STARDUST DRY, A FAKE LA BOMBA*
Richard Joseph Stephan·Wednesday, March 4, 2020
---------------- #GodSaveYourKing ----------------
At bedtime when the bogeyman comes out from the closet or under the bunk bed, I’m hiding
Under the blanket as if that armor’s enough to save me, don’t want to be a raw meat nothing
Predators don’t care about your pedigree nor about your progeny but they will sip your blood
Going for the kill first so the thing can’t run off and make a lazy cat chase the thing, the food.
Wrong and full of the rights of the One who made the rules, the First Cause of the Movement
From being at rest, still as the night falls over the half of the Earth that becomes heaven sent
Of these mice and men who occupied the cinders, the dirt under fingernails type of grit, dig?
Tight squeezes of the fully armored host brings about the Singularity of the Phoenix, do a jig.
And then you move out of check with a fool’s mate that only works once on everyone but me
Pounding the zzzzzzzzz’s home before I ever knew I was tired, we all was weary with worries
No matter which way happiness was or is or will be, it’s not an option for a true cardiac seize
Pieces of candy to bribe allegiance to obedience to authority’s random throne, same old story.
I lifed up your host and your wino liquid candy, bread and blood of the gods’ divine son up
Never down from here, it’s not an option from a cradle to grandma’s hands, love’s china cup
It’s all ‘bout hair cuts and your threads, your kicks, serving mass in Latin on square blocks
Down on Damen and Grand, where I grew up on Superior, Huron, Erie and Ohio, the ‘hood.
On being the younger one, playing with snakes in the asphalt jungle, out of gramma’s hands
Dished out warnings, as it was supposed to be, freedom ain’t free, God overpaid the humans
Value of the nugget of data to know before you die is a game changer, your third wish’s blown
So, you don’t like the Truth, it’s God’s supernova man, apple core ain’t mine, Word’s known.
Unwed mothers and jailbird fathers from the penthouse and ghetto flat made no difference
Already gone and some not even arrived yet, the bodies of 208 bones will love the nonsense
Awake and hunting and fishing and fooling around until the sun goes down, then we groove
In the sand on the beach or at the red barn at the edge of town, chillin’ like a villain, I move.
Day or night of my final spirit trap there’ll be a coming to be, day One of the gods’ mortal sin
Full disclosure of the nature of Matter and Energy by Powers that came before us an our kin
All hands are on deck and all eyes wide open, thunder’s ready for an immaculate conception
Black and white or red or blue to the color blinded means that foresight is unseen concoction.
by
r j j stephan, i *header photo is ME circa 1955, I was a mean little MFer, workin’ my karma!
c. Mercredi 4 mars 2020 Anno Domini @ 11:11 AM Heure Standard du Pacifique
{ Drafted WHILE listenin’ to The Zac Brown Band #CantYouSee & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/P-eqfMb8s2I }
FINIS
W.W.A.R.D.?
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