#ThisIsRareEarth #Militarize or give up the cookies! #ResistWeMuch

 

MOTIVES, SPACE’S TIME TO AVOID*

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Saturday, March 30, 2019

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

You can’t tell when something is going to fail, it’s the nature of being alive down home, here

On the Earth, the dirt, black, red and gold lucky to be alive for a moment, all of this is Fear

Of being all alone in the middle of nowhere with nothing but an empty vacuum to ponder me

It is one of the facts of life, these quantum theories of everything are in the computer’s scree.

Come home when you’ve been away forever, it just won’t look the same in the cosmic rod

Complete spunk and funk coming out of seven holes in God’s face’s skull, a dead demi-god

Golden God, yes sir, be obedient to The Master, there’s only One Way for High-Tech stipends

Live alive and be dead in death, that is all you can do, all you will do, unless your dream ends.

If you look around or deep inside, it’s identical, within and without a head, we all gotta die

It doesn’t matter if you’ve been loved or if you’ve loved anybody or anything at all, souls fly

It’s either an empty conceptual analysis of the things ratcheting up my bloody hemorrhoid

Or it’s an incredible notion that all of these things themselves come from nothing but a Void.

The inferior needs the superior to compare the mirage, instant ghosts in every orgasm spurt

It is how the spirit enters into the genome’s spunk, to be or not to be extinct in wipe-out Dirt

Star dirt is the used-up, gas emissions of the black holes and white dwarves, ghostly coolers

Punk rock and classical overtures come in dead people’s suits on the hook, dead-god killers.

Didn’t ask for a kiss but you took one from me without permission, it was sweet, we, all good

After time and space were swept under the mat, decades rolled by, I died, you died, we all did

Once upon a time, twice, thrice, multiple times, NUKE war OTW, ad infinitum 5G ping-pong

Boys and girls taught to obey the law, press buttons on and off, pay the tax to bang the gong.

Army, Navy, Marine Corps, Air Force, Coast Guard and reserves of warriors defend this chit

Stand down and don’t defend yourself, see what happens tomorrow, actually, you won’t see it

Eyes won’t be wide open, the mind will not be bent to the pleasure and pain of being the Man

Hu-man being specially created or randomly evolved in a clap-trap, a star-kissed a tuna can.

by

r j j stephan, i {*Header is a masterpiece of rock hard, human symbol of the ORIGINS!}

c. March 30th, 2019 A.D. @ 2:22 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to NewsRadio KFBK-1530AM the Richard Syrett spouting tantalizing broadcast, paranormal, conspiracy, #AI & whatever the Cosmos hacks into! Boom, link @ https://www.iheart.com/live/kfbk-fm-am-217/ }

FINIS

#PERFECTIONisRIGGED #FakeNewsIsTheWholeTruth @ricoSacto #ricoSacto

A LITTLE SOMETHIN’ TO JUMP FOR

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, March 28, 2019

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

Way up higher than ten feet, the hands’ bones slam on the rims, no longer hard rocks to fall

Easy as a swish through a nylon net, big boys and girls throwin’ the pea down, jammin’ a call

A little game created to keep the young fellows out of trouble, without it we’re doomed to see

Just a civilization of smaller skeletons, less than six feet long, two feet wide, miraculous to be.

Computers, #2 pencils, ball point and fountain pens, vaporized trees’ pulp into leaf pages

To capture the light and the ink in accepted, standardized forms, to read and digest sages

Wise men who told some tales without giving away the secret, why we’re here, who we are

Gods gave a narrative to the scribes, they wrote it, we read it, nobody ever knows it there.

Until you and I reach the final showdown, before the fear of death overtakes your tiny mind

Think about it, you were thinking of things and soon you won’t be, it will all be over my kind

Presence of sons and daughters of the unseen, above the matrix’ essence, below a poop deck

Children of men and women are what we are, that is all, no more or less, hey what the heck?

Motivation to move up and down, in and out, over and under in a 360 degree kind of circle

Is dependent on the ingestion of proper sustenance for the apprehension of momentum’s pill

You and I and no one else but the first man you met on the street, horns blown, here and now

Back doors side-locked tighter than tom toms, snares and a bass drum, skin of god’s spells.

Strings to rub the sound out of the friction, melodies and rhythm from hearts’ ebbing souls

Provided the stuff that dreams are made of, nothing substantial, no substance of tide flows

In or out of love, in or out of veins, bloody feelings seem to be all there is, either to be or not

Nobody knows, philosophers and priests pretend to know, the sheeple’s need to be a robot.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Thursday March 28th, 2019 A.D. @ 7:35 PM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to Joe Satriani “LIVE” #AlwaysWithMeAlwaysWithYout youTube link @ https://youtu.be/BsJisD7n8_Q }

 

 FINIS

#NightFreaks #BallsToTheWalls #ThePoynterSisters

NIGHT FREAKS, EYES & HIGHBALLS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, March 28, 2019

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

What it does to fight back, urges to meet your true self’s Oneness, drunk, mid-field of dreams

That you will know before the sixty seconds of the New York minute flies by in cyber-streams

I ain’t kidding, there can never be another doubt, it’s all about how many years pass Go, see?

I’m not sorry you’re findin’ this all out later in life, there never was a secret, you flew over me.

I won’t put myself in your place, that’d be a rude thing to do, I’ve got manners from mating

Early training to excrete in the proper, civilized manner was most helpful to attract dating

Ready for the simple and complex to occur and awaiting my logical response to the causes

Being able to explain my personal flaws in behavior is my forte, it ain’t my fault, Ma’s & Pa’s.

Resistance to the concentration on the Truth and accepting fantasies of reasons for being One

That is all that keeps you here, surviving and striving for the food, the clear water, quenched

Backpack of the animals with hands an feet, not claws and paws, rules of the code, Adam’s I

Nothing makes sense if you follow the syllogistic logic, premises assumed lead to solid Ends.

My mama told me that my daddy did some things to her that caused me to be here, I believed

Notions here, to the ones who think they’re gifts from the gods, Yahweh, Ala or damned Dead

Your hands confiscate the Truth, amend it and accept it until your final gasp of oxygen’s fill

Then, you’ll know extinction’s ghetto and never be embarr-assed by a Void’s contracept-Pill.

Begin the trip, afoot come the thoughts and inventions of work, causes and effects of Life

In a cell’s DNA or a man’s or woman’s heart and soul, comprehend without matter’s wife

Energy flowing from a burning ball of gas, a star called Sol, Uncle Sam’s big sister of damn

Nothing particular and everything in general comes from this and that, you name it Sam.

Manipulating the thoughts of the dreams you can never remember while Nation conscious

That’s the easy part, getting the stubborn jackass to move forward with a massive load, us

Brief moments in the maze going forward, backward, sideways, up and down, copped a feel

Dreams that moved a desire to homogenize homo-sapiens’ orgasm orgy for Buddah’s heel.

Lovers’ haters come and go without any warning that I ever pay any attention to, so, my #Bad

Unintentional, I got priorities of attention, things I can do something about, I forget to so sad

Out of control my Breath’s Death, how can I suppose that my Life would be under my powers

To be or not, that is all I can think, therefore, I am what I am, babies ain’t mine, they’re hers!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Thursday March 28th, 2019 A.D. @ 7:11 AM PST

{ drafted listenin’ to Curtis Mayfield #SweetExorcist on youTube link to #KungFu & HITS link @ https://youtu.be/1X3-DqUve08 }

 FINIS

 

#CheersForBeers @SamanthaFish In #ricoSacto @ricoSacto

CON THE HUMANS, LIVE, JUST BE *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, March 27, 2019

sssssssssssssssssssssssss

There is surely a struggle to survive when you’re all by yourself, but then there’s a meow

For to be or not to be is all up to the feline’s mind, you cannot put your eggs inside a cow

Neither today or tomorrow, little puppies and kitties will never know, drinkin’ #SloginFizz

They think we’ve got this living thing all together yet we don’t, to be or not to be what it is.

Uncle Romeo from the #OldCountryItalia used to say it’s all but a joke but #ItCouldBeWorse

If you knew the end of the consciousness of your being and what brain death is an air Force

Not even one little, living cell gets out without a scratch, Life itself is animation, future tense

The End of the movies, the finale of the performance you’ve given in front of a Live audience.

Compared to daydreams, nightmares fill in the empty spots of random neurotic responses

In the void between your ears, between the stars and our sun, there you are again and again

My mother sang that song a million times on a paper recording of her voice at the state fair

Way, way back in the 1940’s during the WWII years, my dad came in mom and I don’t care.

Paramount in my programmed mind, post conception, gestation and birth’s routine progress

Either in the transformation of inner or outer being, male, female and android high priestess

Dead or alive, the point is that the Unknown will kill you and I, eventually, sooner or later

Regardless of your comprehension of ultimate Truth, it is what it is, God is a fool’s #faker!

In a feline way, I don’t want to eat you unless I’m starving, there’s no other choice, oh people

Grocery stores, short stops, mama’s house, never my pixels in the church’s RNA germ-hives

Rubbing in the mud and sand below the ground, genies appear in blue-green smoke’s vibes

High lows, cat’s claws scratchin’ to survive a kitty collusion illusion, Life’s feline-predictable!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. 11:11 AM PST Wednesday, March 27th, 2019 A.D.

{ *Header above poem is OUR cat, Samantha Fish while she waited for me to bring the treats down from heaven! & drafted while jammin’ to Samantha Fish herself, HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/7JF8fjwkhW0 }

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 F.I.N.I.S.

#JealousAgain @ricoSacto #ricoSacto #GotNoTimeBaby

#CloseYourEyesWideOpen

STICKCROSS, JIM DANDY’S RESCUE*

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, March 26, 2019

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

You’ve got nothing to do since you’ve retired, you always thought you were your job, oh blues

Without a job but getting paid for not going to work any longer, the future’s real dark, snark

In between the birth of your body and mind, here and now, just be happy, snakes in the park

Some living things not only never get your privilege but also can never walk in your shoes!

Cards played, dice rolled, horses on Lasix, people and cows on steroids for muscles to move

From an alternative universe to another, suns’ infinite, irrational calculus, checkmate groove

Give up and relax from your head to toes, even without legs you have the ghost afoot to fuss

For the sake of pure reason, the syllogistic formal logic of my brain’s function is in Calculus.

In English or any other language created by man prehistoric or not, microscopic virus’ Id

A thing itself, that hides within every atom of everything, electronic trippin’ balls to cough

Inside the nucleus of every cell, this thing itself exists in perpetuity, no air or food, no-shyt

If and only if you’re tough enough to handle a Truth I’ve discovered, get ready or back off.

On the level, there’s a beat of the drum that goes on when you’re out of the cosmic mix

It’s the same one before and after the sun’s original Big Bang nature, y’all need this fix

You don’t need anything other than your hearing and understanding, ready to de-bone

Green light all the way to the end of the runway where you’ll ghost fly a solo flight home.

Gratefulness for the liberty others fought and died for is lacking, that’s life, an unholy Liberty

Freedom to be or think anything, logical, irrational, either way, #FakeNews’ illusion come, be

Alive and waiting to die in a vacuum with nothing but the risky work, Marx’ gold, old God sin

Tom-toms, snares, bass and high-hats, #BeatMe in a Ninja con-game, wooden sticks, begin!

by

r j j stephan, i { * PackMySpaceSuitForTheTrip NoSpaceWalkForFemaleAstronauts }

c. Tuesday, March 26, 2019 A.D.@ 11:11 AM PDT

{ drafted while gettin’ caught up on the Trumpism of the day on Rush Limbaugh’s EIB network broadcast on NewsRadio KFBK youTube link https://www.iheart.com/live/kfbk-fm-am-217/?pname=15400&campid=header&cid=index.html }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#LovelyDayForPlayinComicCons @JoeSatriani #Squares & #ShreddedFretology

7TH SON, SUSIE Q & A BOGEYMAN *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Monday, March 25, 2019

sssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

I came down to Bombay to save y’all from yourselves, got so hungry for my flesh and blood

Y’all almost ate everything born and raised on Earth, burrowing or flying could not get away

Future shock to know your presence is locked into someone’s empty stomach, a dope head

Playin’ along for the ride until you can figure out the avenue of escape from the water flood.

Hydrogen and oxygen have their place here and there, rivers run through land like bleeding

Around in circles around the brain and heart to show the minions the Way to Be, live to die

Like all of the rest before you and I, angels and devils all made up back of a widow’s tin cup

In the center of the forehead that puts the horses before the carts, makin’ irrational chit up.

Here is a pain for you in your heart, in your chest to make you think about the pain of Being

Alive and dealing with the pushers and junkies on the back and front streets near Sing Sing

A prison inside a super-fly skull to keep your mind in the prison where you think it’ll survive

A momentary lapse of our mother’s contraception, father’s lack of reason, therefore we live.

It’s all good and it’s too bad that what is good, better and best is just the invisible, ghostly one

Smokin’ and snortin’ the shots and beers like there’s no tomorrow, suddenly, you’re dead son

Time to reminisce about the time you spent alive, presence of the ego, repeating a wet dream

What hurts and causes the most pain is a stab in the heart with a girlfriend’s mocha cream.

Born in a nest, a bed of straw or stuffed sponge foam, maybe right in the mud, all to be alive

Pain and suffering of the host matters little but there is much of that to go around the hive

Where the honey is made and stored in the combs for the queen to munch durin’ the hatch

Cajun queens chasin’ hoodoo in the bayou near New Orleans, 7th son born in a swamp patch.

Sound off on the sweet words that make the little girls go out their adolescent, fat deadheads

They rock and roll, they groove to the rhythm and beat until the motion of the oceanic bleeds

Orgasmic twitch of the nervous system’s bad, ugly seeds, deposited goodness into the friction

Left in fertile quicksand, grounded in a secret microchip sucking me, #LetsRide original sin!

by

r j j stephan, i { *header is #VeronicaLodge from Archiecomics.com ready to shred her Fender Guitar and Amp Society! }

c. Lundi, March 25th, 2019 A.D. @ 2030 hours

{ drafted while listenin’ to Creedence Clearwater Review #SusieQ & Multiservicios ZztopHITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/6l3owsZJRAs }

W.W.A.R.D.?

Runaway June - Buy My Own Drinks (Live)

 W.W.A.R.D.?

#TurnTheQuietUp #ChiefEricChirch @ChiefEricChurch

 

NEITHER HAIR NOR THAR, 24 HRS*

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Monday, March 25, 2019

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

In the middle of nightmares, sleep’s still on your mind, brain not firing at full ops in the fray

Just one more thing you’ve got to do in life, you’ve got to live it, you’ve got to go out to #Play

Like you’ve never played before or else you’ll lose runnin’ the jungle animates, lucky egg yolks

It is probable that this animation in front of our faces is all there is, at the end, that’s all folks!

Tomorrow though, you’ve got to get on with the art of living on Earth, avoid Death and Pain

Never been to heaven nor where I was before my mama met my daddy in bed or sandy beach

From Lake Michigan #LSD goin’ north to Wisconsin cheese, never any rain, #Sonny, for free

Cloudy and overcast from cement and asphalt to the antennae on concrete rock piles, use me.

My little brothers never taught me not to let others walk in my kicks, my shoe’s leather lasts

I ain’t confused about the nature of being and my own, I am the One I’ve always followed tail

In frequent trips around the ball of dirt, the world spins and I reverse it, future on to the past

Long cool woman or a short hot man mixes menudo to #PHILOdeRICO on a trip that’ll fail.

Because there’s a #FirstCause requires that their should be a #LastEffect, a merciful silence

Not a pin drop Georgia peaches, right at home and ready for a program from the #Void sense

Imagine nothing but emptiness around you, you can’t even see your own splendid, empty self

It is as it always was and will be, luck of the draw, you won and you’ll lose, put that on a shelf.

But your hair will grow as if there is no tomorrow, nothing can stop it but a baldness DNA tic

After skin, body and organs cease to function, hair grows forever, immortal follicles’ are chic

Bones left covered up become what the dirt of a dead star are, cream of this dream down a leg

Or up to the face’s holy entry of the matter, flowing unformed from the essence of the plasma.

It is in the blood, it is in the air, it is what we are without a personality, Blue on Black is It, All

In the course of the spin around and wobbling in place, a world’s mystery remains, a downfall

Above Star-dirt, ‘bout middle of tagged stars, space a pretty little lover’s index finger quiver

#Gold dollars’ll let you float down muddy water to #Eureka, it’s #Gameover, Hi Ho #Silver!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. 25 mars 2019 Anno Domini à 06h66, heure normale du Pacifique 

{ *drafted to Lynyrd Skynyrd #BalladOfCurtisLoew link @ https://youtu.be/71qaX05-ArM }

<3 br="">

<3 br="" nbsp="">

W.W.A.R.D.

Runaway June - Buy My Own Drinks (Live)

W.W.A.R.D.?

Louis Prima - Sing,Sing,Sing (With a Swing)

W.W.A.R.D.?

Chickenfoot - "Soap On A Rope" (Official Music Video HD)

W.W.A.R.D.?

"Disease" - Rob Thomas

W.W.A.R.D.?

@TheRaiders - #MySteadyGirl [1958]

...a place in @Pacific Grove @California you will never find!

W.W.A.R.D.?

#HitTheSpotOrNot #NoGravityTheWholeWorldSucks

HIT THE SPOTS, UNITED STATus *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan  ·  Sunday, March 24, 2019

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

Friday after five and me and the boys went up/down to the club in jungles of river Amazon

Everybody goes to the place where you can get anything your heart desires, excepting One

You’ve got to completely stay awake for the Truth and not fall asleep in the middle of the It

All you have, all I have, all there is under the black carpet of space and burned out play/skit.

Please and thanks for the explanation of the unknown, stoned contradiction to be, never die

To be eaten or buried, maybe burned or left to the sharks a blue sea, H2O flow ion-bytes high

Look at it this way, my way or the highway which is yours, the road has a fork you & I choose

There’s no going backward to where you came from, in a holy hole’s not an option, can’t lose.

In the church, in the cave, in the temple or mosque, the obedient mix with the rebellion’s ilk

No law or regulation can stop the putrification of the Word made Flesh, your God is the milk

Stop the air movement in and out of the thing and it will deteriorate and evaporate into ashes

Time and Space do that to every beast that has the gall to evolve out of the sun dried beaches.

Got up on the horse, rode more miles than I could count by the time the day was done sunset

In the middle of nowhere with nothing but a brain, a mind, ethical training, a philosopher pet

Around the block or the world is the same distance, it’s pie ‘r’ squared, #BFE symbolic 3.14 x

A point on a line, moving until two trails go sideways to an imaginary meridian, asexual sex.

Now, get ready, #STAT and be offended by Evil living in your Live blood, drank ‘til drunken

Putting in as much as you’ve taken, you’re about even with the matrix of the universe’s Token

Goin’ fishin’ in the sea, near the lake banks and rivers’ brooks and streams, missed a mystery

Last breath in deeply brothers and sisters, sweet while it lasted, indeed, slopes were slippery!

by

r j j stephan, i { #DeepHead #IceChest #ColdBeer #Boat #Beach #Camp }}

c. Dimanche Marche 24th, 2019 A.D. @ 11:11 AM PST

{ drafted to Morgan_Wallen #UpDown in a loop link @ https://youtu.be/77qc4ZtufzM }

W.W.A.R.D.?