"coughin" poems
Start with the breath,
Shaky lately, it changed with the stains a painting formed on my chest came leaking, sneaking black bubbling death
It foamed up towards the roof of my vest,
Cough is hoarse excuse me my poorly conveying the truth I confess that maybe I've trained my brain to ignore the distress culminating the gruesome express
Eyesight now, and my Eye's feel numb
Two flocks fly in the light of the sun, side by side in a sign like a gun that stops my stride in time with the young, I wonder why and who had time to train these geese to write ******* W's alright, soon it fades from mind a two days wait until it's time to light up the night blunt try somma my cut the line trust is high up sigh at thoughts thought in my mind fuzz fought climb up bought thine scuffle what ******* geese fly in V's I'm blind cuz.
Minds in circles my muscles in decay my brain can't keep track of the ******* days
I'd buy the parcel from hovels of dismay trade for ants to keep mortality at bay
I'm afraid I wished for death too often, it waits till I'm content to grant it's bubbles while I'm coughin.
Nov 13, 2020
Nov 13, 2020 at 7:58 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
Expensive habits and defensive addicts are what engineers the user rabid,
Rapid heartbeat, zoning in and out.
Foaming at the mouth, clinging to my seat.
Shoot the family, hang the kids, frame the wife,
Any way you look at it there's always a darker side.
Are we talking lights and camera flashes or skull fractures and lacerations?
Most of my time's spent pondering once I hit the pavement,
Taste the blood. Touch the Earth. Hear the sky.
Taunt a love. Fail the search.
Lose your mind.
Face flushed, I pant and sigh, the steam just teasing my numbing sight.
Tease and tickle and ripple, slide,
The droplets slide along my skin that weeps, 'Too tight!'
Rip it off me, rip it wide,
One more line, one more line, and my chest is locking up while my teeth chatter and bite.
All I ever want is all the pleasure-
Probably the problem.
I don't want you all alive when they set down my coffin,
Coughin' up bits and pieces of blood and flesh-
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 12:37 AM UTC
This isn’t profound, really it's profanity.
I’m far from crazy but on the brink of insanity.
I can’t think straight, sometimes, but I can never stop till he stops calling for me.
All of my addictions, yeah they really caught up to me.
Coughin' out what’s written like the words come from God or something.
I don’t know though, really I am lost.
Like in the jungle of my thoughts and the trees keep branching out
and the growth will never stop.
The greenery is beautiful; when it rains it pours.
When it stops raining I start begging him for more,
until I realize the rain is what I need to enjoy the scene.
The seasons are essential in order to dream.
Feb 21, 2019
Feb 21, 2019 at 6:37 PM UTC
exit coma and earnestly yours
all ears but no tongue to tell me yr boiler still won't work
patience is not a telescope i can see myself through
passed out on the floor of a concert hall, 3 broken bones n i'm coughin cherry wine
tylenol headaches make wine taste bettr
i am real. i do not feel safe.
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 5:37 AM UTC
I tell the chick my deposits
Finished school I might be headed off to college
Hope I don't die soon to lay in my coffin
Smoking so much **** just got my lungs coughin
I'm zoned, and I'm gone
Even tho this **** is wrong
I'm still hitting out of the **** and getting high all night long
I'm smoking with my peps like you never thought I would
Cops bust the party but we still toking its all good
Living life without fear
Came from blue wearing voks at lainer
But it ***** and that's why you know why I don't wanna go back
Failed 2 years there and now I'm passing can you believe that
Cause in class I be maintaining
The work and they say I'm doing amazing
But there's still problems, and troubles
Just living life through the ******** and the struggle
But I can't complain, it will be there just like my chores
Stuck in my mind with no exit doors
But I try and I do good
But a black man to the world is misunderstood.
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 7:41 PM UTC
My knees buckled.
From what I remember, I tasted gravel and blood on ma bottom lip.
My eye seen dim, swollen shut wit a touch of blue-ish black-ish.
“I says—now I says get up off the ****** ground, you ******
Still ma knees were down, deep into da’ dirt—rocks n’ pebbles prints engraved onto ma flesh.
I tries to stand, but that ole hearty bullwhip beat me to it,
And this time I was chest down.
My coughin’ of da blood only made him mo’ wicked n happy.
I’d be ****** if he slashed me once mo'.
I swore I’d be ******
With one turn on ma back, every pebble, rock, soot sunk into ma gashes.
Blood n dirt don’t mix.
I swore I seen the pasty devil as I gazed wit only one good eye.
“You’s best get up foe I kills you wit no mercy!”
**** me,” I said, **** me, I’d be dammed.”
That ole pasty devil raised that bullwhip,
Right befoe he came down on me, I done grabbed his wrist wit all ma might.
Pasty devil was mo’ pasty than ever.
I stood wit what strength I had an pushed ole man back on his back.
Fumbled in dat gravel.
The bullwhip had done rolled out his hand.
“I swears to you—nigger—u grab dat bullwhip its ya life!”
I grabbed dat bullwhip and done gave him gashes dat looked like mine.
Stumblin’ wit a burnin back,
I beat him good.
“Take ma life. I’d be dammed.”
Sep 8, 2017
Sep 8, 2017 at 3:48 PM UTC
Thought I could drink away all my sorrows in one night/
I thought I could forget about the frontier of that fight/
I got caught up with all this that that small mistake,
took over my life/ Wish i never screamed at johnny my
only son/ Wish that I could have told him "live life kid, have fun"/
But only thing i told him was "GO AWAY YOU STUPID ****
And seconds later heard my revolver get clutched/ I ran to the
room n then before i could stop it i heard the gun bust/ It was the
end of my only son johnny/ I was stuck, my mindstate was on replay n
my heart started to decay/ i started screaming n' swinging, man i was in a rut/ **** I grabbed the gun cocked it back n let the bullet run/ I felt the bullet pierce my sternum, n my body became numb/ I stumbled onto the bed n I started to bleed out, I started coughin up blood n then I started seein clouds/ I saw different things n those things I did not expect, I saw my boy Johnny n he said "dad you've failed the test"/ n then I said "Johnny what the **** why'd you **** yourself??!"/ then he hesitated, looked at me n he had said " depression hits hard when you've got no one to help you out, especially when what you've wished to come your way has left you in doubts!!"/ "so please take it with a grain of salt n learn to live like it's your last"/ lookin at the way my body was it just made me laugh, cuz I hadn't even peeped that that bullet practically hit your ******* chest/ so please take a listen n please give me a smile, cuz loving what you've lost is like hating what you could never bring.............
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 11:40 AM UTC
I'm try to talk to you, or rap to you, or say something that will last with you or stick with you, and maybe imma be that rapper that get to you. Written truths in a booth are rare, tryn find themselves at the top until they realize its just rainy clouds and colder air. All of em animals, cannibals, eatin children, rechannel em till theres nothing left, cant handle em. look, I'll be honest I ***** from waking up cause I'm nauseous coughin up ranchy *** popper rocks in the sink on the hook.
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 11:27 AM UTC