"lux" poems
Fiat lux and
Then I stand and see how it looks out on
Gnothi seauton psychologies of a naughty automaton he is
Out speeding on the autobahn while she is
Now sleeping on futons in peace it's
Not pieces that need to be re-ordered yet
Since he's reckless but wrecks less when he's courting it's
A sport, you see a ticket's his master trophy in-
Deed endorsing his Porsche-speed matrimony down master row and she's
Driven to this racer who makes her en-
Force things, they later make her take her lead like lead's erasing then vanishing
Banished from whatever it is they're drinking and it's cleaned
Running from the pitcher as if it's her fantasy
Love who's the catcher who has her and
Now you see
It's not lack-lusting but luck-lasting because lastly
Down the street
Is where I swear we're running faster from crashing, finally
Into this dreamcatcher's hazard
Our dreamcatcher's hazard
Oh have you heard
It's absurd that the whip cracked
Yeah the Porsche was hacked baby transformed back in two and back into a nat-
Ural rural state where the horse power level was more morally sta-
Ble biblically faith-
Ful foolishly a-
Ble but yeah we take over whatever we face-off and baby we're faster so we'll have to chase after our
Dreamcatcher's hazard and
That dreamcatcher's hazard's a
A madness that is learned
And it's absurd
So say the mattress is glowing it's holy
Matrimony, so don't look lonely it's only
Master Roshi, to say to chase your dreams
It's you and me be-
Cause for you my blood is flowing
For you my blood is glowing
For you this blood is flowing
And too the flood is blowing
It's true our love is growing
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 8:22 PM UTC
It burdens my heart
that you must contrast your smile
with the lux of stars
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 11:20 PM UTC
If you don’t have patience,
that weight might get you 4 to 8,
if you don’t pace it,
that weight might make your loved ones have to wait,
but I guess that’s better than a 9 to 5,
from 20 to life,
rather be a free man locked up inside,
than in prison on the out side every day of my life,
run away slaves still runnin,
we were once kings,
they turned us into pawns,
how we’re just corporate meat,
for sausages from Uncle John’s farm,
how quickly one can go from,
being Father King to an Uncle Tom,
these cities were never meant for us,
that’s why we’re restless and never feel at home,
anxious yes but if you don’t have patience,
that weight might get you 4 to 8,
if you don’t pace it,
that weight might make your loved ones have to wait,
the whole farm’s for sale,
there’s much more at stake than just steak,
Holy Cow where are we now,
somewhere between Chance and Fate,
somewhere between total failure and absolutely great,
not a rapper not a chance,
at least not anymore,
not here to sing and dance,
I am not anybody’s *****
this is Capitalism gone wrong,
Consumerism gone rouge,
where every new idea seems so passe,
that it’s out of Style before it’s even En Vogue,
Yo,
yo yo yo,
Yo MTV Raps got you to dance,
but all those black faces dancing got the white pockets paid and,
most of all the One Hit Wonders didn’t even get a 2nd chance,
gave all our time to Time Warner,
but we all know Warner Brothers is anything but a brother,
from the corner office right back to that corner,
from the lime light right back to those street lights,
better get right,
better save and invest,
we could get an island for what we spend on these diamonds,
know when to hold ‘em know when to fold ‘em well you know the rest,
if you don’t have patience,
that weight might get you 4 to 8,
if you don’t pace it,
that weight might make your loved ones have to wait,
but I guess that’s better than a 9 to 5,
from 20 to life,
rather be a free man locked up,
than in prison on the out side every day of my life,
run away slaves still runnin…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
author of multiple bestselling poetry books.
Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 10:48 PM UTC
Family Reunion
Had dinner with my parents tonight,
this week was the first time I’ve seen them together in my entire life,
honestly,
and even though I left home at 14,
all of the blame,
can’t really be put on either them or me,
because my parents had broken up,
since long before I was woken up,
separated for so long,
I often wondered if they were even ever together,
I brought them together for my birthday,
October 2016,
my father flew in from The States,
we all met in Thailand where my mom lives,
dinner was difficult,
my mom is losing her mind,
while she’s sitting there spilling her soul,
my dad just sits there and asks meaningless questions,
my mother sitting there saying how she has no money,
how she has no family other than us,
how she has no shoes on her feet,
and no real place to call home,
like I’m supposed to feel guilty for that,
like I don’t send her money all the time,
like I wasn’t in Thailand just to visit her,
like I’m a man now so she chooses to blame me,
like she’s chosen to blame every other man that’s ever been in her life,
how many husbands has she had now,
4 or 5,
maybe 6 or 7,
I don’t know I’ve lost count.
Seriously,
ridiculous,
what do you say to your mom,
when you think she’s a ****
and I know that might sound like a terrible thing to say,
but it’s the truth and I refuse to censor myself,
my,
self,
doesn’t even feel like me anymore,
not even sure if I’m a human let alone a man,
man,
the Atomic Family is more like an Atomic Bomb,
what a mess we’ve made,
and all in the name of what,
I have no idea,
honestly,
well,
it’s all probably a simulation always,
at least that’s what Elon Musk says,
“There’s a 1 in billions chance that we are not living in a Simulated Reality.”.
Makes me want to tell my parents,
that they are just part of a computer program,
but they’d probably just call me crazy,
and then just disappear…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
from The new book '777' available worldwide on Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1548700746
Jul 16, 2017
Jul 16, 2017 at 10:53 PM UTC
Maverick Don’t Panic
A Bad Boy,
with a good Heart,
at the tail end,
of a head start,
“Oh he’s prolific,
he’s profanic,
he’s depressed,
he’s manic,
he’s processed,
he’s organic,
he meditates and sits,
when he just can’t stand it,
and remember this is just a test so for the love of God please don’t panic,
or take anything for granted,
**** it,
I’m a good kid,
but got some bad habits,
got a good plan too,
just have to enact it,
bad,
but not the baddest,
and if they want it,
they can have it,
the map is,
my plan and,
in other words,
the Atlas is how I Nav this,
a Maverick,
like Cuban,
not Gooding no Sir.,
no Jr. a señor,
well not in age but in position,
in other words they’re minor leagues and we’re major,
a Maverick,
like Cuban,
not Gooding no Sir,
no Jr., a señor,
like Mark,
Zuckenberg,
a stark,
contrast between Comcast,
in other words,
Light & Dark are different castes,
in communications at least,
ComCast Communications Caste,
same waves just different frequencies,
in the sea,
the internet catches,
big fish and small fry,
Dark Shadows and Bright Lights,
right?…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 6:44 PM UTC
Eyes open
Upon the silent abode
Marvel at me
The heavens echoed
Predicaments dissolve into the trivial
The mind is spotless
You forget the greed, the hate
You remember only the love which intoxicates
Their watchful eyes
Shining upon us since antiquity
Embedded into the skies
An ever lasting source of serenity
Their melody decipherable to wanderers
Providing solace to the adrift
A message from our ancestors
Whispering that clear will be the mist
Jun 1, 2017
Jun 1, 2017 at 10:57 AM UTC
I've always been in place,
in situ
Maybe (just maybe) ...
I'm sui generis?
When my lifeline intersected with spacetime on this continuum
I found myself moving toward a collision course with duality and non-duality
Moving towards a zero-point
What are we talking about?
Nothing (Rafelski & Muller, 1985)
As a geographer, the mimetic expression was dualistic
As one plane flowed through another;
as fiat lux flowed through Medicine Rock
I found wisdom
I further explored the duality @ this place
(also known as University of Lethbridge)
The U of L is an interesting duck
It walks like an Albertan university
It talks like an Albertan university
But one of these things is certainly not like the other
The U of L got its chops as a house of learning for the Liberal Arts
Follow those roots and you'll see conduits to another spacetime known as UCBerkley
U of L memetics share material memories from the birth of the Free Speech Movement (1964)
And as Arthur Erickson drafted up his plans for Canada's centennial gift to the Province of Alberta, I'm sure he would have been partaking in the pleasures of this particular spacetime
I'm sure at the very least that he was listening to Hendrix wax on about Castles
As Erickson designed this modernistic monolith called University Hall
There were influences such as Arthur C. Clarke and his novel 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)
He was certainly knowledgeable of the Blackfoot stories of the Old Man
And of course as an architect he would be versed in gravity and how built structures on a slope tend to creep toward base-level
Strange but true, Erickson's first degree was in foreign languages
So what I see is Canada's premier architect wrote a poem for us in 1968
In a foreign language
And that poem would be expressed over the next forty to fifty years
Some of those primary poetic elements were:
Berkley, California
Hippie Movement
Creep (or gravity)
Base level
Blackfoot creation stories of the Old Man
Jimi Hendrix poetry and his savage musical genius
"and so castle's made of sand melt into the sea, eventually."
So let's reinterpret that line to be more U of L centric
(through my glossy apertures)
"and so monolith's made by man melt back into god eventually."
........ ....... ...... ..... ..... .... ... .. . zero~point . .. ... .... ..... ...... ....... ........
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 10:33 AM UTC
We walk upon the dock,
skinny dipping swimming in our Moonrise Kingdom,
in the sea we swim with saline skin,
as the Moon rise ascends with Mars patiently waiting,
where are we,
we are in a place many call paradise,
suppose that’s as good of a word for it as anything,
raw rock lobster ceviche no married time just maritime,
mirrored minds,
looking through the Looking Glass,
brewing brines,
the home brewed stew is cooking fast,
there are plenty of fish in the sea,
it’s just up to you to cast,
the only problem with magical moments,
is they are always gone to fast,
basking,
in her stare,
brackish
taste in the air,
Her eyes reflect the light of the Moonrise,
the shine reflects from moon to hair,
and we are both grateful for each other,
because we could be anywhere in the world but we are here,
her eyes reflect the light of the Moonrise,
she is as soft as white sand beaches,
but her shell,
her shell is as hard as stone crab no ceviche,
teach us,
teacher,
show me the Love,
class is always in session,
show me the Light,
show me the truth in your lessons,
blessing,
this world with her touch,
she commands where she goes,
she stands steady when she walks,
which is quite a contrast,
to this sea which sways below this dock,
we dive in,
alive when,
we swim,
within the waters with our bare skin,
bare skin,
under the light of our Moonrise Kingdom,
no where else to be but where we are,
so we’ll be here until Kingdom come…
∆ Aaron La Lux ∆
from Hollywood's Heartbeat
available worldwide 7/7/16
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 6:42 PM UTC
**We’re Gonna Need Some Sunglasses For This Mushroom Cloud
Gonna need some sunglasses for this one,
it’s 6AM I’m in LA it’s been a long night for sure,
just gotta get into that cafe get that cappuccino,
then get safely unnoticed and back to the idling car,
Jar,
of Flies,
sorry I’m not sorry,
that’s a bad reference to 1995,
bad because Jar of Flies was a different year,
different year different name,
’95 was self-titled,
‘Alice In Chains’,
remind me again,
what the heck we’re talking about,
this poem has no parameters,
it’s off course but still going along,
gonna need some sunglasses for this one,
like my glasses like I like my roast,
with my Valentino’s and dark cappuccino,
and you with your mimosa my dear Yoda let us toast,
“To the Next Episode!” let’s go,
No Dre though it’s more of a Good Day,
not to be rude to Ice Cube but I got ice cubes in my flute,
in perpetual motion from chronic transitions of change,
and when I say Change I’m not talking about Rock The Vote,
because we all see where voting got us,
now we got ‘ Donald Duck Mr. Talk A lot of Nonsense’,
we got that stone cold soviet ****** Kim Jong-un launching stunner missiles like Steve Austin,
dropping finishing moves ’Cold Stunning’ but instead of a drop kick he’s bomb launching,
we can’t even stop him as in Kim Jong-un with bad movies and meetings with Dennis Rodman,
Oh My God Son!
We’re really gonna need some sunglasses for this one,
have you ever seen the magnificence of an Atom Bomb,
a mushroom clouds of the most beautiful hues,
a moment of infinite Light just before the moment we’re all eternally gone…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆**
Mar 7, 2017
Mar 7, 2017 at 1:29 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
Get out your sponges, stippling brushes and pens,
It’s time for makeover-Monday-night to begin.
Think Winky Lux, L’Oréal, Urban Decay,
Maybelline, Armani and Fabergé
It’s a black magic realm where brushes are wands,
where a carnival of colors are carefully crayoned.
We have palettes aplenty, in kaleidoscope hues,
to create fashion looks, both bold and subdued.
In the realm of makeup fashion, where trends never end,
we remodel each other - for fun - when we can.
Tonight, our new friend Jammie has come to watch us play,
and he even brought two bottles of chardonnay.
Lisa has a ‘Miss Rose’ case, like she saw in Bernadette Peters’
dressing room, on a backstage tour of the Shubert Theatre.
Konjac, Kabuki, Doe foots, Spoolie, Lisa’s got legit tools to use.
“When it comes to makeup,” she says, “always avoid dupes.”
That night I was the chosen face, the excited living canvas.
Lisa’s a practiced artist, her process is brisk and never tedious.
She painted my lips a crimson cherry, alluring and brightly sensuous,
my brows were moonlit art, my cheeks a midnight adumbrated edifice.
Lisa created a special look, where rebellious edge met elegance.
We took some snaps, then I washed it off - but Jammie was impressed!
Jun 6, 2023
Jun 6, 2023 at 10:51 PM UTC
When words are not enough,
and the world won’t get off her back,
she dances the Devils way,
She’s a princess,
wait she’s a queen,
wait she’s an angel,
wait she’s everything,
a Goddess,
the hottest performing artist I’ve ever seen,
and she’s dancing,
dancing is her therapy,
I mean,
I’m not James Brown,
but it’s a man’s world,
even if Rihanna runs this town,
See,
she’s been suppressed all her life,
and I’m not just talking about Rihanna,
I’m talking about every girl that was ever forced to be a wife,
just to survive in this life,
she was touched by her father,
or brother or cousin,
when she was just a little girl,
I know we all wish it wasn’t,
but it is true,
so what’s a girl to do,
when she’s a clean 13 messing with The ***** Dozen,
this isn’t battle of the sexes,
this is war of the worlds,
wants to be a woman but she’s just a girl,
no No Doubt just burnt out nerves taken turns,
she never asked to be born,
with the burden of being beautiful,
but she refuses to conform,
she is attractable irrational and radical,
so when it’s all too much,
the stares and the catcalls,
the aggressive forceful touch,
the nails across her back like a blackboard,
and the moans become just white noise,
she takes it all in,
she forgives the man because he’s just a boy,
he is an angel even if he has fallen,
she takes it all in,
and she uses all of those abuses,
as the fuel with the tools which induces,
an allusive state of truth which,
allows her to move with intuitive smoothness,
and lose herself in the music morphing into what a centrifuge is,
separating fluids transforming what was otherwise useless abuses,
into a truth that cruises and confuses the stupid stooges,
she dances,
in a statement of glorious refusal to submit to their ideals,
she is more than a princess queen angel goddess,
she is fire burning up all preconceived notions of *** appeal,
the real deal,
dancing sweating cleansing her soul and her pores,
moving faster in progression refuting repression,
overcoming an obsession of oppression and knocking down all doors,
she is not a possession,
though she is possessed when,
she’s a dancing expression of how we all feel and more,
no words are enough,
she shows what we all feel,
she reveals what,
was before thinly concealed,
she is the perfect expression,
of imperfect circumstances,
she is poetic stanzas,
she is the paint on the canvas,
there is no question that she is the answer,
and all of this is made clear when she takes it all in,
let’s go of everything and dances…
∆aron L∆ Lux ∆
#strength #metoo #dancer #ballet #blackswan
Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 1:48 PM UTC
The shining, gleaming, easy-wipe
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You’ll be the talk of the town,
with our new and improved model
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DE-LUX features now available
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Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 4:34 PM UTC
the Sun’s about to set,
I can hear Jaguars in the uncomfortably near distance,
and I’m thinking they can come and get me I'm ready,
because Death by Jaguar wouldn’t be a bad way to go in this instance,
It would be glorious,
the kind of death that I would not protest,
I’m ready for my glory “Jaguar Spirit come and get me!”,
lead me to the Underworld and introduce me to this infamous character called Death,
yes,
I’m ready to go,
but apparently God isn’t quite ready for me yet,
see this isn't my first subconscious attempt,
at expediting my inevitable destiny with Death.
Still as much as I beg,
and as lost as I feel,
I find my way out of the jungle,
and stumble upon a Guatamalan encampment where I’m fed a good meal,
oh well,
maybe next time I shall be food for a Jaguar,
and then through my sacrifice I’ll become a legend,
and my story will get told and my poems read around future camp fires,
The Tale of The Poet Who Took Death by Jaguar,
as traumatic as it sounds it honestly wasn’t a bad way to go,
or so he had thought while finding himself lost,
alone with no one but that Jaguar deep in the Guatemalan jungle…
∆ Aaron La Lux ∆
Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 7:41 AM UTC
god gives glory in defeat and
i search through that darkness that
excludes and gives light to
heavy hearts.
darkness that is contradictory in its ways because
it gives birth to lux in secrecy and
play, then allows you to succumb to better things.
like an evil queen he hides her up in a tower,
veiled by turbulent, tumultuous clouds that thunder and roar
to drown out her screams for rescue.
as i trek on i tell myself,
**** a demon today, face the devil tomorrow.",
but i have been in hell too long,
and i can no longer tell the difference between
feathered wings and ghoul kings.
on stone-paths, i hear the angels of mercy sing.
their notes lead the way,
but somehow i get caught up in the stupor.
i search through darkness to find the light.
light shone on darkness and
darkness did not come.
yet i still wear his helmet.
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 11:19 PM UTC
Totally out of it,
don’t even know which flip-flops I put on,
what day is it?
what time is it?
it's sunset.
And I already want to write another poem,
But I won’t write another sunset poem,
at least not yet.
There’s breakfast to fix,
there's a pool to swim,
it's magnificent,
this twisted life I'm in,
so before we break bread,
let’s pray,
“Good morning Beautiful world,
what a wonderful day to give thanks!”
∆ Aaron La Lux ∆
Volume 1
The H Trilogy
I just published a new book.
If you could take a moment to check it out,
and even write a review it'd be most appreciated.
All profits go to a charity that prevents child abuse and ****** assault.
So not only are you getting an epic book of poetry,
but you're also supporting a good cause.
Thank you SO much!
∆
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01I4621OE
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 8:36 AM UTC
There be some juice. Light, we cannot drink.
Dark our days that trudge on, laden caravan.
There be some song, to the tune of the winds.
Parched, the baked earth thirsting for a caress
wet from the silken lashes of the sky maiden.
Let's talk to her tonight,
the last lotus is in still-bloom
in the folds of her tresses
as she goes about plucking
stars for her worship-basket.
Soon the earth is covered
in the misty offerings to Deities
at the far end of spacetime.
Juice some there be. Drink, we cannot light.
Caravan laden on trudge that days our dark.
The winds of the tune to song some there be.
A caress for thirsting earth the baked, parched
maiden the sky of lashes the silken from wet.
Let there be light, let there be.
Darkness, we have enough.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 4:30 PM UTC
All these things,
mean nothing to me,
stop giving me gifts,
you can’t buy me with things,
I’m on a flight with no baggage,
only carry on so carry on,
just checking in I just checked in on a flight,
gone into the light of the night so if you’re checking for me I’m already gone,
on a flight with no baggage,
can’t get used to taking this abuse,
I mean I know we’re all monsters,
but that’s no excuse,
and I know we usually destroy our own lives,
so why even try to improve I mean really what’s the use?
Destroying our own cities,
look what horrors we’ve become,
toying with our own citizens,
becoming old and alone instead of together and young,
living long enough to see ourselves become the villains,
growing ugly and old instead of dying beautiful and young,
oh Lord what have we done?
And I just want to escape,
please I want to leave and go anywhere but here,
see you don’t own me I’m not your doll,
so don’t call me baby or sweetie or honey or dear,
I am not any one of your things to be given,
I am not responsible for your oppressed childhood tears,
I am bigger than that,
I am bigger than you,
I am the Cheshire Cat,
I am the moon,
I am bigger than big,
I am a monster to monsters,
so no do not try and control me,
because I conquer those that try and conquer,
a monster,
with metallic scales and electric hair,
I grip your tiny Hell of a shell and crush your rig caged fury,
I step forward the earth quakes and my black eyes rage,
little man please,
hitting me doesn’t make you’re weak self stronger,
and I know I put up with your passive aggressive attacks before,
but I’ve turned into a monster and won’t put up with it any longer,
you’ve turned me into a monster,
so I’m standing up,
to all the times I’ve been knocked down,
I’m getting you out of my life,
and I’m getting me out of this town,
out of this place,
away from these things,
and I swear to God I’ll cut off my fckn finger,
if that’s what it takes to lose this ring,
all these things,
mean nothing to me,
stop giving me gifts,
you can’t buy me with things,
I’m on a flight with no baggage,
only carry on so carry on,
just checking in I just checked in on a flight,
gone into the light of the night so if you’re checking for me I’m already gone…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 10:18 PM UTC
Many of you don’t know this,
but I wear my sunglasses at night when I write,
and I know I am a poet,
and I’m supposed to be both understood and misunderstood at the same time,
but I can tell you exactly why I wear my sunglasses when I write,
without any misinterpretations whatsoever,
I wear my sunglasses when I write to block the EMFs,
that emit from the the screen on my electronic device,
and make their way to try and make a way into my eyes,
it’s as if every electronic device is alive,
and they want to take every thing from us including our vibe,
and I’m not sure for sure if this is true so just to be safe I protect my eyes,
by wearing my sunglasses at night when I write,
I want to stay pure,
pure enough at least for you,
because everything I write and do,
of course I do it for you,
as cliche as that might sound,
please know that every word of it is true,
and I’m trying not to rhyme to much so these words don’t sound corny,
but I’m a poet I can’t help it I rhyme without even trying *** else am I supposed to do,
and as far as cliches I’ve got another one coming your way hey, “I Love You.”
I love you,
and I’m trying to stay as pure as I can,
so that I can be clear when I see you,
if we ever have the pleasure of seeing each other again,
as lovers or friends,
either way I am here,
and I’m open,
completely,
devoted,
and cleanly,
unfolded,
and ready,
high voltage,
but steady,
I told ya,
I’m ready,
I noticed,
already,
that you noticed,
me so deeply,
that I broke open easy,
as our emotions,
became confetti,
I told you I told you,
I’ve already been ready already,
and we’re in a storm,
and we’re lost at sea,
but we’re almost to shore,
so please just hold steady,
steady,
steady,
breathe,
steady,
steady hand writes the words,
before fingers become spaghetti and I can write no more,
because honestly I feel like I’m losing all control,
and honestly experiencing strange things then staring at screens doesn’t help,
help,
this is a cry for help,
I’m not scared to admit I’m scared,
I actually have only one fear,
I’m only scared of one thing and nothing else,
being alone.
I am alone.
You are alone.
But we can be alone together.
I told you before I’m totally open,
I told you before I’ve already been ready already,
and I’m trying to stay as pure as possible as I wait for you,
and that’s why I wear these sunglasses so that the EMFs don’t extra affect me,
many,
of you don’t know this,
but I wear my sunglasses at night when I write,
and I know I am a poet,
and I’m supposed to be both understood and misunderstood at the same time,
but I can tell you exactly why I wear my sunglasses when I write,
without any misinterpretations whatsoever,
I wear my sunglasses when I write to block the EMFs,
that emit from the the screen on my electronic device,
and make their way to try and make a way into my eyes,
it’s as if every electronic device is alive,
and they want to take every thing from us including our vibe,
and I’m not sure for sure if this is true so just to be safe I protect my eyes,
by wearing my sunglasses at night when I write,
I want to stay pure,
pure enough at least for you,
because everything I write and do,
of course I do it for you,
as cliche as that might sound,
please know that every word of it is true,
and I’m trying not to rhyme to much so these words don’t sound corny,
but I’m a poet I can’t help it I rhyme without even trying *** else am I supposed to do,
and as far as cliches I’ve got another one coming your way hey, “I Love You.”
I love you,
and I’m trying to stay as pure as I can,
so that I can be clear when I see you,
if we ever have the pleasure of seeing each other again,
as lovers or friends,
either way I am here,
wearing my sunglasses at night when I write,
and I know I am a poet,
and I’m supposed to be both understood and misunderstood at the same time,
but I can tell you exactly why I wear my sunglasses when I write…
∆ Aaron La Lux ∆
Oct 16, 2016
Oct 16, 2016 at 12:32 PM UTC
She’s so cute I wanna eat her face,
like I’m high on bath salts,
she’s vegan,
but takes my tongue like a cannibal,
eat your hearts out Haters,
cut my ear off and send it to her like Van Gogh,
ear off a part of the big picture,
or rather painting we’re painting she gets the first stroke,
we’re wild like animals untamable all in all the time,
into the deep end head first Geronimo cannonball,
Black Swan dive she’s gone alive,
the Pied Piper the Eyed Viper the venom & the antidote,
and I quote a quote I wrote myself,
“She’s the answer to my prayers”, the reason and the hope,
she’s the answer to my prayers,
and I don’t even pray,
okay actually on the low I do pray,
and I’ve seen a lot of amazing things but I’m still amazed,
I’m amazed,
and tomorrow isn’t promised today,
and tomorrow never comes,
but she comes and when she does she comes in waves,
I’m in a daze,
honey glazed and lovely crazed,
my bed’s a mess haven’t made it in days,
bed’s a mess but when we’re together we’ve got it made,
so perfectly misbehaved it’s insane,
lost myself then found my self all up in her maze,
and usually I’m not religious,
but she’s so delicious I must say,
thank you Lord or God Amen to her I give all thanks & praise,
and she’s so cute I wanna eat her face,
like I’m high on bath salts,
she’s vegan,
but takes my tongue like a cannibal…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Venice, California; 2018
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 12:58 PM UTC
Palaces of ****** souls
have green neon text frames
standing sideways like arches;
divine arrows, they guide
the paternal flunks, the tar-soaked offspring,
the lonely and the business bunch.
Here in these palaces, all sin is a freeze, all
lust is a spin.
Fairy lights are often flagged in a net,
to catch mischievous mares flinging
themselves against the glass displays
of overpriced clothing shops.
One finds when wondering the perpetual
lines of restaurants and cafes, the vastness of them
having a motherly touch, for
these palaces, they stretch like the sky and
they spread like the shepherded
fire ants of Gaia herself
And when ones welcome is overbid
they need only to follow the
evenly laid out, sorrow yellow street lamps
and bite their cheeks and bare the frost
for soon the polluted lux will lead them to
an overnight joint, a limbo of sorts,
where they can breathe anew.
On those red leather sofas- fast food
or the district kind- when the night seems
to crawl on its final limbs,
they'll lay and slip into sleep.
Some say they never do wake, that they
wither with the moon and then
haunt the attics of the dance halls
where they swirled and laughed and lived
in a previous life.
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 2:34 PM UTC
Amnesia Deja Vu
Amnesia Deja Vu,
or Deja Va Amnesia,
don’t remember to remember to,
but I do remember repeating,
please,
remind me why we’re alive,
what Star are you that’s fallen,
and how have you survived,
no lie,
no woman,
no cry,
please,
remind me why we are alive,
remind me,
why I continue to right,
right now,
designated as a scribe,
to help us remember the memories,
help me help you,
so cliche and still totally true,
Amnesia,
Deja,
Vu…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
New Book Here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1540322262
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 5:34 AM UTC
El Mirador
The Sikh man on the the rooftop balcony,
tells me if I have any problems in this city,
to come and see him,
and he will deal with it,
he’s serious,
and he’s loving,
and his black eyes reflect,
against the black streeted city,
in a way that leaves no doubt,
upon my incensed mind,
we are in,
a Belizean town,
on the Guatemala border,
it’s late the moon is there,
as She always is such a trusted companion,
the balcony smells,
of humid resentment,
there is a sleepy nostalgia,
blowing through the air,
everything looks misty,
tomorrow I depart for Flores,
then to El Mirador,
the largest pyramid in the world,
waiting for me to explore,
I have a few days,
found some extra time,
between flying to NYC,
then flying to Milan,
to find my way to El Mirador,
it’s a six day hike from Flores,
this is something that’s calling me,
told you before I’m a traveler not a tourist,
I’m packing my bags,
getting ready for another trip,
my business is straight,
and my 5th book is almost finished,
which gives me a few days to breathe,
to hike into the jungles in respect of the pyramids,
and I was packing my bags and getting everything ready,
when I decided to take a break and step out onto the balcony,
where to my surprise I found a man,
sitting in the dark,
resting in the infinite,
space of time and thought,
and when I discovered him,
he began to speak,
he told me he’d come from Amritsar,
and that he was a Sikh,
Seek and Ye shall find,
so I go with God,
and get back to getting ready,
for my trek to El Mirador.
— ∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆ —
The H Trilogy
Volume 1
7/7/16
∆
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 9:18 PM UTC
Purkyně lux lit lunatics conjure vignettes of geomancy.
There is mischief enchanting the wake: xenophagists fiending tricks.
For invokers, who bathe in moonlight, death is a good nights sleep.
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 1:28 AM UTC
Standing Rock
The pipeline is the bloodline,
of an Empirical Two Headed Dragon,
The Divided States of America used to be united,
can someone please tell me what the heck happened,
Standing Rock just might be the last stand for anyone that’s still standin’,
Standing Rock,
is not a photo op,
it’s not a festival,
it’s Indians and Cops,
more correctly,
it’s Native Americans and Corporate Hitmen,
it’s the crossroads,
where environmental defense intersects with big business interests,
it’s getting intense,
water cannons and flash grenades,
mock democracy and a Trump presidency,
military disguised as cops,
and cops disguised as military,
as the original defenders of this land,
continue to make a stand,
at Standing Rock this is not a photo op,
this is indirect imperial tactics meets Direct Action,
highly ironic,
that I write this on Thanksgiving,
the day before Black Friday,
tell me what you do that’s worth livin’,
Quite fitting,
that I’m writing this on Thanksgiving,
a “holiday” in a way,
but really just a heist by villains disguised as pilgrims,
well then,
where does that leave us now,
several hundred years later,
at Standing Rock having a powwow,
how,
have we gotten here,
and how,
as so little changed we’re,
still in this sticky situation,
battling hearts that are as black as oil,
still ******* the blood out of Mother Earth,
still battling Two Headed Serpent Dragon as it coils,
the pipeline is the bloodline,
of an Empirical Two Headed Dragon,
The Divided States of America used to be united,
can someone please tell me what the heck happened,
Standing Rock just might be the last stand for anyone that’s still standin’.
Defendin’,
the Sacred,
with Love,
over Hatred.
Water Is Life.
∆ Aaron La Lux ∆
www.amazon.com/Aaron-La-Lux/e/B00ODPJAOK
Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 10:47 AM UTC