PHILOSOPHER STONE HOLDUP, RA
Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, March 24, 2020
------------------ #ItsTricky ------------------
Well, finally got a chance to use my degree in a bachelor of arts in a sentence of philosophies
Nothing in particular other than the very first a priori argument I ever effaced, which I seized
Utter strangulation of the thing itself, a Oneness that probably exploded into our bags of food
Not because of meanness or revolution or retribution or punishment but for a bad, real Good.
Think about this, clear mind toward justice and a foundation upon the Truth, gents & ladies
If you were going to die someday before any virus came out of the Void’s outer space Hades
Breaking gaping holes in the atmosphere is like shooting rockets out of a nucleus’ sacred cell
Punching Space with a sacred incense aroma/odor Godzilla: King of the Monsters’ ah, #Hell.
Let us pray not to the inside of your eyelids but to the sun above that heats what’s left of me
In the movies, on the stages, in your paid off homes, rented flats and bungalows, take a knee
Like you’re on the football field of a hundred yards (years) and your ages young as veal chops
To advise you of Wisdom in the KNOWLEDGE left on the stoned, cold-fired up clay Cheops.
Silver lined clouds, golden rocks buried beneath, pyramids, mountains and rivers, It Is alive
Talkin’ about this ball of rollin’ stones I keep putting deeper down into my soul, in a beehive
Where no other worker bees or queens are all gone away to laugh at Larry, Curly and ol’ Moe
I’m the keeper of the meat on the ghost’s bones, where evil, nasty men and women fear to go.
Time in this Space to awaken the dreamin’ youngster over a billion years old, all alone again
Without and with everything on Earth, on the moon and in our solar system, our star’s gin
I found that the empty lining is the philosopher’s stone in my empty pocket, dust and change
From Chattanooga to Chicago, NYC to San Diego up to Portland-Seattle, my domain’s range.
Peek above and over the top of the poles, the same space is empty and there ain’t nothing else
Over the top, probably but in the search for the philosopher’s stone, you had to absorb Celtics
Lore for your reminder that you came from somewhere else other than Earth, inside the Sun
I need the hard rocks of God’s heat of Ra, a Ma & Pa of our own holy kin, we’re the Gold One.
I walk alone without you and you do the same once you gasp that last breath, you’ll be fine
Streets and roads all covered up with the H2O that we all know, it’s flooded and all good now
Water has killed the evil bacteria and the man-made viral infections of skin and bones of Ra
Gods of the Greco-Roman are not happy and neither are Yahweh, Krishna nor mighty Zeus.
Recovery from the inebriation during the entry to the narrow Way, eat viral porridge of a bat
Drunken stupor started my life at nineteen, searched for a home day and night, high and low
Couldn’t find it ‘til right before I started writing about this silver lining I found, here and now
Tally ho, let’s go from Alpha to Omega, GOT STONED, I’m on to It, I don’t know, #HolyShat!
Extinction is nothing but a word until the thing that it stands for exhibits itself, here and now
Once it’s on the way to the end, it’s like going over the cliff, no turning back from hehl below
Search moves from the pinnacle to the receptacle in a Black Hole after the Super Nova blows
I know it’s a bummer, you elder hippies and younger yuppies preceded the millennial flows.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. Mardi, March 24th, 2020 A.D. @ 7:11 AM PST
{ Drafted while listenin’ to VanMorrison’s #PhilosophersStone in an finite loop, lyrics are important, melody is important, the voice is #Key link @ https://youtu.be/PghOffQ-BrI }
FINIS
W.W.A.R.D.?
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