m sorry,
but I give up,
I’m done,
because,
“Yeah I know once more I’ve let you down,
is it too late to say I’m sorry now?”.
I’m sick and tired so I’m retiring,
I’m retreating to build a retreat,
somewhere in New Zealand,
where I can be free again,
and I’ve finally made it here,
but it seems mentally I’m not prepared,
because I’m still going to clubs with a bunch of girls,
then getting used up foolishly because I foolishly thought they cared,
who cares?
I don’t want the weight of the world on my shoulders anymore,
I don’t need all eyes on me,
I just want to get rid of all my wants,
so that I can finally be freed and have all that I need,
you must get rid of your wants,
so you can do what you like,
and I do feel a little bit relieved to finally be in New Zealand,
but honestly the weight of the world is still on my shoulders,
I still can’t shake this feeling,
that I’m just going through the routine,
as I write these words on this laptop,
and fuel my words with free range eggs and caffeine,
up on this mountain all alone,
even though I’m at a crowded cafe,
and it feels like sunrise,
even though it’s already mid-day,
my head feels like a ton of bricks,
trying to retrace my misstepped steps…
∆ Aaron La Lux ∆
author of
The Poetry Trilogy
The Holy Trilogy
The HH Trilogy
Dec 31, 2016
Dec 31, 2016 at 2:18 AM UTC
To all the Christmases behind me
I remember how you used to be
Sitting around the Christmas tree
Listening to stories of wise men three
Of all the Christmases gone by
I remember crystal skys
And sparkling grape juice in the ice
The pungent smells of Christmas wine
For all the Christmases I've seen
I recall the Christmas dream
Of gifts and sweets beneath the tree
And stuffed stockings waiting for me
And all the Christmases I've reached
I feel the sand beneath my feet
All those games down at the beach
And tossing bread out to the sheep
And all the Christmases end
By decorating ginger bread
And laying down our heavy heads
On feather pillows on our beds
Dec 27, 2016
Dec 27, 2016 at 5:37 AM UTC
Budapest
It’s an odd hour in Budapest,
that time when one finds themselves all alone,
passing vagrants who rummage through the trash,
searching for scraps of whatever and possibly some salvation,
I’d been drinking,
which I guess is good and bad,
coming fresh off of a philosophical conversation,
with an ideological Kiwi,
I couldn’t crush her ideological exuberance,
with my aged cynicism,
even if I’d wanted to,
because I respected her passionate optimism too much,
or not enough,
either way,
I was as alone now,
as I was before I met her,
except I felt lonelier,
because we all feel lonelier,
after having had the company of a friend,
or a stranger,
whatever,
it doesn’t matter now,
I’m several drinks in,
and I’m back at my rooftop apartment,
across from The Dohany Street Synagogue,
retreating into my writing which is where I find myself now,
at this odd hour in Budapest,
that time when one finds themselves all alone,
passing vagrants who rummage through the trash,
searching for scraps of whatever and possibly some salvation…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
author of The Poetry Trilogy
author of The H Trilogy
∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆
∆ ∆ ∆
∆
Jul 28, 2016
Jul 28, 2016 at 5:31 PM UTC
Now the coast has lined up
they are in coherent,
splashing the same waves
and washing on the same bed
You are still there, watching them
engaging with the moon
nothing much have changed
but yet, everything did
My hair grew inches, with fervent curls
wrinkles on my face, surfacing
my heart, like your sweater - more worn
resembling that girl you loved,
that summer
You must have slightly aged too,
the face I grown distanced to
As we lay our bodies
beneath our knees,
we see those stretch marks across
you were still perfect
We hear the crashing,
it has come for us.
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 6:17 AM UTC
New Zealand's National Animal is the Unicorn
My National Animal is the one you like the most.
A party that forgot to hire a host
Trying too hard is what i do most.
It's okay, my veins are still in tact.
As long as you're okay, in matter of fact.
Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 8:41 PM UTC
Take it
All of it
Like dogs to a bone
Tear me to pieces
Leave nothing behind
Keep it all to yourself
And fight for the scraps
Of what's left of me
Cut deep
Slice me open
Drain out life
From my open wounds
Try and capture it
Bottled fragments of my being
Ignore the screaming
I'll be silent soon enough
Severe me
From mine
Till every limb's detached
And you can have one each
And maybe then be satisfied
Having finally destroyed
My form for your own pleasure
Not enough
You will find
The taste of me will linger
But what you have wont last
Long enough to sustain the hunger
You'll need more
Soon enough
So leave behind my bones
And take to the skies
In search of another weary soul
Circle wide and be patient
As their knees give in you will witness
Their spirit escape them too
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 4:42 AM UTC
I don't see why we can't replace bombs with confetti.
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 12:24 AM UTC
I have a right to stand
I'm claiming it now.
Turangawaewae; 'a place to stand'
Is a deep empowerment from the land
Learnt through ancestral connection
Strengthened through ahi ka; 'keeping the fires burning'
Well, my ancestral stories ain't so impressive
There were few battles
Though my granddad worked for the air force in world war two
- As an accountant
We didn't encounter the gods or try to bring down the sun
Though when my Grandma arrived here she built up the soil
Soul of the Earth
For 70 years
As the city sprang up around her
And my mother aged 11 played follow the leader with a goat in the next door construction site
Where her house is now
My uncle found an old mans false teeth in a cup
Climbing through an abandoned house
My aunt visited James K Baxter's Jerusalem
She wasn't a fan of his poetry
But his wisdom spoke to her
My other aunts jumped through the neighbours trees
Who threatened to shoot them
My father followed my mother here
After her O.E with my sister in the oven
He ******* about John Key as much as anyone
And praises this land; it is home.
I stood on a windy cliff surrounded by pohutukawa and learnt the whisper of the sea
Roughing it on an island I tried determinedly to turn into a pukeko
I got my first cut, bruise, scrape from this land
My first breath, poem, touch of a violin, my first kiss was here
I know the rough patches, the fringe scene, where the best soil is
(It's at my grams house)
I know how to spot a drug house, which cafes will let us jam, where the open mics are 5 days of the week.
I know Kirikiriroa.
My fires have been burning
And I have a right to stand
I have learnt through my own evolution
Through Janet Frame's railroad country
Through a history
Cities growing and spreading
They weren't just here
As it has always seemed to me.
The countryside, what was here before?
Landscapes of forest and mountain
Familiar yet unknown to me.
When I go away I will know the difference
When I return I will know this land
The depth recognized through contrast
Defined by difference
As the sun and moon complement
Light and dark
Sorrow and joy
And,
As in yin and yang
I will know nothing is completely separate.
When I go away I will know
So fully
And I will return and say:
This is my place to stand
My turangawaewae
My Aotearoa
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 7:24 PM UTC
Hurry now, it’s leaving soon
Car door slams, gravel underfoot
And from the boot
Grandmas lil helper is lifted
Oh! Where did it go?
Wind twists scarf to snake
Released from frames captivity
I stoop and tug
Under your foot, Gran
She shuffles,
Ties it firmly around tiny shoulders
Bright colour against delicate skin
Paper thin, both,
One for beauty, one to hold the blood in
And may it hold the blood in,
Just a little longer...
The train awaits,
Monstrous,
Steele stark against surrounding bush.
Matt has a sausage,
Mum bothers about tickets,
Both fuss and fizzle,
I press lips firmly together
Deciding then and there
Never to let entertainment turn to stress;
It’s more than it’s worth.
We’re to be in the engine room,
The rest will be left behind -
As something faulty.
Matt lifts Gran up;
She’s tiny,
She’s flying,
She’s in.
And then we’re all in.
Crammed.
We stare longingly through grimy glass
At empty carriages
Can’t we be in there? It’s all a bit stuffy.
There’s a fire along the track
But we don’t go any further.
The smoke streams out over forest.
And jerking and bumping,
Dipping along,
We reverse back to whence we started.
Petrol fumes and smoke fill our tiny cocoon
Here, let me help you
Passenger to passenger,
Fellow human,
Compassionate eyes.
Gran has a seat;
She sways while we lurch.
Deep within
Railroad country
I make believe
I know something
Of the girl
Of the Plannies;
That sacred connection
To land and sky,
To Native country,
To Golden Macrocarpa
I stare over hills of tree ferns,
Kawakawa, Wheki, Punga
And, knowing no other,
I feel this land
Majestically
My own.
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 9:47 PM UTC