#IAmWhereYouAreNot #Satch @JoeSatriani #IdolOfAxe

AXE TO GRIND, DON’T FRET KID *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Saturday, March 23, 2019

--------------------------------

In the middle of the road, shred so you can see both ways, overplayed uptown gigs

Formats of the function are in reverse order, in a dream yet not asleep, goat kids

Comin’ to know the end of the beginning before it starts, kick-start cab-over rigs

Bring it up the mainline vine to the heart, what’s the matter, chilled souls of Ids.

Pluckin’ the E, F, G, A, B, C & D just for the sake of a sack of silver gold doubloons

Easy to trade for the room and board of the things that wave tail in your fake wake

Makin’ the movement until momentum fails and then...and then eat pitted prunes

It will be the rhapsody in purple, a name of a woman, no sister-mother, eat the cake.

Protons in constant sight of you, electrons lost in space to the nucleic acid flow

Rays of plasma, wavelengths and frequencies received from a sun’s death blow

Much to say about a reason for being evil alive, no reason for being good not bad

Books of theoretical jargon to fill the Devil within me, my sapiens’ soul is so sad.

I had no name when egg met the code of gamete games, if I’m wrong, don’t have a shytfit

It may be that I had been introduced to my egg’s DNA alleles and I just forgot all about it

Truth is, any guess is as good as Adam’s and Eve’s or any worm itself, a crossroads thing

In the telescopic view, nothing magnified a million percent becomes the set of Nothing.

by

r j j stephan, i { *Header’s the mighty axe shredder, hands & arms of Joe Satriani #Satch }

c. March 23, 2019 A.D. @ 7:11 PM PST

{ drafted out of nowhere while listenin’ to some Rickie Lee Jones jammin’ on HITS like #Youngblood on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/j359eOgZBZM }

FINIS

@ricoSacto #ricoSacto @RickieLeeJones & me

SECRET, HOLY LOVE’S FIREBALLS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Saturday, March 23, 2019

-------------------------------------

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

#ImaginaryLovers #HereAndNow #FrontAndCenter #ANYTIME #NeverDisagree #SatisfactionGauranteed

YOU GOT THAT RIGHT, PAL!

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Friday, March 22, 2019

------------------------

Sixth encounter of the Third Kind comes and goes before anybody knows it, earthbound feet

Forgot where you came from before your conception of DNA’s reception connection, so sweet

It moves on the ground and it’s hungry to eat you, we are the food of the paranormal phenom

Punks and gods morph into the living logs on the beach’s sand, solar cinders of mortal scum.

I need a drink to wet the dryness of the full moon’s reflection of the sun, imagery I adore, score

I always win the games I play, it’s the whole point of playing, nobody wants to be a loser door

An open door for the winner to open and take all of whatever is in the pot, money, food, girls

To be or not to be, boys and girls forever, until holy ground meets Peter Pan’s spinnin’ whirls.

Here and now is the presence I’m in, the one you are entering now with eyes widely skewed

Ears and mind in a state of readiness to receive the complimentary gifts of divinity’s brood

Freedom to choose the Good, the Bad and the Ugly for reasons unknown to immortally Man

A soul within invisible bones, invisible nuclear acid, come from the cosmic soup’s tomato can.

On the loudest decibels conceived by mankind, in an empty chamber devoid of air and light

A heartbeat begins out of nowhere, just conceived from a thought of ecstatic friction insight

Epic thrust of a scream into the universe and ouila, a spirit-soul out of nowhere, too human

Chains on the ankles released if and only if the recollection of why God is God, Man is Man.

But you won’t know like I will know the meaning of the will to power, animated Book Runes

Rocks roll into a ball of liquid hydrogen and blow out in 360 degrees of output of the iTunes

Come see if I’m right or wrong, eyes wide open too for a minute, Chitown and Big Apple kicks

L.A. clear as a bell, it’ll toll for you and I, as sure as Earth wobbles, as sure as a shot of 30:06.

In a dark corridor without light, you move any direction into an imperative’s waste category

Groomed with vigor in the religion of peace and war, fear of divine retribution for devil’s evil

Spelled forward and backward it’s either LIVE OR EVIL but it will be known, good, bad, ugly

All things are nothing but appearance, cells of acid, Man is God’s cotton-pickin’ boll weevil!

by

Rico Richard Joseph Stephan

c. March 22, 2019 A.D. @ 1:11 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to the #SoundOfSilence @SimonAndGarfunkle on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/NAEppFUWLfc & SOME @AtlantaRhythmSection #ChampagneJam link below! }

FINIS

#ROCKundROLL #ZEITGEIST #BonJour!

GET READY, #ZEITGEIST, IT’LL BE *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, March 21, 2019

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Tryin’ not to keep eating food because we’re runnin’ out of the dead stuff and all grain blown

Human beings come from an evolution of Nothing, just a dream in a Godhead, you’re known

Stick it in a multidimensional jungle, grubs on rotten logs, eat ‘em until you turn to maggots

Eliminate the culture and civilization from your intense hope for immortality of soul debts.

Hit the balls in the holes, thrown and caught balls, passed and shot balls, nitwit, Eros cut

You can believe anything but you’ll never know if it’s the Truth or not until you fall caput

Down the hatch of paradise here on Earth, shopping malls in the cities of roses and cess

In a pool or in the deep, blue sea, it all winds up there in space, sins the human’ll confess.

Disobeying rules and laws of nature and the divine origin of our circus, Being is here and now

Living and let living, able to defend the ones who want your stuff and your life if you’re a cow

Refuse to let your mind wander to the hunger you feel for the cheeseburger in paradise’s shoe

Morality and the rules of the road be damned, heathens wanted to lower the nation’s low IQ.

Free will to stay alive if and only if you work for the living, or beg at the freeway exits’ signs

Think about your hunger, your friends and families hunger, the inhumane hunger for fines

Pay the tides to your communist community, you keep the dying from becoming holy drills

Of you and me and every other living thing, it’s not our fault, it’s just a fact, #Cosmos kills.

On an unconscious burn of imploded explosion, you won’t see it comin’, me, I’m already gone

Punks and fabulous moments spent inside of their heads, where the holy keep a big cellphone

Boxing and wrestling with the hopeless people left on the riverbeds, backstreets, ghostwritten

Homeless are the USA military vets and children of welfare aid, bacterial farm for mortal sin.

Bring it on down to the foundation, recollect the day before you were conceived by sex rocks

Now, you remember, there you go, yes, absolutely empty nothing there, no concept to analyze

Language to help the chaos from becoming your daily bread, ten commandments, be the byte

Do to other living things like you’d want them to do to you, Void is terror, feel Omega fright.

by

r j j stephan, i *Header is a caricature of the #MightyMouth of #Stones - M.J.

c. Le jeudi 21 mars 2019 Anno Domini à 09h11, heure normale du Pacifique

{ drafted while listenin’ to 50s & 60s R&R collection on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/POEhK88qwM0 & The Rolling Stones latest jamz @ https://youtu.be/9WqQyMsonQ0 }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#FakeBlues #NoNewsIsGoodNews #Josephine @UncleKracker

#FAKEbLUES & YO’ MAMA *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, March 20, 2019

-----------------------------------

She came literally out of nowhere, dysfunctional mutation, handful of virgin DNA acid

At a moment before Time began, Earth was not in orbit, a thought of a being not, horrid

Be that as it may, woe betide you who disregard the lights flashin’ on the mean, past tense

Nothing vulgar just symbolically without matter or energy, a sign without being, Prince.

Roll the bones, play the cards close to your vest, bet, bluff and call the raise, it is #Winning

That is all that counts, losing is for losers and not for the winners in this or a hell’s Sing Sing

On Earth, on the moon, any other planet in this solo solar system, everything’s art, holy black

No color or brightness here and now, only dark, Nothing lives or dies, Soul’s Nothing, Jack!

In it to win it or born a loser who is destined for the six feet under ritual, or natural rotting

Memory left on paper or granite walls to analyze and criticize for the lack of future shocking

Come into blinding light and look in the mirror, reflect on a memory of what will disappear

In a NYC minute, an iota of Time’s Space, on the ground, on the air, I’m morbidly blind Fear.

So, I am since I have no choice to be or not to be, I seek Truth within an abandoned beehive

In English or any other human linguistic application, signs of hands, arthritic and not alive

Trying to convey ignorance and blind faith’s loathing fear of the ENDS, to suffocate the bird

Never did and never will exist in or out of Time and Space, no Thor, no Zeus, no Ala or Word.

by

r j j stephan, i { *Header of poem is #FWAAT ‘I’ looked like prior to my idea/conception! }

c. March 20, 2019 A.D. Weds @ 10:10 AM PST {dedicated to gramma, sister & cousin Josie}

{ drafted while listenin’ to the #UncleKracker #Josephine *happy hour on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/oLHx-SDPHYs?list=PLgcK8nVazACaxxa4tER4Ee6pOny4H0-x5 }

FINIS +

#DrySkin #WetSkin #MySkin #StaySkinny #NoButtsBoutIt #runawayJane

THAT IS ALL THERE IS Y’ALL *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan  ·  Monday, March 18, 2019

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Make the world? Not even close for the denizens of Earth, you are a speck and I am even less

Now you’re scaring me! I have a relatively large ego and I am more than a speck, I’m a soul

In a black hole maybe nevertheless, just a deep, empty void of nothingness, before the Words

At One moment of Nature’s First Cause, Oneness splitting as an atom’s split into two worlds.

Under a microscope, invisible to human eyes, things are alive and moving to and fro in doom

Off of the books in your mother’s womb you go, from nowhere to here and now, badaboom

If and only if you know what happens after the living things die, you’ll know fate’s holy Life

All lives matter for certain, it’s a balance of the good and the evil of the beautiful, loving wife.

If you write a book that nobody reads, was that really a necessary reason for living? Just die!

There’ll be nothing but a rock above ground above a metal or cardboard box, nobody too high

Conditions are ripe for the fruit on the vine to be picked and sucked dry of it’s mineral hiccup

Up and away from the ground of being, the chatter ceases, the blame, the obligations fade up.

Pretend you are on your last ten breaths of life for a moment, you can return to home insane

Jumping into a deep end is better for your head, no pressure sub-surface, deal top of the deck

As above the #ThinBlueLine, so below the #PlanetCore, academics prowl for purpose in vain

Utterly One, being this thing itself completes this imaginary, logical, circular insanity of pain.

Back down to conscious, consciences inside the things themselves, imagine you in a vacuum

In the jungle where bugs and cats want to eat you raw, without the fire, survivors in the ice

Frozen brain in a survival mode without a cerebral cortex, not a naked ape girl or boy person

Halfway house crows sqwaukin’, shoppin’ cart thieves, rollin’ & rottin’ in a Man’s fake prison.

Be born for a reason or none at all, die for a reason or none at all, this makes sense to whom?

If there was no reason to be conceived, there’s no reason to live since inevitable death says it

We’re #Scroomed and that is screwed and doomed together and #AtOne without fake doom

It’s the real one, souls go there, nothing moves, nothing twists, emptiness’ tryst loves #Chit.

by

r j j stephan, i { * THE last flash you’ll see B4 your own lights go out! Enjoy! Bon appetite! }

c. 3-18-2019 A.D. Lundi @ 7:47 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to Nickelback #IfTodayWasYourLastDay & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/lrXIQQ8PeRs?list=PLKE4WpGi4wJoTONZB19Iu6a-F3klNJ8yL }

W.W.A.R.D. ?

#CanYouBuyYourOwnDrinkMyDaughter? #MamaRockMe

W.W.A.R.D.?

#WildHorses #WhatADrag @ricoSacto #ricoSacto

ALIVE EYES LOOK, ZERO-VISIONS *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, March 17, 2019

---------------------------

Barking at the moon’s reflected light from dead stars does nothing for the Pope’s holy Void

Just smile for the same effect, Nothing special, nothin’ gained from an unabashed android

Empty and without matter, without energy, no mass singularity implosion of all seven seas

A tool used and abused from the first rock to the last stone, sticks don’t work on my bullies.

Pointed heads and pointing fingers leave my dream as empty as a holy plastic bag, all’s blown

In the wind, down the street, overhead, underground way below the depths of despair’s own

Summers, winters, ad infinitum St. Patrick’s day of the smashed snake and great, ocean flood

Impossible useless data, induced deductions, evil/live vampire sucklings drink purple blood.

Protein, for the life of the cells DNA and RNA and then there’s C6H12O2 kills It, prematurely

The Gas in a form of carbon, hydrogen and oxygen will turn off the #Work, the #Cells agree

Animated matter, solid liquid and solid gas perform the circus of the sun’s light and thunder

Dug deep down near six feet but the box is three feet thick, therefore, we’re only 3 feet under.

A trail on a path goin’ down a long road to the end of the line is empty, no boots ever’ve tread

No moccasins or sandals, high heels or gym shoes can coverup the nails and toes-up, undead

You breathe now but you won’t at some moment in time, the day after you stop, you’re done

Nothing left to be sorry for, no planning of the future or pining over the past, Presence, Son!

Probability’s high that you’ll die, just like your parents’ folks and every life alive, stun-gunned

When your breath leaves one last time through your face, mouth’s agape, paid a graveyard fee

Revolutionary beans planted in the ground of Be-ing by travelers and warriors, abandoned

Time’s up for this trace of space, to live and to die for, empty, holy, caput moment, a century!

by

r j j stephan, i { *Pickin’ & Grinnin’ your praise of #TheLoad, #TheStruggle to survive! }

c. Sunday March 17, 2019 A.D. @ 7:61 AM PST

{ drafted while jammin’ to Gov't Mule hits on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/A13tUxH09SI }

W.W.A.R.D.?