#DontCrashNow #SonOfA #WeWillKickYourAssassin #Tree is what my pops used for #3....also, my mama's name, #Tree..... yo, yo! 1,2,3,4....

TREE OF MY FAVORITE EARTHLINGS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Saturday, February 1, 2020

We all only got what we give, what we gave may not have been enough if we’ve got it, nothing

I’m right behind y’all on the way to the end of the road where nobody gets off on a finish line

Taxes every year on the labor of you and yours, paying for only the Power of One knows, jinx

Pretenders following the leaders into the Black Hole where angels fear to go, age of a sphinx.

Dreams in a form of music that plays sounds of notes of scales without being seen, air waves

Interpreting the given into the style of the way of your beasts of burden and your saddle bags

Carrying things and memories you can’t forget from the cradles to the graves, deep in a sink

It may be true or false but nobody can come back to tell us one way or another, truth is Pink.

It’s a musical philosophy, words and rhymes and beats and riffs and runs up and down scales

In the middle of it or on either end, the infinite line has no being in angular, triangle squares

In the cubed heads above the necks of 200 bones, less the cranium, headless horsemen know

Where and when this thing itself is presented in egg, matter of DNA stardust-form, it’s a go.

You get what you got because it’s a return on what you gave into the genome, evened Stevens

It’s all there is between the essence of the matrix and your own id and superego, I am the sins

All of it, every single atom and charm in the struggle on Us, in the Void for a karma kid’s ear

No way to know and one way to find out, hit home runs is what we do, one, done, outta here.

Below a bronze statue of an immortal bunny rabbit, still got the music in you, teens grow up

Just a minute ago we were hidin’ from papa and mama, now we’re goin’ solo or duo stuck-up

Kicked my arse in for no reason other than to shame the unknown, the last One to even hurl

Neither you nor me, myself or I, not your betrothed spouse or your steady friend, a #boygirl.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. February 1st, 2020 A.D. @ 1:11 AM PST

{ Drafted in moments while listenin’ to some #DreamersDisease #YouGetWhatYouGive by THE NEW RADICAL 激進份子zzzz on youTube link @ https://t.co/bI1GRLZjm0?amp=1 }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#IsThisMusicInYouOrNot #SUPERBOWLSaturday

FEBRUARY, SPELL IT RIGHT LEFTY

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Saturday, February 1, 2020

- - EGOISTIC GNOSTIC PLATO- -

Jig was up about a hundred years ago, back in the days of grandma and grandpa depressions

Of the men and the rats who ran the streets in the alleys full of trash and the men who pick it

Highly paid for takin’ the trash to the dump for the minions to crawl about and find the gems

Thrown out accidentally, white trash and brown grounds and black ashen dust of her hymns.

God had no loins, that’s why we’re here to show off the creation of flesh and bone from Space

Matter in the hands of nobody you know, occult, magical effects from spells of a wizard’s face

Crumbled bones, dried up blood ready to be wet and flowing once again, dead but never gone

What moves you, moves us all remains alive when you die, it’s a tour de force, all too human.

Now in this presence of Time in this Space, recollection is everything, never forget the Truths

Cause is One First movement in the middle of nowhere, inside of the cosmic egg of a dark Ho

Hard to get in and easy to get out, that’s the way love is baby, narrow way it’s always been too

Fathers of mothers who make sisters and brothers from just a shot in the darkness of Fruits.

In the garden of Eden I had a thought, I was hungry for food to move through my upper GI

Tract of my beer and pretzels, mustard, catsup, pickles, lettuce, tomatoes, Super Bowl Brie

Dips into the gullys of the chips and celery sticks, cream of the dill or the garlic bulbs, I win

Bet on it, the team that wins has the realm of football gods above, y’all promised to Star in.

It’s over when it’s over, it’s said by many since grandma’s hands tucked me into a revolution

Rapid pace of days & nights, increasing the gods’ fizz, darkness overwhelms cosmic sloe-gin

We run, we walk, we crawl and we roll slow or fast when we step on the gas, burn mortal sin

From Hell-fire, Super Bowl Holes & White Dwarfs come divinity’s bet, holy defecate, I win!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. February 1st, 2020 A.D. @ 5:55:55 AM PST

{ Drafted #SuperBowlXIV Saturday before the Light of Dawn spun into my window while listenin’ to #GrandmasHand by Everlast on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/4f-PVsqtzVU }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#FearAintHere #DreamsAreDyingInTimeAndSpace

GOD’S DAMS & GRAMMA'S HANDS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Friday, January 31, 2020

---------------- #BabyStepSOS  ------------------

Y’all know what y’all can do with this bowl of mean and ferocious men who want to win It

What It is is an unknown, it comes and goes with the annual wind of change, nobody’s fit

All unfit for the trip around the world’s presence of being, evolutionary trip around a star

Burning the hydrogen and oxygen and pollution into the vague, amorphous Void of Dada.

Features of the creatures who worship their only option as a creator, whatever is #Ups

Never, ever what is down under the ground to the open-fire center of the planet’s crust

Nobody knows anything about the reason for being but these holy hominids think of It

Miraculous beyond a wild thought of being in a SuperNova or a starburst’s Singularity.

I’m no Einstein or Kant nor Socrates or Plato but I’m alive and they are not, trump fans

In the game of life they lived and said their piece of this #TooMuchTime on the hands

Grandma’s hands and grandpa’s sweat and tears put me right here and now, grati pal

What I do with it is not their fault but to their credit, without them, I don’t exist, et al.

Back stronger than most to carry the load of the debt that yo’ mama owes God for mortal sin

Come back to paradise when it’s all over, Time and Space don’t last past the 21st new century

It will be done as you see, it’s all you got, everything in the One thing you call it all, me me me

When you know the Truth it won’t hurt but you will hate it, it’s hard to handle it, I am All In.

Now we move from the happiness of having it all in a ball of confusion, embraced my milk

Teats of mama to put us on the lonely road of consternation, possible annihilation with ilk

A mere hundred yards either way you look at it, field goals for three, extra points for none

Championship Football kicked and thrown post to post, offensive line that’s defense’s fun.

Nothing attracts flies like the worms of the Earth’s skin and bones of animated sunlight, US

Oceans and dust of the crust leftover from a Big Bang’s song of lonely-ass freedom to Be done

Loads of the matter turn into the energy flow of your rivers in your mind’s eye Twilight Zone

If and only if you get to the end alive and can look around 360 degrees and see Truth, Zeus!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. January 31st, 2020 A.D. *Happy birthday to my grandma XOXO in Jesus’ HANDS, R.I.P. Josephine Lipuma-Alfano 1-31-1909”

{ Jammed this out of thin air this AM with nothing but my grandma’s hands that lifted this baby into the universe’s cosmic dust, #GrandmasHand #LonelyRoad on youTube links @ https://youtu.be/4f-PVsqtzVU& @RLBurnside @https://youtu.be/jhKqqYuV9MU }

#Shot above is a #Flashback of my Zen rockwater noise at my retired #Workstation for the @StateOfCaliforniaDeptOfConsumerAffairs!

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#BrandXYZ #RollinTheRock #LetUsRock #IFeelTheMusicInYouToo #RIPTwoFour24KB

ZA, AJA, HOMBRES & TOSTADAS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, January 29, 2020

============ #FlyInForTheTrial ===========

NOTHING, Za, Aja oh mama, written up in the sky ‘tween US and the suns of my demigods

Sorry if I’ve offended someone like that mother of invention used to, he Zappa’d the hotrods

We still use it to beat the dead horses we still try to ride out from the battle to a holy sunset

It is a crime but it’s not a crime, it’s a stalemate chess game where nobody wins, losers, Git!

Penalty for disobedience of the law of straight and narrow road from birth to death is prison

Locked up in a rat cage supplied by the holier than thou humanity-in-charge of the herd’s kin

Nobody gets out dead or alive my friends, a fecal matter of not who ya know but who ya blow

Skippin’ rope with your sisters in front of the house on the sidewalk with their friends below.

All’s just a distant recollected Time within a presence of Space between your ears, holy scum

Magna cum laude to all, drop a dime on ancient teaching of images, not many but um, some

Inside dark caves where our forefathers used to hide from being porridge of cat-dog menudo

By the ogres and monsters who thrive on cool jazz of animated bones, let’s eat, an innuendo.

Father of all of the godmothers uses the planet’s system of 20/20 hindsight of cosmic dust

To be or not to be and then to wonder why it all matters to anyone who becomes mankind

Of course there is no answer but there is the question and that is why we pass the Time out

When there’s no Time Out’s left, you call Time Out anyway ‘cause Yota said, ‘Live, we must.”

OK for the Star War and the Battle Star but the Star I am, here and now in a presence I abide

Because I will not to be as I willed to be in the first place, concept analyzed, incestual joy ride

From First Cause to the moment I am in and see before me, blinded by the light, Deaf riches

I was and will be what I am, product of 1 x 1, not 2 but another 1 of the many sons of beaches.

Tan, bronze, shined black opal and obsidian to make the world a better place for me to avoid

Obedience to creeds of mentally ill dead men and dead women, unknowns left the gods’ Void

Amazing and blinded by a blaze of blown atomic matter, living large like ol’ Huckleberry Finn

Wonderman, yeah you know, whirlybird’s down in the hollar, up old Tom Sawyer’s hind end.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Janvier 29th, 2020 A.D. @ 6:66 AM PST

{ Blasted from the face of the rocks of Earth this AM in MY #GaCave while jammin’ to the #BestOfMilesDavis on youTube @ https://youtu.be/Me9RXpbKIso & Steely Dan #AJA & HITS link @ https://youtu.be/fG2seugAgnU }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#Phantasms & #PerfectPussyCats #EyesGotMessedUp #DrinkMuddyWaterToo

WE GET WHAT WE GAVE, IN STYLE

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, January 28, 2020

-------------- #EyesGotMessedUpYo ---------------

Pinch me so I can see if the dream’s real or fake, easy to see when it’s as bright as a dark star

Music fades but filled up to the hilt, where angels fear to go above & below toothpaste tartar

On the divine teeth of the empty ether, simpletons find TheSimpsons to be One, animated

Wanting the horticulture and the civilized tongues of the Word and signals of the favored.

Got a reason to live, got what I gave and I gave it all for the kid, gave my life in a flash of scat

Couldn’t save myself and couldn’t save the world not even a hardass roach or dirty ol’ rat a tat

Not only was the fix in but also the fix was guaranteed by powers that be, not even li’l old me

Awareness of DNA within and the Void of Hercules without the genome, is It all there is, free.

In the left ventricle or the right auricle a pump of living soul moves the beat of the rhythm bit

Reasonable and rational as the smile on my face, worn on my sleeve, my emotional rescue tea

I got exactly what I gave, sometimes nothing, sometimes something or other, I’m double Two

Fear of ending in a thick fog of a 5 freeway soiree, reality is as it happens, Black Mamba’s blue.

Now multiplied stats divide running of the miracle mile for the fortunate sons’ shave lather

Leaving ro eggs and the insemination animation to be out of will power control, say it later

Got to be down on my knees for this dreamer’s disease, it’s not my fault that it’s all there is

Opened eyes and closed mind yet bombarded by the cosmic light stimuli and kool-aid fizz.

You might say ‘Beat It’ but it means nothing unless you’ve got a back-up to enforce in-outfits

Hands clapping, legs dancing, music deep inside me and you, don’t let us have epileptic fits

Keep the faith and the hope that the love will never fall completely apart, just snappin’ fjords

Bottom line’s crackin’ the cover and disappears with Time’s flight in Space skeert passwords.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Janvier 28th, 2020 A.D. Rita Hayworth (1918-87) Natalie Wood (1938-81) Magic 8 Ball drafted @ 2038 hours listenin’ to #DreamersDisease #YouGetWhatYouGive THE NEW RADICAL 激進份子s on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/dD6il4cEEfs }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#WOKED #PostThePest @SANTANA @WARtheBand #CalledOutFromTheBarrio #ForgetAboutIt

POE'S #WOKE, DONE GONE FISHIN’

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, January 28, 2020

-------------   #ChancesAre  -------------

From the honkeys and the Toms come the grief of the drifters, from the tracks of ghetto chit.

Gave the two new kids on the Chicago blocks of 2020 A.D. a peanut butter sandwich tattoo

On your forehead where the people look to see if you’re good, bad or just as ugly as grandpa

From the bottom of the barrel of monkeys, where wise men fear to go, they die there #Bro.

When it’s all come down to this, it’s all enough to kill a horse or at least beat One into bytes

Tiny fools lovin’ the small bag of money you got in your backpack, look out, reaper’s comin’

You can’t stop it, you’ll drown or be crushed or maybe just left out to rot in the God’s dam It

From the honkeys and the Toms come the grief of the drifters, from the tracks of ghetto schit.

You know what it’s like to die right? Behind your shades, behind your eyes, there is It, a Void

Down, dirty, up your sleeve with an eternal thrust into darkness’ form, I’m a singularity droid

Into the days of a blazing, burning out Oxygen generator, cosmic light turned into my breath

In and out of my mind’s lungs, the theory goes, you’re born, live and die in the end, it’s Ends.

I have no PhD or MBa but I got a shirt on my back and boots on my feet, blood, taxes & fools

Everywhere, all around the place in space where I am, Ma & Pa dropped a dime, how I rolls

Maybe a Tootsie or a Rolls, either way the thing itself is no more nor less than rat snitch scum

Below the slugs and moles, barnacles and mitochondria congregate to prepare the infinitum.

Lights came on, I blinked for a hundred years, it dawned on my day, spun my star’s asteroid

Angels are nothing more than everything other than me, my baby’s learned Ego, super Freud

Full or empty of the Words that made the Flesh, it all is comin’ down to a holy, post mortem

Living left hangin’ around the deep state’s holes in grounds of being, all there is, It’s all done.

Golden pity on the dearly departed for leaving before you & I, no worries, you got hot thighs

It’s a comin’ hot mess, singin’ about it, you know it, last taste & gasp, cut out sunlight’s rise

Into an Event’s horizon you go, stretched into microscopic lines of the Black Hole’s ugly Good

Invisible, indivisible and all of It, One left over, relaxed a Big Bang’s Puff, bled out of blood!

Jump the phqn freaks from behind, there is only a game without any rules left so we eat it all

From the red and black dirt minerals and the refused junk in the yard, come what I am in Fall

Runnin’ dozens and grossing out the innocent and the beautiful minds of raped alien dreams

#Woke and awakened consciousness, I animate the cartoon’s body and soul on BlackJack 49!

Lonely road with too many thoughts of the rights and the wrongs between me and star gazes

Long and narrow, no way to get on the shoulder, on the gravel, it’s an empty void of ho-Azzes

Ends from the Original Bang, it was Big, it was Small, It is all there is, debt to pay in full first

I jumped up, I jumped around, first and last move from the emptiness, skate into of course!

Blast I had today, I hope we can do it again but we probably won’t, it’s over when it’s over chit

Freedom and my choice to be alive or dead, watchin’ the rules and regs, hoppin’ all around it

Eventually the Event Horizon pulls your super-Ego into the bottom’s top, tip of the caput pill

Equalizers left in white houses of DARK trash, swimmin’ with FISH in heaven boys, eat, kill!

by

r j j stephan, i #NEVERMOREnevermore

c. Mardi, Janvier 28th, 2020 A.D. @ 5:55 AM PST

{ Draft Kobe-completed Ends while listenin’ to #Angel by E V E R L A S T ( B A N D ) on an eternal loop link @ https://youtu.be/89hOIUAobYY }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#HeresTheDirtyLowDown @BozScaggs #WhatItIsIsUnbelievable #GetMeOutOfThisWARD

END ONE ORIGIN OF REVOLUTION

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Monday, January 27, 2020

------------ #INNED -------------

As the universe is, the world we live in spins in circles, as it was intended after the Big Bangs

Many and the One in conflict with the gravitational collapse and the myriad of quarks’ things

Blocks invisible and indivisible as the Void’s nature allows, absolute emptiness in the middle

Where angels not only fear to go but are not welcome, no where to use winged, airless flight.

Space is empty and needs no wings to move from point to point in the matrix of cosmic slop

Mess of atomic and subatomic macro-media that moves in conjunction with Earth’s #TopCop

A man behind the curtains of Oz, runs the show as if nobody cared because nobody gives a F

About doin’ the right thing for everybody else, the concern is for survival of the One, the Self.

Without an agenda other than, breathing, eating, shatting and sleeping, only procreation’s It

Sons and daughters of the mothers and fathers, the DNA of the solar system’s funk, godsends

Amazing that you got here at all in infant form and outstanding that you now use it, depends

On light in the doom’s darkness to the blaze of special relativity theory, atomic excitement fit.

Mink coats of the critters who crawl and scurry through the humanity of garbage dumps’ ilk

Food fight for bugs and worms that fulfill the evolutionary dream of yin and yang’s cow milk

You get it and survive or you become the food for the critters who survive and recycle punks

From your beautiful and handsome skin and bone and personality to the hole in buried Funk.

Name the babies, girl and boy, let them grow and eat their way to the end of days, corpus Di

Agape eating holes, relaxed muscles of the defecate holes of great men and women of society

Bring the hate mongers with the lovers of the Word together in one party, on the Titanic fly

Down yonder from the middle of nowhere, here, now you are, congratulations to it, my scree.

Utters of the cows give us milk that our own mothers refused to give, humanity’s formula tea

Minerals and vitamins for growth of the form from a pound to two or three times more, I see

Blinded by the bright lights that come out of nowhere once the birth right’s been dealt thrice

A recollection of The Thing itself, immortally mortal, living dead, GODS trump bad advice!

by

r j j stephan, i { *Header’s my cousine Nadine Stephan, MODEL extraordinaire X #POND }

c. Lundi, Janvier 27th, 2020 A.D. @ 2:22 AM PST

{ Drafted while listenin’ to the Grateful Yank I mean, the #GratefulDead #TheDead @ theDEADstore full of Great moments in Libtard History, here’s a link, I report, you can’t decide WAR THE BAND #AllDayMusic & #HITS can @ https://youtu.be/coHUt4si8Oo }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#YouGotTheMusicInYouToo #YouGottaPullThrough #AintGotNoTimeInTheWorld

LAID & GOT THE MUSIC YOU GAVE

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, January 26, 2020

*TIME *SPACE

Open up the emptiness of the thing itself, you will find nothing like what you see in a mirror

It’s everything else in every other real world that doesn’t matter, find WAY through the door

Not only do you not know there’s a door right there in your own mind, in your head, but well

There’s a dreamer’s disease, like it or not, the Truth was told, a Lie offered, rung hell’s bell?

I fell from grace with the powers that be not even knowing that they existed, I mean, late calls

Neither here nor there yet able to influence random occurrences action, intended serendipity

But that is only because you don’t hear the music inside of you when it’s stirring up the balls

Reasons to live to give and get back all you give to the whole shebang, cosmic, chronic, free.

Everything from the alphabet to grammar, spelling, phonics and a logical deductive reason

It’s all about the language talking about the things inside and outside of the human minds

Each and every one only a piece of the starshine comin’ from 93 million miles from big sun

If certain things are true about the nature of this beast called man, then bend over to kiss it!

Why don’t you kiss it? No morals or red lips, nothing left to do except pucker up, kiss THIS!

Goodbye now, we’re through, see ya on the rebound, you are worried about your death pang

It hurts whether it’s shared with a friend or associate but it doesn’t matter, living evens it up

Success with the beginning from just an idea, a thought about an orgasm moment, in a cup.

Next thing anybody knows, from a moment of random recombination of genetic fizz, I come

From the bowels of the machine I am both within and without control of the causes’ effects

As what was at first nowhere in sight, I speak from the pre-ovum state, cracked your ass-in

What in the intercourse of horses are doin’ tryin’ to fool me into a false sense of loving sin.

Dreamin’ of laughing until I cry all night long, found the light in your eyes, music’s scars you

You got it, don’t let it go, don’t blame me for the reasons you think you got what I give, Nope!

That ain’t it, give it to me now, I don’t care if you don’t give it to me ever again, hang on rope

Found the music in Me, it wasn’t just inside of you, you got yours, I got a reason to live too!

Hit the telephone pole in the alley on on a Harley because I had the dreamer’s disease, yup

Laughin’ now until I start to cry in the darkness, as my dreams lie dying, the music remains

I hear it in my head, says I got what I gave, I gave it all and I got everything, it was everything

In the crowd there’s a miracle waiting to transubstantiate into One’s Soul, then THEY CRY!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. January 26th, 2020 A.D. @ 10:10 AM PST

{ Created after crash landing on the twelfth moon of Jupiter while being distracted by blasting Newrad #YouGotTheMusicInYou #WeOnlyGotWhatWeGive #GiveItToMeNow link @ https://youtu.be/DL7-CKirWZE }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#LivingInAMateriallyFunkyWorld @ricoSacto #ricoSacto

UNHOLY, MUSE OF FIELD THEORY

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, January 26, 2020

----------------------------------------------

One is taken aback with the words being both read and understood in a context of daddy’s Id

Where everything is indeed, everything and nothing is a certainty in search of the Cisco Kid

Where you come from makes no difference, not an iota of reason why we’re the shape-Forms

Matter in atomic bits and pieces of charm, a thing itself as a philosopher knows love’s worms.

Recollection of what will never be, what you and all of the angels wanted to be, a demon seed

With a mighty will power to create somethings from the sweet nothings, until they’re all freed

She’s gone and he’s gone, as an anthropomorphic consolation to be a booby prize of a breeze

A monopoly of both the wealth and the poverty of existence, coast to coasts across seven seas.

Many clues for perusal at the leisure of the apes who care why they’re spinnin’ mortality’s sin

In violation of Laws of 1st Cause’s effects, an argument exists, that Life’s a perpetual function

Of all atomic matter in any form’s shape of star dust, with or without the love we have, AGOG

It will be OK and it won’t matter once you get a last blink and turn off the lights of my BLOG.

For the sake of filling up the dead air between the poets and masons’ rock-gemstone freedom

Will has everything to do with causes’ effects, control The Will and rough diamonds will come

Time to time, in the living space you call home or away from It, gravitational collapsed souls

Wishing it wasn’t that way will never change sex’s Big Bang, Pulsars, Dwarfs or Black Holes.

Lyrics and notes of songs unsung, unwritten, inconceivable microdots of the trips you tripped

Changed your and your kin’s DNA forever, mutated divine DNA, angels’ fear, double-dipped

Darkness without possibility of parole, improbable while you read this Word, poof, no today

Immense space between ears and betwixt galaxies that boogie-woogie my Jersey rock-a-way.

Dancin’ in light or in darkness matters to nobody but You, You are all there is, It’s old school

If you allow vile, evil, live thoughts of cry babies to influence your life, a six gun will be done

Spread to the suckers of liberty and freedom, given from General Washington to Grant, who?

Yeah, I get it, you be doin’ yo’ thang, Love misses your lamenting rap of mommy’s drool, fool.

No comments, I’m serious, I’ve nothing further to say other than God is chaos’ finale repartee

All that’s left is the War I leave in my wake, a gravitational collapse of the underwater salt silt

Stardust meant for the Singularity’s stretch of a vicious Atom’s holy Eve of destruction today

From down under to the tip top of where I was and will be, I Just Love Skulls I’m #TheKilled!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Dimanche, Janvier 26th, 2020 A.D. @ 5:55 AM PST

{ Cryptic analysis in audio form and without prejudice, predicated on 20 minutes of uncut Isaac Hayes #DoingYoThing link @ https://youtu.be/G_RhJuh7VWs }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?