YOU MUST BE KIDDIN’
Saint Valentino took off yesterday, had to fix a sprinkler while being sick as a dog, no prob
Dog’s aren’t pall that sick for any reason so I should have gotten over myself and itched a lot
Headache, backache, chills, fever, no problem, get to the store and get the sprinkler replaced
Sick as a love rabbit who thinks that a man is anything more than just all too human, I’m god.
If and only if god is everything and everything is everything or nothing at all, it’s the kill fear
Man nasty and mean when the syndrome of the mind and brain atrophy and become a bear
Ready to bite and finish off the kill with a swipe of the claw, sliced into four nice pieces of air
Polluted and infused with the oxygen and hydrogen lost in the ocean of salt, sugar baby hair.
On the back burner on the backside near the darkside, the dream withers away, peace no mo
Just a hassle from the dawn ‘til the dusk, all my fault for not awakening before the nightmare
Because after it began there’s no stopping it from runnin’ its course, origin to go ad infinitum
Pairing or going solo matters little to me, I slither, I am and if you can’t stand me, lemme go.
Dust off my feet and get ready to hit the rails, in the freezing cold of night, no shoes or socks
Barefootin’ from Maine to California, from Northeast to Southwest, the train’s out of tracks
Perfectly at one with the frozen tundra above as well as below, Star cinders of Earthenware
A point is moot, my love has broken the burden of carriage, the weight of tortoise and a hare.
In a race to the finish line where angels fear to go and couldn’t get to if they tried, it’s a dream
Angels never dream only humanity does, dreaming about being angel dust or devil seed, I am
Fixed and innocent of the crimes of the creator, leaving the cash for a spousal cache, ah Maw!
Forever or never’ss a matter of concern for the living not the already gone, my old fatal flaw.
I got to go, I got to leave, I got to move it like I ain’t ever moved it before, I am what it is now
Always was but I forgot for a New York minute, when it counted, I counted myself in or out
Never to return to the stasis of the powers that be, that never were in the first place or second
This chunk of junk has kicked it off around the clock, not a matter of Time any longer, Space.
Droopy eyes and runny nose just don’t get the sympathy deserved, it’s all pretended, unreal
Analyze the concepts over ad infinitum and the conclusion remains the same, deduction zeal
Know it all now that I’ve penetrated the failed safe that contained the Word, sound byte Om.
Then and if and only if you come around to the origin of your egg, it’s the Holy Papa in Rome.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. February 16th, 2020 A.D. *This was in my heart on St. Valentine’s Day, for my sweet wife!
{ Drafted while listenin’ to a 2014 @JonnyLang concert at the @BigEastyCoventGarden link @ https://youtu.be/7ibJn_7fQzQ, saw his band last night in South Lake Tahoe 2-15-2020 for #StValentinesDay }
FINIS
W.W.A.R.D.?
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