BORED MONKS’ BOWS & GUNS, RIP
Struggle to become men and women from the boys and girls we got raised from, then caput
It’s over before you know it, before you wanted it to, an unexpected pretend shockin’ cut
Kicked off of the living team and traded to the dead, death of the heart and the soul, both
Souls cannot survive without a 208 bone framework unless angel wings count, chosen one.
Fear of the end of life will only waste the Time in this Space which’s so precious and critical
Burst out from a blown white dwarf, here we sit with Snow White and seven dwarves’ balls
Holy scat written down by scratchin’ straight and curved lines in the dirt and on cave walls.
Now and then, whether it’s your choice or not, you will die because you’re alive but that’s all
You and millions of other atomic ideas became adapted to pickin’ strings, Pan blowin’ a horn
For the minions to rock and roll around the Time and Space of watches and clocks, that’s all
Leave your body alone, burn it to dust, bury it in the rock flush of formaldehyde’s acid porn.
Grinning and laughing inside as loud as a black giant steppin’ on Tom Thumbs’ porch to find
Guitars and horns, drums and tambourines to add the voice of Earth to the noise of mankind
Words written and spoken in every language in the universe, sounds, signs never out of sight
Out back, *up-down* by a riverbed’s blown rocks, Hades’ smithereens, state of my good fight.
Fish and dolphins and whales jumpin’ out of the water to get up to the sky, we remain down
Home on the ground, still hungry to eat the matter to continue to remove a goddess’ gown
Searchin’ for what is never going to be found since it is nothing that is lost, nothing’s new
In my wildest dream, I live forever while everyone else dies in distress, um, the gods knew.
In a garbage or soup can, the refused is recycled into the smoke, chem-trail dusted air-gas
Through the hands of dirty bums and bumettes, life moves and animates the old bug’s arse
Educated from the kindergarten around 4 years old to the metabolized education’s gun-din
Boredom’s exactly what priests’ sisters of charity wanted, gods of war, death, now I’m all in.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. #Mardi, February 26, 2019 A.D. @ 7:11 AM PST
{ drafted listenin’ to #TrueLove by Glenn Frye & friends' #HITS youTube link @ https://youtu.be/mUM4x4Bl_Ic }
#PURPLEhAZE
W.W.A.R.D.?
https://youtu.be/WaSy8yy-mr8
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