LINK TO: MY TRILOGY GHOSTED CHIMERA "SIGNAL
WOE BETIDE Y'ALL BEFORE PASSING-OUT
PASSES TO THE BEAUTIFUL
It is what it is in totality’s plethora, subject-predicate objects both present futures to realize
Of course, you’ll want to be present under the silvery moon or pitch-black skies, in disguiseI can say no to anything at all, even what I ought to be affirmative about, the cat that smells
Far out on a limb with my best friend, Jelly Roll who died one day without notice, dead lead.
Turned it all into gold, just a planetary effulgence of what’s left over from the Big Bang’s ID
Jaws dropped, now or later, it never matters a bit, I’m not gonna lie, I ne’er lie y’all can see
Of course, you have no idea that your life is but a dream while you row the boat so gently on
Downstream following the current down to the sea, for the love of might, y’all wake up, son.
Pricking the unholy ne’er-do-wells, provided by welfare for loose mothers and daughters
You know and I know that liars will disagree only ‘cause they’ve no choice but to defend chit
If you comprehend aches & pains of waking life, aware that no pain means y’all are mothers
RIP then but not a moment before on hard roads up the middle, daddio, nearly all brothers.
Rumors and the propaganda that emerge from the sewers & hall odor of colleges of stank
By the way, bye the by or by the buy, in any case the philosopher’s stone has precedence
You don’t know what nobody else knows, join the club, it’s everybody not dead yet, it’s us
Conditionally, that you’re waiting for the End of Life to come, no pain or gain, no free rents.
Fools and their parents who conceived them from literal scratch, all will meet here or below
Up above the mountaintops, only 8 miles high above the fertile ground of being in the flow
There’s some “thing” to know about, it’s not a secret, but it’s ignored, yet it’s embedded on
My tattoos and scars all over from It, head to toe, bruised, stitched, healed like a freshman.
I got the jolly roger and the knives all sharp as the day they dropped from the blacksmith
No question of the poke, slice, cut and chop features of the thing as it was meant to be
Just like everything else in the cosmic reality we’ve all agreed upon as normal, it’s all dead
Don’t shoot the messenger because the keyboard is too hot to handle, get over it, he said.
If you can stay locked into the proximity of the perimeter, you’ll be focused here, now
Nothing is more important than knowing it all before your death, accept wisdom, blow
All in your head or a plethora outside your mental perception, either way it’s A Thing
Naming it with a sound everyone agrees upon as a reference to the identical O-ring.
My father is now in heaven with my mother; have injected the venom into my origin egg
No responsibility or obligation for the intentional conception, anticlimactic Irish Jig
On the plane, below or above it all, in every case, it ain’t there when you’re gone away
Don’t take my word for it, you’ll see & when you do, don’t worry about it at all that day.
There are unfortunate consequences for living without arranging your own after death
Like afterbirth, it must be consumed by the host & shared to the ether of the minions
I can’t joke, I kid you not, as an old amigo used to retort to an unbelievable kit of scat
You know fear, your parents abandoned you after the teens, crashed into it, God spat.
Fault and obligation are a display of Life on Earth, an accident of a god being bored
Gravity and centrifugal force due to a counter-revolutionary orbit about a white glow
That’s ALL folks and no offense to the clergy and ministers of the blind faith of a Lord
Of rings or of a cluster of minions, a Lord of something or other, all above and below.
Come on and reach out to touch me, just like every other human being, it’s skin & bone
Nothing more or less than a container for the heart pumping the blood, it’s in a rune
From papa’s liturgy onto a finish line, nothing’s more important than wisdom, ain’t so bad
Before Earth was created from a Big Bang, there was this here & that there, thanks, dad!
When I disrespected this world, my father overruled, respect for all there is, God’s concept
Deep spirit understanding of what the Unknown is & deeper than human language, accept
What #Disclosure means exactly, are the ones who came before us returning to the roost
If not, what the hell is up with the imagination, making fiction your mother drillin’ truth.
In gold we trust, the dead, wise-guys from all continents left a legacy of soul power trees
Written on the cave-walls both above and below the ocean water, axis shifts 15 degrees
Survivors of the natural holocausts & overall neglect of the civilized folk, we caused it, a lot
Elected or not, whether POTUS or dictator-czar of, by and for the people, it’s all we all got.
Coming in loud and clear at the ending, the finale when the curtains begin to close tight
Ready though for a final bow and an encore of unexpected joy to the world, ad infinitum
Happiness walking down the street, all it takes is the intent and ability to fend off scum
You know scum will come, like it or not, souls roam for mischief & envy, I say “I’ll fight!”
If I can recall a few of the gems & tidbits of wisdom from my father, I shall share ‘em all
“Did you do your homework, Richie?” “Yeah, pop, I got a final tomorrow.” “Good boy!”
Smacked me NEVER; he was the best man on Earth I’ve ever met, there were many yet
He was indeed The Best Man, paid my way in gold & silver to get here & now, all on a bet.
Winning is everything, it’s all there is because losing isn’t an option for the survivor of It
Heavens’ dogs and planets’ gods, ruptured the fabric of Time’s Past, morphed to hear it
Songs with melodies and beats to hear in our heads as if we’re hooked up to orchestras
Allowing happiness to elevate to a climax without intent, an orgasm without an egg fuss.
You know, and I know that all she really wants to do is dance, like she does, with a backbeat
She knows the way of the shake, rattle & roll, just dance like there ain’t no tomorrow, yeah
There might not be a tomorrow, you gotta get down when you’ve got the groove on afoot
Phineas Bluster was his name, all you need to know is he’s a dummy, nothing like @Groot.
In general, and in particular, this isn’t the 1st time I got to Earth & forgot life was accidental
Keep your eyes peeled, so to speak; if you’re mute & deaf, use the blinded eyes in your head
God linked you to the matrix, like it or not, you have no free will in that respect, that’s Killer
Meaning the very best that could have happened, advantage & opportunity yields the filler.
What I am or what? You just need a bottle of wine & flush cash for some thrills, it’s so funny
Bringing home the Butternut bread as it’s always been since day 1 as I broke out the bunny
Playboy or priest, nobody could tell from all faces that changed with haircuts, until the zoos
Never stop growing like fingernails on a corpse, coffin, woke after a while, Howard Hughes.
Pray that there’s no God, no gods who left this created lump of mud to the dogs, we’re them
No need to look at your reflection, you are who you feel like you are, grab the old mojo too
Up for grabs, telling stories that may or not be true, nobody calls the bluffs, it’s alright now
Video in your recollection, fell in love & fell out when it died, torpedo is stuck in the aft bow.
by
r j j stephan i
c. Dimanche, July 5th MMXXVI Anno Domini 111 PMPT
F I N I S
W.W.A.R.D.?
SHOUT OUT TO PABLO PICASSO
