#Hashtag #Meatballs @ricoSacto #ricoSacto @Philosophia

RED MARS, DEEPURPLE NEPTUNE

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, November 1, 2018

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In a winter wonderland in the middle of nowhere known to man or woman, hot fire starts

Smoke is there too, always together one by one and two by two, forever identical pharaohs

I ate all of the goblins and their candy last night and I’ve burned off all of the sugar sweet

Without the freezing cold anywhere in or out of sight, it’s all a matter of movin’ my feet.

Dreamed while wide awake, gifted from posterity or my mother and father, suckled hind teat

Giving in to the benefits of inheritance and grand larceny, a transitory experience is all of it

Cork’s out of the wine bottle, cap’s off of the whiskey, poptop’s blown off the beer cans, sons

Corporate and private, pretending it’s not transitory, forcing blind faith upon the wise ones.

My life and love have gone dark in the pitch black of night, Neptune’s purple and Mars’ red

Whether you lived and died already, still alive or not yet to have become the DNA zygoted

It really doesn’t matter at all if you recollect the memory that the divine spark carries me

From pilgrim thanks and on back to the birth of the crucified One and Krishna and Buddha.

Seams and creases right up the middle from the origin’s destination and problematic position

Argument for a rational approach to celebrating mythological lore for the love of goddess’ son

In the dawn of the origin where the train started on the RR tracks from o’er there to o’er here

Shook my bones and my soul froze solid, time’s drunken saint, Santa’s addicted to my beer.

Fun for Red Mars’ girls who don’t become the nuns and boys’ deep purple extinction code

Winning awards for monsters in love, coming began going, broken records’ forming mode

Siddhartha and Socrates reason and rhyme ‘bout a millimeter thin, now weep, ACDC guitar

I’m all One, without deception or remorse, feelin’ the burn undersea, Uriah Heap to Qatar.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. BLOWVEMBER ONE, 20 ONE-EIGHT A.D. @ 9:11 PM PST

{ drafted while jammin’ with The Black Crowes #HardToHandle & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/2CE6bgj-hx4?list=PLdoJjJ9cLqRxFdjG_C9KCwebgLcOzut9C & @JoeSatriani & @G3 youTube link @  https://youtu.be/zDfy67my2So }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#WhoAreYou #IAmTheEnemy @ricoSacto #ricoSacto

BULGER’S TONGUE, SAYS NO MORE

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, November 1, 2018

 

Pour the warm water over the cold and dead head, recollecting ice cream cones and hot rods

You are a free rocking bone sack and that’s the way it has to be, devolved from invisible gods

Nothin’ controversial in your bone dome, synapses’ bobbers up n’ down, pounded brain-dead

Ignition of the gas and inflaming the deep pond of idiots, morons and terrorists, all offended.

Your mother and father left you out in the cold before or after their deaths, a poor baby alone

Joined the Union’s League of distinguished, naked boys swimming in a pool at a club of stone

Elder men of Chicago, New York, Miami, Seattle, L.A., Natives extinction reserves of America

Let the females, sisters, daughters and wives be the mothers of natural birth, All is of my Ma.

Before my conception I did’t care, I was not alive, I did not exist as I will not when I’m dead

To the front of the past recollection, avoid the final conceptual analysis of matter’s of being

Why you are alive, what is this life all about, frontal lobe, a divine privilege to be punished

For the ancestral heritage of disobeying signals of One creator, a Being of and for Nothing.

Suicidal murder of the qualified living things we eat and excrete, that’s all in Man’s control

It’s the maniacal and brain dead you will fall so far down the rabbit hole, you’ll lose it all

Everything you experienced and all you can remember will be forgotten, just a N.Y. minute

Down south of the border, Eagles are squawking, line is drawn, spy Trojan Horse, Halts!

When the radio DJ’s want to defend the W  hitey: United States of America v. James J. Bulger

They may all meet the identical fate of a #FrenchKiss with a dull shank, a pick stickin’ razor

It’s not for me to say or know the reasons why people fear threatening attorneys-at-outlaw

Evolution of the primate into your daughter’s date gives an unnatural selection of God’s flaw.

Question everything, have blind faith in nothing humanoid, lust for solace and be super slick

With the fifty emails a day to clog up your inbox, I will increase that too, I don’t give a lick

It will make you feel as if someone is listenin’ to your commanding requests, download Adam

Earthbound imagination here in my bloody battle’s war, blessed, gods’ all favor the damned.

You and Whitey and everyone else will swim with the fishes, land-sharks sent Whitey to hell

As you tweak the two lips of blasphemy and rat out your brothers, strokin’ your pants of dung

Key is to make connections, no need to swim with fish or be the fruit of nuts or tune of a song

Ancient scrolls of World Series’ bytes, tired records pitchin’ crazy screwballs, tongue is held!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. BLOWVEMBER 1, 2018 AD @ 1:11 PM PST

{ drafted listenin’ to the The Rolling Stones #LetItBleed & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/PwRg_Cqhs6U?list=RDPwRg_Cqhs6U } 

W.W.A.R.D.?

#WitchesHallow #NeverForget #LastBreathWillCome @ricoSacto #ricoSacto

 

DON’T LIE TO ME BUT IF YOU MUST

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, October 31, 2018

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Make sure it’s worth the risk of losing the love of your life when you take on the assignment

If you choose to accept it, you will be well compensated without worry for fame heaven sent

Chances are slim and none this isn’t just a nightmare, dream within a dream, without weight

It doesn’t matter a bit if you honor the ethics of civilization or that you deduce a Gomer‘s fate.

Hockey puck flyin’ past the blue line for an icing call, so the defense turns to an offensive role

Reverse skating and on defense going backward at the netted target, screening the goal hole

Style and grace on blades of steel, on a wooden stick of backup pine to slap shots, high stick

Checkin’ the bodies up against the count of the command, all’s well and counting down quick.

There’s feathers on the ground but more still on the Eagle flyin’ above to the nest, high or low

On a peak of a mountain, Big Mouth open wide like a gaping Mariana Trench rockin’ below

In some kind of a stranglehold on the culture’s voice, a muffler stops the signals to choke it

Air to breathe and gas to burn, gravity to churn, make the world turn, fly around, oval orbit.

You will, they will, we all will do what e’er needs to be done before we die, including nothing

To know that there is nothing that anyone can do about anything, is to know the truth well

Without compromise, from the thing itself, the matter, cell by cell of the body and soul ring

DNA and RNA blocks to form the matter, to shape and force it’s being to become, all #Hell.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Mercredi, ROCKTOBER 31, 2018 @ 10:10 PM PST

{ DRAFTED while jammin’ to Stevie Nicks #EdgeOfSeventeen concert #LiveInChicago on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/S3DhXcQepbY }

W.W.A.R.D.?

BONA VENTURA------- & a Happy #WitchsHollow to y'all! ------------->>>>>>>>>> @ricoSacto #ricoSacto

COME TO STARS’ & SAINTS’ HALOS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, October 31, 2018

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If not for the evolution of the orgasm, just like the lemmings jump, mammals would vanish

What I’m referring to is Nature’s evolution would never allow survival of any shadow’s dish

If not for the cosmic soup left over from the Big Bang’s solar system, creative internet stream

From Nothing we all became what we are, what you see’s what you get, our holyhell scream.

My town and your ciudad in the middle of nowhere or deep in a hood’s magnificent OMG

I do not exaggerate when I say that One could not make this up, it must be an accident I see

Complete and utter fear of the shadows that move in the day and the night, irrational scare

Get jacked up on the sugar and monosodium glute, fascinated by all of the girls’ long hair.

It’s much more and much less at the same time, in spades, play cards or roll snake eyes’ die

Anything to win the jackpot that is the jackass’s gold down the road, invested blue soul’s ice

Pawned it all to get the return of it all, now with nothing left after the last bet came up dry

It’s purple or red at one extreme of the spectrum, Spirit devours the prism’s light, high price.

In a dark place where the stars never sparkle, the sun never shines, there is Nothing living

No bodies and no souls, no spirits in the night, from my lips to God’s ears’ good old waxing

I am not in jail, I am not in a full lockdown, high security place free from the shanking dag

Killed none, blamed for a spree on fifteen or twenty, innocent of the guilt, a murdered jag.

From the tip of the Earth’s mountain snowcaps to the bottom of the Mariana Trench’s matrix

Everything’s everything and that appears to be an inescapable fact of life, as is you got my six

From the virus to the dinosaurs, spiders, snakes and Homo Erectus, we’ve come into this One

Hide under your bed, FUN to be these Homo Sapiens on a #Holloween dead moon, BOO son!

When you die, you’re dead and I’m really not a Jehova perpetrator of Truth or Lies of sheet

Being in me is exactly like the being in you, consume my flesh and bone, get you in the mood

Without the power, Corpus Christ to die and there is no spirit or soul to boot, so die real good

Revolutions won’t be televised but UFO’s left monster signs, we’re all Holloween sweet meat.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Mercredi, ROCKTOBER 31, 2018 @ 7:11 AM PST

{ DRAFTED while #ScreamingInThePumpkinPatch listenin’ to #TheNightmareBeforeChristmas #ThisIsHolloween on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/kGiYxCUAhks }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#WitchesHallow #HappinessIsFlyingInARollsRoyce

I THINK THAT’S MY DAD! WHAT IT IS?

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, October 30, 2018

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That man right there, he really does look like my dad, a bit tricky to treat you on Halloweens

Dark eyes a little bit different but the rest is exactly like him, as the wind does, we just blow

I was about two months old the day he died, he was about twenty, reduced to smithereens

Compared to this present day, he would have been the #BlackPanther or the #WhiteShadow.

With a fix on your life and limb, you are the last man and last woman in the solar system

Make the Earth your home and propagate the seeds to make life grow and thrive, civilize

In concert with the origin of species which you are, keep that the occult mystery of flies

Maggots and spaghetti who thrive on the refuse and recycling of the wasted fuel’s orgasm.

Cleaned of the wrong-minded conclusions which follow from invalid premises’ deductions

Back to the origin of species when wonder about the matter and hunger, why such a pout?

Mortal or venial and possibly original, garden of Eden type of hereditary, witches potions

Compared to normal, as above so below, during a storm there’s turmoil within and without.

On the day when the souls of the faithfully departed who’ve rested in peace, quake the yard

Graves’ piles of muddy, rocky dirt begin to wave like the ocean surf does with tide inbound

Out of Mother Earth, living corpses rise because the undertaker hid bones in shallow ground

Inner peace in your neighbor’s hood, heart and soul, I’m all, criminally sane, praise the lord.

It is thrilling to say the least when you get scared and you know it’s pretend, as opposed to

Reality animates the body, bones, the emotion and until the heart ceases to raise an eyebrow

When it’s dead and gone, it deteriorates and festers into a subject, buried, creepy ghosts too

Backdoor slammed behind me but it opened up again, enter this monster of August ‘51 stew.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. MARDI, ROCKTOBER 30, 2018 @ 3:33 PM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to Michael Jackson strut-slam-boogie on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/rmCA3qQkqso }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#VirulentViralRNA #VoidDNA #Thriller #RockStarWannabe

W.W.A.R.D.?

DOWN WITH ALL SAINTS’ SOULS

xoxo

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Monday, October 29, 2018

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I don’t want to scare anyone today with a nightmare I have every night, I wake up over here

In this dream you apparently have determined and believe without certainty, that I do care

But I don’t care, you really don’t care if it’s a choice between your life on Earth’s ancient bone

You can’t make this bovine excrement up out of thin air, they wrote on planetary rock stones.

How the Word was made flesh is a #BigBang theory of #BlindFaith in a #Creed from UFO’s

Dead folks, some grateful and some not so much, left you and I the explanation for ‘x’ factors

You might be an orphan or an adored son or daughter of lovers who willed you in a DNA code

Acid burns and creates something from nothing but a burn, feel the burn, make it burn mode.

The #Firemen from the #Bowery got this mode, historical before a civil war reb stovepipe hat

Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library & Museum #FakeCore, Billy The Butcher got you fat

Revolution of Billy the Butcher in the Bowery, model-T #Ford and Space Exploration in Time

Bowery Boys and the POTUS had a little tiff and here we are, All American, a World War #9.

Since people are unknown except for remnant bones and words, that’s all there is, a final end

There is no reason to breathe more than the breath you get lucky enough to cop a sneak away

From the ozone and the atmosphere of the mentally challenged, a responsible, narrowed way

Down saints’ middle paths, a styth appears to the starving stomachs, Adam’s Eve is still dead.

by

r j j stephan, i  #GodSpeed @GodBlessTheDamned

c. LUNDI, ROCKTOBER 29, 2018 A.D. @ 8:88 AM PST

{ DRAFTED while listenin’ to the #DynamicDuo Armstrong & Getty 0600-1000 AM PST & for the commercials, can’t wait for the Conscience of the Nation’s #TwoCents link @ https://www.iheart.com/live/talk-650-229/?autoplay=true&pname=15400&campid=header&cid=index.html & for breaks in the action listenin' to @TheAllmanBrothers #FillmoreEast 9-23-1970 link @ https://youtu.be/oeLDLVImwYA }

  #AdInfinitum

W.W.A.R.D. ? #ShipAhoy #MotionOfTheOcean #HungryBirds #LiftThatBale #CrackTheWhip #NobodyIsMyMaster #IAMNobodysSlave @ricoSacto #ricoSacto

 

WHERE YOU GONNA GO, BUSTER?

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Sunday, October 28, 2018

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Steppenwolf fingers of Family’s right here and now, smiling at me playin’ The Fool, a beggar

Different from the Others in gene pools of neutrons, protons and electrons, mama holds dear

Satisfaction’s never guaranteed woman, no money back, golden ring is God’s demigod blood

A flow out north and south poles, my lucid dream sold to a white boy in a backwater flood.

Some sons of does do run with herds of spiked bucks, roaming without purpose, live to die

No purpose it seems other than to run, to avoid being eaten alive or worse, a trophy for Moe

To be or not is an option for none other than the human naked ape, a la mode of apple pie

I can still hear the basement door creak when the hinges were swung open, Homer’s below.

No spirits stick on matter, used and consumed, beware of smiles and backstabbing googles

Liberty from the northern and southern banks of extinct Americans-Asians, prenatal survival

Compared to the freezing cold, naked and hairless skin of ancestors worshiping Ra & Baal

We’re the gods that we thought came dropped a dime on our ancestors and left us struggles.

If you have eyes to understand the nature of destiny’s reality, a search to breathe in and out

You suck it in, chew and spit it out into leagues of muck and mire, spirit son of a sea biscuit

In and out of the air, all around the whole shebang of matter and energy, go hug-out doubt

Can’t make Man or God out of bread and wine, respect to knock-off hydroponic honey bees.

Sweet, warm, bitter, cold, #FakeNews unknowns of this Yin’s and Yang’s real serendipity, GA

Trees consume carbon dioxide and exchange it for exhaust, this oxygen we suck as if cream

Mystery of the deaf-dumb sensory perception of mankind, resolved in seizure of this dream

Look and see a UFO blink152, Persia-Greece-Romano category imperatives, Mazda Zeus’ Ra.

All these verbs, nouns, articles, adjectives of interjections nobody wise or idiotic ever finds

There’s an empty, black void between linguistical hell, good-evil hands in mine, angel minds

Doors never existed to block exits or entry, being Space’s place where Nothing is God’s face

Godsend, a burned core, #BlackHole dancin’ with a hot #SuperNova , my Void, All My Space.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. ROCKTOBER 28th, 2018 A.D. @ 7:11 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to #Backstabbers by the #MightyMighty The O'Jays HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/hzTeLePbB08 }