#sf
If you like SF
My short stories book is free
Through 11/30
Nov 27, 2021
Nov 27, 2021 at 3:07 AM UTC
I dreamt recently
that a girl fell from the top of
a skyscraper so tall
by the time she collided with
the concrete below,
they had already told her
she would not make it.
I wonder if they had spoken
with soft, mellow voices,
or if they had given it to her
matter-of-fact. I wonder
what the firing synapses of
her brain looked like the fraction of
a millisecond before impact.
I wonder if she had time to
go through all the stages of grief.
And maybe that’s why I
could take a jackhammer
to the despicable skyline,
the ugly glass prison in
that new, hip neighborhood
They™ are calling “Van Mission.”
Everything reminds me
we have terra cotta bodies.
Everything reminds me
my bones are not bird bones.
In some years, if I die falling off a higher-rise,
know that I fired through denial,
then just anger, anger, anger,
all the way down.
Mar 8, 2020
Mar 8, 2020 at 2:37 PM UTC
It is our turn now;
Tickets spit through machines
Marked for passage.
Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 10:21 AM UTC
Fire hair flying all around in the cool San Francisco breeze-
Soft skin hidden under layers but still showing your curves so delicately-
Glimmering white teeth and glacier blue eyes; both smiling as though they had a secret-
"Do you remember San Francisco?" He said as she grabbed her coat and headed towards the door.
Aug 24, 2017
Aug 24, 2017 at 1:20 PM UTC
The Fillmore
It’s cold these days,
just ask a stranger,
saw a show tonight at The Fillmore,
Dave Chapelle with John Mayer,
Dave mentioned the show,
when I saw him at The SF MOMA,
John signed my Frieda poetry book,
that I got today from The SF MOMA,
how am I so in the In Scene,
yet at the same time such a Goner,
come on we’re,
trying to make Greatness,
so there’s no time for the Procrastinators,
and all of their lateness,
got Volume 2,
of The HH Trilogy,
coming soon,
5/5/17,
thought I’d put you on notice,
I’ve noticed,
they’ve noticed me,
more than they used to,
before The Trilogies,
came back to America,
from a few months in Australia,
now I find when I go out,
people recognize me,
not sure when it happened,
when my works became bigger than me,
all I know is it happened,
now people approach me like they know me,
“Haven’t I seen you before?”,
that’s a common one,
I guess I’m somewhere between,
Famous as Fck,
and quasi-obsolete,
I’ll probably be,
gone but not forgotten,
pardon me,
I’m lost it happens often,
caught up in the moment,
high off life and coughin’,
in the light trying to focus,
off my head and on one,
God ****
God blessed,
on with the show,
and off with his head,
and that’s cold,
cold as a guillotine’s steel,
cold as Chicago in the winter,
when it’s 20˚ below before the wind chill,
for real,
it’s cold these days,
just ask a stranger,
saw a show tonight at The Fillmore,
Dave Chapelle with John Mayer,
Dave mentioned the show,
when I saw him at The SF MOMA,
John signed my Frieda poetry book,
that I got today from The SF MOMA,
how am I so in the In Scene,
yet at the same time such a Goner,
come on we’re,
trying to make Greatness,
so there’s no time for the Procrastinators,
and all of their lateness,
got Volume 2,
of The HH Trilogy,
coming soon,
5/5/17…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
author of multiple best selling poetry books and publisher of more poems than any other living poet.
∆
Jul 30, 2017
Jul 30, 2017 at 11:13 PM UTC
Wanna Feel
In The Berkeley Hills,
with some different girls,
different Hills different girls,
and different guys as well,
oh well,
different girls,
different guys,
where,
was,
I…
I go out now,
and recognize that I’m recognized,
the written word’s done wonders for me,
thankful without question I don’t need to know why,
have no questions for you,
other than are you ready to ride,
high,
up in the Hills,
of Berkeley reaffirming,
anything that’s real,
wanna feel,
anything that’s real,
don’t tell me that’s cliche,
because I know you feel the same way,
and I told you before I’m trying to stop rhyming,
but then I go and just keep rhyming anyways,
anyways,
where were we,
we were,
are rather are,
in The Berkeley Hills,
with some different girls,
different Hills different girls,
and different guys as well,
oh well,
different girls,
different guys,
where,
was,
I…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
4/17
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 9:01 PM UTC
From my three-story apartment window I hear the 2am bar fights,
The sirens of the city race by...
I hear the breaking glass from another wandering soul
and the couples that hate each other then make love in the dark alley below me...
I feel the breeze blended with artists dreams pass by,
I lay in this Cal. king drowning in pillows,
Staring at these 1930 off-white walls that have been molested by so many forgotten visitors,
I lay here and I know why I lay alone...
I'm so consumed by the life outside my window that I do not notice when a life walks out my door.
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 2:03 AM UTC
I know somewhere to go,
through time and space
where everything
goes
away
i know this place.
a place where all
my thoughts and feelings
combine,
i know this place
because
this place
is mine.
Mar 9, 2017
Mar 9, 2017 at 4:45 PM UTC
new spit, the hollow mind
every damaged button glaring on the
face you wear, you sew-
I don't know how to just yet.
some curses you wear
they roll over with you in your sleep
at night I sing in whispers
we face each other, I tear you down
I said I thought you were sleeping
but assassins never lie awake with their eyes closed
or hurt in their underwear
I am awake. I never sleep again.
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 2:26 AM UTC
Together, each day, in San Francisco on Christmas at the wharf, following our envisioned dream,
Youthful and childlike, the dock of boats and the ocean shore, standing in front of the Christmas tree,
That day, the day I first saw you, where you got sick and they let you off, sitting only a row behind, just over to the side,
At the meeting place, on the field trip watching you at the dusty Mission from a short distance, I felt something changing inside,
Together, at the piano in the square, playing our song "The Busride," our busride we share, that fateful day,
Every night, our whimsical moments together, in the ivory golden light of the moon, both asleep and at play,
The sidewalk, she runs toward me with her backpack, giggling she tries to smack me with it, then I remember,
You running towards me, clutching your lunch pail trying to land a friendly blow, three innocent lovers, September,
She's always been like a sister to me, and you, playful and boyish, like a total opposite, such unique treasures,
Breaths taken like the sea, onward like this music of hours, magical notes washing up on the shore in even measures,
Together, wishing and dreaming a dream so true, the petals I pick, the field of endless flowers,
I'm still on that bus, tomorrow, now and for all time, for the rest of my life, every moment, this eternal bus ride of ours,
Rain falling on and on to impart,
bringing the flowers a cordial of life,
With her laughter echoing afar.
That day-our busride, together...
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 8:10 PM UTC
Fueled by doubt
Failure by oneself
Two rings
Hall of famers
We don't need trainers
We win from within
One strike,two strikes,and he's out!
That's what SF is all about!
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 10:40 PM UTC
I had a three hour layover so I ordered a bartender's handshake
She smiled at me and said "welcome home"
I smiled at her mistake and
told her I was only a visitor
She placed two glasses down and poured the fernet and ginger
The strong solvant dissolved the feeling of being alone
She poured another at half price
For the next three hours
I sipped the heart out of a perfect San Francisco night
Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 7:50 AM UTC
As the waves crash the spray glows along the ridges.
In a cloudless sky, a kite plays around the sun
in a breeze that can hardly be felt,
as if in slow motion--as if it's growing tired--
just like everything else.
On the beach wall sit wanderers and travelers,
couples and lovers, the happy and the sad,
all come to witness and share
in the end of another Saturday--
a surprisingly warm and clear
December Saturday--and no doubt
Saturn is smiling from his throne.
The birds, the gulls, they sense the transition,
just as aware of the daily phenomenon as we are,
perhaps filled with just as much wonder and beauty as we are,
because birds look better in the setting sun,
just like everything else.
As the sun descends slowly toward the horizon,
as the horizon slowly engulfs the sun,
I look wearily into a new year,
one filled with great hope and great despair.
There's no doubt this country will be struggling greatly.
The question is whether we'll weather it,
like usual.
As I stare at the sun it consumes my vision.
A flaming ball descending into the sea;
the dark negative trails burn into my retina & glide
upward like smoke into the chromatic sky.
The horizon distorts its apparently perfect circle,
appearing like a melting pad of butter;
a mushroom cloud of an atomic bomb.
It accelerates toward night as it approaches the horizon.
Its rounded top distorts into edges,
now looking like a house.
And as it douses itself in the sea like a hot iron sword,
it becomes but a twinkling strand of golden beads
on the surface of the waves,
finally disappearing,
leaving only a distinct glow in the sky
where once,
it was.
The wanderers and couples
shake out of their giddy trances & move
into the chilly San Francisco evening,
and I do the same,
wondering whether my final sunset
will be as calm
and beautiful
as this
one.
Jul 30, 2010
Jul 30, 2010 at 5:50 PM UTC
What do you want me to do about it? You're acting like, like we can't
do anything about this, Nandu. Like you're, I mean you're acting like,
this is my fault, here. What was I supposed to do? I mean, I had no way
of knowing, man. Oh **** might have to shok this guy who's ****** little
kids -- wait a sec, better not say anything about ReFresh water! I mean, what the ****
I am blaming you because that was the worst joke I've heard.
In how long, ever?
In a long time.
Look, I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. But this is not my fault. We should fight this.
They're doing what they're doing. If you do something like this again, I'm firing you.
You're not gonna fire me.
How do you know that?
You're not gonna fire me because, people make mistakes. And you know that.
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 4:26 AM UTC