Last Resort (explicit) - Papa Roach

W.W.A.R.D.?

IT IS WHAT IT IS & IT AIN'T WHAT IT AIN'T - #EyeAintTrippin

WHO WOULD HAVE KNOWN

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Friday, August 3, 2018

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It’s my Chicago cap that rules the day in my world, didn’t have to catch a pitch or hit hard ball

Got it for a gift from my brother or my sister, sent it overnight service up the FedEx air ramps

I smoked my last cigarette in the dugout with #14 when I was sixteen, in the Colt’s league foal

Magical all stars moved in and out of a dream at an All Star game, where we beat the chumps.

Pardoned by the President and the Pope for the sins of hitting ten homeruns in one ballgame

Small bears moved around the diamond, steppin’ on bags around the horn, on the way home

The score tied or lopsided to one side or the other, maybe even a blowout without any blame

A pitching gem of a no hitting shutout game, perfect except for a batter hit in the bald dome.

Bottom of the seventh for a stretch when the leading run is on first, cleanup hitter, bags load

Fast ball down the pipe embeds it’s cork n’ skin stitchin’ into the Wilson’ wood, slam, explode

A homer or an ancient, elder male or female, soul food of the creator of two gonads’ monads

Peanuts, seeds, nuts to go in or along with the fruit, all grown for the Paradise sinner fads.

Amounting to little or nothing at all when it finally comes down to it, be a king’s fresh squirts

Into a queen who doesn’t mind a labor of love for jokers and thieves who love to be perverts

Parameters of the diameters and radii become the thing in the space, it’s dimensional blow

A Chicago Bear hungry for another Lombardi Trophy but a Cub can’t wait for #CommishTro.

Winning is everything and it’s the only thing worth while, losers lose the game, the race’s sin

Pummeled by the competition, the loser crawls back to the ranks of the homeless human race

Where the singles and hordes live to die without ever caring why, a non sequitur apostrophe

Superstitious glyphs on a dirt wall signals no free choice, all things are just to be or not to be.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. August 3, 2018 Friday @ 11:11 PM PST

{ written while listenin’ to a cornucopia of rockin’ stream like Marvin Gaye & HITS link @ https://youtu.be/H-kA3UtBj4M }

W.W.A.R.D. ?

#LoafingOverHer #JoinTheUnionLeague #GotChillsAllOverMyBodyAgain

A MANBOY FROM A BUOYMAN’S YOYO

 

I had green hair when I used to swing that piece of round wood or plastic around the world

I walked the dog and rocked the baby in the cradle, even had a butterfly backward stack yoyo

Up and down and all around the world from the Filipino Yoyo inventor Pedro Flores’ mold

Two pieces of wood and a string, using gravity and resistance to throw and return the gold.

Just about twenty-five miles from home now and I tripped three or four times since noon

I haven’t felt this good since I was about eight years old and that was sixty years ago, goon

There’s no reason to feel good nor bad about it, it is what it is and it can’t be any more Jack

Not a thing more than a small bit of knowledge that’ll yield the power you need to kick back.

How come you have to wake up every day and go to school or work or even be a broke bum

There must be more than the reason I’ve been told, alone in darkness, we hang in and run

From the nightmares and dreams that happen when everyone’s asleep as a fortunate son

Marked the beginning, the original start of the go-green light, holdup, Origin’s Zen scum.

Putting the payments into arears mode and noticing that Jupiter no longer aligns with Ga

Aquarius is gone and a sympathetic dreamer turns to the holy of holies, locked in a box

Where the sun never shines in to allow the sight to see the vision of the unnamed fairy

Neither a godmother nor an honorable sprite, can you say ‘yo-yo’ bandoleer animation.

What goes up must come down just because it does, we call it attraction to Eros’ love

To the core of this spinning elder piece of the solar system, where molten iron simmers

Underneath China and England, a fire of the origin remains while the night eats riders

About in and out, over and under, all around up and down, leave my horse, stars above.

Kiss my ain’t that something, you know better than that, I don’t mean literally, you crazy nut

Cracked as you are and totally bereft of the modicum of intelligence you’ve been a joke’s but

Betting that you’re getting the best of my love in the world, two bits I gave it all, spit my spit

Dreaming this baby down here, who in #Ga I am, a man-boy, a boy-man, Richie Rich’s #Hit.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. August 2, 2018 AD @ 7:77 PM PST

   

{ Header's a masterpiece called #TheKiss a sculpture by @Rodin as well as #TheThinker below the Abbot/Costello video, so there, BOOM, THERE IT IS! }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

{ written after a grueling SUV purchase day, drinkin’ shots with my old lady & listenin’ to Steely Dan #Aja & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/fG2seugAgnU & jammin’ to my personal hit #RicoRockHardFavorites program on #iheart link @ https://www.iheart.com/favorites/ricorockhard-724148/ }

#DoYourThingYall @ricoSacto #ricoSacto #DoDangDooDooDeeDaaDo

#SnowOnTheRoof #DoYourThingYall

by

Richard Joseph Stephan

Wednesday, August 1, 2018

 

When the time comes for silence and no reason to express yourself any longer, moot it

Nobody including your only friend can listen to the Truth, over again, ad infinitum fit

No comfort from above or below this apparent globule of rock and filth, waste desserts

Tightened up in the middle of the core, ready to explode into #SuperNova, God flirts.

With the human girls and women who are discontented with the seed of Adam n’ Cain

Mating with the two first guys, one being a prototype and the other the yoke of an egg

That is all you need to know about why this world, this reality, your and my perception

Is a fog that cannot be seen through to any other side, in the dark or the light, reverend.

High priest-philosophers #Apedom kingdom best paws forward, stuck-up in spiders webs

Nobody is going to get out of here and now alive, with or without a soul, animate holy Zeus

For no other reason than to hunt, kill, eat, mate, hunt, kill, eat, devil-dog sleeps until it dies

Watch television? Listen to #TalkRadio? Play games on the internet’s #WorldWideWeb?

Finally near the finale and the structure erected on an invisible foundation of holographics

Forms and shapes of the things themselves which we refer to with language, to be a human

Without the awareness of the way to communicate the culture, we are as the rats’ve become

Our fortune from Hollywood, California to New York, New York is not luck, Cosmos is sick.

Pain and suffering from the first hurting, cut nerves, damages nerves, demented old mind

Thinking with logic and reason for the sake of the World, to be the voice of a species’ kind

Survival of the most fit with the most variation in skills and ability to assimilate a ho, jackass

It is after all’s said and done, my human genome moving upon Earth, in #TwilightZone pass.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. 8-1-2018 Mercredi @ 13:40 hours

{ DRAFTED in 26 minutes TODAY & jammin’ on the #OldenDaze of my youth #ExpressYourself #SillyLittleGirl 📷 Charles Wright & the Watts 103rd Street Rhythm Band - Topic Published on Jan 23, 2017 #YAllDoIt https://youtu.be/p_j4J1WKzXI & https://youtu.be/cZ_p66zi7hU }

#BecomeDebtFreeNow
#WWARD ?

#BoyzRoundHereDontGAF @ricoSacto #ricoSacto

SHOVIN’ IT DOWN YOUR #PVC PIPE

 

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Tuesday, July 31, 2018

 

Push it down to the bottom of the pit where the light never shines, a Form’s Matter core

Nothing left inside the middle of the thing’s being, just like you, Earth’s a place to bore

From the birth to the death of the things themselves to the matrix of stone bullet holes

A God before everything, the Zeus, the Ra, the Jehovah, the Ala, Zoroastrian’s controls.

Behavior of the men and women who survive the birth and childhood of mankind, is the gods

How we act, God-like, as a creator of you and I and everything else would do, not devil-dogs

Mean and nasty, evil and bad beings that want to kill and eat you, like the prey on barbecue

Fish from the rivers, from the sea and the animated forms of amoeba to woman, asleep, fool.

It seems as if you’re not in a dream, you are, it seems like this cartoon’s a surreal spirit’s rally

Remember the feeling of being conceived, born or even the first time going to sleep at night

{...in a thin, bed blanket or your empty, vacuumed tent in a parking garage or gangway alley }

Cooling the core that’s as white hot as the almighty Hydrogen burst above, in time for a Nova

Your life, relatives, friends, the things you hold dear are our vortex’s holy G&A Spray System.

It’s on fire with reasons why you shouldn’t be afraid to watch life die, to kill for Christ’s sake

Alternatives to a ritual of awakening from sleep to returning to a somnambulistic mind fake

Those options do not exist, you either live on Earth or you die on Earth, no heaven/hell pool

No high water above your head while you’re stuck in the river’s rapids, drinkin’ Alps’ drool.

The boys around here think they know it all, then an emergency comes out of nowhere’s sect

Naturally, they hide until they think their personal safety’s secure, how they serve and protect

I might be higher than the snow on the Zermatt Matterhorn yet I see the clear light’s shadows

Before the Word, before the animation of an #UnmovedMover’s seeds, my Good’s Evil blows.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. July 31, 2018 Tuesday @ 9:11 AM PST

*Header photo attributed to the author/artist/photographer c. Paa Joe with a sandal coffin in collaboration with Regula Tschumi for the Kunstmuseum Berne 2006 link @ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paa_Joe#/media/File:Paa_Joe_mit_Sandalettensarg_2006.jpeg }

{ DRAFTED while listenin’ to WAR THE BAND #HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/Cr_sPj-XbUs }

*Header Video is #WhosOnFirst @Abbot&Costello - *Header photo attributed to the author/artist/photographer c. Paa Joe with a sandal coffin in collaboration with Regula Tschumi for the Kunstmuseum Berne 2006 link @ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paa_Joe#/media/File:Paa_Joe_mit_Sandalettensarg_2006.jpeg }

{ DRAFTED while listenin’ to WAR THE BAND #HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/Cr_sPj-XbUs }

W.W.A.R.D.?

@Warmheartedness #StandUpForYourRights #DontGiveUpTheFight

DOGTAGS & KICKED-LOCKED JAWS

by Richard Joseph Stephan· Monday, July 30, 2018

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Kicked me in the face while I was alive, conscious and perceiving the boot in my mouth

Horror of the wondering why I couldn’t move and defend my life was metabolized forth

UFO in your mind’s eye is not Anonymous pretending to be a DzWikileaks bury the lead

I am not what I was the day before my father impregnated my mother, mind-eye’s freed.

Psychological and physiological in the metaphysical complication, chaos is Us AND Them

“X” indictment as a co-conspirator with aliens from an Anonymous, nano-planetary system

Perfection in the empty sewer that the men made to empty the uber-wasted mastication flow

In the meat and potatoes of the carnivore and the nut salads of the herbivore, fed naked ape.

From a lump of DNA in a microscopic cell, comes a con-man entertainer-joker, a daft diddler

A builder, a mason who manufactures wealth out of debt, transforms the dead to the good life

All of us on this planet, third form in space from the glowing ball of flame way-gone, afar, sir

I did it, questioned everything and took no prisoners, nobody gets a pass, not even your wife.

Stinking from the dead and gone, not their skin and bones but their ideas, their handwriting

Suddenly, you’re entire block of housing and urban development is infested by a rat packing

Not the chumming crooners of yesterday’s Las Vegas, Nevada, friends of the Roosevelt dime

Movement of the Unmoved Mover means, the Earth spins, revolves and calculates the Time.

Copy and paste this link and you will be stung by the #PowersThatBe not God but the Man

You know who I’m referring to by the designated moniker “the Man” and if you don’t, tough

Life is like that so since you can’t always get what you want, this Truth, you at least will laugh

Like there’s no tomorrow, ‘cause soon, there won’t be for you, for me, it’s a dream Peter Pan!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. July 30, 2018 Monday @ 3:33 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to Jimmy Church on Coast to Coast AM #Wikileaks #BarrettBrown link @ https://www.coasttocoastam.com/ } #C2C #F2B  #CoastToCoastAM #Wikileaks @BarrettBrown

LOOK OUT BELOW..... 

@BigSur #BigSur

W.W.A.R.D.?

#BoysRoundHereDoNotGAF

CREEPY, STEALIN’ ECLECTIC MOJO

by Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, July 29, 2018

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Alrighty then, let’s ride this bike until I hit the horizon at the Tequila sunset without sunrise

Everyday I clean every inch of the heavy metal and oil up the tread gittin’ ready for blacktop

I may not be a flying object unidentified, have mercy, but I am what I am, purple Kush highs

With or without you, I’m going to the end of the line and when I get there, slobs will slop.

Spirits without the two hundred eight bones, head to toe, mythological pretensions of gods

In and out of their invisible minds, evidence of reality just a hope and a dream of psychics

But when Jesus left Chicago for Mississippi or New Orleans, drove the mother of all hot rods

Comatose from Springfield to Wakahatchee, ridin’ high, ridin’ dirty blacktops n’ turnpikes.

Pouring the water and keeping it inside the envelope of spirit’s H2, O2, N2 and burned ash

From the sun the Earth used to be, the son of the Sun, the son of God, the Way to the Matrix

Nowhere that you’ve ever been or even have ever been informed exists in this world’s cache

That is where the diamond in the rough resides, out of sight, out of touch with the fuzzdicks.

Apparently the appearance of the things themselves are confusing to the analytical method

Chopping the words away, meaning by meaning, nuance by nuance, come to Buddha n’ God

Or, if you choose, you’ve freedom of choice after all’s said, One n’ Many are in empty prisons

Let your self’s form get stabbed/pricked by the ‘Insane Many’ drones of god’s seventh sons!

It’s all gonna be alright, as I said, the grass smoke,, the rocks will fly, even God above will die

One thing for certain is you can’t say you didn’t know the deal because I’m spillin’ beans, fly

Climbed out of an egg and a sperm just to fly high into the space between planes, Id’s Thing

Microscopic and macroscopic one and the same, it’s the same above as as below us, Nothing.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. July 29, 2018 @ 11:11 AM Dimanche { ‘thinkin’ ‘bout the time in #Memphis, I thought I was in heaven!” -- ZZ Top LIVEBonaroo2013 }

{ drafted as the paradise in California burns down to the ground due to a Car Fire, Smoke is everywhere in the air and on the water!}