Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aaron LaLux Jul 2016
So I published a book recently; The H Trilogy Volume 1: City of Angels
And I'm REALLY frustrated because the book should be #1 on the Amazon Hot New Releases right now in Poetry but instead there is an HP Lovecraft book in the #1 position and I'm #2. This is an atrocity to the integrity of all  us real writers because for one the anthology is not New. HP Lovecraft is dead. And the anthology was not released by him. If you read the reviews on the Lovecraft collection you'll see!
There are many 1 star reviews from people that I don't know but that share the same perspective of outrage as I do.

PLUS, Lovecraft's work is public domain and it is actually illegal for people to capitalize off of his work.

Let's focus on writers that are still living instead of giving credit to one's that have passed. "H.P. Lovecraft Complete Collection" is not new, nor is it poetry. So how can it rightfully be listed as a poetry new release? Come on, please, let's make this right.
Here's the link to my book: https://www.amazon.com/Trilogy-City-Angels-Aaron-Lux/dp/1535054328
***
Aaron LaLux Jul 2016
Fck these words,
no one really reads much anymore anyways,
thought we were on the precipice of a Literary Renaissance,
but I was wrong we’re all too far gone to really care,

fck these words,
should’ve just shot a ****,
maybe then you’d at least give me a few minutes of your time,
maybe then I’d be able to get these thoughts into you,

fck these words,
maybe I should rephrase that,
make love with these words,
let me rephrase that,

fck these words,
fck politically correct,
Donald Trump is winning the election,
our country is the **** of a bad racist joke,

we’ve gone numb,
seen so many murders on the big screen,
that when our own character is assassinated,
we don’t even blink we just shut our eyes,
we will bring flowers to the funeral,
but we won’t tell them we love them when they’re alive,
we’ll write a beautiful eulogy once they’re dead,
but we won’t send a postcard while they’re still living,
lost my adopted father,
saw his wife and daughter cry,
and after missing two seasons of holidays,
I only came out to see him after he died,
and honestly it’s hard to feel connected to a black casket,
so I blocked out the white noise and read my eulogy,
then I flew back to Hollywood after the 21 gun salute in DC,
because I’m a narcissist and I think the world revolves around me,
but I am not the Sun,
I am barely even a son,
I just think I’m someone somewhat important,
because I’ve ****** out my words and thousands read my naked verses,

fck these words,
fck these fckn words,
I swear to God I’ll shut my MacBook for good,
pull that trigger and open up my mind maybe then I’ll be understood,

shock therapy,
self promotion,
suicide doesn’t answer any questions,
but it sure is an all-inclusive simple solution,

pollution,
in my atmosphere,
is there anything I can write,
that will really make anyone really care?

Seriously,
I’m asking a serious question,
share a few moments of your time with me,
and I’ll give you me entire eternity,

my heart is on fire and it’s burning me,
I need some fresh air,
I need some new hope,
I need to not need anything,
anymore,

I am a fckn *****,
I told you that before,
we all are in our own ways,
that’s the reality of this world,

and I try and write to find redemption,
because I’ll sleep with a *******,
then donate a thousand dollars to a charity,
I’m an unbearably uncontainable contradiction of virtues,

writing the madness of us all,
writing with the urgency of a conductor as his train careens off the track,
flying over the edge of a mountain cliff in slow motion,
getting out the final proses before it’s all over for all of us,

fck these words,
fck them until you’re sweating out all your pores,
until you’re coming over and over with these words,
until you become overly sensitive from overstimulation and you’re begging for no more,

until we are both exhausted,
laying there in the thick humid silence of a passed moment,
staring up at forever tunnel vision bright lights everything blurs,
and we become memories of our passed selves and all that’s left are these words…

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆
www.amazon.com/dp/B01I4621OE

Volume 1 of my new trilogy about Hollywood is now available worldwide.
I’ve decided to donate ALL of the profits of this new trilogy to three charities.
Volume 1 profits will go to a charity that prevents abuse and ****** assault on children.
Please support my new book and by doing so you’ll not only be helping prevent ****** assault,
but you’ll also be helping set an important precedent in making a statement to other artist,
saying that we all need to start giving back and helping each other more than we have.
PLUS you’ll also be getting an epic book of poetry from an epic best selling poet.
Let’s make charity cool and change the perception of coolness for the better.
Who cares what car you drive or what clothes you wear anymore?
What matters is what you’re doing to help those with less.
We live in this world together and can all give more.

It took me six months and thousands of dollars to create this trilogy in it’s entirety,
and all I am asking for in return is a few dollars and a few minutes of your time.
We made the last book I published #1 worldwide and we can do it again.
Simply purchase a copy now for less than it cost for a cup of coffee,
and/or PLEASE WRITE AN HONEST REVIEW about the book.
I’ve priced the book as low as I possibly could with Amazon.
And honestly If you really don’t have 3 dollars to spend,
at least REPOST this message,
or RESPOND to this message,
or something,
anything.
Love.


Here is the link for purchasing/reviewing the book:
www.amazon.com/dp/B01I4621OE
A frustration all  us writers go through...
Ryan Hoysan Jun 2016
How hard can it be? Poetry can break the normal rules, or follow them just the same, or even yet write its own rules. There is no teacher breathing down my neck, holding my grade in a vice. Nobody is forcing me to write these poems, yet I feel compelled to create them.

Ive got so many words to describe just what I want, but somehow none sound right.

I know just what I want to say and who to say it to, but I can't confront these demons.

How can I have all the right words, but put them together all wrong?
I want to fix the world and tell the world of the people that reside in it, but sometimes there are too many words to condense into a poem, too many thoughts to make coherent.
Keren Jun 2016
Tick tok tickles the clock
Cricket sound was reverberating in my mind
I can feel my soul being soaked
In my own sweat
This gives me such collywobbles
Im still putting my feelings into words
Yet Im torn between sending or keeping it
What will I do?
"****, Im gonna send this",
I finally utter.
"I have a deep regard for you."
Sent 11:48pm
I broke into tears because of this nervousness in me.
I let a deep sigh out.
Seen 11:50pm was all I can see on the screen
No typing.
No reply.
Nothing.
Im really laughing while making this for like 5mins. Haha
Jellyfish Jun 2016
I ruined everything
Everything that we had
I broke your heart
And threw it in the trash

I can't remember why
And that leaves me feeling sad
A year has gone by
And even now I'm feeling bad.
I forget when I wrote this.
BrittneyForever May 2016
What's stopping you from doing what you're aiming for?➳
Who keeps closing the door?
Have you ever tried with all your will,
Then found yourself completely still?
Is it lack of money?
Or is my life so sad, it's funny?
Are you running out of time?
Or have you simply lost your mind?
- Who's stopping you from getting your **** done?
-But then you hear the music, and realize it's time to have a little fun.*☮
© Brittney Hibbert 2016
Viral May 2016
The voices in my head
They speak all the time
I know them all so well
They complain, they whine
Yet amongst the sneaky *******
I know not, Which ones mine
why do you follow me?
watch everything I do?
Why do you read me
when you have the wrong book?
Why do you vow to destroy me,
but ignore me the entire day?
Why do you pass me by
look me in the eyes,
but say no words.
Is this your plan?
Its working.
its working
but may I say
leave me alone
If you don't want anything to do with me,
than stop pretending like you do.
you know who you are...
Torias Apr 2016
Okay, here it is.
You drive me crazy.
Some nights I want you to just kiss me already.
And then other days, I want to strangle you.

And then you smile at me like I'm the reason you're happy.
Then you go and make her feel that way too.

You say something mean
And later tell me you are interested in me.

Say it doesn't matter,
Say the opposite.
And then "What do you want?" You ask me. "Is it me?"

But I don't even know who you are.

4/19/16
Next page