‘Twas mid-day when I sat
Ready with paint and brush and all that.
Upon the stool I sat brush in hand
But like a bowl of lentils plain, my mind ‘twas bland.
Minute after minute, hour after hour
Passed before not one idea did flow’r.

‘Twas mid-night when I stood
Brush and paint in hand I did not think I could
Create even a twig or blade o’ grass.
So I took my brush, my paint, and all th’ mass
And turned quite sudden to throw them all
In to th’ depths of nearest lake to fall.

But unbeknownst to me,
That hellish stool on which I sat to paint thee
Had fallen to that curséd ground
With th’intent to trip me I soon found.
And fall I did in to th’ nearest lake
With paint and brush and all that I did hate.

And ‘twas then that I thought
As I did sink, ‘twas then that I was caught
With thine image of pure light.
‘Twas then one hour past mid-night
When I beheld thy face of peace
Upon my canvas painted piece by piece.

Then I rose to th’ surface calm as could be.
I took my soaked paint and brush and all that I could see
And sat upon that hellish stool
To paint thee floating in that pool.
So ‘tis to thee that I do write this bit of Posey.
To thee, O my dear, my blesséd beauty.

Here in the darkness I lie alone
Letting her raven wings cover my ******,
Her gloomy and dreadful mystery runs through my veins,
As I slowly become one with her.

Time goes by, I’ve already fallen into the abyss,
Immersed with its darkness, my soul has been obliterated by it
Blind, deaf and emotionless, I’m fine with it
Since it’s warm and peaceful inside it, like in mothers’ belly.

But what is this?.. a light?
Haven’t seen it in years, decades of time
It burns my eyes, it kills me,
And though some say light is a savior,
For me it was just a destroyer.

What freedom it is to be nothing among everything.
The point inside the wheel cycling for words, knowing
myself through mirror's reflection forever like air under wing.

My Soul becomes freer, growing ever fractal
upgrading it's software, such as they in the sea.
They who jump forth by thy will becoming distinct
by that of beneath.

Positivity through connectivity, I am In Charge.
Love in Phase, will resonate a Standing Wave called Ki.
That which Resists only exists when it passes through the
body of me.

In such the Capacity of Responsibility remains for the taking.
My soul yearns to lift the torch to teach those in a lesser light,
forever above is my Zenith in which under such flame I cast
no shadow, or as it be that which rests underneath the souls of my
feet may be freed.

In every step I take toward my goal.

Connect like comets,
got thoughts but won’t comment,
controversial as a result of being honest,
honestly sick of the politics & sick of the nonsense,
actually I’m sick of it all to be honest but still I won’t *****,
conflicted by the conflicts that’re inflicted on my conscience,
from the constant onslaught of plots that they’ve got that I’m barraged with,
in this enormous orbit that we’re all in it’s ugly & gorgeous I’m nauseous but conscious,

just wishing they’d stop it & I’ve lost my train of thought but haven’t yet lost consciousness,

at,

a house party in The Hamptons,
July 6th. 2018,
last week D.C.,
next week Miami,

bless the vibes like we bless the mics,
that’s why they want us around,
if I get the invite & have the time I might take that flight,
because I’ve been all around but still up to get gown,

buzzing off of a mixture of different chemicals,
feeling Sharon ****** operating off of basic instinct,
Semi-Quasi-Serious-Centennial-American-Millennials,
wer­e are what is in so we tell them to get out with their doubts & we dismiss what they think,

live big & still get enough to give more than a little bit away to various charities,

with 3rd Eye Vision that’s 20/20 so they can’t pull a fast one on me,
in the perfect position I see everything while most of them can barely see anything,
not kidding but we do play no kids no way,
our artistic creations are what we will leave behind as our living legacies,

staying grounded at the same time we’re all stars outta this world like a fabulous galaxy,

where we connect like comets,
got thoughts but won’t comment,
controversial as a result of being honest,
honestly sick of the politics & sick of the nonsense,
actually I’m sick of it all to be honest but still I won’t *****,
conflicted by the conflicts that’re inflicted on my conscience,
from the constant onslaught of plots that they’ve got that I’m barraged with,
in this enormous orbit that we’re all in it’s ugly & gorgeous I’m nauseous but conscious,

just wishing they’d stop it & I’ve lost my train of thought but haven’t yet lost consciousness…

∆ Aaron LaLux ∆