"giza" poems
Hidden at the back of my mind
an idyllic vision
taking a trip
to span all continents.
Travel to Asia's Great Wall, Europe's Eiffel Tower
Africa's Giza Pyramid, America's Statue of Liberty.
Travel by Aladdin's magic carpet
spell-bound and comfortable, yet bewitched.
Travel for too long
for an endless trip, there it is
my destination.
A final full of dreams, a final to come true
a destination that fir altogether
a destination with that jigsaw.
I cry to reach for destination
I wait for long hours, saying myself
when I reach it - that will be it
this trip is for lasting happiness. But last destination lost
it's a dram, can't believe t'was a dream
a dream which outdistances me.
Next time, I promise
not to travel with that genie's carpet again
go to walk through path untrodden
go to climb Mt. Mayon, swim more to the Pacific deep
go bare footed in the Gobi
I promise, I promise
to live more my travel
the destination, the next stop
sooner in sight
than I expect it to be.
Jun 13, 2012
Jun 13, 2012 at 2:55 AM UTC
Drunken pirates sloshing along
a martini sea, looking for papers to roll some angelfish ****
Then on to Giza to gaze in amazement before we tackle
the Gates of Hell and raze it.
Swashbuckling demons we branded our feet. A duel with
the devil we had to concede
before sailing back up to our Martini sea.
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 3:25 PM UTC
Hi
Father
You will
always be
on top of the
pyramid. No one
will never ever sit on your
throne. All the glory is Yours
All songs of praise are Yours and
All honor and worship are given to You
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 3:57 AM UTC
The Great Pyramid
Scared to Death,
which makes sense,
nowhere to go but up,
from the top of The Great Pyramid,
no pictures here,
so free you can’t capture it,
white owls and black cats,
call me Alexandria,
honest what,
do you do when,
all of the wisdom,
gets spoken but people don’t listen.
Listen.
I’m at the top of the pyramid,
and I’m scared to death,
not scared of death,
but scared to death,
and that’s exactly what a paradox is,
Isis,
and Horus,
light the,
menorahs,
bless all,
our children,
the need,
more than hope when,
their families are dying,
and it’s not enough to just be trying,
need more than hope,
need to do more than try,
when you can walk no higher,
that is when it’s time to fly.
Scared to Death,
which makes sense,
nowhere to go but up,
from the top of The Great Pyramid.
Please God,
we are,
the Children of Egypt,
we created the pyramids,
and our pyramids created this,
so don’t expect,
a symphony of sympathy from us kids,
even if we,
we unconditionally accept it,
Oh God,
please don’t neglect,
can’t you see we did this all for you,
and all we ask for in return is your acceptance and respect,
Oh God,
I’m scared to death,
I’m stressed and I’m tense,
please allow me to relax,
and please,
when I reach your gates,
I pray you let me pass,
I am just a child of You,
and we are family especially in death,
yes,
I do believe the Light will prevail,
even if it hasn’t happened in this generation yet,
and I’m excited and I’m ready all my bags are packed,
and I’m climb up the steps to the top of The Great Pyramid,
and I’ll come when you call,
even when I’m scared to death…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
The Holy Trilogy Vol. 1; available worldwide: 11/11/16
Nov 1, 2016
Nov 1, 2016 at 4:02 AM UTC
Africa is beautiful and beautiful is usual in Africa
Continental wonderland of love this is Africa
What's in Africa? What's there to see?
I asked myself on the New Year's eve
I thought that I was good in geography
But I didn't know Lagos or Nairobi
I might be ignorant, I have to admit
About Africa I knew just a little bit
The great Sahara - sands of mystery!
The Nile river - so much history!
Africa is magical and magical is usual in Africa
Continental wonderland of joy this is Africa
Namibia, Nigeria, Niger, Angola, Algeria
Burundi, Benin and Libya, Lesotho and Liberia
Burkina-Faso, Botswana, Guinea-Bissau, Ghana
Djibouti, Zimbabwe, Zambia, Uganda, Rwanda, Gambia
I saw a film on Serengeti Park
A one of a kind, a must-see landmark
I watched a documentary on pyramids of Giza
They're much much older than Mona Lisa
I heard that oldest coffee plants
Take their roots in Ethiopia's land
And that samba, rumba, funk and jazz
Take their beats from African drums
Africa is beautiful and beautiful is usual in Africa
Continental wonderland of love this is Africa
Cameroon and Congo, Malawi, Mali, Morocco
Côte d'Ivoire and Kenya, Mauritius, Mauritania
Tunisia, Tanzania, Eswatini, Eritrea
Sudan, Senegal, Somalia, Sierra Leone, South Sudan
You can travel around cities of Africa
Like Cape Town, Cairo or Casablanca
If you're in love or plan to be
Go to Zanzibar, feel that ocean breeze!
Climb up mount Kilimanjaro
Watch the zebras cross the Masai Mara
If you're adventurous, you're a dreamer
Take a wild trip down Zambezi river
Africa is magical and magical is usual in Africa
Continental wonderland of joy this is Africa
Comoros, Chad, Cabo Verde, Democratic Republic of Congo
Ethiopia, Egypt, Guinea, Gabon, Equatorial Guinea and Togo
Madagascar, Mozambique, Central African Republic
Sao Tome and Principe, South Africa and Seychelles
Africa is beautiful and beautiful is usual in Africa
Continental wonderland, I'm on my way to Africa!
May 3, 2022
May 3, 2022 at 7:33 PM UTC
If only we could fly like
those that tweet or hoot
without aid of jet or
parachute
For I sure don't like
wings that boom and roar
just so they can take off
and soar
Ah, to fly without petrol, diesel
or fuel
Oh, to halt that taloned midair
duel *
Birds they don't pollute
the air
nor need they any airline
fare
So if only I too could rise
and glide
and let the wind be my
sole guide
I'd be happy to fly all the
way to 'em' faraway stars
if I was assured I'd risk
no charring scars.
Flying without aviation
formalities
I could be sightseeing
many more cities
Ah I so wish to fly just
like a jay or jackdaw
Then I'd fly across all and
every border
For I'd know nor follow
no man-made law!
If only we needed no darned immigration pass or visa
We could have visited so many more touristy places
Say even the spectacular and popular pyramids of Giza
And we could have known different cultures and races
Ah, a stylish photo next to the leaning tower of Pisa
And return with exotica like a framed pic of the Mona Lisa
Feb 26, 2019
Feb 26, 2019 at 12:20 PM UTC
At Summer Solstice, the Sun is far
distant from the celestial equator
and that day is the longest of the year.
From Khufu’s Great Pyramid at Giza
the scarlet Phoenix with the golden crest
swoops silent and low across the Delta.
Only half a millennium of life
before it passes to the flames of fire
and is reborn again from charred ashes.
This yang bird, fiery and blood cardinal
a solar flare blazing incandescent
pumps joy from the igneous heart of earth
erupts red hot energy volcanic
exciting and swirling the power of Qi.
Sun’s light and heat brings universal life,
and worshipped as Samash, Mithras and Ra,
Aztec God Tezcatlipoca,
Greek Helios, Phoebus and Apollo.
Now comes the agile Phoenix, sunset-stained
Broad-winged and gliding in the cloudless skies
Certain source of abundance and plenty
Plump-rich each berry, mango, peach, pear, plum.
Squeeze juicy sweet and succulent to taste
Summer full blown, mature and glorious.
© M.L.Emmett
Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 1:28 PM UTC
Chordata found land for share
no Bovid, no beast of malice
Nubians' return to valley of Giza
Markhor now alive past desolate Hungza
Jun 21, 2011
Jun 21, 2011 at 5:27 PM UTC
Today is your birthday, spindle-top maid.
Another year of desolate bridges.
Bridges by us, once believed to be true,
now laid to rest in mineralised brine.
Though my desires have long since faded,
small town streets will forever sing your name,
calling, calling, for youth and infant love.
Time may have set, but as with Giza stone
you lay in evidence of what has been.
And now, in years progressed, I tend to this,
my page. Some hungover apology,
for cruelness, that in ignorance, I wreaked.
For, though in my life there is ugliness,
and evil now apparent in this world;
I have learnt through experience, virtue
of kindness, of careful tread upon land.
Oh, mother of Horus, and Christian slave,
you bought me devotion in time of aid.
I'm calling, calling, in meekness undue,
for your sandstone likeness to hold in place.
With time comes erosion, African wind,
to scorch at the kindness, held to your breast.
So, in fear of forced blindness, cynical
waste; I mumble in this dirt-kissed prayer.
God of knowledge, oh God of braying flock,
bring to me your scripture, word of Thoth.
All so I can deliver, all so I
can sing; this tuneless ode of my redress,
this humbled hope for spring.
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 6:32 PM UTC
once,
just once,
give me that starry eyed look,
you gave him.
is that too much to ask?
you’ve got the gaze
which could raze
the pyramids of Giza.
though you hold
your silky hand in mine
and run my pencil thin fingers
down your gartered legs,
your lips and that cartouche
still bear his name.
they only bear his name....
his shadow etched
even deeper
within the impenetrable walls
of your tumultuous heart.
but, that’s aye ok!
not all things in life
are meant to be,
every love
is a product of destiny,
which includes you and me.
© 2021
Dec 5, 2021
Dec 5, 2021 at 9:35 AM UTC
SuzAnne, nee Christine
Irascible, Incorrigible, Indefatigable, Affable
Adopted sister of Doug and Mike and sort of Jill
Lover of ideas and stances
Who fears laryngitis and deafness
Who needs music and malleability
Who gives grades and advice
Who would like to see Firenze and the Pyramids of Giza
Who lives in Hot Water
Wilson, nee Doe
Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 8:12 PM UTC
For some, certain places
hold a rather mythic oeuvre
in our veins; they are seen as places of magic.
Maybe a cyclist couple
have spent most of their money
on traveling the world for their blog,
their last stop is New York City
so that they may get pictures of themselves
at places like The Brooklyn Bridge, Lady Liberty
& that megalithic skyline reaching the clouds.
Or maybe a foodie from Wisconsin
just wants to try Famous Ben's Pizza on the West Side
because its New York fuckin' New York pizza.
Maybe a doe-eyed screenwriter skips
his flat square suburban town
to sell his words and soul to the sprawling sunny L.A
where dreams are made in pixels.
Maybe some New Age beaded wrist to ankle lady
spent her life savings to jump over the ocean
to visit the ancient pyramids built for a purpose
yet fully known.
Maybe a bearded dude
visits Easter Island to try and understand
the complexities of his ancestors while
soaking in the rich vastness of nature around.
Maybe I used to see places this way. Probably...
But in these places people live!
It's not mythology to them.
Maybe every night a homeless man prays
& begs for food on the late night A-train in NYC.
Maybe a middle-aged fading blonde couple
spend their time in L.A at a health food store
to recoup the savings they lost joining a cult way back when.
Maybe a Swedish teen traverses the trash
and littered-burned streets of Giza everyday
on her way to work
hoping funny looks aren't shot her way
for the way she dresses
or shouted at by bearded Salafi men.
Maybe a rare species of bug is unknowingly stepped on
in Easter Island.
Today, i see magic in getting lost on the NYC subway.
I found magic mythology on the beaches of Dahab,
80 miles away from Cairo.
I see magic in the mythologies,
while others live it,
the daily grind.
It's all around if you know where to look.
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 11:46 AM UTC
*i wait all weak for the newspaper sections i read to arrive,
the magazines of sat. and sun.,
the style section, the culture section, and the news review,
things that matter to be honest.*
i wonder why people want brave ethnicity,
they want the long ships the arabs do
listening to viking metal,
the vikings want peace and quite,
but with global capitalism
and the defunct national socialism:
if only the jews weren't involved
the single pathology, all those able and nimble,
we get no ethnic bravery,
we only get citizens and astronauts,
the only exploration geography is empty and vast
space, and since we're using fossil fuels
we're exploring and destroying at the same time,
like the olden days: plunder and pillage mechanics,
but we're waiting for the other exploration
dynamic, where almost everyone is involved:
turn an autocrat to be paired with a tsunami
or an earthquake and you get panic,
pair the tsunami / earthquake with democracy
and you still get panic...
pair it to a theocracy and you get theories
like evolutionary history with the time scale all
too wobbly extending too far, people
think of gooey eggs easy in 5min,,
but monkey to man in 5 minutes - where's
the adaptability issue concerning?
the darwinian per se dislodges man's
adaptability concerns - historically it was going
to be either Stonehenge or the Giza pyramids,
darwinism dislodged man's adaptability
to future concerns by favouring debate of past truth
and whether mathematically speaking:
the geometric beginning of x, y, z, was
a will to live from the standpoint of (0, 0, 0),
denial of denial creates a propeller, kantian
given 0 = negation.
instead of being as darwin stressed evolutionary beings,
we've become historical beings,
with 24h news reels, with celebrity culture,
trying to piñata nazis... japan conquering with karaeoke
singing... loss of story telling...
with intellectuals trying to pinpoint and in an arena
of plagiarism agree a historical date
where dialectics is impossible... because something
is cited, circa, and the circa defines one person being
wrong and the other person being right...
evolutionary analysis made us so overcome by our history
we're trying to live a single day out,
but in 24h news reels no important historical event will take
place... i call it historical insomnia...
as a scot might say: eh maytee,
das est shovel of ***** (linguistic allegory: shy kite)!
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 7:22 PM UTC
President of the Republic of Germany's Presidential
Security Council President 150 (1973) (5) President.
This operation and her long legs in the stomach
of horses. This is very clear, especially
in Latin America, Europe, Russia and Spain,
and in Canada, the prostitutes and dogs
are essential for Mexico. 1, What are you doing?
According to Adam Clark, women in the São Samar
and all the Yogis are women, women
and children in Africa, Asia and South America,
Germany and England, Gilbert and George.
In the United States, Russia is good. Americans
want to live in Canada, and Great Britain.
About two thirds of Catholics in San Francisco,
China, Russia, South Korea, and the USA.
Then I'll enter the dogs. Type of songs not written 1.
Latin American products in Latin America.
Spain, Wales, bull by Alice. From the foundation
of the world, he was born in the largest area
of the world to study and study John's leaders.
I said. Out of control. There is no competition.
France, on the second day. In addition
to the prostitutes and the elderly Muslims,
in the windows they are given comfort
in adultery. Many companies in Jamaica
can express their feelings to Guinea.
These are green geese. His mother Mattie.
So Georgia. (5) It is important to add
the 1292 standard modes in the message,
and a TV show is found. Asian countries
in the Americas and Africa, African and Latin
American prostitutes, from Germany, Yugoslavia,
Denmark, prostitutes and more prostitutes.
Vegetables. In a comedy, Oustiin's family
are prostitutes and prostitutes; Within 150 hours
in the city, United Nations Security Council
(5), 1973 (1973), Executive Director (5).
The information is contained in the robot
robot center. Open the next part of the tree.
I also said in Pittsburgh: "You are not listening
to me,
as a ********** 1, a maid and a horse." This list
is incomplete. In the United States, Europe,
Russia, Spain, Canada and European slums,
old and advanced technologies. The items returned
to the Swiss Express Pond were from the port.
Of course, like a dog and others.
Prison or Russian court? There are many
benefits to Giza the Robot and Sarah
Barrow in the Middle Valley 2 to 2, 2.
In the Middle East, there are many benefits
for the team and many others. The fish
in the grass. There are waters in Latin
America, West Africa, Asia, the Congo,
England, Germany, and Assisi, which
are collected on the moon along
with different cultures of different breeds.
Nov 27, 2018
Nov 27, 2018 at 9:13 PM UTC
so much politics
went into the LGBT community
as it did into a zoological propaganda
machine -
that the source of such
anomalies became excluded
to rhyme compensation;
we became anti- heterosexual,
i mean, why bother,
given the enterprise of science,
we're gods after all,
divorced, artificially inseminating
with ****** (who the ****
cut my **** off?!) the next perfumed
foetus dear...
**** me, forget natural,
leave it to a science leverage...
let's become critical of heterosexual males,
pederasts in the shadow of the crucifix;
since when did sins equate laws?
he was crucified for filing redemption under:
**** well, sober up, and boil out the waters,
get rid of heterosexual males,
might at well, Holocaust the *******
given the science...
erase their opinions... elevate prostitution
to surrogacy... it's only natural...
**** them off... i'm waiting for you to grow
a pair of ***** or bouquet me silly
with floral arrangements to induce sleep,
such that more homosexuals and trans
come from test-tubes rather than my *****
to sentence me with sanity, and your
Nag Hammadi revision as: Giza prior
to Eiffel... i really don't think i'd rally
with **** sapiens to testify the quality
as inherent in me; when they're synthesised
without my involvement i'll think it natural,
scientifically speaking, analytically so,
without me being the precursor of more more more;
ever speak to a family of a trans-gender individual?
so why the **** are you fighting for the laws?
you hear the family speak? hear 'em?
it's hardly Alice in Wonderland.
Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 9:28 PM UTC
in history, when hen and then again, east and west become alike, the h and h of what's current, and when science encompasses trigonometry of the threes, with waving doubles of the u, and the chance graphic of x, y, z expansion; sometimes it's not what's about to be lived, but rather what's to be understood.
i'm alluding to, i'm not deluded by,
but then what's sanity
if a haystack rather than a pitchfork is,
with the concept of reincarnation appropriated
for educational purposes?
don't look at me to manage the immortals'
puppet strings; if his highness would
kindly like to stop hanging
on the four winds
and re-enter the tetragrammaton
from his holy tetracursus
ambitions - another day
brought into night with a flick of the hand -
yes, down from the cross;
expanding as he has no wonder
the Indians and the Chinese
are unconvinced crafting a likeness not akin
to lions but to ants - thus they number
happily without existential concerns -
not a single number partaking in ambivalent
sales of a hundred years like it was eternity;
it's just a t-shirt, i was just
a ****** tourist, look,
i'm wearing umbro jogging trousers,
a dressing-gown, and a t-shirt
with a Maltese cross of the Hospitallers
on it... that's all;
and if the Eiffel tower was the first
structure to topple the height of the pyramids
of Giza... i'm not surprised by the dark ages...
imagine building a skyscraper with
only two rooms in it... i've stood under
the Eiffel tower... it's scary to think
of the pyramids and the glorification of
man about to be buried
with a reverse anatomy of
being ****** out dry and not become
an ***** donor, when a simple engraving would
suffice - you know, the more human
you become (i.e. age), the more bewildered
you become by the body you're stored in
rather than the things outside of you
in what's called the universe paradoxically
to no known unity among man.
Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 7:15 AM UTC
I’m watching you
In the dark alleyways, where I gaze on as a mugging occurs
And standing on that gloomy, silent street corner, the little red light of my cigarette glowing
And from the roof of the echoing parking garage next to a lone car
And as I rest my back against the cold stone of a crypt in a graveyard
I’m watching you
In the dimly lit, empty café, where I sip a cup of loneliness
And as I dance in the smoky, sweating aliveness of the nightclubs
And as I stare at the waves on the deserted, moonlit boardwalk
I’m watching you
Seated atop the Sphinx of Giza in the freezing Egyptian night
And in the very back row of an empty baseball stadium
And in a prison cell, where a death row inmate sleeps fitfully
I'm watching you
Right behind you, but you don't know I'm there
I'm watching you
Always watching
In the night
Jan 2, 2011
Jan 2, 2011 at 10:51 AM UTC
We got here yester night
My lady of light and I
We are in the land of the pharaohs
We are in Cleopatra’s throes
As I stare at the pyre of Giza
I behold a stunning vista
Peeking from behind the pyre
The shiny belt of the great hunter
Orion watching over us
A good thing to keep in mind
And with his belt us-
He doth bind
Tis the night of love
Tis the season of affection
God watches from above
We have his full attention
I stare at my darling’s moonlit face
And upon me settles an ache
A stray hair I tuck back in place
A quick kiss I lean in to take
Our ups and downs we’ve had
Fights come and gone like a fad
Thru every foul mood
Firm our love has stood
Three quick thanks I whisper:
One to my lady for loving
One to the saint for dying
And one to the Father for everything
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 5:44 PM UTC
*pyramid, is that short of pencil-sharpener, an unmovable object, a Nevada experiment... (prolonged pause, also intended for a humidity of the questioning affect). quiet frankly you're making us look quiet silly give the mammalian status of sapiens; fuck's sake, Pythagoras spent a whole eternity contemplating a hypotenuse looking at the chiselled mountains of Giza - reputation wise you give monkeys a bad slogan - i.e. we evolved, evolved to build a temple of perpetual death: each slab housed the body of a labourer, and inside we just found a lot of poisonous powder ruminating to find the only basis for encrypting the whole affair, metaphysical borders, metaphysical by which i mean, due to Egyptology we have the museum-state that's Egypt, and the real life assertions without mint-condition comic book cults of mausoleum-states, known as Libya, Sudan and Israel; on that basis, a chicken and egg question, within etymological parameters, what came first, museum or mausoleum? see, history can be a Tchaikovsky affair, given etymology a dense shortening - a solid, rather than a **** when it comes to nationhood and patriotism and adherence to.*
a U.F.O. could have landed and we'd still
be printing dollars bills and admiring
that **** montem*, seriously, bring out
a pencil sharpener, we need to revise Mont Blanc,
more like Mont Bonkers - a white kite hey hey **
**** retardo* and a *** and
a singalong that Napoleon never spotted:
the Ramones with pet cemetary - that's how it's
in Englanf (no speel or spelling mistake,
impromptu arcadia, banishing the surds stemming
from Hay, or a needle in the stack),
a tombstone for each house what would have been,
the riddle of life with the priority of death
having seconds - the nørden of Newcastle will know,
that the soofern fairies are all Arab or Tsar pawnbrokers
or transvestites (as they respected Kenneth Rexroth,
but Proust incubated in only two volumes
just ain't for me).
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 10:46 AM UTC
My mother paints the Tokyo cherry trees.
She sketches the butterflies of Siam.
Some day, she'll bring my children
Their very own Indian elephants.
She wants to put an Asian painting
On every wall of her house,
But her African sculptures
Take up too much space.
I have never left my home, but she
Has been to the nooks and crannies
Of the pharoah's tombs in Giza,
And to the silver church of Kizhi island.
She brings them back to me
In pictures and words.
She holds Russia in her voice
When she tells me of a woman in a shawl
Who didn't smile for a picture,
Or a young couple on a moped
Who held a live chicken in their arms.
I shall never have to leave the safety
Of a warm sunday blanket,
When her arms are there to hold me
And sweep me to Arabia.
Sep 5, 2010
Sep 5, 2010 at 3:22 PM UTC
I.
This bridge spans two worlds... No, two realities, though where gone?!
Mirrors the mythological beauty of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon
Endorsing the clout and stoicism of Zeus's Statue on Mount Olympus
Parallels the grieving love that built the Mausoleum of Halicarnassus
Evokes the envy of the world as did the Great Library of Alexandria
Rescues forlorn souls, unrivaled since the Lighthouse of Alexandria
Embodies Giza's Pyramid's genius and their incorporated golden ratios
Shorter lived and more vulnerable than the Colossus of Rhodes
Most impressive, though, is that this bridge was only built by two
Abandoned the 8th wonder of the ancient world... Dare who?
II.
Horatius Cocles, sole guardian of its last half, despairs at the disrepair.
Mind forever enveloped and enthralled by shadow's legendary glare!
Horatius Cocles, despondent, knowing that glory days are long lost,
but more so bearing knowledge that Venus will never once more cross!
Horatius Cocles, tortured by this bridge, yet impotent to torch it ablaze.
Disabled evermore by visceral love, yet would do it all the same.
May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 6:46 PM UTC
You are the child of
Wine and the Giza Pyramids—
Slanted intoxication.
You are the sibling of
Your grand;
Golden as he sings melodies
made of cheap whiskey.
You are the uncle of
The reborn generation,
"I accept everyone except those who do not,"
They said.
Pretentious, yes.
But worry not, for
This is not a talk show
You are not sitting in a plush chair,
An audience at your eyes.
You are not the father.
Nov 14, 2012
Nov 14, 2012 at 1:50 PM UTC
I write you these letters,
as a reminder,
that Love still exist,
and She will always welcome you,
in unconditional acceptance,
please remember this,
or forget,
either way our collective memories,
will continue to collect,
at the top of The Great Pyramid,
in Giza,
Jesus,
Mary and Joseph,
or Broseph,
or whatever other name needs to remain,
to remind us we are family,
so whichever name I choose to address this letter,
the message in the reminder is the same,
we are family,
and as family we write letters home,
letters written like this,
a testimonial that Love exist,
call these words emotional hieroglyphs,
words,
written in script,
a curse,
as well as a gift,
which translate into this,
the bottle and the message,
21st. Century written words,
written from a genius wordsmith,
from the top,
of The Great Pyramid,
unedited,
pure medicine,
evidence,
written in,
the light of the Moon,
Mother,
I love you,
and I wrote you this letter,
to thank you and say that I’m coming home soon.
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Oct 7, 2016
Oct 7, 2016 at 1:26 PM UTC
Trace my love in the half-shell curve of a woman’s back,
Like the naked wetland of Egypt, ibis-nest of the Nile delta.
Lovely woman, throw your arm back like a tethered cord,
To this sledge-mason for your pyramids, this falcon-doting ward
Of your gold capstones, all-seeing eyes over the west-bank shore.
Love, our days of polished limestone are wind-scoured,
Left like a pile of petrified fruit from figs and bottle gourds.
Love, always forget, now the sand has filtered into my pores
And cascades into the empty shell of my quarried heart.
Nov 23, 2019
Nov 23, 2019 at 9:02 PM UTC