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Michael Chandler Nov 2014
I gave you a ruby for your eyes
And diamonds to brush against your skin
I had the people bow down to you
They fed you roses, showered you with respect, And prayed for your health before going to sleep

But I can only shown you the throne
In your mind and heart must you sit and share this wealth.
In my mind you left nothing but dust
And dirt in which I cannot grow from

In my mind I can only hold your memory
And the promises that sounded so sweet to my ears But was only vibrations in reality

As king I cannot promise you that my walls will never crumble.
That my armour is made of gold
And that thyself is just as pure
i asked of you to feel the rhythm of your heart but all you could feel was the shine from my movado.
Aaron LaLux Feb 2020
So far gone,
leaving behind spent jet fuel & jeweled remnants of memories,
on a plane in the 3rd dimension sitting 1st class,
with a world class American Top Model chilling next to me,

gazing out the soft edged rectangular window to my left,
then over to the soft edged Coke bottle model to my right,
which is better I’m confused as to which view I should choose,
both views are cool highly prized self-realized & undefinable,

on a roll so after we change countries to change the weather,
we change clothes to match the country we’re adaptable,
not conditioned to air conditioners we prefer air that’s natural,
our connects are reliable, specs are viable, facts are verifiable,

always well equipped even though we pack light when traveling, must face facts ‘cause we’re verified & the truth’s undeniable,

so we choose to accept this life without a fight,
what film’s on the inflight entertainment tonight,
100s of options to select from hope I choose right,
I pick a good flick to watch with this chic as I wet my appetite,

dinner served soon what’s on the menu this time,
King Salmon arugula salad champagne & cloth napkins,
think we’ll eat & see a film starring one of my best friends,
he’s one of the leads in the film playing one of the X-Men,

my future has passed, been gone since way back when,
I went from hustling on pavements & cuddling in basements,
to my name on gracious invitations to amazing celebrations,
& obtaining the latest coveted creations of our generation,
placement upgraded I now lay in a place that is spacious,

on the top floor of a proper loft with views of the harbor,
not a golfer I don’t golf I find sports outrageous,
no jokes I’m sinking ***** in 3 strokes on Par-4s,
making cut shots not taking gut shots from Haters,

no mugshots the hate must stop success is an art form,
I work around the clock so I deserve this spacious hiatus,
hitting Top Flights with wise guys on Trump’s golf course,
hole in one I’m a Golden Son like Nick Cannon’s kid is,

terms of endearment rules of engagement **** with honor,
tears shed in statements still sad but thank God we made it,

out of the streets & into the seats of private choppers,

we’re done with the stress thanks to blessed chess moves,
we get offered so many options that it’s tough to choose,
flying through the friendly skies First Class,
as beautiful Goddesses like Venus & powerful Gods like Zeus,

we just hold on to sworn untolds & let everything else go,
until our wills give up our bodies fold & we’re cremated,
only thing that hasn’t changed since we’ve made it,
is the bond of our word so you’ll never hear convos restated,

we keep secrets that will never to be repeated ,
we run a tight ship no loose lips or leaks we keep our word,
just saying no statements just lots of amens & payments,
we’ll neither confirm nor deny those rumors that you heard,

most great men make no statements or engage slow agents,
they just make moves & arrangements in Asia like Statesmen,

we go off like the Mossad,
got those that **** caught off guard in a fictitious fog,
so lost they even begin to question our very existence,
no eyewitness our plots are so efficient they can’t see the ball,

suspicious citizens fishin’ for sufficient evidence,
dragging nets coming up empty they get nothing at all,
reporters on a mission to get headlines for the Sunday edition,
but I’ve seen things believe me they don’t want to get involved,

all star star crossed lovers,
all scars dressed in cross colors,
on Heaven’s Cloud 9 hovering in a helicopter,
surfing my brainwaves on a Rusty board as thoughts hover,

he’ll adopt her,
if she’s mean as the streets are still somehow nice & proper,
a marvelous heart stopper, with a solid heart beat bopper,
but if she acts up he won’t hesitate in a heart beat to drop her,
because the mean streets will always be his first lover,

so sick with the business he might need a doctor,
so far gone one what weighs him down isn’t worth the bother,
so far gone on a level so far beyond him that he’s honored,
with the type of resolve that gets all problems solved,
& a secret sauce along with a special recipe that conquers,

upwards & onwards,
a walking palindrome pantomime,
walking backwards I act out words,
& any friend of freedom is a friend of mine that’s a given,
I see the future live in the moment then kick back afterwards,

on a plane in the 3rd dimension sitting 1st class,
with a world class American Top Model chilling next to me,
rolling feeling high expressing these blessings in total bliss,
naturally high no cigarettes no alcohol no ******* no ecstasy,
finally “Free at last, free at last, Thank God almighty!”,

we are free at last celebrating like Martin Luther King,
Living the Dream in the fast lane spending Johnny Cash,
in the Fast Lane don’t plan to plane crash so I fly carefully,

Walking The Line,

I’m,
doing fine,
so far gone,

I’m,
a bottom of the 9th,
down by one runner on Home Run,

I’m,
outta here,
en route to a beach,
outta of range & outta reach,
a place where the photogs can’t peek,
not hiding just finding a place we can shine like diamonds,
an island with vibes like the water,
clean crystal clear & stylish,
where we can fully relax,
at ease without fear,
together,
here,

20/20 vision,
so my decisions like my vision are always crystal clear,
crystal clean missiles scream through the star lit night sky,
with a Starlet don’t startle us or confuse our caution as fear,

don’t mistake kindness for weakness & try to take advantage,
or it’ll be “Nice try nice guy, you lose dude maybe next time.”,
no good guys just bad boys living the Good Life,
bad boys with good hearts Tom cruising through Vanilla Sky,

in the air experiencing experiences on the fly,
only spent jet fuel & remnants of memories left behind,
have everything ahead of me, just had to get lost to find,
truth is everything I ever said, all good things in all good time,

see, I’m so far gone, my sweat smells like sweet success,
living my best life, an American Dream in the flesh,
School of Hard Knocks did all my homework took no recess,
now it’s all recess allow me the luxury to reminisce & digress,

if you know how to read between the lines,
then there’s no need for a Reader’s Digest,

if you really what to know I let wealth get to know me,
I don’t work for the money the money works for me,
money doesn’t make the man man makes the money,
if you really want to get things done gotta do it on your lonely,

& when you finally get an opportunity to taste The Good Life,
don’t waste it savor it gently & take it slowly,
enjoy it while you can when you get the chance,
before it’s gone like I am on to the next one & only,

close The Book chapter’s finished on to Destiny’s next story,
done with this dissertation on all The Good Life’s temptations,
where seduction done through Life’s luxuries was my specialty,
had my fun now it’s on to the next one, next destination,

leave this life behind & let my actions & words speak for me,
which is why I leave behind these words as my literary legacy,
see truthfully I’m already so far gone,
leaving behind spent jet fuel & jeweled remnants of memories,

on a plane in the 3rd dimension sitting 1st class,
with a world class American Top Model chilling next to me,
full throttle on time like Movado, all shine no bravado,
I swim in more waves than the Royal Navy,

“living la vida loca” no Ricky Martin, my life & my love’s crazy,
gazing lazily out the soft edged window to the left of me,

then over to the soft edged coke bottle model to my right,
if every man’s an island I’m an archipelago & the architect,
Living Artifact, Futuristic Apostle Fossil, Prophetic Autograph,
I collect art & checks such a crazy life I need my head checked,

fossil fuels burn on strong, along with my memories,
so long I’m gone have been for centuries, so far gone,
so when they mention the greats, guaranteed they mention me, remembered in words & songs so the lessons can carry on,

so gone leaving behind only jet fuel & remnants of memories,
because just like now when the end comes I’ll also be gone,
only came here in the first place because they sent for me,
so when I go I will wish you well with a “So long & carry on!”.

So far gone,

on a one way flight with no carry ons,
leaving behind spent jet fuel & jeweled remnants of memories,
on a plane in the 3rd dimension sitting 1st class,
with a world class American Top Model chilling next to me...

Δ LaLux Δ

IG: @adreamerinthematrix
From The HH Trilogy Volume 3: Dark Lights & Bright Shadows; by Aaron LaLux
Andrew T Aug 2016
Fairfax Station’s socialite, a trustfundee
Still hallucinates on a lone hammock
In her penthouse.
Her ex-idols still burn the light green foliage
From the Tree of Experience. Her sister’s a screenwriter
Who lives near downtown in a cobwebbed basement.
Each morning she composes a page of dialogue. Usually
There the fragments of yesterday’s conversations
With an insomniac. She is the turned page
In a worn storybook.

Her shutter snaps mental photographs
Through a blurred lens. The girls’ father
Is a patient in an asylum, in his leisure, he treads
Water in a soiled bedpan. Psychotherapy and straightjackets
Cannot restrain his work ethic for Art. Before his admittance
To the institution, in his studio, on a giant canvass
He painted the green youth that struggles to
Grow in an elementary school. The socialite is undeclared
In her major. Unsure of faith leaping.

Remains pessimistic at charity functions. Vast
Auditoriums with smudged tablecloth. She’s accompanied
By an entourage of underdeveloped emotions.
On occasion she side glances from a hand mirror
At a potential love interest. It’s too soon.
The spring is a late bloomer, blue frost clings
To the edges of grass blades. At a coffee shop on
The corner of Main and North Harrison Street,
The screenwriter raps away at her laptop; talking
To herself.

Her coffee foams at the mouth with expired cream.
A welcomed patron to this local getaway;
This is where her father used to read her articles
From the Washington Post. He nearly hanged himself
After the car accident. His wife’s body smashed
Halfway through a windshield. Around his wrist
Is the Movado, she gave him for their anniversary.
For months now, for an hour before night class,
Our writer opens up her treasure chest of demons
To a word document.

She’s almost thirty. The divorce took her strength,
Along with her two legacies. Yesteryear, or
Was it the day before yesteryear? The talented
Family met at a Hibachi restaurant. They had a
Gift card to use. It was a day after the funeral; there black
Clothes were wrinkled, just a bit. Napkins lay
Folded over their laps. Silverware untouched.
Hot bowls of miso soup grew cold. Visits to
The bathroom were common. Tsnumai of
Mixed emotions: trickled, flooded, filled there eyes.

The foreign chef noticed their mood, he
Could only offer body language. In the air
Swan eggs were cracked into two halves.
The yolk sizzled on the aluminum surface.
Fire soared from an onion volcano. Mouths
Watered, and eyes were parched. Kobe steak,
Grilled vegetables, juicy chicken, fried rice.
They chewed their food with shut mouths
And gutwrenched eyes. They sat and ate
Until every last morsel disappeared.

Over her balcony, she leans on the railing
Of her loft. Ashtray spills Marlboro’s remains
That plummet onto a city of funny people.
She can’t use humor as a defensive mechanism,
Why should she? Her credit card is her alcohol.
Her eyes daydream of elevators
And clothing stores. She lays out in
Her hammock, wondering why an automobile
Had to be the antagonist.
They all live above the billboards, below the heavens.
Michael Chandler Dec 2014
The sun on my wrist
Tells me time is for consideration
you can chop it up, display it
Be here, be there, till it matters

When my Movado shines
in her eyes like a dream
Does she care about the time?
Or the gold and sliver around it
RobbieG Dec 2021
I tried
really freaking hard
tongue tied
no reply
Looooong sighhhhh
brain fried
emotions discard
to the side
soul died
problems pryed
whyyyy God whyyyyy
I quit
throw the towel in
straight lit
burned wick
both sides
feelings hide
no room to sit down
heart lied
Im tired
fired up
sirens ruuuuun
I'm done
nine one one
collapsed lungs
life stung, brung
hung subconscious
abnoxious mindset
gifted talent
captive to flesh
I'm not who I am
befriend reflections
selections made
parts played
patterns stayed
when will I feel
okaaaay saaaaay
sooooon pleeeease
hellp deal, steal me
awaaaay, todaaaay
this isn't a game
regain trainwreck
breathing becoming
difficult, hurting
flirting with death
chest caved in
slaved to
past pain
insane within this
membrane...laaaaaame
saaaaame, aaaage old
situations, validations
never appearing promising
pinky swear mixed with glares cares go unnoticed
clouded with distortion
darkness stares
fares piling up
tolls avoided
polls divided
anger subsidized
privatized issues
tissues  by the box full
absorbing alcohol
leaving dryness from
lack of softness
this is a mess
where's bounty
quicker picker upper
pieces shattered
heart splattered
eyeliner upside down
war paint
this kind, this mind
of mine, not for the
faaaaaaaint, aaaaaint
you feeling better
from my ugly treasure
no map necessary
these valuables planted
at my feet, repeat, download
discrete ***** matter
scatter this out, doubt
trapped inside and out
leave this world
in a body bag
blood fills up
the well to hell
your asking to much
for your soul
reeeeetreeeeat, defeeeeeat
no compete clause
floss the debris
these traumatic non-diplomatic, sporadic, hypnotic, anti-value, shattered glass.....moral compass, failure to launch, trigger pulled grenade.....explode
ticking time bomb
threats, let's set this off
battles scatter, wars pour
from the door
knock hard
go away, today now, gone
not not double negative these words fumbling from a fragile brain, train the waves never to leave the bubble, keep them coming, stop running in the hall, tall mental strain, short fuse, trapped abuse, hung from the nooose...traveling by caboooooose looooose the
attituuuuude, duuuuuude
rude , quiet down, riot stuck
no luck , inside voice now, how laaaaaame, taaaaame
yourselfffffff, helllllllllp meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
screeeeeeeeeeeeeam
meeeeeeeeeeeeean
gleeee­eeeeeeeam
but don't shine
bright, light ignite
charcoals refuse
infuse substance abuse
now that's a flame
comfort warms
comfort warns
delay of reaction
two hour delay
recess school's out
I learned all the **** they didn't teach me THE HARD WAY
literally fade the black cascade , fake brovado
middle class movado
bravo , he go round and round, rodeo , big steer, lightyears ahead, bread, loafs of lacked love, feast on these carbs, toast, spread , peanut butter jelly time, slime , lime placed on the rim, keep em coming , I'm fuming at the ears , fears, peers not had, relatable a false illusion to bitter for babysitter to keep an eye on , funded friendship for future fam, **** this is alot of slots to fill up with cots of thoughts sleeping ....laid to rest, r.i.p this minute in 61 seconds it'll be over , can't stop the world from turning but can leave it for good, rocket juice, who's coming with , plastic tubes room temperature placed in a freezer box once but now removed , melting cheer to frowns just look in the mirror ! MAN DOWN
Christopher Jan 2021
I have a watch.
Movado with Roman dial, gold plating and a coffee-brown alligator grain leather band.

I have a pen.
Ballpoint with black ink, thin handle and a rosewood finish.

I have a notebook.
Moleskin with a leather bind, black cover and classically lined.

These things never change themselves.
Yet,
still they find a way to change me.

— The End —