SECRET, HOLY LOVE’S FIREBALLS
Caput! That is all! Pay your tides after the ides of March, it’s not April now fools
Talkin’ to myself my friends, I cast no aspersions to the four winds’ ice of coolvilles
Alarmed by the Time and Space in progress, in consciousness, aware, uppity, alpha types
Graham crackers and the rest of the fused hydrogen atoms, mutated into uncracked pipes.
Blown and smoked throughout the vacuum between galactic incinerators, I’m the Black
An emptiness only known to One, never to the Many we’ve come to be, what One’s become
Is but a vibrant vibration between soft and hardware, malfunction in the junction, Jack
Not a thing left to examine or analyze down to the substratum, to the bone’s metronome.
Tick, tock, to and fro, back and forth, in a straight line from one end to the other, pointless
Inventions of rolling wheels and flying spears brought Ages of Stone, the Bronze and Space
Cream risen to the surface of the life’s blood of the dream, the supermilk of the Earth’s teats
Anywhere at all on 7 continents, the misery and hunger walk, fly and float holy miscreants.
For just a moment, suspend your blind faith in an ‘unknown’ creator of this mystery’s Life
You don’t know and I don’t know, without a doubt, for certain, that a God created a Man
That is the epic saga though or so I’m told, sixteen years of classic scholastics, cheatin’ wife
Badaboom, badabing, the jigs are up as soon as the last hammer comes down on coffin nails.
You’ve waited forever for me to drop the dime on this philosophy mojo I’m carryin’ about
It will leak out right off of the bat, before you know it, you’ve known all along, so shout it
Cool as the far side of the Dark Side of the moon, sky satellite that swears to God’s Void
Stuck on Earth, in a place in space where I can adapt to the culture of civilized mankind.
It is the same, if it hurts and it kills you or if it doesn’t hurt ant id kills you, a stooge’s Ra Sin
Cool or not, it’s the target of the One, to run out of the energy of a singularity fusion’s fission
Utter satisfaction, in Love’s deep sleep, dreaming that you’re here or now, in hot #Coolsville
Frozen attention arrested, high price, hard to swallow wet dreams, I put it on Freedom’s bill.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. March 23, 2019 A.D. @ 3:33 PM PST
{ bled veins, bled out while listenin’ to Rickie Lee Jones #WeaselAndTheWhiteBoysCool & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/yGFEFncDYQc }
FINIS
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