"SCENES FROM AN EMPTY BOTTLE* #FoolDisclosure @FoolDisclosure

SCENES FROM AN EMPTY BOTTLE *

by Richard Joseph Stephan·Saturday, July 21, 2018

A tall and small punk all rolled into one little face from 1954 AD, just because you’re android

By a bad guy with a knife, in a dark room without a stitch of light, full power’s common sense

Comin’ inbound from the netherworld, outside somewhere in the essence between my Voids

I have no reason, no language, no thought to mend your ignorance, innocence and petulance.

To drink and eat the matter that is present, here and now, masticate the divine self, chew it

Teeth bite flesh and bone, suck blood out of hearts and sin out of souls while Earth’s in orbit

No idea why it’s goin’ around and around, history is hysteria and hysterical, yet all we got

Believe in the blind men and women who died and left dusty, old bones, God’s record spot.

Fear and loathing of who you are and what you’ve become after being cut loose from the sun

Light from the violet to the red, purple, royal blue, crimson and pink shades and hues of fun

Protecting your family and yourself from the predators left in the gangways and four corners

With the power within your hands and feet, you can mold the world around imagined fears.

Why the fire mixed with the water and entered my mainline, injected venom popped a cork

Let the genie out of the bottle with the smoke that disappears in the electromagnetic sky-park

In an empty vacuum, there you go again, nowhere to go once you’re out of here, go reverse

Back into the matter, over and over again, ad infinitum, highballs and 7-7’s, it gets worse.

When the buzz wears off of the reality and your hands and fingers protect your head’s face

Knowing that you must remain awake during battle to stay alive is the knowledge of a race

To be hit in the head by the hardest rock from the ground of this flotsam and jetsam of Sun

And then you die in pain or in your sleep before you get to be 100, in China, USA or One.

by

r j j stephan, i { *header’s cropped photo of my 4 year old #stare in 1955, #EyesWideOpen }

c. July 21, 2018 Saturday 12:22 PM PST

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{ drafted while listenin’ to JEET KUNE DO Inosanto Academy of Martial Arts video of my sensai’s (RichardKrueger) sensai, Dan Inosanto online @ https://youtu.be/Dvd3G7tO8EA ALSO BIT THIS @ https://youtu.be/qZ_xs40Rv-k }

"HOMELESS, THE BLUES & WINGS" #SmarterNotHarderUNLESS ...

HOMELESS, THE BLUES &WINGS

copyright by Richard Joseph Stephan

Friday, July 20, 2018
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What eats Nothing at all, weakened the @Herd of @Many with the essence of sweet Never

Not that you care or want to be exactly what you are, what you’ve become, what you’ll be

System of the melted, frozen snow from mountaintops, riverlets of your Mother, my father

Dead as the things #DeeBears leave in the woods, on purpose, out of the Way of you & Me.

Checking to see if it’s the case or not, whether you love this planet or even in the #Darkroom

Inside your head’s mind calculates that you’re a mortal, an animated bonebag ‘s mortal skin

Not only the case that I want to be alive forever but also I am here and now in pending doom

Periodic termination of the DNA reproduction in cycle of being and nothingness #Collusion.

Where did your Ego and personality, your being’s mind go at that #NextToTheLast breath?

Read the #Word, nobody knows, they leap to an unconditional assumption that All is well

When it is anything but well, ship of the fools we’re related to on the sea of fictional #Hehl

Space where conscious’ divinity is assumed to be Cause of Good, Evil, Birth, Life and Death.

You are and I am part of the people, places and things we call ‘Them” but the #Floyd is “Us”

Way back when Ignorance was bliss and wisdom, knowledge’s plethora of info-data omnibus

Sacred wisdom your #Mama warned you about, staying away from the rational thought dust

A birth of a #Devadip and dozens of vinyl and compac discs later, still the #Man, hum buzz.

Sweet sweep of a prime broom in Space-Time, mine moves away, I’m guiltless, I am faultless

For no reason, y’all go ahead and pick a number from One to ten and then I’ll terminate clues

Why? Just because I can, like the creator of heaven and earth can do, I will do that, guiltless

Deep, holy holes, asleep at night at an edge of darkness, Carlos Santana ‘s freeway of #Blues.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Friday, July 20, 2018 @ 7:11 AM PST

{ written while listenin’ to Carlos Santana on his #Birthday #7-21-1947 & I personally salute the #Devadip for the many hours of Time spent listening to LIVE & RECORDED versions of #PureLove! Thank you my brother from another mother! #OyeComoVa link on youTube @ https://youtu.be/VYEgCukYZbA } 

 

@CarlosSantana #Devadip

W.W.A.R.D.?

#GoodOldFeeling - @ThreeDogNight GREAT CONCERT LAST NIGHT BOYS!

W.W.A.R.D.?

#BONAROO @ZZTOP & @ACDC #SOULSTRIPPER TIME

BROKEN CONCRETE & ICED CAFE

by Richard Joseph Stephan   *   Wednesday, July 18, 2018

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If I tell you that I love you, that’s just common cents but I will call you just a friend to feel

Probably not but there’s no harm in asking, just in case you were lookin’ for such a real deal

Something to sink your teeth into, as an animal does when they really like some form of god

Sculptures of clay and granite, paintings, sketches, poems, stories, novels form this hot rod.

Stuck into the fire and burned until piping, white hot as the sun above the darkness squeeze

Flowering matrix of being, omnibus full of passengers on the way to nowhere’s empty skies

All of it moving in perpetuity to avoid stagnation and annihilation of Being itself, dying guys

Perpetual loneliness of the feeling of Oneness within the horrid and the lovely moon babies.

Picked up all of the pieces I could find scattered about the continents, set foot upon the decks

It’s just a ton of broken concrete askew in a neighborhood of sharp dressed, pregnant ducks

Putting one foot in front of the other and fighting for the rights and privileges of a monarchy

All One present descendant’s DNA coded syllo-gism of cloned DNA, a Hole, Trinity’s divinity.

Moved from restfulness itself, absorbed in the feeling, the concept, an idea out of space-time

Production of evidence that Nothing matters and if it did, who would care to drop the dime

On me or on your mother, your uncle or maybe right on top of your own head, goddaughter

Years and miles from the final departure, ashes back from the stones of this rocky saltwater.

Nobody’ll be left to dream about it, eventually when the species becomes extinct, it’s a tease

Will it be me or you, stranger not even born yet in 2018 AD, maybe 3030 AD, still gittin’ loose

Do not beam the messenger up to the UFO just yet because the message IS a concrete noose

Pussycats in a cup of jacked up white juice, you need it, I need it, iced nuts spiked, yes please.

by

r j j stephan, i { *header is the Cheshire Kat on something like H & 2O, WhiskeyVodka or just plain ole’ #BlackJack Jack Daniel's Tennessee Whiskey }

c. July 18, 2018 Mercredi @ 11:11 PM PST

{ written while listenin’ to ZZ Top LIVE Bonnaroo Music and Arts Festival back in 2013 link @ https://youtu.be/-uZinAmZtJg }

W.W.A.R.D.?

You Are My Kind

W.W.A.R.D.?

"STONES LIPS ON ROCKERS"

STONES LIPS ON ROCKERS

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Feeling rocked but not stoned and falling off of a cliff in Big Sur, I think therefore I was there

Amazing that I’ve forgotten my name, my social security number, my address, my identity

Everything swallowed and digested, recycled into the past from the future, skippin’ presents

Yours and mine, all of us, we are “The Them” our mothers and fathers warned us about, see?

No good bad guys and gals, grew up either in cities or in the country, raised by miscreants’ ilk

What is left over fodder from the Big Bang’s refuse, blown-up star particles, without purposes

A cell’s animation or multi-cell civilization’s paradise in the Void, spun homegrown, cow milk

To be you or me or not to be, that’s not the only inquiry of alien intelligence’s common sense.

The rest is the history of the universe whether a PhD physicist or blind prophet, rock hard Ra

It came from nothing we can name, we came from what we agree to call the “Thing” of God

Mainline for the brain and the mind, to think about the things, places, sheep who go LaDiDa

Maybe better that I don’t but I will give y’all seventeen cents old buddy, hop in my ole hotrod.

I came from good folks and hung around the worst neighborhood boys I could find around

Looser than you when you got a buzz-on, I fell off of the wagon and drank a tub of Jack D

All alone now just like the day before I met you, it was just the way it was, happiness’ sound

Buy me a boat, a truck to pull it and get to the Lake by the Rock, oh Folsom let me be free!

Back down, I ain’t ever gonna do it, I got my point and I know I got my own back, I am One

Whatever you say, whatever you think about this that or the other things, I do not GAS, son

I am floatin’ with the river current downstream toward the mouth, where the blue sea hums

A hundred degrees but I’m fixin’ drinks again, waitin’ to BBQ, got more ice, sippin’ 151 rums.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. July 17, 2018 Tuesday @ 9:11 AM PST

{ written while listenin’ to some @ChrisJanson #FixADrink & HITS @ https://youtu.be/-_Op0bQfMoo?list=RDmAz9iq3VFTo }

#WWARD ??????????????

" HEIGHT OF HOPE, SIR #LONGKNIFE "

 

 

HEIGHT OF HOPE, SIR #LONGKNIFE

 

by Richard Joseph Stephan·Monday, July 16, 2018 

You cannot swipe the Spirit in your ATM debit IBM machine, you have a soul for a grim one

There is no place to go any more when the promised land’s been desecrated by homo sapiens

Euro-Asian, African, South American, North American, Australia or Antarctica or my house

Everywhere above the salty sea from sandy, rocky beach coasts through deserts and oasis’ ice.

Shut up, no, keep talkin’ if you think you’ve a chance at persuading mountain dew fools, dude

To bend a knee to your Will to Power, everyone must bow their heads like you died a martyr

Burned on the stake full of burning fire, who I was became extinct, now my flesh barbecued

If the star shines on your cap or hat, your bald or hairy head, you got lucky again, gods care.

A padded foam underneath your bent knees, while waiting for your little deuce coup hotrod

Into the priests and marble tabernacles where the transubstantiation resurrected the dead 1

Every holy day, every one of the 365 spins and annual revolutions about the #FakeGasGod

Wow, paradise has been lost but nobody really GAF, nobody cares that it’s the Truth’s gun.

That will put a damper on your hopes and dreams of living after the body dies, dashed God

Empty vacuum within and without the thing itself, Being and the antithetic Nothingness sod

To be or not, isn’t an issue when nothing really matters at all, all alone is living night n’ day

Like a dream from which there’s an awakening, you’re Present, Not a thought, it is The Way.

Save the God of your soul from torture and humiliating self-deprecation, forget about it son

Pretend as if nothing has been understood and let it be as it was and always will be, sightless

No third eye or even two eyes with shades, the Wolf, The Lion and the Thunder Bear all One

Grab some lumber and nail them Cris-cross, winks, nod to God, Void for All, oh boy, godless.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. July 16, 2018 Monday @ 7:77 AM PST

{ drafted being cool, how ‘bout you? Distracted from the AM awakening of POTUS’ President Donald Trump ✅ Vladimir Putin [OFFICIAL] #chitChat with & HITS by the Official Tower of Power Band #LIVE on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/nFjHL-E0NTQ }

 

 

W.W.A.R.D.?

DRIVIN' CALIFORNIA US HWY1, SINCE YOU AXED!

DRIVIN’ CALI-US HWY 1, SINCE YOU AXED

by

Richard Joseph Stephan * July 15, 2018

First of all, it’s probably a good idea to let you know, I’m not a kid, I reincarnated, I’m fine

From the body of an ancient man who was about twenty-two, LOOSE as fishin’ reel line, son

What I do is what I’ve done and will always do, the Earth spins, wobbles, revolves, it’s a sign

You aren’t of this Earth below, beachboy, ghetto boy, follow divine regulation for civilization.

Picked and grinned since I was ‘bout three and by the time I turned into a warrior backslider

Learned how to fight and defend Love’s Constitution, don’t think I won’t, it’s a Big Surprize

Plunged over a cliff into the drink, stuck in the rocks, dead man’s curve, plumb stuck-a-phuqr

Drowned before help arrived, spirits all around couldn’t help, they were everywhere, no lies.

Sure was buzzed when I came around that last curve ‘fore I was a dead man, an idiot worries

Nothing hereafter to reconcile my all too humane faux pas that erupted with fervor, seized us

Grim reaper not as advertised, t’was fear of the living that mattered to the Void’s Cosmic Z’s

Gods don’t sleep because they are not conscious, not unconscious and have no subconscious.

Pillars and polar magnetics from friction-gravity we’ve come from gas afar from a divine thorn

You’ve got your solace in the unknown, putting an old man’s face or sitting American Indian

Natives, since y’all asked are anybody on this planet that was anywhere on Earth when born

Native is birth on the ground, in the substance of being, in a form of animal eating, data scan.

Born in mid-AM, blown into a Windy City by The Lake that used to be, animated the twoOne

To be moved from the dead stop, to become the form of two into One, lips kissed what I seal

I will do whatever it takes to survive upon the naked ape planet, hillbilly’s mind gone to Heel

Soul ain’t dead yet but I got that fate, drink and a smoke, got loose, a girl and boy, 1 & DONE!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. July 15, 2018 Sunday @ 7:11 amPST

{ drafted while jammin’ to #KidRock Smack Pie Pizza & *HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/tBWzNF_erA0 }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

White Trash

W.W.A.R.D.?

Last Of A Dyin' Breed

W.W.A.R.D.?