#westcoast
Sunset Boulevard
You drove that street like you drove me wild
You looked at me and said baby
Whatever happens, we'll always have it
The West Coast love others only imagine
Newport, we crashed your car
Scar on my knee, forever in my heart
You looked at me, I said baby
Whatever happens, we'll always have it
A love that’s never ending like LA traffic
Apr 15, 2020
Apr 15, 2020 at 9:08 AM UTC
the AskIt's have no answer
nor do the heads of the snake
of the state-scene.
they pretended they did the
same way way back
in 1918.
Apr 3, 2020
Apr 3, 2020 at 2:34 AM UTC
mom, you raised a girl who is not afraid to die, a girl that still thinks she can climb every mountain, just because you let her climb the fridge, the cabinets and the roof of her house.
you raised a girl on the road
in van traveling up the west coast with a man who longed to be free
to not wear shoes and not be bothered by the wind
brushing the rest of populace's feet
Mom you let your child run free with the dogs. Let her think she, too had four legs and could love someone as unconditionally as they do.
May 20, 2019
May 20, 2019 at 2:14 PM UTC
I saw the red and blue sparkle of crime.
I felt my lungs overflow.
Spilling,
words,
blood of too-much,
thoughts of too full.
Tears constructed of *****
Bleeding
cold,
freely,
dragging out the strength to emerge from admittance -
to find comfort
in a home built for destruction.
As the blood boiled over, spilling from my mouth,
spattering murmurs of naive hope before drowning out the cities’ cries,
I clawed through a sea of red,
light falling through fingers -
I let go.
Years of blue striped tablets
comfort in the church parking lot
bites you for getting to close.
Idolizing a sadness of sick children,
crusading on acid
Nicotine, aspiration,
the tongues of others -
who find a place in a world of unrequited love for existence.
This blur is the final fracture of bones worn thin from chosen malnutrition,
malnourishment of the skin.
Pigment.
So the reaper knocks on the back of your skull,
not to punish you
Not for
subjection to chemical poison,
but to remind you:
dreaming of her body on yours is cyanide.
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 1:51 PM UTC
It took,
one of the most beautiful sunsets,
I’ve ever seen in my life,
to get me to write again,
I’ve been taking a sabbatical from personal periodicals,
not that it was premeditated,
it was or rather is,
that I hadn’t felt motivated,
still don’t really feel inspired,
even after such a beautiful sunset,
which I watched from seat 1A,
in the front row of an aircraft,
another First Class flight,
this one shorter than most,
SFO to LAX,
been around the world but still I rep Westcoast,
the girl next to me missed the whole thing,
she was and is still fast asleep,
but the guy across from me saw it,
probably the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen,
see he’s a Navy Seal,
so I guess I don’t really know,
the Lord and He,
are the only ones that know what he’s seen,
at any rate the sunset was beautiful,
like I said one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen,
missed the first half because my view was blocked,
by a gay couple and their cell phone screens,
jeez,
can’t we ever just have a moment with Beauty,
without having to feel like we have to capture it,
why is it the first thing most people think when they see something beautifull,
is “Oh yeah I should take a picture of this!”,
and then their interest usually only last,
as long as it takes to take that photo,
then they go back to doing whatever they were doing,
before they were interrupted with something so beautiful,
but I’ll take a Beautiful Interruption before a Mundane Day any day,
I’ve always been one for the inspiration that comes with impromptu moments,
I’ve learned to Love unconditionally Beauty in the instantaneous moments Beauty exists,
I’ve learned to be able to appreciate something without having to have the urge to own it,
lost a lat of Love before I learned that lesson,
but better late than never,
so now I write these memoirs,
to help us all act better,
because there’s always room to improve,
and that’s whey I stretch out in my yoga practice,
take moments to meditate and put it all in perspective,
because that’s the only way to stay balanced in a world off it’s axis,
see the US government shutdown today,
January 20th 2018,
and here I am on plane flying 1st class,
from San Francisco to Los Angeles,
and even though,
it’s only an hour long flight,
it was day when we took off,
and now we’re about to land and it’s night,
amazing how much can change in an hour,
sometimes an hour can change a whole life,
and I’m reminded of all of this on this airplane,
as I gaze amazed at an amazing site,
that of one of,
the most beautiful sunsets I’ve ever seen in my life,
it took,
one of the most beautiful sunsets,
I’ve ever seen in my life,
to get me to write again,
I’ve been taking a sabbatical from personal periodicals,
not that it was premeditated,
it was or rather is,
that I hadn’t felt motivated,
still don’t really feel inspired,
even after such a beautiful sunset,
which I watched from seat 1A,
in the front row of an aircraft,
another First Class flight,
this one shorter than most,
SFO to LAX,
been around the world but still I rep Westcoast…
∆ LaLux ∆
New Book Available FREE Worldwide Here: www.scribd.com/document/367036005
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 10:28 PM UTC
It took,
one of the most beautiful sunsets,
I’ve ever seen in my life,
to get me to write again,
I’ve been taking a sabbatical from personal periodicals,
not that it was premeditated,
it was or rather is,
that I hadn’t felt motivated,
still don’t really feel inspired,
even after such a beautiful sunset,
which I watched from seat 1A,
in the front row of an aircraft,
another First Class flight,
this one shorter than most,
SFO to LAX,
been around the world but still I rep Westcoast,
the girl next to me missed the whole thing,
she was and is still fast asleep,
but the guy across from me saw it,
probably the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen,
see he’s a Navy Seal,
so I guess I don’t really know,
the Lord and He,
are the only ones that know what he’s seen,
at any rate the sunset was beautiful,
like I said one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen,
missed the first half because my view was blocked,
by a gay couple and their cell phone screens,
jeez,
can’t we ever just have a moment with Beauty,
without having to feel like we have to capture it,
why is it the first thing most people think when they see something beautifull,
is “Oh yeah I should take a picture of this!”,
and then their interest usually only last,
as long as it takes to take that photo,
then they go back to doing whatever they were doing,
before they were interrupted with something so beautiful,
but I’ll take a Beautiful Interruption before a Mundane Day any day,
I’ve always been one for the inspiration that comes with impromptu moments,
I’ve learned to Love unconditionally Beauty in the instantaneous moments Beauty exists,
I’ve learned to be able to appreciate something without having to have the urge to own it,
lost a lat of Love before I learned that lesson,
but better late than never,
so now I write these memoirs,
to help us all act better,
because there’s always room to improve,
and that’s whey I stretch out in my yoga practice,
take moments to meditate and put it all in perspective,
because that’s the only way to stay balanced in a world off it’s axis,
see the US government shutdown today,
January 20th 2018,
and here I am on plane flying 1st class,
from San Francisco to Los Angeles,
and even though,
it’s only an hour long flight,
it was day when we took off,
and now we’re about to land and it’s night,
amazing how much can change in an hour,
sometimes an hour can change a whole life,
and I’m reminded of all of this on this airplane,
as I gaze amazed at an amazing site,
that of one of,
the most beautiful sunsets I’ve ever seen in my life,
it took,
one of the most beautiful sunsets,
I’ve ever seen in my life,
to get me to write again,
I’ve been taking a sabbatical from personal periodicals,
not that it was premeditated,
it was or rather is,
that I hadn’t felt motivated,
still don’t really feel inspired,
even after such a beautiful sunset,
which I watched from seat 1A,
in the front row of an aircraft,
another First Class flight,
this one shorter than most,
SFO to LAX,
been around the world but still I rep Westcoast…
∆ LaLux ∆
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 9:33 PM 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
Wonder which of my favourite kites I am?
(sonnet #MMMMMMCCLV)
Read antique sonnets, yet don't hear them, frail
As voicing David Grey oer coffee thence
Is, lost to western beaches' surf from hence
And which I almost listen to in pale
Excuse, while Illinois' blue skies detail
These moors and wasted prairies winds pass whence
I canna say oer, whispers in a sense
Where Or'gon's ist? tore up auld trees to scale.
Our houses wink to golden light as twere,
Whiles Andrew's feel the hurr'cane damage to
Effect. Suppose I don't know what I stir
In asking, he swears I shan't know 'til through
What ist? the ache's root we unearth in tour:
All. And I love each minute lost to you.
09Apr17a
Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 1:09 AM UTC
The end of spring is here
it's my favorite time of the year.
The ocean's as cold as my last lovers heart,
the sand feels the same - I suppose -
as any beach does.
The view is breathtaking
even watching it alone.
The sunset is so captivating,
a sight I had never known.
I take in all it is
and as no more
than to watch the sunset with you.
One day - at least,
one day real soon.
Aug 26, 2015
Aug 26, 2015 at 10:53 AM UTC
when I’m driving down the interstate
I always have the same debate
I feel like I’m stuck in a **** crate
I would like to go.
drive down to Denver Colorado.
I would like to see
the west coast beach
when I’m driving down these side roads
I only see these toads
I would like to feel
that west coast real
I would like to walk,
have a nice talk.
I would like to be
with those that are free.
I’m parked in a driveway
and it’s only one way.
it’s definitely not -
it’s definitely not what i thought.
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 9:28 AM UTC
Memory
is the birth of cool, it is rapture and ignominious spokesmanship unearthed. Packed into a slatted-wood crate, milking the obsession from cash-toting hands. Freeing itself from your bottom lip while life ticks itself away on a digital stock-exchange display. I am down and you are up, and you save pennies while I search for Chrysanthemums and vanilla-scented candles. Scent is my fifth grade spaceship,
I hide it in my pocket and take it into the forest when the week is over. Adventure is the part of our story that's caught in between complaining about money and having clean sheets. Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and Sunday my hands mend themselves back from bleach, their crevices cave under bright lights, I go to the garden strip and put dirt on my face, over my shoulders, and on my back. I make a altimeter from an alarm clock, and worry what will happen if your feet should ever touch the ground.
Relief
is a sarcophagus, the satiny silk chrysalis I weave into invincibility. I make myself a small child with a demon-proof lair, no one comes in, not even you. I see
how drugs take out your heart and put you anew, fresh: orange, pink, ultramarine. A wave is a soft gesture for twilight, a slow walk among the greying statue towers, bliss extracted from person to person tedium. How you exclaim about **** music as if your temple home was unfocused by jazz or synth-electro.
I forgot your room of quiet had no bells, no hope, and no notes of resolve. Tragedy was the desert of your six to sixteen, while I made an opus out of crystal glasses and Cran-Raspberry jars. Then it was the relief, Neptune's hands on your ******* red dots of ecstasy connecting you to a higher vibration. You felt it was time to start exercising. I didn't **** you for modifying your perception of color, degrading in a salt pool- I didn't own your ****** it was just a place I went into to write.
Three years later. I was growing backward, I was sixteen, making you the muse in my doorway, a James Bond goddess unraveling my fingers on her silky skin, except your golden crown was really a turban of snakes, and instead of silk I was groveling underneath you. That was the sweat that Ryan Shultz said I garbled up into two pedestal doves, I aimed by eyes straight at the city of gold, and then inside me shucked out every piece of self-respect and vitrified my spirit, castrating my lips and my tongue for something to come to or come at, he said I lived under pointed stars and that lying isn't a good way to get over past phases of silence.
A few days ago, it all game back to me, in a random series of songs on an iTunes playlist. One memory from an isolated beach outside a strawberry patch near Santa Cruz, a second, two hands cupped over the ears, my face closing in on her smoothed-out pink bottom lip on an over-exagerated car ride to the San Francisco airport, and the third was the mention of non-vegan banana cupcakes with cream cheese frosting, a birthday I celebrated several years earlier. All of them in the coda.
Verse four unbelievable. It caught me straying from the next stressor at hand. What's next? I move my cold hands from a keyboard versing strange relapse of mind, or I tear out another page, whip across town, and peel stamps onto a postcard to send.
They were all tails from a memory. A slowing ghost that cooed at me from far away, beating me up and down, pulling my eyes away from a scent I continually tried to remember.
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 3:40 PM UTC