"periodicals" poems
It took,
one of the most beautiful sunsets,
I’ve ever seen in my life,
to get me to write again,
I’ve been taking a sabbatical from personal periodicals,
not that it was premeditated,
it was or rather is,
that I hadn’t felt motivated,
still don’t really feel inspired,
even after such a beautiful sunset,
which I watched from seat 1A,
in the front row of an aircraft,
another First Class flight,
this one shorter than most,
SFO to LAX,
been around the world but still I rep Westcoast,
the girl next to me missed the whole thing,
she was and is still fast asleep,
but the guy across from me saw it,
probably the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen,
see he’s a Navy Seal,
so I guess I don’t really know,
the Lord and He,
are the only ones that know what he’s seen,
at any rate the sunset was beautiful,
like I said one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen,
missed the first half because my view was blocked,
by a gay couple and their cell phone screens,
jeez,
can’t we ever just have a moment with Beauty,
without having to feel like we have to capture it,
why is it the first thing most people think when they see something beautifull,
is “Oh yeah I should take a picture of this!”,
and then their interest usually only last,
as long as it takes to take that photo,
then they go back to doing whatever they were doing,
before they were interrupted with something so beautiful,
but I’ll take a Beautiful Interruption before a Mundane Day any day,
I’ve always been one for the inspiration that comes with impromptu moments,
I’ve learned to Love unconditionally Beauty in the instantaneous moments Beauty exists,
I’ve learned to be able to appreciate something without having to have the urge to own it,
lost a lat of Love before I learned that lesson,
but better late than never,
so now I write these memoirs,
to help us all act better,
because there’s always room to improve,
and that’s whey I stretch out in my yoga practice,
take moments to meditate and put it all in perspective,
because that’s the only way to stay balanced in a world off it’s axis,
see the US government shutdown today,
January 20th 2018,
and here I am on plane flying 1st class,
from San Francisco to Los Angeles,
and even though,
it’s only an hour long flight,
it was day when we took off,
and now we’re about to land and it’s night,
amazing how much can change in an hour,
sometimes an hour can change a whole life,
and I’m reminded of all of this on this airplane,
as I gaze amazed at an amazing site,
that of one of,
the most beautiful sunsets I’ve ever seen in my life,
it took,
one of the most beautiful sunsets,
I’ve ever seen in my life,
to get me to write again,
I’ve been taking a sabbatical from personal periodicals,
not that it was premeditated,
it was or rather is,
that I hadn’t felt motivated,
still don’t really feel inspired,
even after such a beautiful sunset,
which I watched from seat 1A,
in the front row of an aircraft,
another First Class flight,
this one shorter than most,
SFO to LAX,
been around the world but still I rep Westcoast…
∆ LaLux ∆
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 9:33 PM UTC
It had been told the boy was old and wise before his time
his locks they say were peppered gray though he was only nine
he grew to be a prodigy, read every book he could
but played as hard out in the yard, this was his childhood.
His skin is fair and freckled, with eyes of grayish green
sometimes they are bespeckled but the clearest ones i've seen
he stared me down the sidewalk and I thought that I would melt
but never told him anything about the thing I felt
I met him then, at seventeen and just a budding rose
much less the height and weight he is but that's just how it goes
I got to know this gentle dude who goes without a sock
the King of Conversation, he's the baddest on the block
He made the grade without the aid of study hall Morrone
Lo and behold God broke the mold, he had a funny bone
but rarely let it out, his quiet kind of fun
his friends will vouch he loves the couch, it's where his nappin's done
Well he's somewhat into music, saw the movie, read the book
periodicals take floorspace while his CDs line the nook,
Lisk ain't into artwork, window treatments, floors or walls,
it's Thanksgiving over Christmas, can't be bothered decking halls
The only one I've ever met who can make me laugh and cry
all in the same moment though I really can't say why
but when I was just seventeen, he turned the big "eight oh"
i wished that I could be around to watch that old man grow.
it's my first cold of the season and my last poem of the year
and though I sit here sneezin', there's nothing we should fear
and I know that he will love this, and he may just shed a tear,
so let's toast, a swig of Lisky and God Bless the coming year!
Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 10:54 PM UTC
The polychromatic features of my mind are shining
as the white light hits my eyes
Bright colors bursts and burns wholes in the black and white images I used to keep, burning the old periodicals of my past life,
I cease to see the enriching shades of many colors,
like shades blocking rays from the sun,
the colors become an image of my soul,
a beautiful painting, mounted on a wall, never to move or fall,
only to be posted up at a famous museum for people to stare and criticize,
then theres that one person who looks upon and hopes to buy
but a price for this piece could be priceless
a painting at ease in time, with colors essential to mankind.
Color blind like dogs, to the them images are colorless
No room for peace or an open mind.
A person dripped in black tears falling from eyes of false hope.
Hopelessness becomes the very thing I use to cope.
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 8:28 PM UTC
In auburn the sun fell.
In crimson she rose again.
As a gift of entrancing love.
My flowers overt, with inverted bells.
An infusion of Lila , green and white.
The spring sprung forth from earth so deep.
Leaving winter doth but weep.
A scene from seasons.
Of row boats and true love.
Of coffee with cream.
Photographs on front covers of many magazines.
Periodicals they speak.
Peace descends amidst those flowers.
Many more hours.
Sun hats and short sleeves.
Mystically weaving.
Gossamer strings,
Such pretty things.
(c)LIVVI
Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 9:59 AM UTC
It took,
one of the most beautiful sunsets,
I’ve ever seen in my life,
to get me to write again,
I’ve been taking a sabbatical from personal periodicals,
not that it was premeditated,
it was or rather is,
that I hadn’t felt motivated,
still don’t really feel inspired,
even after such a beautiful sunset,
which I watched from seat 1A,
in the front row of an aircraft,
another First Class flight,
this one shorter than most,
SFO to LAX,
been around the world but still I rep Westcoast,
the girl next to me missed the whole thing,
she was and is still fast asleep,
but the guy across from me saw it,
probably the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen,
see he’s a Navy Seal,
so I guess I don’t really know,
the Lord and He,
are the only ones that know what he’s seen,
at any rate the sunset was beautiful,
like I said one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen,
missed the first half because my view was blocked,
by a gay couple and their cell phone screens,
jeez,
can’t we ever just have a moment with Beauty,
without having to feel like we have to capture it,
why is it the first thing most people think when they see something beautifull,
is “Oh yeah I should take a picture of this!”,
and then their interest usually only last,
as long as it takes to take that photo,
then they go back to doing whatever they were doing,
before they were interrupted with something so beautiful,
but I’ll take a Beautiful Interruption before a Mundane Day any day,
I’ve always been one for the inspiration that comes with impromptu moments,
I’ve learned to Love unconditionally Beauty in the instantaneous moments Beauty exists,
I’ve learned to be able to appreciate something without having to have the urge to own it,
lost a lat of Love before I learned that lesson,
but better late than never,
so now I write these memoirs,
to help us all act better,
because there’s always room to improve,
and that’s whey I stretch out in my yoga practice,
take moments to meditate and put it all in perspective,
because that’s the only way to stay balanced in a world off it’s axis,
see the US government shutdown today,
January 20th 2018,
and here I am on plane flying 1st class,
from San Francisco to Los Angeles,
and even though,
it’s only an hour long flight,
it was day when we took off,
and now we’re about to land and it’s night,
amazing how much can change in an hour,
sometimes an hour can change a whole life,
and I’m reminded of all of this on this airplane,
as I gaze amazed at an amazing site,
that of one of,
the most beautiful sunsets I’ve ever seen in my life,
it took,
one of the most beautiful sunsets,
I’ve ever seen in my life,
to get me to write again,
I’ve been taking a sabbatical from personal periodicals,
not that it was premeditated,
it was or rather is,
that I hadn’t felt motivated,
still don’t really feel inspired,
even after such a beautiful sunset,
which I watched from seat 1A,
in the front row of an aircraft,
another First Class flight,
this one shorter than most,
SFO to LAX,
been around the world but still I rep Westcoast…
∆ LaLux ∆
New Book Available FREE Worldwide Here: www.scribd.com/document/367036005
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 10:28 PM UTC
Perhaps they were right putting love into books.
Perhaps it could not live anywhere else.
— William Faulkner
Faulkner said that maybe love
cannot live outside of libraries
If his assessment is accurate
then I want to pen our passion
on every piece of paper I possess
I will produce poetry proclaiming
the severity of our seductions
And scribble you and I between
asterisks on the pages of periodicals
so we can be among the stars as well
Darling, I will turn all of our dates
into diary entries and change the
definitions for words like brilliance and
glorious into descriptions of us
When I’m through, we will
have the most eternal
love stories around
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 5:09 PM UTC
The rails scream in the darkness
Sparking, lambent bulbs trace starlight behind tinted glass
No words, just motionless exhibition of man
Child
The shrill yapping of a terrified pup
Ears plugged from the disastrous din of metal rubbing against itself
The train flies through an evacuated tube pressed beneath the innumerable water column
And it is deafening.
Behind us the gentle shipyards, ahead the recipient city
Waiting to drink up our wallets and time with her promiscuous streets
As she bends her towering legs to the ironically Chinese
Barge
Blowing its baritone warning flutes
As it tugs itself upon her Bays.
I am reading the book, seeing the Brothers through the din, in between the two cities
The two unhappinesses
and the creatures they identify with
It is a giant artifact,
the tube
It protrudes through
The ships
She sunk and constructed
Market, Mission, Pier, a swamp of concrete
Over the dried clump of trees
A thousand bits of Theseus
And the abandoned bones of thirsting men
Running east, towards Pittsburg
Richmond
Warm Springs
The line is soft between these rusting zones
And the gold
Forgotten for silicone
I am reading a book
About brothers and the curse of stone
Sharing stares with dirogenous hobos
And girl's pupils
feasting on bodies hidden behind periodicals
The rails scream in protest
The railcars are turning up and out
Towards the end of the darkness
And the start of the largeness
The city waits to list her failures to me
To cry herself to sleep with raindrops of fog
And rasping breaths of breeze.
Jun 18, 2019
Jun 18, 2019 at 5:17 PM UTC