PERCOLATE? 5 9 1 2 MEANS WAR!*
Blind faith in historical civilizations and the markers they left for posterity to recollect origins
How many years have gods been on the planet Earth? Why did humanity get set up for sins?
Fascinating UFO’s are undercover of our sun and group’s collective soul full of giants’ bones
What is written in a foreign tongue is unintelligible because our grandfathers loved i-phones.
This and that system move the stage from the porch, settin’ on the swing, watchin’ the dragon
Sent the same size of living bones into a mini-world of villages and to create another dead son
Nobody will get out of Earth’s gravitational pull alive, if you’re not buried in ash, you’re fired
Eaten in tongues of flames, screaming wimps meltdown into the muck, fake news’ lion’s lair.
You are welcome onto the porch if you promise to get off of your keester and rake the leaves
It’s every year, the trees lives run their courses and enter the hibernation phase, l-air thieves
Unable to eat due to sleeping and nearly unconscious, evolutionary adaption to darkness’ fit
Due to the wobble, the revolving revolution and counter-clockwise orbit of viral bacteria chit.
On a One-Way street, a four lane highway or the expressway to your heart, I know the Ways
It will be what it will be not because it has a choice but because it’s a necessary condition, eh?
Braced for the outbreaks of airborne violations of min-bots in the form of microscopic plays
What goes up must come down, there’s no third choice of thieves, what’s yours is mine today.
What would Ayn Rand do if she found herself on the streets of a capitol city in California gold
I believe she’d be under a gag order to shut the Hades up and not allow free speech to the old
Used up by work, labor doing something for others’ everything’s everything, a universal papa
God invisible, unknown, occult viral contagion mutated into the holy birthplace of my mama.
Here’s a little something for your change purse in your handbag, two bits of a buck is all of it
Why and where to begin the plays of the story when it really doesn’t matter a microscopic bit
Horses harnessed, oxen burdened, the species’ genome is a legacy from the star’s soul’s shine
This sun of Apollo, of Zarathustra or any choice of Anunaki or the men in the moon, all mine!
by
r j j stephan, i *Header is my better 1/2, @CarolAnnStephan gazing at the sunset @PacificGroveCalifornia
c. Wednesday, February 26th, 2020 A.D. @ 4:44 AM Pacific Standard Time
{ Collected this soul addiction while listenin’ to Gregg Allman #ImNoAngel & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/NWNKHi2joJE }
FINIS
W.W.A.R.D.??
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