#DeadMansHands #MyAcesNEights

#DeadMansHand

MY BONES AIN’T ALL ALONE

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Saturday, September 15, 2018

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Singin’ a song of joy that we are all alive and well here on the third stone from the altar boy

I call the altar boy the globe that burns above and all about the planetary system from the Ra

From Singapore to the shores of Folsom Lake, outside the maximum security from bad guys

Cheaper way to do it is take a ride out to sea and feed our gentle ancestral eaters of the bones.

All digested, all two hundred and eight of them, crushed, shredded and chopped into crumbs

Swimmin’ around in circles lookin’ to swallow more blood and bone sinkin’ into the deep six

No matter if it’s day or not, if the flesh comes, it’s eaten, if the bones come, they’re shattered

In frequent shipwrecks on high seas, Sharkfest shindig dance with drowned Sapiens’ DNA.

Your time in space is up when mine is because I’m takin’ the entire conscious mind I have too

That is the First Cause of my being and no doubt, yours as well, so get your affairs in order

I probably can’t live much longer than fifty more years, like all other mortals, fearing ends

The End of Time’ll come, syncopated kings, queens n’ slaves’ll become forced to yonder blue.

Until then, happy trails down the middle of the path for you, I wish you well, many blessings

From the emptiness of the Void to the bottom of your rollin’ stone soul, sun up and sundown

Nothin’ hungrier than an empty shark’s face, mouth agape for plankton, shrimp or gold, man

In a tank behind the clear glass, they swim awaiting your entry into a domain of liquid H2O.

From an Aquarium in Monterey to the bottom of Davey Jones Locker, who sucks? Dumdums

To eat whatever presents itself to the hunger, plastic bottles, cigarette butt filters, man’s scum

There’s no plan B, if we phuque this planet up, oops man overboard HELP, it’s over, it’s done

Nothin’ at all but a chilly, pitch black ice void in a supernova, 16 tons of creative goddess’ fun.

by

r j j stephan, i { #ThisAintYourMamasTrainwreck #SharkMeDown }

c. September 15, 2018 Saturday @ 10:04 AM PST

{ written while listenin’ to Tom Waits #16ShellsFromAThirtyOughtSix & HITS from the #RainDogs cd on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/0XLdxxJEB80 & a byte or 2 of AC/DC #RunawayTrain link @ https://youtu.be/dl65Qg-WELk }

W.W.A.R.D.?

Deanna Bogart - Love And Attention (Feat. Tommy Castro), AC/DC & WARtheBand

 W.W.A.R.D.?   

@Madonna - #LuckyStar

W.W.A.R.D.?

#CrushBeautiful #VogueNow

GHOST OF MYSELF, LEFT BEHIND *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Friday, September 14, 2018

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

I didn’t know, scared, I’d just float away the moment after my last breath, inhaled the shade

Darkness came inbound and propelled my mother to climax into my conception, I got made

Not for any small reason and even though it’s not fair, somebody’s got to step up to the plate

If not you or me, who will do it to the One who is asleep at the wheel, dyin’ and done, fate.

Just because you aren’t immortal doesn’t mean you can’t live like every day is your last, huh

You know what I mean, just reminding you to do anything you want and try to be fair with all

Because the Karma will return to you twice as hard as the hardship you cause on others skulls

Not that the Way isn’t in the picture, down the middle path, from here to Nirvana in Tejas.

Now and then you wall into a rut and get used to the monotony of night and day just to sleep

Slumber a quarter to a third of human life from infancy thru geriatric catastrophic lover leap

Deep penetration down to the bottom of the beautiful, black hole’s singularity, divine infinity

I know nothing more than knowledge that I am alive, here, now, this is and I am a beauty.

I’ll bury the hatchet if I must just to show that I’m as serious as a Philosophy professor’s TA

Inside the deep purple of it all, I always try to light my fire and beg to keep it burning today

Every move I ever make every step I take, you’ll be watchin’ me and I you, too, scary rites

Space in this square cube, empty of atoms yet full of muons’ anti-matter bark, bitcoin bytes.

I’ve got some news for you that’s not really new but it’s an old antidote to media #FakeNews

Believe me and have faith that you will if you don’t already, that life is a short trip off a wire

Balance and the ability to recover gravity’s love for crashin’ objects at 32 feet per sec/second

On the way down, look and see what you’ve done, flashback the good, bad high school friend.

Round up all of the orphans in this world and send them all to Nirvana, just um, because

No other reason than to allow justice for the beasts who live in lit-up, dark shadows ‘buzz

All together in my mind and body, my mouth’s agape at the dilemma and I stand agasp

Eyes wide open, breathing in and out until the solar plexus phartz into a harmless parody

by

r j j stephan, i { *Header’s my sister Little Queenie Deborah Stephan’s mime, couch surfin’! }

c. Friday, September 14, 2018 @ 1:11 PM PST

{ DRAFTED while listenin’ to Madonna #HITS #LikeAVirgin on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/s__rX_WL100 }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#FabulousWhiteVarietalWine @JoesGarageAintHere

RENOIR RANTS, HIT A HARD HAT

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, September 13, 2018

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

That heartache ain’t hurtin’ no more, it hit me hard but the whiskey hit me you #Mother

Everybody’s gotta go sometime and it was my time to fly, so I did and I left you a feather

A token of my appreciation to have allowed me to escape the hold of Earth’s gravity soul

Now, I fly from peak to peak, tip top to apex of the penthouse’s glass ceiling/roof, a hole.

Impetus to fall and to fly before hitting the ground of being, now that is an angel’s dream

On being an angel that has no concept of life or death, I stand in a vacuum, playing #Cream

In the Sunshine Of Your Love, an Unmoved Mover becomes your origin into #JoesGarage

It is what it is, it comes and goes with the wind, an appearance is the existence of a mirage.

I know no more than I did on the day I was born to mama in St. Anne’s womb, inner Chicago

Filling up the tank with the fuel you and I need to do the things we do and don’t do, mi amigo

I’m a product of this culture and civilization, all the UFO’s are now identified, don’t you know

Fry your brains and bones in the incinerator of #AllThings, the sun star is God, F-bomb glow.

In a manner of speaking, computing, the ambiguity is intentional, to obfuscate the actuality

Reality in this cosmic debris is that it’s a comical revolution of the Cosmos. naked and raw

Google a naked conscience, confine your concentration to facts of life, a Void’s empty realty

Mythological Words, symbols of a prehistoric DATABASE, kick your arse with shock & awe.

I shall confess to no man who pretends to be closer to God than I, it ain’t my fault, yet I rant

Look up at the sky when it’s blue and when it’s black, when it’s clear that you’re insignificant

You will have become familiar with the wisdom of the philosophers of our genome, A-men

Coming to know, coming to orgasmic climax seem to be a yin-yang cosmic egg from a hen.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. September 13, 2018 @ 9:11 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to the #Branding of @FrankZappa #CosmikDebris on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/Dp6LT2MdaPI & #DiscoBoy @https://youtu.be/PLTOc2TVAs8 }

 

W.W.A.R.D. ?
W.W.A.R.D.?

#DownUpSideways #InsideOut

{'his' Rico's muse}

SPACEPORT IN THE HIGHLANDS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, September 12, 2018

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If you can look in the mirror and see nothing but the skin and bones I see, you’d be shakin’

Got the dreams of the seventh sons right here inside the center of the vortex’s commotion

It’s all sweet and the best of the Good and it all came from a look in a fine girl’s eyes moves

Heartaches made no difference because the positives outweighed my own negative grooves.

It burned the whole way down after I chugged way more than a skunk’s last call for whiskey

Straight without rocks or chasers, down the hatch and jumped into God’s alternate reality

Space where nobody can recollect after they go there, remain there for hours and not expire

Death to all souls is #LastCall of night and day on Earth, a burnin’ moment to adore Hellfire.

Milk and homemade cookies full of love and dates, nuts and sugar, eating candy to get high

Not able to contain the reaction to the sugar from the 1950’s to the 20 teens, dropped a dime

Easier than water fallin’ over a cliff, I laid my five foot eleven frame over the spill, I did #fly

Went head over heels, tumbled over Niagara Falls and flew for the last Space of my Time.

Heartaches deep down in the soul can’t be felt from this place where I’m sittin’ just as above

No alcohol or plant burning required for decision to obfuscate the Truth, to be a lyin’ freak

Like rivers flowin’ down from the melted snow caps and rain of the plains, hearts do break

Hearts are weak organs, without rib cage protection, they can be broken in two, #FakeLove.

Here’s a philosophical gem for your unfortunate arse to muddle in, it’s a six foot four chump

Drunk as outlaws in a saloon after robbin’ the bank in town, spendin’ the money of workers

People who worked to save up for their dreams to come true get nothing, outlaws’ filth dump

Perfection and defecation are all that’s left from A to Z, you got this? I know, last call, BURN!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. September 12, 2018 Wednesday @ 9:11 AM

{ written while listenin’ to some HITS of random chaos Osborne Brothers #ShootMeStraight link @ https://youtu.be/cAAVj6nnIUs }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#EbonyEyesCry @ricoSacto #ricoSacto

BY INTENT ONLY, MOULON LAB

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, September 12, 2018

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There is no luck involved if you have ice magic at your fingertips, fortune is illusion’s rift

Setting the mind’s intention on the object to be subjected to absorption and metabolization

That’s all it takes, mind set and go to the target’s bullseye, works every time, a parting gift

Turning the love you gather from sainthood through adulthood and back, uptown mortal sin.

In a pyramid or tetrahedron there is nothing to see the form from the inside, they are nothing

Special lines drawn between random dots in space to mark one place or another, you knew it

All mathematics and philosophy downloaded into the matrix, reformed in a data dump’s pit

According to the babble and stone tomes’ etchings in cave wall fire-lit shadows, a lord’s ring.

Fear and loathing the remnants of being left all alone in a hostile environment without tools

Only the ingenuity of the DNA inherited by the mitotic division of ma and pop’s gene pools

In a sweet, deep purple attitude that pours into an empty dream’s holy scent, the Sun tastes

Everything that’s everything cannot be nothing at all, it’s a linguistic jingoism for our faces.

Pumping most of my energy into manufacturing this world from what it was before I arrived

That is one First Cause that’s impossible to avoid, what this world was without you or anyone

Just some dirt spinning, wobbling, revolving around the source of it’s being, God stayin’ jive

Language and culture delivery systems of the babble, so lucky to be evil, Fuck! It’s All alive!

Used to throw our kind to hungry lions’ in the coliseum because Caesar was all too human

Crusaders knighted up and with swords, armor and honor took the Holy Grail home, man

Everything really isn’t everything after all is said and done, it is something like nothing

All of the things are the product of nothing, the void of space that contains the lord’s ring.

This moment used to be the Future and in a flash it’s the Past, it’s a whole different game-ball

Remember being a teenager forever, drivin’ the family car on Friday night drive-in snorkelin’

Those were the days my friend, I knew they were gonna end, I saw the writing on the FB wall

I need a shot of #JackDanielsBlack to help me shoot straight, burn my heart down the hall.

Not easy when you get the axe from the love of your life, when it’s on the rocks, shoot straight

No watered down or on the rocks mess, down the hatch with blood of Daniels’ whiskey brew

Spirits comin’ out of the walls and the floors and the music rocked the boat ‘til it was too late

Nobody saw it comin’ out my cold, dead hands, turned it down, I made it all burn, I just blew.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. September 12, 2018 @ 2:22 AM PST

{ written while listenin’ to Florida Georgia Line #MayWeAll & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/8q3ZalsOafE }

 W.W.A.R.D.?