#GearUpForUnforgetable #MoveOnUpToTheWestSide #FarSide #FarOut

WHAT SKY IS, IT CAN’T BE, IT AIN’T

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, December 12, 2019

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On a clear day, we can see for miles and on a foggy one, we can’t see in front of our One face

It doesn’t matter much in the long run, either you’re incinerated, lost at sea or ground buried

No matter which way it goes, bottom line is the Unknown suddenly becomes a known trace

Queens don’t wear knickers and the gist of the WAR is to swallow the queen, as she did me.

My spunk and the swallowing of the germs that die in the stomach acid, is all I have to show

For my existence since my conception and the following situation, step by step, inch by inch

It creeps right along as if I want it to be that way, I suggest rethinking the strategy approach

In the end, you and I will see the only way it can be, empty space with a microscopic suckin’.

It’s dope and it’s the way of the warrior who treads up and down the middle path, road of Pi

Where 3.14 is the god of the Earth, diameter and circumference of the rocky dirt of blue sky

Invalid arguments of syllogistic types seriously persuade the opposite of the kid’s filet gumbo

Big Burger Bob cuttin’ and fryin’ the cow flesh, BBQ or fried, it’s better than bein’ a Dumbo.

Simple minds in the simple men and women who run the shows of home to Congress’ wraith

Elected to not be any good at judging another branch of government, when they’re way OCC

Forces of gravity, centrifugal force and momentum all contribute to the love of a blind faith

Opened the door, lost my mind, that’s all she wrote, my spirit’s 40 Large, naughty all, the 33.

Burnt out adoption of the chosen ones who grace the land of giants long gone since 20,000

Before the century and before the millennia there was burning light from Space, froze blue ice

Across 93 million miles it shoots a stream of exploding quarks and charm, in our bull’s eyes

It’s this next thing, that nobody will go follow the judge or be dismissive once or maybe twice.

Interject the venom into the cytoplasm and watch the feed to the mitochondria's cytoplasm

Skin in the game or not, it’s a matter of Time and Space in the writing on stone’s smoke joints

Pictures with lines to recollect a story of score, passing, running-kicking it for extra pinpoints

Marvelous that I am what I am, didn’t mean to be that way, it’s merely an insane toe spasm.

by

r j j stephan, i *Header is a Polaroid shot at night with infrared film. Not.

c. Jeudi, FREEZEMBER 12th, 2019 A.D. @ 5:55 PM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to a #SuperFly Eric Burdon and War on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/4nJ9I0dZ7Vo }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?