#ricoSacto

Tuesday, June 11, 2019

#OnBeingMortified #ForgotMyWallet #JokesOnYou

PAY THE DAMNED BILL, PENNY!
Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, June 11, 2019
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It won’t be very long before you cannot handle the egg stench your ilk or perfume of flowers
Out of a desert blizzard and star dirt tundra drought, DNA photons of plants and bones form
On the road dead or in a BBQ skinned and drained of life’s force, it’s the only home of a worm
From the bowels of innards where only angels fear to go, divine humanity’s occultish powers.

Pink, blue and white for the symbolic reference to the good, the bad and the real, ugly One
Made everything from mud to blood to the beer in our mugs, we see what we get, oh yeah
All of it is a bunch of roses for the love of being animated with the sparks to ignite the sun
Alpha to Omega and above and below it all, everything collapsed into a holy singularity bay.

Nothing to do in the womb or after the arrival at the threshold of utter doom, end of days
Sun still shining while the Earth ceases to spin and wobble, just faces East, burns and prays
That the gravitational collapse will obstruct the mission to be or not, in an inescapable play
Of words, boys say of women who program the DNA of mating ova, precious and few today.

Nobody wants to have a baby, nobody wants to nurture and culture a child into a production
Of money’s wealth, the gold and silver, the diamonds, sapphires and rubies, colored rock, son
You know exactly what is in store for all of us, whether we like it or not, we’re headed to dust
Even guys with guns n’ swords can’t get away forever, the void’s prayer is to get up and down.

To be the point, the winning point to end the game with a victory or loss, nature is the matrix
We are the living who become something from nothing and then die and become mojo hicks
In a shallow bog or swamp full of unrotted corpses, that is where the UFO’s dropped anchor
Kept rotten bones together, sunken mud to the rescue, preserved in a flower bed of bad odor.

Olfactory sensation in the form of smoke and mirrors, an illusion that I’m in a fake reality
Everything appears to the mind that the whole world is outside of your hands, yet it is to be
Fear’s merely the lack of confidence generated by the power of knowledge, wisdom’s scree
About being you, your family and friends, even your enemies, they all swipe your pedigree.

In and out of the thing itself, friction causing a dream climax of the end of days, all of it gone
Then you come back to the present after being somewhere else, no future in the past, drone
Heartless, mindless, soulless and in a word, an automaton, no need for life-like, color sparks
Unmoved, started fire for the forest dwellers who will party with morons, freaks or sharks.

by
r j j stephan, i
c. June 11th, 2019 A.D. @ 2:22 PM PST
{ drafted while listenin’ to Stevie Ray Vaughan #LoveStruckBaby & HITS from #DoubleTrouble link @ https://youtu.be/nnbnRWHDFpw }
W.W.A.R.D.?

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