"runaway" poems
for leather accrues
The miracle of the streets
The scents & smogs &
pollens of existence
Shiny blackness
so totally naked she was
Totally un-hung-up
We looked around
lights now on
Top see our fellow travellers
~~~
I am troubled
Immeasurably
By your eyes
I am struck
By the feather
of your soft
Reply
The sound of glass
Speaks quick
Disdain
And conceals
What your eyes fight
To explain
~~~
She looked so sad in sleep
Like a friendly hand
just out of reach
A candle stranded on
a beach
While the sun sinks low
an H-bomb in reverse
~~~
Everything human
is leaving
her face
Soon she will disappear
into the calm
vegetable
morass
Stay!
My Wild Love!
~~~
I get my best ideas when the
telephone rings & rings. It’s no fun
To feel like a fool-when your
baby’s gone. A new ax to my head:
Possession. I create my own sword
of Damascus. I’ve done nothing w/time.
A little tot prancing the boards playing
w/Revolution. When out there the
World awaits & abounds w/heavy gangs
of murderers & real madmen. Hanging
from windows as if to say: I’m bold-
do you love me? Just for tonight.
A One Night Stand. A dog howls & whines
at the glass sliding door (why can’t I
be in there?) A cat yowls. A car engine
revs & races against the grain- dry
rasping carbon protest. I put the book
down- & begin my own book.
Love for the fat girl.
When will SHE get here?
~~~
In the gloom
In the shady living room
where we lived & died
& laughed & cried
& the pride of our relationship
took hold that summer
What a trip
To hold your hand
& tell the cops
you’re not 16
no runaway
The wino left a little in
the old blue desert
bottle
Cattle skulls
the cliche of rats
who skim the trees
in search of fat
Hip children invade the grounds
& sleep in the wet grass
’til the dogs rush out
I’m going South!
40.3k
There's something deeply satisfying
In decimating a piece of runaway tissue
With a healthy jet of ****
I stand towering above it
As it clings stealthily to the ceramics
And
cackle
as
I
reduce
it
to
mush.
It bleeds yellow.
I feel no remorse.
Perhaps that's why
If the world were ruled by women
There'd be less war.
Dec 30, 2011
Dec 30, 2011 at 7:16 PM UTC
She’s got scars on her legs,
calls them battle wounds,
I’ve got the music up way to loud,
so loud we can’t hear our thoughts,
city lights provide the background,
as we lose control and make love,
doing anything to feel anything,
because it’s 2018 and it feels like no one gives a fck,
so we fck,
and after it's said and done she says,
“I don’t usually do this.”,
yeah well we often do things we don’t usually do,
no road home and no rules,
no control no lines no tolls,
keep knocking and you can come in,
but no one’s home,
what’s going on up there,
how can you be so terrifyingly beautiful,
why are you armed with such a stare,
I know you’re a weapon but what do you use it for,
armed to the teeth no bark all bite,
I say she’s a unicorn she says she’s a vampire,
and I don’t fall in love but with this one I just might,
because we better express ourselves before we expire,
got burned from her fire,
but it hurt so good,
like those cuts that we inflicted onto each other,
feeling erratic I guess blame it on the mood,
always ready to talk about anything except the truth,
she says she only lied to me once,
and that was about not liking Ethiopian food,
and I pretend to care but honestly don’t know if I give a fck,
what the fck,
I’m drunk,
and I don’t usually drink,
but I often do things I don’t usually do,
and I don’t mean to be rude,
but I’m not sure I love you,
because even if I did,
I’m not sure it’d matter to you so what’s the use,
you want the truth,
the truth is we’re born alone and we die alone,
and in the middle is where I found you,
and for a moment this runaway thought he'd found a home,
and I wanted us to stay forever in that moment,
laying there naked in each other’s arms,
but you were insecure and covered yourself back up,
because you didn’t want me to see your scars,
you’ve got scars on her legs,
calls them battle wounds,
I’ve got the music up way to loud,
so loud we can’t hear our thoughts,
city lights provide the background,
as we lose control and make love,
doing anything to feel anything,
because it’s 2018 and it feels like no one gives a fck...
∆ LaLux ∆
Melbourne, Australia
October 2018
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 10:10 AM UTC
Can you feel it
Shh, allow the galaxy to pamper your body, blanket the essence of your mind, bit-by-bit
Travel on a higher awareness to understand the galaxy’s gentle gift
Close your eyes and allow your mind to softly drift
Soft Moonlight Dust
Illuminating the night skies, given warmth of its inner trust
Centered in the sky, a star abates for its enlighten ******
Kindred minds to enrapture, as souls physically adjust
So gentle, as a touch to the skin
An inner space to conquer, there an exploring craving begins
Awareness of self stirring into the constellation
Bodies attuned beyond the stretch of imagination
Savoring on the flavor of the alignment sweeten taste
Desires igniting an inferno, the heat of its flames refusing to wait
Overheated friction surrendering without debates
Runaway yearning weakening in the presence of fate
The ecstasy of the moonlight’s dust felt, abiding to the crack of dawn
Emotions of the elixir slowly withdrawn
A Cheshire moonrise
Always a sacred communion given in surprise
Masked feelings hidden behind the stars in our eyes
Sprinkles of pixie dust as the moon becomes full
Paired upon, as lace meets wool
Interwoven and tenderly spun on a galactic spool
Stars In Exile
Twinkling for eyes to glimpse beyond the earth’s smile
Canopus to Antares, oh how you make me shine
Closing my eyes, coveting your point as I’m making you mine
Settled and glittering as small diamonds binding in the sky
A wondrous elopement to experience in the blink of an eye
Soft whispers to the ones that shoot right before they fall
Such a beautiful and breathlessly cadence to wish under them all
The Gift Of The Sun’s Stroke
Umm, shooting stars kept me awoke
Relentless bodies bathing under the moon
Caresses, touches, entwined souls echoing the note of its weakening tunes
Sweeter and sweeter, deeper and deeper
Bodies fueled, hot as a heater, bodies climbing steeper and steeper
Heat consumes the interior of the temple
Sweat of life, as movements come together and then disassemble
Elated, sedated, dipping in a cool blue lagoon
Kisses under the sun on a beautiful afternoon
Temperatures rising not a moment too soon
June slamming into summer’s heat
A merriment of a sun stroke basking in the glorious feast
The galaxy and its spicy passion
A gift to the world to enjoy in any unbridled fashion
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 1:17 PM UTC
He fell in love with a walking hurricane
Putting a face to heartache as a name
She had a war going on inside her brain
She never knew that he'd love her all the same
'Cause fractured pieces
Can still make art
And wine will never cure a mistake
But choker chains
Made out of self restraints
Were worn by this runaway train
She was a runaway train
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 9:46 AM UTC
To the deadbeat I hate to call my father,
I can’t say I hate you, for I would be hating myself.
You walked out of my life when I was four,
Yet came back a decade later asking me to ignore what you put me through,
Asking me to put the past on the highest shelf
Of my metaphorical closet.
I did as you asked, thinking this time around things would be different.
For a year I was overjoyed, you put me before yourself
But as the saying goes, what goes up must come down,
And your façade began to crumble.
Slowly but surely my calls went to voicemail,
My texts were never received,
Our plans rain checked for another day that never came.
I told you it was okay.
I was afraid telling you my feelings would make you runaway.
My anger was taken out on the woman that you hurt
My anger was taken out on the woman you cheated on and abused.
All the horrible things I wanted to say to you, I said to her instead.
My mother, the only parent I truly have, began to call you too.
Everyday, her and I would fight, trying to figure out what to do.
Well I’ve decided I’ve had enough.
You are not a man.
You are unfit to be a father.
You choose your own happiness over mine.
You say I asked for a lot-
When all I wanted was to catch up.
Ten years is a large gap.
I know I’ll see you at family gatherings,
I know I’ll have to deal with you eventually.
But I refuse to be fooled by you again.
You are a coward.
You have three daughters that need their father.
Two of them refer to their step-dad as their only dad.
I unfortunately do not have that luxury for my step father is a lot like you.
They say ignorance is bliss, but that is not the case.
You’ve hurt me too many times and there is no one to blame but myself.
I let you back in.
I listened to your lies.
From now on, I will not hide this problem on that metaphorical shelf.
You are the issue.
I am done with you.
I cannot hate you, as I said before.
Half of me is you.
But half of me is my mother.
The half that is kind and strong and knows when to move on.
I know you’ll want to be a part of my life again, but you’ll be too late.
I thought I needed my father, but I have enough people in my life to fill that role.
You are irrelevant to me.
I do not need you now.
I will not need you later.
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 10:33 PM UTC
You were once the greatest thing that ever happened to me
and now you are just thrown in the back of my mind.
Now you're just scattered memories.
I was always afraid of changing.
I was never made to do this because
my life revolved around you.
But life does keep going.
As you decide to jump off this runaway train,
leaving me in the dust left to rust.
Leaving these grounds to become a beautiful flaming light in the darkness.
Every night I would look into the sky and talk to you,
telling you that life does keep going on
but it's making me sick, love.
But in the morning I will awake and rise from the ground
not knowing how to walk properly again.
But I'll find enough strength to walk to your resting place
and find peace in it and slow down in this race.
But I gave you all I had
and now I have nothing left to hold
I took all my love and spread it across your wild footprints
and grave, like ashes, to let it sink down into you once again.
We all get older.
We all lose things.
Life doesn't stop
and I have never
felt more alone,
but time continues
and the days go on.
But not a day goes by that I forget you
because I never dreamed of meeting someone like you,
but now you're just a memory
in the back of my mind.
Oh, the tragedy I have seen,
leaving my eyes burnt out.
"Please don't be dead."
I repeat countless times to your stone,
to the sky, to the heavenly stars that shine so bright
leaving the darkness in the pity shadows.
"Do this for me please."
"Just one more miracle."
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 8:40 PM UTC
Her soul is tired now
and all she ever wanted to do was
calming her crowded mind
and resting her heavy heart
Her soul is tired now
and the only path she’d go through
was no longer runaway full of eyes
but an empty and quiet hallways
Her soul is tired now
and the dreams are no longer dreams,
they became possessions and hunger
that consumes her alive
Her soul is tired now
as the passion slowly fades away
and the flame in her eyes began to vanish
can’t you feel the absence of her warmth?
Jan 28, 2018
Jan 28, 2018 at 7:57 PM UTC
Success was a yellow brick road
Hope was a star in the sky
Grief was a runaway dog
Maturity was knowing it died
Joy was a chocolate bar
And Escape just meant to run far
Then somewhere along the way
Everything began to change
The yellow brick road was too long
The star in the sky was too far
And when the dog died it was sad
(but mostly cuz you drove the car)
The candy was not on our diet
And you can't escape who you are
Why did we decide to grow?
That much I'll never know
Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 9:59 PM UTC
The midnight sun is heading north
These bags are packed with dreams
and the memories of who I’ve been;
To scatter forth like gathered seeds
on fallow hope,
strewn at the mercy of the winds
The genesis of spring unravels
the knotted darkness
Another winter’s aftermath
hidden back on the back shelf
The distance between back then
and now, is widening
each Dawn to Dusk
A gust of sunlight
plashes ripples
across the still waters
of depthless peace
and,
my hands are no longer tied
behind my back
by winter's grasp
Seasons oft do change
perennial as the tides
But I don’t want to see
another ocean runaway;
I don’t want to know how
another fleeting moment
ends
Jesse Stillwater
Apr 7, 2018
Apr 7, 2018 at 5:56 PM UTC
Come with me, lets runaway darling.
Let's get out of this old town,
& see what comes our way.
Grab nothing princess, let us just go.
Our whole world is a show.
We can fall in love in Paris,
or roam the streets in Venice.
We'll sleep in the hills of Tennessee,
& wake up & see the sun in your eyes.
Come & run away with me, darling.
The world is our destination.
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 4:08 PM UTC
Nothing made as much sense
As wind beneath my wings
As I ran from trials and tribulations
And felt so beautifully free.
Nothing made sense
As much as tears on my cheeks
As I wrote one last letter
To set me finally free.
Nothing made as much sense
As a lung clean of smoke
As I gathered my belongings
And left a place I called home.
Nothing made sense
Until I decided not to stay
Accepting my cowardly title
I'm little more than a runaway.
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 11:46 PM UTC
Here I stand on the intersection
Blocking every apparition
That appears before the collision
Of my unearthed passion
The debris it scattered
And the fragments it recollected
Did no good for our Russian Roulette
And my black dress that sweeped
Aiming blade to each direction
And shadow-chasing apparitions
Here I stand, on the intersection
With the devil’s spawn in front
The sinner angel on my left
The lost brothers of long-ago arts
And the mourning ladies behind in red
If I let my blade slip in front
Inferno is the runaway paradise prepared
Yet if I let my blade to my sides
Heaven hold no place for my stained black dress
And the mourning ladies in red
Have no colors that resembles mine
But that is just an extermination
That won’t even matter
For tragic is just a trapped magic
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 10:31 AM UTC
Creeping up, a silent foe,
Breaking him down, nice and slow,
Crushing all his hopes and dreams,
Bravery fading, silent screams,
Fighting on, war and peace,
Just to get, a partial release,
A little confidence, suddenly lost,
One step forwards, the ultimate cost,
Walls built, a safe distance,
Hiding the world, from his existence,
A man in a cave, keeping away,
Building the courage, to battle today,
Invisible injury, a runaway train,
Mental illness, significant pain,
Weakness, it's how it's percieved,
Colleagues find...It hard to believe,
Lack of remorse, absent support,
Pushes him, to obvious thoughts,
Attenion seeking, he was no more,
Discovered today, by local law,
Tears shed, guilt ridden hearts,
Talking history, picking him apart,
Realisation, lack of due care,
Former colleague...
Empty chair
----
Trying to find the words to explain the poem. The message is there. Think about your actions to those you see every day. The ones that annoy you, for their quirky behaviour. There is an untold story behind each of us. Some suffer in silence, some try to seek help. Compassion and understanding is within us all. The unseen illness is a killer.
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 5:50 PM UTC
beyond Montana’s yellow lines
there is a field
~a field of painted soles
and laces rubber tread
~a field of ****** curls
and fallen headlights
where kaleidoscope lenses
look onto twisted frames like origami halos
where teddy bears hug stop signs like pickets
fringed in anger
runaway childhoods sleep cautionary tales
beyond Montana’s blushing acne
there are red cup melodies
blasting from blacked out tints
weaving blues notes through Rock & Rap
distant cries are drowned by Bass
or maybe Bud (light)
a haze of teenage eyes
they might as well be ghost riders
whip game copped from GTA
these pubescents are a Vice to their City
blooming sidewalk sloths
like flowerbeds
beyond Montana
is a country of bar stools
where bar tenders play therapists
and therapists play coroners
precedents are shots of whiskey - taken to the head
and reflected in flooded eyes
beyond Montana
is a country of MADD mothers and SADD students
beyond Montana
is a country of unexpecting pedestrians
beyond Montana
is a field
~a field of wing-clipped snow angels
That field is Mariah's home now
and she challenges you to change
yourself
your friends
your country
she challenges you to
STOP DRUNK DRIVING
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 2:22 PM UTC
"Are you from around here?"
You would have rolled your eyes at the city sky
Muttered something about Westernization
No stars in the sky
But baby, here they have the lights.
A man asked about you today
He said "and your lover?"
I told him you were long gone,
Feared the exposure of city lights
New York doesn't love me like you do
I said "my lover is a runaway fugitive"
Anything but the truth.
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 8:30 AM UTC
i kept my hatches battened but that
didn't stop your love from barreling toward me
like a runaway freight train with faulty breaks.
and god almighty, did we crash.
you came to a screeching halt at my doorstep
and i didn't know what else to do but let you in.
you looked so cold. we did not start with a spark but a full-on fire.
i told myself i wouldn't fall, instead i jumped.
our sinking frames somehow morphed into life preservers,
and we managed to keep each other's heads above the waves.
we had seemingly saved one another.
you tossed your pills, i flushed my razors, and for a while that was enough.
but we learned the hard way that even the deepest love
can only keep the storm clouds in your mind at bay for so long.
eventually our cracks began to show.
missed calls and silent hours built houses of cards
that were blown down by too many miles.
we hardly ever smiled anymore.
my hands were sieves and yours were sand.
i want to break the hands of the clock
that cursed us with this bad timing.
i have mourned all the hours i won't ever have with you.
i have felt the thunder that rumbles in my lungs
when i reminisce about the memories we'll never make.
the moment i realized i would never wake up beside you
an atom bomb went off in the center of my chest.
but the radiation is what's killing me.
the life is being drained from me here in the wake,
in the ache of your absence. but i won't beg.
i will live out the remainder of my days
tormented by wondering if maybe in another world
our love is perfect and neither of us bleed.
- m.f.
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 3:27 AM UTC
So he threw all his chips on red
Thought only of what was in his head
Which turned out to be shots of dread
For his seeds planted in young women's garden bed
Without nary water or breaking bread
Or nary knowing the breaches of his and her homestead
So he rushed down stranger's alley shed
On a runaway, wrongheaded cocky sled
Through her banks, he crashed her spread
Like a raging, raging thoroughbred
Nary was a thought of a rubber glove on his dragonhead
For the buried absence of love was in his heart of lead
There's his wife at home tucking their kids in their bunkbed
While he flirted with the forbidden apple instead
It was this night that lives in infamy for others to read this dread
For the news broke of a married man impregnating a young coed
Accosting such teen to what now proves to be his deathbed
Yet if he unwinds his c(l)ock and placed his chips on black he wouldn't have bled
Petering out the ills in his marriage he would have been freed
Now he shrivels in a shameful battle of what went through his head
Logan Robertson
10/05/2018
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 10:10 AM UTC
the tears fell
onto her feathers
in iridescent moonlight
after she broke her own
wing attempting
to fly away from
home.
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 12:26 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
i ran away from home
when i was fifteen for two
weeks, packing blue knee-highs
and makeup i would never
use, and fell into
the mantra of not knowing
where i was going but
the apathy wrestling inside
of me said it never mattered
so long as i was
free
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 1:50 PM UTC
I want to runaway,
I want to runaway,
Anyway from here,
I want to lose control,
I want to let go of all the strings,
Let go of all the emotions,
I want to runaway,
And be free,
I want to runaway,
Be free of all this.
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 6:17 PM UTC
Ask me how I’m doing and I’ll make it sell,
Tell you all is well,
When all is hell,
Falling through the sky,
Ain't hit the ground yet,
Just me and God here playing Russian roulette,
The wage is set,
A bet’s a bet,
Final stages of rage but my mind won’t reset,
Mental vegan, seeking only the raw truth,
I got a residence in present tense,
And the future on mute ,
I could be wrong,
But at least I have the courage to face it,
My word is gold,
Yours is a fake *** bracelet,
Three steps to forgiveness,
But life ain’t a waltz,
It’s a dance with the devil,
And he leads till you’re lost,
You see I paid the cost and got nothing back,
But pages of thoughts and a midnight snack,
They call it "hell and back",
Ah the hell with that,
I’m burning for my sins,
No matter what the habitat,
Fully packed and ready to die,
I’m ditching this life like a runaway bride,
Too young to hide but never too old,
To wreak absolute havoc with the anger I hold ,
I’m as real as pain,
Yet far from a heathen,
Only reason I left heaven,
Was to make peace with my demons,
Problem is they just want to get even,
And now I'm barely breathing,
Barely sleeping at night,
So to answer your question,
No I ain't alright.
Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 10:02 AM UTC