PERFECTION & UNCOMFORTABLE SURVIVAL BEING THE FITTEST, now #STFU

 -------------GIT, GIT----------------

CARCASS OF A MASTODON? STONEMASON, I AM

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Saturday, September 7, 2019

------ #BREXIT --------

Broken bones of us, hot ice of humans have little or nothing to do with stardirty carbon dates

You are as insignificant as you thought you might be, nothing special, just the DNA, humane

Everywhere in the universities and colleges there are repositories of the Truth, starman fates

Museum of Earth’s historical record is present, extraterrestrial, evolved planets, AHO, amen.

Now the ignorance and the enlightenment will wax and wane, like the Earth shadowed moon

Just because y’all think that your mirror image of the form is so pretty, it wants to reproduce

Power to destroy the black holes of the future are lurking in every atom, in nucleic neutrons

Videos and spoken or written Words are both Up and Down, speed of light’s fated papoose.

Heat from nuclear fusion is immanent as the sun collapses into it’s future eclipse zig heils

Gravitational collapse is only a symptom of the spin and wobble, as the orbital ellipse goes

So goes the mental activity of the brains which adapt to the dormant crystals, extremofiles

Hydrocarbons are getting me too high to think about these eternal verities, as a god does.

In your mind as in my own, we are less than the stardust, the selves are imaginary fools

No power other than to animate a bag of bones and pursue happiness to avoid the pain

Knowledge and power leading to nowhere but the cinders, dead underfoot, killer pools

Pure gas, pure liquid, pure solid and the meaning of that is that, you and I got lucky rain.

I wished for years that the rain would come and wash away all of the memories of darkness

Space and Time mere conceptual analysis of the perception resulting from consciousness

Imagination is real and the real is imaginary, Reality is imaginary, Truth is trouble, eye is

A third one, an eye that sees the Truth through the fabrication, unequivocal Kool-ade fizzes.

Close the book after the final page is turned, you’ve read it aloud, you know it all, it’s caput

Off with the heads of the professors who knew but didn’t divulge the known unknown silk

Smooth and ready to soothe the savage beasts who want to kill, eat the killed, phuq & die

That’s all there is if you look around and ask your friends and classmates, a wall with a fly.

We, for no reason at all, are both here in this Space and in Time going past us, it’s coming

Reminders of the transitory nature of things themselves are how we die, killjoy a ton of fun

Old age’s disease of mortal flesh, like fine wine, humanity’s X factor black holed God ding

Invisible cosmic rays, bright infrared smashed cores of atomic stardust ash, black hole, #1.

by

r j j stephan, i { “Money don’t grow on trees Richie!” -- my truck-driver dad, Albert R. Stephan R.I.P. pops! You are my own, personal prehistoric pops! #EyeLoveYaMan }

c. September 7th, 2019 A.D. @ 6:66 AM PST

{ drafted while jammin’ between the #BirthOfStarsInTheUniverse link @ https://youtu.be/T3X6UxkLP9w & jammin’ to Cage The Elephant #AintNoRestForTheWicked link @ https://youtu.be/wBgp5aDH23g }

 W.W.A.R.D.?

#ROVERS & #MartianDustDevils #PuzzleDrizzle

DISINTEGRATE, DARKSTAR STUFF!

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Friday, September 6, 2019 A.D.

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

Evidence of hydrogen and oxygen in the empty Void, be astonished or you’re not living here

Not now or ever will anything or anybody need the empty space around us, it’s dead air bleed

Radiation and collapsing of the burn we feel as the heater in the frozen tundra, helium beer

Drunken alcoholics are the meat and potatoes of the looping, spinning the dissolving creed.

Creed of songs sung by nobody you knew or will e’er meet other than magic wand, page form

Frozen methane or butane, liquid natural gas, solid unnatural gas, it is what it is, yes, we bad!

Giants midgets on the lam from the Big Bang, lookin’ out for the MOAB, a #SuperNova norm

At least I read the Word and I’m persuaded by the logic and reason of moms’ monsters, dads!

Dying star we all are, the power to destroy you and the meat and potatoes, implode black hole

Shouted from the volcanic eruptions and tidal waves of the wobble and spin, up-down soul

Force of One to be reckoned with 24/7 and 365.9 days and nights, monster evolution of acid

Some power to show all the power but from far, far away from the core, pain reveals the ‘Id.’

Graves and Gravity are merged into one concept, a place for mom, for dad and all of you, US

Nobody, not one living thing, nothing gets out of this place of space sideburns, fire works, son

My daughters, sisters and mothers are boggling my mind, I’m left in my 1 singular, magic bus

Riding without a driver, headed to the Oneness, radiation of the gamma rays, my hotdog bun.

Stars born and stars annihilate the monster Black Holes, collapsing in a Big Bang whimper

Nobody left to hear the sound of the implosion of the core of being, billions of atoms forever

Form and shape of whatever the matrix allows, spread out into the galaxy of solar systems

Ten million black holes are everywhere, facts of life are not given, variable trails to her hems.

Mothers and sisters and daughters, the nuns of the Nothingness smiling, we’re all-in deeply

There’s no free choice after the conception of life, it is what it is and does what it does, forced

No free will to choose this or that inside any human, wouldn’t be prudent you know, you see?

Once you stop the beat, mystery goes on, Truth’s jackpot, to be or not, I don’t know, OM, G!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. September 6th, 2019 A.D. @ 4:30 AM, #WhatTimeIsIt

{ drafted while listenin’ to #TheBirthOfStarsInTheUniverse on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/T3X6UxkLP9w & the #SpinDoctors #WhatTimeIsIt link @ https://youtu.be/4HuPW0_oWAk }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#LineEmUp #KnockEmBack #FillEmUp #WhiskeyGlasses #FourEyes

VIBRATO & BREATHING, ALL GONE

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, September 5, 2019

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

Fire is it, all of it, for a moment or a century, the thrust of the species’ genome is a divine ape

Nevertheless, this here DNA has the capacity to fly or fall, with or without wings or a red cape

Superboys or underdogs lookin’ for the yin yang hook-up from L.A. or NYC’s gold papergirls

Married or single, mothers, sisters, aunts or maids and nuns of the lords, wombs need rooms.

Fell in love or lusted for the taste of the flesh and bone, smells of sweet love in a twilight zone

Fortunato and the amigos drank all the wine in the cellar full of wooden barrels, I’m all alone

Down in the cellar, in the darkness or damp dirt and star dusted kegs of bloody love, godsons

Cards on the table, face up just because they’re played, can’t change the flip, all on, I’m done.

Blue collars don’t hide the red necks that cover for the hide and hair of my kin, gold mamas

Without the shake and rattle of the beauties I came from, I wouldn’t have been space’s time

A tick tock, tick tock, from day one to the last night, cuddled up or huddled up, doin’ chachas

In and out of rest stops, drinkin’ smokin’ eatin’ the grounds of a DJ Supreme Being’s slime.

First move of the First Cause, the origin of the species and the animation of a dead pan alley

Walkin’ on bricks, stones, rocks, asphalt tar and the gas of ice water, hard liquor’s hard, see?

Soft goin’ down, shot after shot until the last one, then you get up off of your bar stool for pie

On the slick sawdust floor, I stumbled, I fell down and broke my face in three, me, myself & I.

Finally, happy hours are done and we’re gettin’ busy between silk sheets of a papa bear’s cave

Fast forward and rewind ad infinitum, nevertheless it’s gonna change and I win with a save

Losing is only one thing that happens when you’re learnin’ the rules and tricks of a holy herd

It’s what you can’t get but hunger grows for keepers, for red, white and blues Truth, a Word.

by

r j j stephan, I

c. September 5th, 2019 A.D. @ 5:55 PM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to Morganwallen #GoneGirl & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/FDrB1Q1NRn8 }

 

 

 W.W.A.R.D.?

#ManyHappyReturnsForTheOne @MickJagger #TheRollingStones-

BONE 208, ON BECOMING A BALL *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, September 5, 2019

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

I rolled the bones and I won the kitty, best pussy cat I’ve ever had, bless it’s little heart’s fray

Nothing in the afterlife for the universe’s animals other than the humans, mankind gold DNA

Expected to populate the psychic after breath where the air is not needed to live forever, see?

Pretend as if it’s true before you die and you’ll have hehl to pay, you’ll be in debt for eternity.

The beach property you won last night in a game of chance is yours with the tax burden cost

Insider operation workin’ for the CIA’s stealth group, unknown to man, you’re dead, got lost

Normal and standard for the moment, ready to mutate into whichever form supports a creed

Nothing to do but fight, eat, sleep deeply in the 7 holes, refresh them to avoid the dire need.

Features of the samples you get before your consent to become conceived for the sake of God

Invisible and without any sensory data to apprehend, the void’s blank, coastal water flood

Bearing down on the purpose and reason for being alive, forced to admit the beast’s nature

To kill, to eat and defeat the prey, defecate the remains, bury it and you and me, our future!

Paper from the wood of the processed tree pulp, we write and type and scratch inky lotions

Words up and words gettin’ down to express the notions, both known and unknown Spirits

When the Earth revolves, it spins causing days and nights of photosynthesized magic potions

Dead men leave words, new men read and argue about the intent of all the World’s fit fights.

Plastic washin’ up on sandy shores along with the oil slicks of the bleeding, crude oil tankers

Carrying toads for the lovers who want to move fast and far, in a hurry or no hurry, hu-men

Who can identify the way to laser every bit of waste in the sea of humanity’s gutless crackers

Those are the ones who boomed, hypnotized the war machine, American woman, I’m free!

For the sake of the main purpose of existence, there’s one thing left to say, short and sweet

If this is not a game, this life is then a mysterious event being hidden from plain sight’s seat

On a throne with the open, holy open pit for wasted germs inhabiting the innermost canals

Necessary and sufficient logical arguments deducing inductions to pass on to all of the pals.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. September 5th, 2019 A.D. @ 4:44 AM PSt

{ drafted while jammin’ to #GimmeShelter by THE ROLLING STONES #LetItBleed cd on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/EJRdDhnTRoo }

*#GimmeShelter Released on: 1969-12-05 Producer: @JimmyMiller Composer Lyricist: Mick Jagger Composer Lyricist: Keith Richards

W,W,A,R,D,?

#TakeMyHand #NoDont @BobMarley @SamanthaFish

NO SOONER SAID, LAW’S UNDONE *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, September 4, 2019

--------

She’ll follow you deep into the bowels of the pit of Hades if you’re leading, A wizard’s song

She’ll follow you deep into the bowels of the pit if you’re a leading blindman, pyre get along

Can’t see anything in the smoke, even with the two-way mirrors that aid a self conscious Id

Out of shape, there is no form to speak of, nothing to refer to other than the nugatory Void.

When the blackness clears, there is only blackness left over, nothing minus nothing for Zorro

No more can be said when the finale is staged and the last man standing falls into a glory hoe

Insider songs sung to outsiders, to mystify the mystery which is the #Unknown to God’s kids

Nobody is going down below the ground before they know the Truth, This is It, eggs in beds.

Living in the history and science books that were hand-me-downs from sisters and brothers

Fictional dreams passed on from a ghost to another until the One becomes enlightened first

Up from the South and down from the North, it’s all a matter of Time in Space for the atom

Speck of imploded mass with an amorphous megabyte of ones and zeroes sent under a dome.

Earth? Come on now, use your mind and the microscopes and telescopes, introspection fails

Truth laid down good, rockin’ row of words created anew, at the Harlem-Irving, in a ‘67 jaws

Screamin’ drag strip at the Forest Preserves off old River Road, or makin’ out for grim tales

Keepin’ the girls from screamin’ and keepin’ the taillights aflame for the law’s cross-cut saws.

Slow down Linda is what I always sing to myself when it all comes down to goin’ fast as hehl

If Linda won’t slow down then nobody will, it’s time to settle down even when you’re a tease

Gotta save a little bit for the end of days when you’re just fine but the end of days comes, I fell

Down to this trip, looks like a movie and you’ve got no idea how it ends, just know, it’s FINIS!

It is ferocious and just a series of functions from conception to inception to voidness’ Id ilk

Do not shoot the messenger with the hate darts of yo’ mama, my man, you got fear of milk

If you can’t or don’t drink it, you’ll die before you get a chance to live, a formula of my might

Power for the animation of the thing itself, a consumer whose consummation is 3 all-rights.

You’re just a punk, you papa said that to me but I knew he was just talkin’ about himself, yea

For I am the winner in the end, I would be a liar if I said that I lost, I win, I loved it alive, eh?

Not in a robot now, not in a casket or urn now, I’m here and now, not broken, all in One piece

At the fire, standin’ inside of the flames and burning skin and bones, ash of a supernova feast.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. September 4th, 2019 A.D. @ 7:11 PM PST

{ rocked listenin’ to Rock of the 60’s 70’s & 80’s on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/b6iBclM2CkI }

* header above poem is my darlin’ & me on Alaskan Princesscruise in August 2019 A.D., oh VENUS!

WWARD?

#EverythingIsIndeedBroken #CheckItAndSee

 

WORDS ARE BROKEN, SO FIX’ ‘EM

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, September 4, 2019

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

Intelligence quotient is divided by the multiplication of the added to subtract a buck back

Where the rubber met the road there were only skid marks, nothing but ol’ burnt pine tar

Coming right out of the twilight zone to show you that I’ve got no tongue or spooky tooth

Everything is missing, old men broken and it’s always been that way, tanned, whitish black.

To be or not to be a snob or a slob, that’s the honor of having a free will to choose spirits

Either the good, the bad or the ugly haunt the world, the Earth, other planets and stars

All of the alpha and the omega in a tizzy fit over who is in charge of the whole shebang

It’s not you nor I, in our humane capacity to drool and drill the innocence out the Tang.

Astral plane of smoke, all too human tractor-trailer jockeys, ebb and flow on Jersey turnpikes

Highways, freeways, tollways and back-roads all contribute to the ape-men flow of old kikes

Where all of the linguistic certainty flows out of the empty Void of a tiny, universal lost mind

Inside and outside there is no such thing as after, all’s here and now, I got your six past nine.

No skin is black unless it’s dead skin, eyeballs are all too human and they’re blind to vision

Think about the language and the culture given to the babies, in utero through college pain

Justice is not what you get it’s what you take from the deal, it’s a Big Deal, it’s an Art, hotrods

Walk away when you know that you can get more favor in the mix, negotiate with holy gods.

If and when the pleasure comes from the pain you’ve lost on the way to the Void’s depository

Squeeze it tight like it’ll never leave your hug, inhale deeply, it’s the mighty fog, broken to be

On the grounded being, dirty dice roll sevens, microbe to star, paradise struggle under a sky

Hold on for dear life’s fear, thieves always bet with the house, snake-eyed dice, scroll and die!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. September 4th, 2019 A.D. @ 1:11 AM PST

{ drafted listenin’ to R.L. BURNSIDE “Nothing Man” & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/mVUIasMNdt4 }

W.W.A.R.D.?

THIRD OF SEPTEMBER, A DAY I'LL ALWAYS REMEMBER...MAMA'S BIRTHDAY September 3, 1923 AD RIP MAMA!

DOG IS GOD, BACKWARD, EH? *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, September 3, 2019

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

Stars and stripes mean more than thirteen bars of red and white in a solar field’s scarlet blue

‘69 Chevy with a 396cc engine, four on a bald headed floor, dual carbs, header-glass pack fool

First heat and the last drag race of the storm, I win, I see, holy pretenders are really uncool

Some guys give up and start dyin’ little by little, some just go in a blaze of crimson glory too.

Blown away under their seats when I clocked that 9.2 1/4 mile, a Camaro tease, oh wetter T’s

No, I never let the word or the world get me down with the rest of my enemy-friends, race me

If I bet I win, if I don’t bet I win, it’s a #WinWin situational ethics type of deal, props to Boss’

There was one, was a hog and there was one risin’ in the back alley, mean street mental floss.

It’s a major revelation to shivering homeless boys or girls with no shoes, God of a Dog, yeah?

Dancin’ barefoot with the dead and buried memories of who used to be here and now, today

Yesterday came and went, today’s goin’ fast and tomorrow may never come for some to play

Forever past the last day, the sun won’t ever set again, it’ll never rise again, it’ll be fine, OK?

Recollect that day you were born into this windy, wet world but you can’t, weren’t present yet

But now you are here and now, fresh from the past, wild eyed and bushy tailed, deep in debt

Sinning before birth, just for trying to multiply DNA, drilling the soul for infinitely long trips

From the rocks and dirt, concrete and steel, supersonic jets, skyscrapin’ steel kissin’ two lips.

I’m goin’ down, way down to the bottom where nobody ever goes, I’m already gone, so nice

You cannot burn me when I am already the flame, so hot that the iron’s frozen cold, blue ice

No sweat and no offense to you my friend but you’re out of bounds, lovin’ my huggin’ frown

Beatin’ my tom-toms, sixty pound stones carried up and down the hill, pops to throw down.

There was thunder on my road too, the lightening kept the way lit long enough to see the end

Across the porch, radio playin’ Bruce and Roy, tellin’ tales of the Man, lovin’ the Woman sins

No problem to get into the trouble of the historical survival of the fit and the lucky dogs fend

For them and their kin, for the orphaned souls, zip haircuts and bald, blue-red painted skins.

To the far side where every loser’s winner finds a hook, a saga of talkin’ heads, clappin’ hands

Crowd works and slaves to pay to hear the sounds of the music men and women of Peter Pans

Sisters and brothers from mine and other mothers of red-blooded, tough, dead roadies’ scree

Fools believed #PurpleRain’s Truth, hooks, lines, sinkers, reachin’ for a kiss, now, cover me!

by

r j j stephan, i * #BeenAroundATimeOrTwoToo - God

c. September 3rd, 2019 A.D. Tuesday, my mama mia’s birthday back in 1923 A.D. Happy birthday from my lips to God’s ears mama! “If you’re ready for love, I’m tougher than the rest!” - Bruce Springsteen LIVE LINK ON A THIN LINE @ https://youtu.be/HSNI0jwsZ9k }

 * * *

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.? NOTHING AT ALL... #SootheYourSoulAnyways

DAZED YOYO’s WAR OF SQWAT

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, September 3, 2019

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

At the start of Fire, when there was nobody, no monkeys, gods or apes here, death pantheons

Not in China or anywhere else over here, God’s cosmic trip of a holy scrotum’s divine health

Putting Yin in the Yang is all it is, nothing more complicated than filling the hole’s in stealth

Brief insanity between lucidity of hopes and dreams of honey and taxes, happy ape-man sons.

It is all a mother and father could hope for, passing the gauntlet of pretender dreams of Pan

To the sons and daughters who inherit the faded crock of bull scat left over by an uncle’s fan

Big time music of rocking and rolling as if there’s no tomorrow, in the cloud, #Stratocaster’s

Plugged in the amp and reverb took over the hall of empty sound, nothing but hot air festers.

Out of the black and blue, night and day of the skies color, nothing comes of it but your tea

To drink or to smoke, never to eat in the sandwich or the flaumbet casserole of a witch’s key

Magic spell of words in a con-game of grafters and drifters who know squat about my papa

Why humans exist, why life exists for the gods’ den, a garden of Eden, oh Venus! Oh mama!

Paraphrased for the punks corroborating comprehensive apprehension, looky here, no hands

A puff and whiff of a jock strap in a pie hole, where things enter before sinkin’ down in Sands

Losing what the losers never find again, a second wind of the second city’s android i-phones

Out of the six feet deep ground below the granite headstones, inside aluminum foiled bones.

Squeeze all of your blossoming flesh, fat cells of your misshaped DNA into ringin’ dumbbells

Keep it all inside of the genome, there’s no other choice, it’s the nature of the hungry beasts

To eat, to drink and fill up holes with the squalor of Montezuma’s halls, food and scat of hells

Madagascar to Antarctica, Rio Linda to Oak Park in America and over to Timbuktu, at least!

It all rolls downhill because that’s where the graves are, underground no more than sixty feet

Where the animals and bugs cannot find you to eat you, only worms where you’ve been to eat

Rockin’ and rollin’ in the groove from the East to the West side of the Great Lakes, all over It

Just in time for the end, I remember it all, WAY down inside me, beautiful! I ain’t got Schit!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. September 3rd, 2019 A.D. @ 4:44 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to #AllDayMusic LIVE The Original WAR Band on the youTube link @ https://youtu.be/n58Vdz67C1o }

W.W.A.R.D.?  FINIS

#UsedMeUp #OneAndDone #SheGrewUpFast oh, yeah! #OhMyMyOhHellYes #LastDanceWithMJOneMoreTimeToKillThePain #PigeonsDownOnMarketSquare #OhMyMy

TO UFOs’ OLDEN DAYS, YOYO YO! *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Monday, September 2, 2019

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

Do not call me baby ‘cause you don’t know me, I’m not in the set you’re in, subjects’ objects

A road recovery freeway directly to nowhere but to a bitter end of land, beach of salty addicts

Neither fish in the sea nor rivers, not even one bug or animal, crawling or flying, dig, you see?

Nothing is getting out of this accidental confluence of wisdom and ignorance alive, naturally.

You know what I want and I know what you want, we all want the same thing, happiness now

Don’t want to wait another minute or for an afterlife based on this one, I want the first blow

Comin’ from above or below, in or out of the ultraviolet light and supersonic hot-air collapse

You know where the party is and I want to go, I want to live to tell the story about no corpse.

Immaterial and just the facts of the case are the prime time factors, much commotion, I scoff

Juice swillin’ and blunt smokin’ romance, gettin’ some fun, woke up wood inside the holy lair

Smellin’ the waif of signals, blinded by the invisible lights of the unknown’s darkness’ mohair

You don’t know like I know, what she did to me, she didn’t know either, accidental jack-off!

When is the party gettin’ started because I’m almost ready to go home and dive for a crash

Won’t need a thing but a pit-stop and a babushka from gramma, a glass of wine from grampa

Everything else is gravy once you’ve had your 1st encounter, lucky to be alive, lucky for Lucy

Luci the Eagle fallen from the rocks and chained to the ground, insider UFO, a cowboy key.

Reelin’ deep in boredom’s ennui, a tiny byte of light breaks through a pinhole’s blow by blow

Sneakers off and kid gloves on, the diameter and radius combine for a circumstantial sale

Our kinfolk are in the fold but they know they ain’t gonna get out of here alive, we’re mortal

Alive and mortal, drunk on purple shooters but the party’s over, trouble is, I’m a UFO, yoyo.

by

r j j stephan, i *Header is an actual picture of a picture in a picture of something, UFO’s!

c. September 2nd, 2019 A.D. @ 7:11 AM PSt

{ DRAFTED while listenin’ to 'RARE-EARTH' #getReady on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/q-Rg9xwZoo8 }

FINIS

What Would Ayn Rand Do? For real? #WackedWakeUp

ALL FRESCO DEADWOOD, ANEJO!

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, September 1, 2019

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

Cacti under glass, after dancin’ in oakwood, acorn husk cells, lumbered the jacked up brick

All the symbols and signs of random, coincidental events rolled up into One savior pun-kass

If you achieve the gift of reading and writing, you’ll locate the Truth and it will be a big kick

See here, look here now, a blind leap of faith will get you nothing but a pretender’s overpass.

In the nasty city where children are meant to be mean in the streets to survive the code Poor

Nothing but hand-me-downs from cousins’ brothers, oh me oh my, 5 and 10 at Satan’s door

Perfectly supernatural and in every way at all times, a mystery of the occult magician’s tomes

Where the spells and reasons for being are listed from A to Z, 1, 2, 3 and you know my bones.

208 of them, some broken and some eaten away by the wear and tear of the breathtaking me

What I’ve done, I remember and have forgotten the evil alive, just a touch of a playboy bunny

Every moment of the Earth’s revolving, wobbling spin and orbit about the white dwarf, sunny

A skeleton key fits the padlock and opens the safe place of echoes from the Big Bang’s degree.

Just the facts that you want to hear so you can deduce a valid conclusion, it’s GD elemental

Earth, Wind and Fire become the nature of beasts who become all too humane heavy metal

Why, where and when, how and who will know what nobody else knows, that #WhoIsOnFirst

You know it, you’ve known all along, since day One, you cried without reason, the sun burst!

Sippin’ or knockin’ ‘em back, makes no difference in the end, only at the origin, dawn’s day

Dancin’ with me or the devil, your choice, it’s freedom and liberty you wanted, you gots it

Nobody to tell you what to do and when you can do it, break the law at your own risky chit

Bet it all on the sure thing, nobody can lose when everybody wins, in the end, punk, it’s OK.

At the party later than expected, my critical mass delayed the inevitable, I’m all #WayGone

Bit more than I could chew when I bit off the fat hunk of tobacco plug but hey, just don’t trip

Movin’ in and out of conscious choke-to-death upchuck, cleared My Way for a stiff upper lip

On the last day before your own final breaths and gasps cease, no regrets, you were my pawn!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Sunday Nine One, September 1, 2019 A.D. @ 1:11 PM PST

{ gestated this creation while listenin’ to #AllJackedUp by Gretchen Wilson soakin’ up some #Jack #WTHOneMoreShot on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/D0wAQNzK0Ow }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#HeartBreakTeenAgeBlues #NightMoves #SweetSummerTime #AgainstTheWind

 THANKS TO NONE, THANK DUBAI*

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, September 1, 2019

- - -

Where the historical man was hatched from the Unknown, garden of whatever, Earth hatch

Illusions began with a fear of being dead, like your ancestors, only rocks and stone to clutch

Nothing anywhere but right here and now in this Time and in point of Form of Space’s arrow

Bygones began and now they are Us and they are present to make of This, as above, so below.

Who is in charge of all of the energy and the power of this planet’s complex of Will control

Tried to find the paths, cried out loud when I got led to nowhere but a mirror of me, so old

As if it’s not obvious, my father’s Holy Name Society of the Roman Catholic diocese of gold

I’m on your side, I’m not your adversary, speakin’ pig Latin or not, we gonna rock and roll!

There will be deductions and inductions that lead to the conclusions of valid or invalid gems

Words from the mouths of educated babes and studs, mind games aplenty to pretend mimes

Making no difference at all to either the genome in general nor the kin with common DNAs

Nevertheless, from the pit of Hades, wherever that’s at in your mind, #Nirvana, #Void space.

So, my daughters, I am apologizing for the presence of my being so candid, yet I digress down

Earth spins, days come & go, we’ll live, think about it, we’ll die with a #Faker’s happy frown

As if this is normal, to be or not to be, answer is not up for grabs, this is it, there’s a song, duh

I recollect from babyhood to the present and await the invisible, indivisible One, will Be, uh...

Look away, look away from here, no wait, watch my hands, now you see me, face of a clown

Really it’s just prestidigitation of the peasant tenants of the garden of Eden, gods’ ole clan

Inside the mind, there is an idea of Nirvana where even angels fear to go but not a magician

High price right up front, you’ll need to pull the sword out the rock, drop the hammer down.

Where there’s smoke, there’s fire because it’s the effect of friction and ignition of the air/gas

You cannot make this stuff up, if you put the atmosphere in fire and burn the gas, life is fast

It goes above Space or below Earth’s core, but it won’t be above the ground, Dark dancin’ It

My father advised, just say the Word and It will be done, divine insight’s epileptic sheet fit.

It’s the way we roll, we say it just before we do it, so it’s just the way it is, that’s all, it’s done

All of the past from this point backward is a questionably recorded set of opinions of drones

Not an easy task to write words and translate from one tower of Babel tongue to Anglo-Saxon

Translations allow a tool to prove any conclusion deduced or induced, is true to a degree, son.

Playin’ the music along with the guided thoughts spin the wheels from the start to the finish

End of the race, the winner is you because you were so fast, you caused the air to blow swish

Crimson Tide or Fighting Huskies, pigskin or apple-basket ballin’, arm in arm with One lover

For real, can we talk, recollect, fall down here, I’ll wait for you, Home at last, a dream’s over!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Sunday, September One, 2019 Anno Domini @ 2:22 Ante Meridian, Pacific Standard Time (PST) Le dimanche 1er septembre 2019, Anno Domini à 2:22 heure du méridien, heure normale du Pacifique (HNP)

*Drafted while listenin’ to Barenaked Ladies yet they were like REAL on stage a few weeks {it’s been at least #OneWeek, lol} ago, in front of me & my darlin’ Carol’s very eyes, youTube link @ https://youtu.be/snZcn3Qt1xI }

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

W.W.A.R.D.?