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Aaron LaLux Mar 2017
American Dream

Losing it one memory at a time,
how can I keep track of my friends all over the world,
how did America become a shell of it’s former Self,
what happened to the my American Dream?

I mean,
I have everything,
every,
thing,

been to every continent still not at all content,
really though mostly because I don’t know the reason,
for my discontentment I’m in contempt when I try and defend Consciousness,

because most people don’t want to hear it,
myself usually included,
but this day is different an exception to the rule,
in a moment when nothing is excluded,

all inclusive with no illusion to allude to,
only positive punctual true proof,
that ever experience we gain,
is another memorie we lose,

and I suppose that’s the trade off sort of,
lost my money got my freedom feeling strung out like Adolf,
in this Waking Dream that's beginning to feel like a Ponzi Scheme,
was gonna blow the whistle on the whole thing until I got paid off,

hey Madoff,
I just got laid off,
or rather laid on,
a beautiful bed by a beautiful mare that's more like a Stallion,

and that’s the difference,
between the Exceptions to the Rule,
and the “normal human beings”,
I’m between and Exception and the Rules,

I’m losing things but Perfection costs a lot of jewels,
so I'm donating all my Championship rings and useful tools,

got,

to pay the Piper,
there’s a toll at the bridge,
and a troll under the bridge,
and I'm tough not a Billy Goat Gruff with,

Red,
Hot Chili Peppers,
with Kiedis in Budapest,
got The Good Life high as Ini the Hotstepper,

whatever,
nothing seems normal,
shouldn’t be so formal,
let the record play let the drums roll,

in times of gargoyles and turmoil,
having a drink at the bar and it's purple,
at Gresham Palace Bar & Lounge,
up high and getting down with a surplus,

outstanding,
with Anthony in Budapest,
at the Four Seasons Hotel,
on the River Danube,

the River Danube,
brings up memories,
of Lovers and Poems,
and all of the things that continue to make Me,

me and my memories,
I remember you and yours too,
when we walked across that bridge,
above the River Danube...

I can’t stand Truth,
He can be such a fickle creature when He’s free,
and I’m losing memories it’s true I just hope I’m not also losing you,
because She can be such a fickle creature when She’s free,

losing,
one round at at time,
gaining,
on ground that was never mine,

and I know you don’t know the answers,
“But excuse me could you at least tell me the time?”,

to this you turn from your Enamore,
“Well since you asked I’ll tell you it’s almost One Two.”,
in other words what you said,
was it’s almost 12 which makes this the 11th Hour of Youth,
and I know we’re losing all of our memories,
but the only thing I fear losing is you,

Because I’m,
I’m,
I’m,
losing it,

Losing it one memory at a time,
how can I keep track of my friends all over the world,
how did America become a shell of it’s former Self,
what happened to the my American Dream?

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Shivendra Om Jul 2015
Vorrei la foto tua
d'un tempo andato
amore mio adorato

–per esserci, con te

quand'eri giovane abbastanza
per non sentire ancora
la mia predestinata

–assenza
{ English version }

[ Memories of a soulmate ]

I'd like to have
an old picture of you
my love

–to be with you

when you were young
enough, not to feel yet
my predestined

–absence

Italian and English versions by Luca Shivendra Om
© Luca Shivendra Om
Troy  Feb 2018
What is in a kiss
Troy Feb 2018
what is a kiss
What is this thing that brings to lips together
It stirs emotions deep in the soul.

I kiss you because I love
you
  I kiss you because Of my loathing for you
I kiss you because I care for you
I kiss you because you are gone
I kiss you because you are here
I kiss you because you are kind
I kiss you because I can
I kiss you because you draw me near.

what is this thing this kiss I cannot hold in my hand
something I cannot put to pen.

What is in a kiss
It can cost you your very soul and last only a moment in time.

Others will cost you nothing yet
last you a lifetime
I'm told.

Some will bring you happiness yet
some torture you throughout an Eternity.

Some will be forgotten never to be again
And yet some like the first can never be free from
memorie

What is this power that lies beneath A kiss so gentle and soft yet bearing on every press

What is A kiss that binds contracts Of love

And some leave you wanting
More.

But yet it tears the heart from a lover as death takes the other With only One last kiss to give.

And What of a mother and her child who has scraped their knee
with a kiss upon the wound the pain is set free.

What is this power this thing a kiss

If Alone in this world without it
I tell you truthfully
it is the only thing you will miss
The gentleness
This thing
A
Kiss.
why do my thoughts no longer create symphony's?
with metaphors as my orchestra,
I could release the information that crammed and over loaded my cerebrum.
it makes me confused as to why I would neglect that precious side of me.
the special gift that
saved my life.
how could I neglect you?
how could I forget myself?
my anorexic-like spirit is
so hungry for the taste of my memorie's return.
Godi se il vento ch'entra nel pomario
vi rimena l'ondata della vita:
qui dove affonda un morto
viluppo di memorie,
orto non era, ma reliquario.

Il frullo che tu senti non è un volo,
ma il commuoversi dell'eterno grembo;
vedi che si trasforma questo lembo
di terra solitario in un crogiuolo.

Un rovello è di qua dall'erto muro.
Se procedi t'imbatti
tu forse nel fantasma che ti salva:
si compongono qui le storie, gli atti
scancellati pel giuoco del futuro.

Cerca una maglia rotta nella rete
che ci stringe, tu balza fuori, fuggi!
Va, per te l'** pregato, - ora la sete
mi sarà lieve, meno acre la ruggine...
Withering, withering, withering down.
A spiral of emptiness and weakness in my own heart.
A sickly form of hate.
A frail figure of shadows and misery and memorie.

O! and what is the field of golden corn compared to the bruise on your throat.
Choked by the ******* of godliness, when she is called life///when she is called death.

Forced to spit out your last drop of blood, through your pharynx///through your eyes.

Sexually with the knife in hand. Like stone to butter, stabbing within the heart of the devil. Like the beast with three *****, who carries the devil in his sinful testicles...you stab stab stab at the flesh of your own chest.

No hair after the fire, no blood after the lust.

The sexuality which assaults YOUR OWN SANITY. It becomes you.

Withering and withering within the HELL of your own spiral.

O! and when are you to become the devil within the sac of the beast?

To be born and reborn again within the light of the sun.

Burning away in a pool of blood that you craved forever.

Burning back together in a pool of ***** that you craved forever.

O! and who are you when you are left naked and alone by your own hand in a pool of hate that you craved forever, I asked myself.
Uomo, mi hanno condotta dall'estremo
dove vivevo intera la "mia" vita
al Tuo opposto tremendo di giustizia:
che cosa dedurranno dal confronto
dei nostri due insondabili princìpi?
Qualcuno certo, conscio del Tuo inizio,
tratteneva i Tuoi volti successivi
in un travaglio cieco di rapporti
ma io, ancor prima che gli anelli tutti
della mia vita fossero congiunti,
mi distaccai precipite dal nulla
e proclamai la carne concepita.
Uomo Perfetto, cosa dannerai
di questo seme che, nel modularsi,
s'è rinforzato solo di se stesso
senza estasiarsi in giochi di virtù?
Certo conoscerai che equilibrando
ogni comandamento che mi esorta
a saturarmi tutta di peccato,
che riportando a questo intendimento
la perfezione delle mie lacune,
confluirei con adeguato passo
verso una vita lineare e assente.
Ma per ora, il peccato del mio tutto,
resta la tappa ultima e possente
ed un ritmo incessante di condanna
mi rigetta dal muovermi comune.
Quando, fanciulla appena, mi concessi,
quando mi sciolsi per la prima volta
da quel bruciore acuto di purezza
che sublimava ambiguità tremende,
sentii l'impegno che covavo dentro
crescere, quasi a forza di missione.
Non ** altra virtù che di condurmi
a prodigiose altezze di consenso
e una stanchezza illimite mi prende
se non mi adagio sopra un'altra forma...
Allineando tutte le mie ombre
volte perdutamente verso terra,
posso durare un tempo indefinito
accentrata in un'unica figura.
Ma che dolore sale le mie braccia
reggenti il grave fascio di me stessa:
l'essere dura giova solamente
a questa dubbia resistenza mia...
Sotto il piede che immagino sicuro
cerco il terreno viscido di sempre:
la tentazione è come un tempo lungo
ch'io devo bere, abbrividendo, in fretta...
Guarda, perché previeni il Tuo guardarmi
con errata coscienza di pudore?
Guarda, senza sapere l'astinenza,
queste carni purgate dal piacere,
questi occhi sinceri nell'orgoglio,
questi capelli dal profumo intenso
di vita e di memorie...
Peccato questo vivere me stessa?
So che la santità germoglierebbe
esercitando in me falsi connubi,
ma asségnami una giusta tolleranza
se l'indulgenza nega questo passo,
fa che il ritorno al vivere di sempre
non sprofondi nel buio di un abisso
e che non mi si dia maggiore colpa
se come gli altri, e con eguale indugio,
gioco il distacco dalla mia matrice.
Hello it's me  Jul 2015
Far away
Hello it's me Jul 2015
Remember when you found me dying, you pull me out of that hole.
You promise you will never leave me,  now I'm drowning again.
Its killing me with every breath.  
Where are you? I'm reaching out my hand.
Where have you've gone.
I feel you so far away from me, out of reach.  
I feel so far away for you  wondering when I lost you.
I feel your love near me but you are so far away.  
I don't want to live this life, remembering everything how it used to be.  
Seeing you like a memorie but not really having you here
Are you listening? Come back to me.
Only you know who I am.
I hear your voice but inside I'm lost. Can't find you
Wondering where did you go.
Why so far away?
It's only when your alone do we forget what a true pain in the *** people tuely are.
Maybe for some it's just missing waking up next to warm body your face burried deep within her hair.

Others may be something altogather different and for others it is a true friendship far beyond a cheap **** it's the laughter i miss.
Thoose moments I took for granted i guess it's just her I miss.

It was nine years of hell mixed with touches of heaven.
I had tried to erase the memorie with gallons of ***** and cheap flings
Forgettible faces *** can be empty at times and can do more dammage than we know.

The bar that sits only a few paces from her door is still there.
The places all the same yet they seem cold as I am no longer welcome there
Or was it just me and a paranoid refletion.
portsmouth is a strange place indeed where on one side of the street are people sitting outside in the summer sipping cocktails eating overpriced meals.
and right across the street people wait in line at the soup kitchen.

niether group looks towards the other like the old color lines during the times in america we'd all like to forget guilt is a ***** indeed.

Still no matter the problems in this world it always goes back to are own simple lives why you may ask?

Cause we cant solve the worlds problems and thoose who belive they can seem.
to have this habbit of always getting shot.
So here I sit in thumpers the local yuppie bar I used to look at from her window.

the view was a lot better  from her place but the drinks are a lot better here.

Do I miss her?
Yes.
Will I knock on her door tonight and beg her for her love like some desperate love struck fool?
No. I just sit here get drunk talk to some woman and if I'm lucky get laid close my in the mist of passion and pretend it's her.

Maybe I'm a coward but I'm  also a man and we all need that contact even if for only for one night.
If only I could reverse that view maybe then I'd just sit there and remember just what a pain in the *** she was.  

And rememeber why I'm in this goddamed bar to start with.
So I'll drink to her in my seat by the window underneath the neon sign.
And pretend that my life was misery with her so I can stand this crap i'm  living now.

Women are the worst drug you'll ever know.
But ****** there fun and I'll die befor I leave em alone.

— The End —