"FOOLS ON A TRAIN TO MY PLACE"

"FOOLS ON A TRAIN TO MY PLACE"

by Richard Joseph Stephan

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I woke up one day over sixty years ago and to my surprise, everyone was asleep, still are

Wool or just ignorant blind faith has become the demon-erratic way of life, liberty’s gone

Took a pill when the pain was too much to bear, sat back in my easy chair and zoned out

A twilight place in the the plasma of my Sony, linked to my Bluetooth and yours no doubt.

It’s not that complicated if you begin from a First Cause of stars n’ blue skies, my dad Sonny

Yes, the rain in the rivers from the snow on the mountain tops, on fifths or ides of September

Day my daddy died and others on planet dirt, could have been in January, May or December

Nevertheless, logic and reason flow, streaming lines of data, a new form of life, a cyberbully.

Smoking, drinking, working, paying debts, buying things and services to live like a faux king

With faux queens expecting the royal treatment or you’ll be totin’ that bale, keep on truckin’

Lay down with dogs and you’ll get the fleas, bad boys need good boys to influence the blues

Boom boom or blam blam, it’s like a nightmare or dream, depending on good or evil of me.

There’s nothing personal about this so don’t take it in a foul way, don’t #eff up scat that I say

I’m not loaded for bear and I’ve got no axe to grind, this is a mere slight of hand to go ondelay

From the get/go you knew it was all about OUR food, drink and being all too goda#n human

My own PLAYlist from Hades is no diversion from the gods’ silent chants of vermin, A men.

Places in Space to go from pole to pole and all around the equator of continental nonsense

In this time, Time has been the measure of the revolution and the recession of plasma soul

Substance of the First Cause, the Unmoved Mover is right here and right now and you got it

Deep down inside of you and I and every other thing that lives on this Dirt, something’s Up.

by

r j j stephan, I { header’s Rene Descartes & Buddha & their #TwoCents #ForWhatItsWorth }

c. July 14, 2018 Saturday @ 9:11 AM E.S.T.

{ written while listenin’ to my dominance in this hemisphere within my empty Oneness & listenin’ to WAR THE BAND hits on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/O8K8NfMLyf0 }

*Saw WAR THE BAND ‘LIVE’ last PM @ the California State Fair outside in the beautiful California July night! I must have done something really, really good in a ‘past’ life to deserve it! peace/out Richard Joseph Stephan

 W.W.A.R.D.?

"KICKS OVER SIZE #7, EMPTY TOMB!

KICKS OVER SIZE #7, EMPTY TOMB!

by

Richard Joseph Stephan  Friday, July 13, 2018

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Civilization of humanity, stuck the men, the boys, the girls who grow into the tax-you gang

Who defend Freedom, kickin’ in the barn, little feet over size #7, in a deep pocket blowhole

Took all the jobs and shoved them, the herd heard with their ears, they hear the gong bong

Filling the creator’s Void, empty pocket is impossible, it’s full of emptiness and a rubber soul.

Pumped up muscles, young and strong, energy and drive to be the best, to become the One

There’s where the Many reside, All for One and One for All, two, three or four musketeers

Grabbing the babies who are born to the unfocused, uncivilized parents or ‘parent’ is a rash

For the boss of their life, the people who reward your labor with a paper check of the cache.

Is it really an accident that the mantra isn’t generating peace and love, sharing the free-fall

I don’t think that can be proven or disproven but it’s an important point for the sake of all

You have the high hopes of the dreamers who live under a tyrant’s rule, island or province

All humanity want to be taken care of by the Big Daddy in the sky or a POTUS’ footprints.

Today may be rainy, dark or light and sunny but tonight like magic, it’ll now prestidigitate

Rolling and rocking not even felt by any of the residents upon or below the burned as#es

Leftovers from the #Fire that was the origin of the petroleum we use to combust our fate

In a deep, wet dream or just praying that there’s a Creator who cares, holes, women, ashes.

How did the ignorant, young idiot pay attention to the language long enough to feed the face

The meaning of life, maybe Monty Python and Benny Hill Funny Videos shed the ultraviolet

Disguised as the infrared wavelength, unseen yet present at all times, everywhere void, Space

Minds born to xy-zygotes, DNA’s size #0 to#7, All of It’s alone, a Divinity’s empty-mind-set.

by

r j j stephan, i { If you don’t know what the HEADER is a representation of, just forgetaboutit! You already did right? Yep, yep. Google Iwo Jima! }

DAWN IN IWO JIMA

c. July 13, #FridayTheThirteenth, 2018 AD @ 5:11 AM PST

{ consolidated the random stimuli into the inferior scat preceding this bovine excrement and all the while being entertained by Curtis Mayfield #SweetExorcist “To Be Invisible” & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/81foxlORujM }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#PowerAndNewWorldOrders

POWER AND NEW WORLD ORDERS

by Richard Joseph Stephan

 "...can't you feel the motion of the ocean?  They're wavin'..."

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Civilized and generated from the stars’ neutrons, protons and electrons, it’s gas on fire

Kept into the form of a human on the outside and billions of burning stars within It

Perfect old world and perfect new world both out of order in the chaos of mindfulness

Here and now where nothing is, that’s where I’ll be, dwelling on the hot funeral pyre.

On the natural order of the Earth’s rotation and wobble around a gas ball, spittin’ fire

Powerful accidental birth of DNA in the burned out cauldron of astral slush of beer

Perfect and permanent monolith in front of my house, keepin’ out the war dogs’ ire

Hungry to bite and kill something, dogs ferocious ready to assist woman with her, sir.

Appearance of the illusion to be the reality of your presence in this matrix of the tower

Outside the bubble with my gnostic perfection and hard liquor catapult the soul to Ra

Where the gifted and the depleted merge into One, being burned at the stake’s fire spa

Spreadin’ legs or moving the friction into the nervous system’s sex, knowledge’s power.

Eyes close once more, one last time and they won’t open up again, don’t look now, holy Ga

Pierced with swords and stakes, all of the lives I’ve lived are more than I’ve taken to my ma

Fallen off of the double-cross and crawled away because both ankles were broken up clean

On the way to the mountains, I got bushwhacked and took the stage, the Law’s order seen.

Flaws of Fate are merely a skewed point of view, an error of neglect, cathouse morticians

Some fortunate and others not so much, the fate of this man is the end of life, yours fool!

Wishing on a falling star or imploding core to expel the myth of Nothing, mathematicians

Version of an Imperative Category in a momentous realization, I’m the fire who made you.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. July 12, 2018 Thursday @ 3:33 PM PST

{ WHIPPED OUT while listenin’ to 992 arguments of The O'Jays #MightyThree #PutYourHandsTogether & HITS listenin’ to @ShipAhoy on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/AjOgxv177cs }

 #CrackTheWhip 


W.W.A.R.D.?

#NationalConscience #CashIsKing

#BENJAMINS

CASH FOR NATIONAL CONSCIENCE

Thursday, July 12, 2018

 

It is appropriate after fifty years to divulge the Catholic secrets of parochial school in the city

Sisters, brothers and fathers they referred to themselves, in secret orders of myth-rich scree

Often pretending to be the dominant and demanding a subordinate rebel, toes the line erect

Become this or that woman or man, ethical in governing humans, to be or become the fire.

Bias in your opinion is normal due to the nature of opinion, it is manifested from assumption

Of men and mice looking for the food or for the resting spot to avoid being killed or fire dried

To be reasonable, a conscience of the nation deduces ideas from facts of life, everybody died

Interpret the paper and the ink, the words, the meanings, the numbers of dreams I’ve eaten.

Then and only then, the solid argument using propositions which follow assumptions’ deities

Nobody’s ever seen any and the only ‘people’ to claim to be a god, are dead and gone bodies

On the day you and I die, the only thing that will matter is not how much coin-cash you bank

Diamonds and gold in a galaxy might buy you a NY minute, stacks of C-notes go wet n’ dank.

You want more Time in this Space so that you can do what? Do good for your survivors souls

Your own kin, friends and neighbors, superiors and subordinates descend into a Black Holes

Because there’re no ATMs outside the North and South poles, outside of this Life, It is a Void

City hall won’t help, a POTUS has no remedy for mortality or life satisfaction, kiss this, droid.

Chin up, pessimism leads to optimism right after you discover the somnambulistic tendency

To pretend to be awake while you’re asleep and walk around in a sort of daze, nothing fancy

My thing’s not your thing and this thing itself is all there is, in the middle of empty Space sin

So, go your own way and I’ll never see your face or invisible soul outside of this Earth’s spin.

by

r j j stephan, i { *in desperation #DarkWeb #DeepState in disguise, invisible! #ShakeItUp }

c. July 12, 2018 @ 8:88 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to the mighty The O'Jays ‘ESSENTIAL’ HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/yz-Nx0s5_j8 }

 W.W.A.R.D.?

#ShookdownRueDeSpeckle

55 WATERS, MYTHS, GOLD EAGLES*  

Wednesday, Seven-Eleven, 2018

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There is a fortune in mythology, the knockers know and the followers revere Deity’s stealth

It is this way because it must be to avoid the chaos of the troubled Cro-Magnon family dunce

Looking up in the empty space at night-time when Darkness imposes upon the living dance

Coming into the wisdom without the desire to comprehend this Truth, causes instant death.

Punch in the solar plexus ought to do the trick, believe me, it’s second only to kicks in a groin

Some know the feeling of 2 family jewels of their clique gettin’ royal kicks in a cache, #Bitcoin

Other half or more of the population have no idea but it matters not a twit because it’s moot

Point to be made of epic proportions, human DNA should not exist on planet Earth, forsooth.

Pretending that you won’t die like the rest of the bodies you have seen come and go, just do it

Alternative is remaining alive thinking and believing that Life within you is all accidental spit

Excreted from a supernova/nova in the middle of gravitational collapse/expanse, USA, USA

Secret of the actuality will never be known by the Many, don’t ask, don’t tell, what can I say?

Now then, this matters and I’m not going to write it down twice, there will be no repeat on

Once it is known, nothing else matters, how long One has gone on, All in #Punks’ faux-con

Just a chore of forgetting and remembering while hemorrhaging an effulgence of space-time

Brought into divine paternity, here and now, seventh or only son, One under a spell’s #Dime.

I don’t know anything, it’s safe to say, therefore there’s no point in claiming I believe in God

I believe in Nothing, like the vision I have when I look out into the Space around my soul-bod

Just because you have the blind faith you’ve committed to doesn’t mean you live after D-days

Supernova-busted bones and dust in a cup, a cache of bovine scat, no heaven’s or hell’s gates.

by

r j j stephan, I { *inspiration from here & now @ http://humanorigins.si.edu/evidence/human-fossils/fossils/cro-magnon-1 #WhoThePhuqsInCharge? #DontWorryBeHappy Freemasons #AskOne }

c. Seven-Eleven of July @ 4:44 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to #SpillTheWine & HITS of WAR THE BAND #Anthology1970to1994 youTube link @ https://youtu.be/espD_-Z-SaY }

W.W.A.R.D.?

Grateful Dead - Shakedown Street

W.W.A.R.D.?

#HoneyBeeBuzz #Creepin'

 PURPLE LOTUS, #ENDS #BRINGIT

by Richard Joseph Stephan·Tuesday, July 10, 2018

One, two, three four, A, B, I see it’s all in the stars above, buried in the dust and rubble below

Breathin’ the natural gas comin’ in and out for free, no tax on that yet, followin’ ebb n’ flow

In and out of the trouble inside this atmospheric bubble, so silly, nothing matters in the bowl

To you and yours, me and mine, us and them to nothing but the dead air, no life, gone soul.

Birds in the air and fish in the sea, snakes, worms, amphibians and terrestrials, the Time’s up

No more for me, feelin’ Ends of the whole thing approaching my face in this tiny, empty cup

From my head down to my ten toes, all 650 muscles tensing up tight, ready for hot-rod cars

Guilt and innocence out the window, blown away with the supernova, no wounds, just scars.

Who’s that slumerican chick walkin’ down the block, like she got a black belt in gang bangin’

Jerks willing to play, walk up and moments later, bleedin’ and wishin’ they would, they didn’

Nobody cares, crossed my mind in dreams, never came true before ending in smoked corpses

Filled the backrooms of the mortuaries and the morgues, crackers and punks, holes, sissies.

I wish a MFer would come git it, haters come down, ain’t hard to find me, nothin’ but chain

Cursed and blessed in One and the Same bag of bones, from heaven to go to hell, good pain

Perfect inside and perfect outside, no light in that Darkness, go there in the Rock and pretend

Hiding in a corner, disguise your presence, it’s over, you’re dead, you’re alive, hell, finis, End.

I’d take a bullet for her but she never has to know it, she forgot who I was, a hired hand Pop

No trouble and I really don’t G.A.F. much anymore, I wake up early and sleep way too late

But I still wake up every morning and walk the planet looking for trouble or comfort, both

Come to me in dreams and when I’m wide awake, ends in a purple lotus’ fire-smoke broth.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. July 10, 2018 @ 11:11 AM PST

{ written while listenin’ to #Jesus · Alexander King featuring Sonny Bama, Jellyroll & Gregg Fells · Sonny Bama · Jellyroll alter-RAP waffles with syrup link @https://youtu.be/m8AxTPEuNPU }

 W.W.A.R.D.?

Family Guy - Meg Abuses Stewie

@https://twitter.com/i/status/1014871303461847040

W.W.A.R.D.?

#DeepState PENETRATION

 PENETRATE THE BLANK MIND

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At a secure place deep within the matrix, below the Mariana Trench close to the #Core

Space without mass and outside of Time becomes the who, the what and the where door

A mild shock that goes from your knee caps to the top of your spine, spinning to Albany

Euphoria and horror alternate the conscious experience of One who has become Many.

A shock to the nervous system and a subsequent adjustment of behaviors to accomodate

The Right merges with The Left and 4/5 of the H2O becomes Nothing but Rockers’ Fate

In a conglomeration of unknown atomic fodder, you and I will be going into debt from bets

Hover over a target on the surface, a predato4dives into the infrared, soars into warp jets.

Mid-ocean of the #SevenSeas at the deepest part of solid-liquid-gas, where nothing lives

Vacuum of Nothing on the periodic table of elements, immaterial content, substance hives

Amazing glow of a burning mystery in the middle of nowhere within millions of parsecs

Conception from spontaneous combustion of selfless atoms, molecules we get from Sex.

Deadly living, needing and wanting to eat and drink it all up and recycle the goons’ remains

All around the world here and now for thousands of years, these morons have been Stains

Came from machines, from meteorites in accidental collision with Cosmic Soup, 3rd stone

In or out of nutshells, sailors and soldiers alternate ‘tween predator and prey on a cellphone.

Back on the retina, random stimuli cause the intention which precedes the motion, a destiny

Everything depends on the Eight Ball but it’s all about the cue ball, at rest on the bed of 8 x 3

If the First Cause doesn’t ‘Give’ first then nothing else does, no Motion just bad to The Bone

Holy Grail, a Holy Mass of divine incorporation into a trap contrived by a genius, all alone.

by

r j j stephan, I {...the header is a B&W photo of me, myself & I, when I was around 4 in ‘55 }

c. July 9, 2018 Monday @ 6:39 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to #FortyFour #Evil #SmokestackLightening & HITS by #TheHowlinWolf from the CD #MoaninInTheMoonlight on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/z_dVOkzzHHs }

W.W.A.R.D.?

"OH, AN IDIOT ARE YOU? GOD!" by r j j stephan, I

OH, AN IDIOT ARE YOU? GOD!  

Saturday, July 7, 2018    

Please take no offense if the shoe fits and you’re wearing it today or yesterday, OMG Eve

But you made the bed with the snake, the killer, the bite of poison, LSD apple to deceive

Eat the fruit, bite the apple, plant the seeds, grow the feed, masticate, digest and excrete

That’s life, it’s what all the people say over and over again, ad infinitum, I’m an antidote.

Being ahead of the curve and get behind the left or right wing of eco-politico cultural silk

Pills swallowed, elixir drank, powder blown-in, got a head full of clouded perception, milk

Mellowed out and full of the scat you call wisdom and knowledge, temporal void blood clots

Who cares about the SMF’ers on daytime or late night TV, cable news or Troll blogged-spots.

To have the convulsions of the nervous system in public or private, you feel a need to bleed

Learn the A to the Z to spell what you say, to write down what you mean, no reason to plead

An irrelevant time from your birth to your death becomes relevant shaming to a clever exit

Say what you found out while being alive here on Earth, stating opinions then suckling teat.

Not of mothers’ wombs but the teats of the nugatory, void of emptiness, nothing, no atoms

Intrigue the wonder, adolescence to geriatric dysfunction, watchin’ the parade to the ashes

Pretend it’s not right there, in back of you, waiting for guards to sleep, miraculous fiefdoms

Yet, there it is as it always is, within you behind your eyes above your neck, genius and bums.

You will move from here to where ever you will to go, metaphorically, your will will be hid

As above, so below the saying is said by someone who knew/guessed it was the Truth on loan

From dead philosophers, mystics, high and low priests of Cielo and Hades to my humble Id

Earth minds think and write words to be read and understood, humanity is a Divinity’s clone.

by

r j j stephan, I { yo, #Eve “...searchin’ for a heart of gold ( a miner for One ) & I’m gettin’ old...” - Neil Young }

c. Seven-Seven-2018 Saturday @ 4:44 AM PST

{ written while listenin’ to my cyber-program radio station, #RicoRockHard the link was @ https://www.iheart.com/favorites/ricorockhard-46905630/ }

 #RicoRockHardRadioStation

...now then, W.W.A.R.D.?

      

The Temptations Papa Was A Rolling Stone 1972 Single Version

W.W.A.R.D.?