au GOLDEN DAWN BOBBYPINS #79*
In the psyche within the mind of species specific board games, I’m the monkey, apeman lover
I mean get off of it and stay off of it, mount my back at your own free choice of instant karma
There would be no waiting in line to see what happens in a minute, I was so busy getting over
Getting acid kinks out of the genome in between a Big Bang and a Super Nova, fake dharma.
It’s a miracle that the metal was buried in the ground but Earth is a Dead Star don’t sweat it
What the ancestors pretended to know and taught their kin was in fact, just a bunch of chit
It really doesn’t matter to the ancestors who have passed into the ash and dust or DJ’s locker
Organized crime against the birds of prey and all the mothers that crawl, fly, run or slither.
If and only if your fortune keeps you safe from predators and accidental low speed air crashes
Then you may open your conscious awareness to the body and blood of reincarnated gashes
Coming to be from a defiance of nature, a spirit infused egg without a father, without a man
If you’ve got something to say, say it now, if not, hold your peace until the bitter end, hot fan.
Bobby pins you saved for 2000 years since the beginning of a millennium which has no witness
Now worth millions and donated to the Smithsonian to keep for the sake of Man, I confess
Every day to the ball of confusion in my ball park, on my court, a field of dreams’ day-mare
No music or sound other than Corona gold bobby pins scratchin’ skull, high gold in my hair.
If we can no longer breathe in and out in a rhythm to die for, then a synchronized ego alters
What masks you had before that moment, before the moment your mouth slacked, all agape
Out of the air you’ve breathed since the slap on the arse in the hospital called, St. Anne Cape
Corpus dillecti is immanent if the stiff isn’t found poste haste, so it’s all hammer down hers.
A Goldsmith or an adept at being an enlightened son of the immortal divinity, God or ol’ Zeus
Named by unknown “experts” during their Time on Terra Ferma, spin and wobble in blues
Unknown ‘x’ factor with a ‘y’ and ‘z’ too close for comfort, also without being ol’ Mary Poppins
Who needs you weasel? Immersion in solar fuel, a special and general relativity’s bobby pins.
by
r j j stephan, i *Gold Bobby Pins for all!
Mardi 10 mars 2020 Anno Domini @ 5:55 Post Meridian, Pacifica Standard Time {PST}
{ Drafted after watchin’ @TheDarkKnight #BankHeist on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/vetKTtM7YyU & jammin’ to my radio station #RicoRockHardFavRadio link @ https://www.iheart.com/favorites/ricorockhard-favorites-radio-724148/ }
FINIS
W.W.A.R.D.?
No comments:
Post a Comment
YOUR 2 cents...if you don't mind? ;-)