"pch" poems
Leave your shoes in the car I got the blanket and the keys
Watching stars on a beach there's nothing else we need
Wind in our hair, salt on our lips
Someone take me back to Tower 56
Remember the night of our very first kiss
Driving round town knowing better than the others did
Didn't have a care what anyone would say
Went from you and me to we driving PCH
Apr 15, 2020
Apr 15, 2020 at 9:09 AM UTC
Obscurity and scenery
Stuck on the leather seats
Driving down PCH,
*Camel filter after
Camel Filter*.
So numb inside
“Nothing is worth it anymore”.
The future as a convenient store clerk
Apr 5, 2012
Apr 5, 2012 at 9:53 AM UTC
The winding drive along the sea
I took so many times
to steal away from anarchy
to pacify my mind
The city sirens come undone
before the ocean spray
then down the hill to U.S. 1
and thus begins the day
The Pier receding to the South
Will Rogers to the North
Topanga is the turn we seek
as we are going forth
The starkness of the hills and pines
the rivulet below
as Westward the Pacific shines
beneath the morning glow
The twists and turns I still recall
though roads are better now
no unpaved sections left at all
nor farmland for a cow
No Austin Mini Union Jack
the landmarks too have changed
and I so lost since coming back
I almost feel deranged
The Health Food Store with hitching post
the horses canter past
the countryside I love the most
and visit now at last
But on Mulholland Highway there
surprises lie in wait
there’s razor wire on the fence
and horses at the gate
As giant dishes aiming deep
into a mountain wall
so Orwell’s promise do we keep
applying it to all
But I remember still the day
the hillside turned to fire
the way to turn had burned away
the sky was black with ire
And in a wide spot in the road
in reverence did we stand
a fox, a hare, my dog and I
all watched the burning land
Can nothing make us feel as small
as fire pure and cruel?
to know it as a cunning foe -
to know we’re naught but fuel
But through the smoke a fire truck
led us down on Kanan Dume
toward the cleaner seaward air
away from certain doom
And all at once the trial was o'er
for we had reached the sea
as once Carrillo had before
and now my dog and me
We pass the house of river stone
Moonshadow’s Restaurant
and even Tidepool Gallery
for years my favorite haunt
And back to Santa Monica
on PCH we drive
admiring still the beauty
yet more thankful we’re alive
The winding drive along the sea
I took so many times
to steal away from anarchy
to pacify my mind
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 10:12 PM UTC
Cadilac cars
& black.
fast.
yards
pass
yellow dotted lines
smack
tire
speed.
Curves.
taste the sunset
sweat the sunless years
the graffiti shift. Shock.
boom.
1/4/10
the vroom.
the legend to all
10 boys who will ever
know my name
remember the night
the tight dress of pch
curves
black lacquered love
wet fast wicked unwanted.
black lacquered love
asphalt crumbles to sea
mesmerized & deep
This night belongs 2 me. This night belongs 2 me
Jan 5, 2010
Jan 5, 2010 at 7:11 AM UTC
We’re riding,
feels more like flying,
because this car,
feels more like a spaceship,
used to ride in a hybrid with eyes red,
now I ride a Tesla clean as a whistle,
used to use the pen as a sword,
now I use my laptop as a missile,
sorry I’m not sorry if I missed you,
didn’t intentionally diss you,
just been focused zoning on my poems,
keeping it going with my mind on the mission,
listen,
this is the future,
most are out to lunch better catch up,
this isn’t a **** it sandwich this is blessing dressing,
not an invalid salad but an important portion so pay attention when addressing us,
fck,
trying not to cuss too much,
but what the fck,
sometimes too much isn’t even enough,
probably heard that before,
probably didn’t know that was my line,
see when over a million people have read your words,
your words get rewritten time after time,
rewritten but not bitten see there’s a difference,
and yeah I know that the difference is a line and that line’s fine,
and it’s crossed when the message is lost and the spirit leaves the body,
but it’s not when I hear the words repeated in songs and I know those words are mine,
because when I know other people also know albeit sublimely,
I guess that’s what happens when your work outgrows you,
when you hear words you wrote in songs and quotes,
and it gives you that potent mix of anxiety and adrenaline,
which leads you to speeding by throttling the clutch like a throat,
heading north on America’s most west coast road,
going 100 MPH with no MPG up the PCH,
no MPG because the ride is all electric,
like we are running in this lifelong race,
racin’ with Jaden we ride out to our Topanga hideout,
got a whole 10 acre mountain top up there,
where we go to get ghost when we need to get away from foolish folks,
from their flashing lights Hellish cellphones and all their blank faced phony stares,
riding,
feels more like flying,
because this car,
feels more like a spaceship…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Dec 10, 2017
Dec 10, 2017 at 9:22 AM UTC
a genius metaphor
that displays wit and insight
is more a matter of inspiration
than of the will
I did not experience
the PCH a day removed
if not for the use of a muse
is the sun nothing more
than a mass of flammable gas
or perhaps a nuclear gumball
leisurely crushing the horizon
radiant backlit heavenly body
meets with a pacified body of water
for a consensual coitus
orange and purple
two thirds of
the secondary color wheel collide
panoramic dusk in the rear view
as the moon prepares to mount the sky
gathering waves like a shepherd
lazy tides that vacation on sandy beaches
beaches that conceal mysterious truths
beneath cold infinite grains
tucked inconveniently between my toes
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 12:07 PM UTC
Smokin' THC not *** nor DMT
with an EMT on the PCH
and I'm feeling GREAT
Oh Lord, I won't get the answer tonight
Because the question needs to be right
Not Why, but to know HOW
And that's why I took for a drive...
Smokin' THC not MET, nor OXY
in NYC on a balcony with company
and I've known people to hurt their bodies
Sometimes
and that's why I took for a drive...
So long!
I really got so far
so far from them addicts
Oh Lord, I won't get the answer tonight
Because the question needs to be right
Not WHY
I need to know how...all this time...
searching for why
always been wrong, so long, so far gone
To search for why is what grips the sand
But how will get me to understand
How to Love, and I drive for love
Smokin' THC on the M.I.C.
treated VIP like an MVP
cause I'm singing for Love
Oh Lord, give me the answer tonight
Ganesha, give me a smart place to run
Oh sky, Give me the strength to fly
Jul 13, 2016
Jul 13, 2016 at 5:56 PM UTC
In a mustang driving fast
**** the price of gas
Riding with my guitar
Lets see how far we go
Blasting loud music
Feeling the beat
Go for a ride along the coast pch
Cruising clearing the mind wondering
Hoping thing change
find what I'm looking for
Days are fresh but nights more refreshing
Write and ride freedom and expression
Finish up feeling much better
Getting there going to the place meant to be
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 11:45 PM UTC
it was early, really early on that cliff.
cool air, blue light
our new friend had to go (a busy woman in no rush).
we rolled a joint for her journey home.
our minds were cheeks flushed red and rosy but that was fading now. the sun that had risen just for us
swept slowly over the rest of this place.
began to wonder if she ever cared at all for her private audience. maybe.
but, probably not?
get in the car.
drive.
watch morning commuters swarm the PCH.
it all felt a little funny;
how this was the world, and the people here are so sad.
we giggled. a satirical sort of clarity began to settle.
this isn’t really it.
is it?
no.
maybe?
well, coffee should help.
music was still so beautiful but
now i knew that we could be the only ones hearing it this way.
i hoped that was not true.
pupils shrinking,
the world still rolling slowly but, with a sudden edge.
oh no.
i hope not.
maybe?
i turned towards the driver’s seat.
there, with thick-rimmed sunglasses,
those hands holding a freshly lit cigarette out the window,
you were; exactly the same.
Jan 1, 2022
Jan 1, 2022 at 10:38 PM UTC
I Don't Write Poetry.
I Write the way I Feel.
I Don't follow any Rules.
Except that what I Write is Real.
The Way I Feel Is The Way I Write
And I Do Not Write That Often
But With Her Not Here
I Try To Fill a Void.
Because Sleep Is Scarce , Thoughts are Plenty
And the Keyboard Always Listens.
I Guess I Can say I Miss Her
And That I Can't Wait To See Her
But There is So Much More.
I Can't wait to Fall asleep next to Her
Wherever That May Be.
And Wake Up Next to Her Smile
That always Brings out the Best of Me
I Can't Wait For That First Hug
That Hug That Lasts Forever Yet Still Not Long Enough
I Can't Wait To Tickle Her and Just to Hear Her Laugh
A Laugh That Brings Back Memories of a PCH Hotel Room and A High School Parking Lot and So Many More
I Can't Wait To Have Her Leg to Place My Hand On When I Drive
Most Of All I Can't Wait To Tell Here How Amazing She Really Is
I'm Really Not A Poet,
I'm Really Just A Guy
That Really Misses A Girl
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 1:45 AM UTC
i remember
the summer i turned
nineteen, i drove
all alone
from L.A. to San
Francisco, eighty an
hour and the radio loud.
that was the summer i
met you. it was also
the summer i lost
myself. i remember
your touch, your face, your
green eyes so close
to my honey ones,
i remember
the lights on the highway,
and little else. i remember
sitting in the backseat
of my old Toyota,
drinking bottles of jack
all alone on the PCH every
night with only
the stars
and the scars
for company.
i remember you.
but i've forgotten
who i was.
Oct 12, 2016
Oct 12, 2016 at 5:15 AM UTC
i cannot count the amount of times I've said I love you, to you, it's really funny because, i do not know you, i fell for the way you probed my brain as if there was something of real worth there, i feel for a picture, i fell for pictures, my God, you are beautiful, but that does not change the fact that i spend all my time thinking about you when I'm not talking to you but i do not know you, this is a whole new different type of PCH going on here the words " baby you can be my catfish , lingering on and on and on " this heart? Is a grenade, susceptible to emotion but can easily withdraw from them too. what have i gotten myself into ? this is far from just being another case of my " fear of being alone " this is me digging myself into a hole trying to find China, what have i gotten my heart and mind into now? another broken record, obsession driven **** i have an illness.
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 1:05 AM UTC
I remember the crazy times
we'd travel down south
to the outlaw town of Ensenada.
We'd swing by Hussong's
for some golden elixir
& Mezcal mixers.
It was a fun wild-place,
where having your face
rest in your own *****
was allowed at your table.
I mean nobody gave a ****** about such things.
It was truly a place where anything went,
especially drunkenness.
The last time we visited,
some twenty years ago,
we lost two hitchhikers
we had picked up
in Malibu
on the PCH.
Now years later,
I wonder how,
or if
they ever made it back.
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 5:09 PM UTC
I hate your guts
I never ever loved you
I couldn't stand you stalking me
on my morning run
You're a very bad neighbor
But, I'll never need a gun
Don't need someone so serious
Can't we just have fun
and I say
Bye Bye Angel
Let my silence run
So much fun to be with you
When we were very young
tonight I'll
Cry Cry Angel
For the loss of one
True friend to the very end
If it could be undone
I'd eat your cancer
make it go away
shut the door on that
Too late for wishful thinking now
She never will come back
The brightest spot of the seventies
Is gone forever, jack
so I say
Bye Bye Angel
I'll see you in the sky
When driving up the PCH
I'll look for rainbow smiles
and I say
Bye Bye Angel
I liked that final kiss
It's not the gift that one would wish
But I think I get the gist
Bye Bye Angel
I hope to see you soon
Better to be dead than here
Just wishing on the moon
Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 11:25 AM UTC
Pink Skies
Pch Drives
Sunsets
Green Tea
White Lies
Old Books
You
Same Stories
Peaches and Roof Tops
Her
Faded Gray After Shocks
Me
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 8:42 PM UTC
^^^^^^
/////
I was sitting high on the hill
We had this LAND in the costal range near Santa Cruz
//
( a castle for the ages )
///
In the meditative flow of absolute freedom
///
Then the words of a song by THE BAND
came into my mind
I LOOKED OUT MY WINDOW
TELL ME WHAT DID I SEE ?
I SAW THE GOLDEN CALF
POINTING BACK AT ME
///
the place ( 300 acres ! )
Seemed but a postage stamp as I let my eyes
Drift south along the range to Mexico
//
North thru Canada ( no ! -- up to Alaska! )
Out over the Pacific
Up thru the Cosmos
/::/
I got up and descended the hill
Out to PCH 1
And hitch- hiked Berkeley
and the smog
And the congestion
And the people
And I asked for forgiveness
And that again I might be human
And that the years might flow
And that GOOD might come
AND THEY SAID
sure brother !
You're always welcome
and here I am
Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 5:20 PM UTC
Lemon VW Beetle
Pink and green Polo shirt seatcovers
Hippie flowers and surf shop stickers
And her Confirmation Rosary
glimmering in the fading light
She waves
“Call you later.”
The sunset is beautiful
PCH is busy this time of day
Surfers, commuters, tourists
and local kids, like us,
going our own ways
The sunset is beautiful.
Sirens pierce the twilight calm
There are conflicting reports
But
All include the words
Rollover. Ejected. Fatality.
Through my tears
I stare at the ocean
The sunset is beautiful
Feb 4, 2020
Feb 4, 2020 at 10:52 AM UTC