GODS HAM! #MamaMia #WeGood @MA @DonnaSummer

{}

6 ANGELS & HOT BLOWN 4 OF JULY

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Saturday, July 4, 2020

--------------------   #MA  --------------------

Time really doesn’t move the shadow on the sun dial, it’s the spin of the twist, a par 4 course

Rocks rolled after the center exploded from the gravitational pressure and centrifugal force

Teed off early and finished with a 111 for 18, my first 18 ever, my last 18 I’ll ever log & putt

I think that I gotta GTF outta here, because it’s not my thing chasing a lost ball’s deep rut.

My words and your ears that hear the string of alphabet soup breakin’ into your open wound

A head cavity filled with grey matter, to guide the local hero from event to event, lost or found

Day by day. night after night, dragged lines from first dawn to the last sundown, rain or heat

I’ll throw down with you or anyone else if necessary but it never is, nobody wants to get beat.

Peace and love from above only because it’s been decades of crystal blue persuasion’s smoke

From the camp fire to the forest fire to the wetlands and wet markets, gone bat crazy to croak

Love has nothing much to do with any of it, diamonds and gold can’t get the immortal keys

It’s just a monster’s bowling alley, we’re the pins and heaven and hell throw the trajectories.

Philosophical blues pulling the existential ego out of the genome, just for kicks, a quickening

More than ever before, your memory recollection about why you’re alive in privileged singing

I am the subject of objective reality, I diverge from a timeline from now until power intersects

Marx and a tiny proletariat dancer loosen the chains for the commune to implode for the sex.

Ruling bishops and royal court of kings and queens justify the Way by a quick manifesto jerk

A gentleman and lady will get their due, they paid their dues, suffering DNA of Thor’s mama

Just because you think you’re so pretty now and then, you gotta admit you look like ant scat

Saturday night in the house or outside the bar in the alley, either way y’all gotta go in a splat!

If you’re a big leader of a big country full of a gun powder keg ready to blow, just back off ‘em

You have no choice, you want to protect your citizens, your denizens, your parents’ offspring

This is a chess game and you know the rules when you’re in check, you gotta move that thing

Go home instantly as soon as you resign, a force to repeat future shocks, God’s ad infinitum.

Tempted to do the right thing to avoid the guilt and self deprecation, I love to hem the cuff

It’s a beautiful thing that we do when we do unto others as they’d do unto our guts, as above

So, below the hot stuff tonight or tomorrow above the matters and forms of the shock of love

Shock into the presence of what comes after the Past and before the Future shocks, hot stuff.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. July the 4th, 2020 Anno Domini @ 4:00 PM PST

{ #ToTheVictorGoesTheSpoils #BeepBeep #HotStuff #BadGirls wrote while listenin’ to Ms. Donna Summer R.I.P https://youtu.be/kLjTYWcNzmg }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

@BozScaggs @STYX @BJThomas @VanMorrison

IT IS FINISHED, CONTRACT THIS!

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Friday, July 3, 2020

---------------------  #NotEvenAPlugNickel ---------------------

Fading away with the holy strings of your feline type of crowd, all ready to scratch eyes out

Don’t comply with Desire that moves the cats and you’ll be hissed at, talkin’ ‘bout yo’ mama

By the minions who only care about the water, the food and the phuq which kills the doubt

That there’s maybe nothing outside of the Earth and we all are living in the last resort of Ga.

Now and then here and there in Time and Space’s matrix, you gotta take control, don’t be shy

It’s not a time to be a little baby or a boy when it’s time to Rock and Roll, a fight for blue sky

Since the first day and up unto the final gasp of gas on the last day, the men and women talk

Of the men and the mice of the historical record that got the light to shine on Darkness’ ilk.

Yet the only thing stopping up or down from the stairwell to Cielo or Hades is You and Me

We are all going to die a mortal death with these 208 bones, like it or not, immortality mute

Except for the only One who can make it alone, it ain’t me babe, I believe an illusory creed

Pretend that knowledge which is power is obtainable but it ain’t, know nothing, just bleed.

Native North Americans lived by the shrinking body of water, dried out ash of the Good Fight

Great Lakes used to be a monster ocean, water evaporated and left the deep H2O Lakes of Ga

Earth keeps spinning and leaking the hydrogen into deep Space, point unknown, Egyptian Ra

My thoughts and trips between the bed and dark rooms I enter without benefit of violet light.

Meander around the cultural plantation for the bulk of existence, laughing, crying and dying

Never because you desire this existence but only because you’ve awakened, sword and shield

Wondering how to get food and shelter and friends to avoid pain, suffering in a killing field

To be divine is to be human without fear of Death, to be ‘all too human,” Chicago’s crying.

Punishment for the crime against humanity is eternal banishment from the herd, dead meat

Which is what life was before it fell away from your skull’s bones to the ash of me and Levon

Science and Religion metabolize into the gravitational collapse of the invisible divinity’s feet

Leftover atoms of gas, expanding and contracting until the Singularity mutates It into Avon.

Rags in ragtime and riches for Richie Rich, all of it is a necessary condition for a wasted shat

Taking it all away, subtracting the stuff from nothing leaves nothing at all, that’s a blown fact

What you don’t know WILL hurt you and what you Do know won’t, it’ll take y’all way higher

Than monks and apes hidden in caves, armed to the teeth, waiting for God to kill for hellfire.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Friday, July 3rd, 2020 Anno Domini @ 6:66 AM PST

{ Drafted while listenin’ to #RaindropsAreFallingOnMyHead by BJ THOMAS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/sySlY1XKlhM}

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#EnoughIsEnough #Gino & #DaddyGee @SteelyDan

2 MUCH IS TOO MUCH, ‘50 TO ‘20 *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, July 2, 2020

--------------- #VictimOfTrueRomance ----------------

Mama mia and my papa were married on this day, July 2nd in 1950-1956, duplicated on high

Four of the mix in Italian and Irish-German red blood, soon to forget ancestry of rolled to die

Thrown into a wild field of dreams of my parents, some knew them and some never, ever will

Except to assume that I personally am the dynamic combination of DNAcid, chromosome fill.

Communication between two or more receivers of audio-visual-olfactory-tactile-taste of Sin

One you weren’t present for since you personally didn’t exist in the universe, it’s your fault

All of this Earth revolving, wobbling, orbiting in all-star formation of hydrogen lit explosions

Coming from the center of Nothing but a signal of compression of matter, gravity collapses.

Consciousness and a holy soul let loose by Powers on the Thing Itself, land’s sea of quicksand

It’s the Truth, that’s the Justice of the whole shebang, mama used to say too much’s too much

Should have been obvious to start right at the precipice of Enough because enough Is enough

Groomed after Conceptions for a clear deception’s formulation, a dreamboat in a dreamland.

A boy in the light and in the dark, fear and loathing what comes creeping in and out of life

A mind of memorabilia from day One to the presence of the hunger and lack of satisfaction

Under the sun or the moon, in the brightness or in the shadows of night, star still shines in

Whiskey and moonshine keepin’ me up and plants of Mary keepin’ me down, copacetic pin.

Alright you now have the codes of conduct, the good and evil before and beyond the graves

Same old story and same old song, different word recombination of the Acid, cowboy haze

It matters yet it doesn’t really matter at all, Jack Daniels is fine, Hamm’s all refreshing who?

Once a hammer goes down, only smoke’s left but I won’t be invisible, rhythm fades to blue.

Born to crawl and never to run beyond the leaders of the pack, watch them lead over the cliff

Walking is fine, way behind preferably to stay away from the stench, dying well fed herd stiffs

All forms of the same thing, 208 bones, 840 muscles all with a bad attitude from slave ships

Who we were way back when we ran around sidewalks, alleys and streets dead ends’ whips.

Your heritage don’t matter to the Dead and Gone, what matters is that you see me eye to eye

With your country that you depend on for your God’s dam of food and drink, mom’s apple pie

Putting on your thoughts which are caused by WORDS you read in a manifesto, division key

Tied down with me at the whippin’ post until sundown, then escape is mine, Ghost is in me.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Jeudi, July 2, 2020 A.D. @11:11 AM PST

*Ma & pops (RIP) married on THIS DAY long ago. Happy 70th !

I was their first child born 13 months later In Wedlock...pops may have been shootin’ blanks!

FINIS YAHOO! VERIZON!

W.W.A.R.D.?

#ObscenityConsumed #AllSystemsGo

PHILOSOPHER’S CHEVY INFRARED

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, July 1, 2020

----------------------- GA GA ------------------------

I’ve got some news for you, dear mams and sirs, I apologize for the method of delivery FedEx

Where I used to work for a quarter century, a place created from #Scratch, must have been It

A deal with the devil could possibly explain the nature of the beast within, without justice fit

I am the realm and in charge directional trajectory, survival rate of mice, men, Queen & Rex.

Creative notions against #ThePeople of the U.S.A. both the old and dying and newly born ilk

Fodder is used by the living before they become dead, burned or buried but why drink milk?

Just because you think you’re so pretty? You think you’re so smart yet even with it all, sure

You’ll become without the electronic charge in your nervous system, it really doesn’t matter.

Not militant nor the three stooges doin’ Vaudeville makin’ #Talkies for Chaplin or the gins

That’s who has the principles, the philosophy of the meaning of why the magic spell’s spill

Where there indeed may be nothing but the Space you see on the darkside of Earthly spins

Constitutional muster is not the extreme left nor the right it’s right down the middle or nil.

Online computer essence of camels and sheik harems goin’ jihad, flip of a coin on your dime

The Latter are the Real Things, beyond, before & after as well as present Time, Earth revolver

Wobbles on an imaginary axis, a concept of the middle where there’s nothing but the Forceer

That is inside of us all, live and dead matter moving through us, food to shat, all wasted Time.

Bonus for boomers shared with elders and the millennial mass of atomic DNA, all ready to go

In a solar flare’s shadow or in a penumbra of a star, we know we know what we know, oh no!

Now the Truth comes out, you’re lucky you got here, you’re lucky to be at all, a million to One

Answer this equation X=me then you’ll know what to do, fallin’ into infinity’s blitz of the fun.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. July 1st, 2020 Anno Domini @ 3:33 Ante Meridiem, Pacific Standard Time

{ Jammed out of the Void early this AM while listenin’ to #WePeopleWhoAreDarkerThanBlue by Curtis Mayfield Music on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/iSDCPKsSf2U )

 

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

"#EyesAreBlind & #ICannotSee #RightOnForTheDarkness" -- @CurtisMayfield

BACK TO THE WORLD BOY, YO MA!

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Tuesday, June 30, 2020

-----------------  #GivinYouABreak ---------------

One chain don’t make no prison mama, you know that you taught me to be so GD fool cool

Nothing gets under my skin without me knowing about it, I overreacted to Catholic school

Production of the fame and fortune is still in the mix of super hero, bein’ ghetto-bum lucky

If you don’t know what I’m talkin’ about, just forget about it, pretend I didn’t have the key.

To the beings alive on the plains and prairies to the coastal and inner cities of the 7 ‘bumps’

Where your babies and parents were born and raised to see your face on #FakeNews frauds

Letting the strangers who’ll never actually see or know you or I, who we are, y’all are chumps

Never-land in the palm of the pope’s and oligarchy tripe, stealing your freedom for the gods.

Alrighty then, too much is too much, like my mama used to say, yes and I say daddy too, yo!

But if and only if I can irritate the powers that be who regard blind faith as the gospel truth

Not I said the blind man to his deaf brother on his cellphone, he could read the text forsooth

Out of nowhere the End comes shootin’ right past your face, you can hear the swoosh go-go!

On the other side, there’s no other side by the way yet, let’s entertain peculiar notions of folks

Until there is no other choice than to conclude that this is it, we’re alone, it’s what she upshot

This is all of the nature of being and nothingness, existence and super-mankind, a god jokes

Telling the punch line after the final gasp of thin air, survival of the fit and even then, caput!

From the avenue in Chicago from the lake to Oak Park, I ran the C.T.A. 12 cents up & 12 back

To and from the squeeze-box lessons my daddy and mama squeezed out of their teeny stack

Greenbacks came from working, as much as possible for the minimum wage, below above it

Making the democrat machine the button pins by the thousands, for mama’s & pop’s skillet.

Happy is a word but the feeling of happiness is much more, that one you get with my rejects

Out of the darkness for nine months and into the light for the unexpected causes and effects

Luck of the draw, your spirit picks the lump of 208 bones to be, as long as it’s a possibility

Random causes and effects in the future have already become the past, Presence is the key.

Treason is the reason for all of the stars and stripes, rebellion against a crown of hacked gold

Fifty stars, thirteen stripes for the patriots who know, who recollect the sacrifice of the bold

Monkeys saw this liberty being done and they wanted some too but didn’t know what to do

So, an King and Queen and I turned the spigot OFF, not a trickle or a drip from the big Ho.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Mardi, June 30th, 2020 Anno Domini @ 4:44:44 PM PST

{ Drafted while jammin’ on Curtis Mayfield Music #BackToTheWorld on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/g2udbdAmdkc }

 

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#ShipAhoy #BringYourMamaAndSisters #AintThatAmerica @JimmyBuffett @JohnCougar

UNPOPULAR HAPPINESS, GIN-RUM

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Monday, June 29, 2020

----  #YoungManInaTShirt #GreasyHair ----

In a manner of speaking, I’ve already found what I’d lost being born into a new faux family

Of men, of mice and the virus to the bacteria to the forms from silkworm to angry bee hive

Blood & bones created by the gravitational collapse of my atomic matter, It Is All I ever see

There is no other rational explanation for the existence of bloody gods struggling to survive.

Paranoid leaders moving to where they get advised to go by #BigBucks, ain’t no mercy boost

To the foothills where the roads are closed to the drifters and harvesters of my Acapulco gold

More of the Many than the Few are allowing the unelected and elected to rule a shoddy roost

Thinking ahead of the bus stop in the middle of the riot, the ghetto now, All broken I am told.

Where’s the tonic for the gin, that’s what I’m wondering and why not? You have a better gin?

I have the #TopShelf and you have the bottom’s up swill so that’s the end of the story, I win

Completely in the hands of the unknown and somehow more adept than I, supreme will of Id

Part of the Ego that I am, I allow this to be, with or without me in tow, I know, it’ll the CoVid.

If and when it occurs that the entire realm of existence is dependent on viral pandemics, Die!

It’s all over, historically, the grand illusion of the living left alone by the dead’s pie in the sky

Ouzo is what we can squeeze out of a crystal bottle’s neck, a tyro, a rookie, punk of a gangway

Head punk. new punk, all gonna go to the same place, to the fire or the dirt, my daddy’d say.

Full on foolproof method of freezing the hot matters into dry ice, where angels fear to go too

Because the burn is instant, chromosomes be damned, nature cares nothing about pedigree

You & everyone else will lie down, as y’all lay dying you’ll think of the errors of being human

Raw or cooked, the skin and bones remain the same, like the song, a rhythm in the key of C.

Now and then, from the hollar I hear the call to return for the things I forgot to bring it along

Knowing nothing special about anything in particular and just a casual observer of all that is

I have less of an ego and id than I used to when I was just a kid, wet behind the ears & wrong

Skip the olive, dry or wet, I’ll down either or both with or without you, just pour a 151-gin fizz.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Lundi, June 29th, 2020 Anno Domini @ 2:22 Post Meridiem Pacific Standard Time

{ Drafted while listenin’ to Looneytunes Adventure on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/j8hsq-mKLzg }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#IDontDrink #AlwaysDrunkOnSunlight @JohnPrine

G-FORCE IN REVERSE, CHAMPS *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, June 28, 2020

 ****  MinimumSecurity ****

From the grandpa to the papa to the son, it happens that it all rolls down the Sierra foothills

From Wisconsin to Chicago to Washington & on to the end of Earth, California kills fagots

In the gas chambers, in the electric chairs, on the hanging platforms, flies in the sky kitchen

But I got a swatter to scoot them out the screen or snuff out their short life from a maggot.

Spinning around for no other reason than there is nothing else that can be done, I’m thinkin’

Yet, it’s impossible to come to a definitive conclusion before the bitter end of life stinkin’

In a cadaver, a corpse or a sliced thinly piece of protein for the cannibals to consume raw

For the sake of the mighty and the weak, the Void, the Matrix, the World is in your hands!

It’s your mother’s or your father’s or sister’s, brother’s, aunt’s, uncle’s or cousins’ meat raw

Imagine all of the lonely DNA which has no sun to shine on their balls of solar suns-in-law

You, me and the rest of the genome partake of the only thing keeping us alive, fish alewives

Immaculate conceptions and Assumptions into the Ether, getting killed, come back jives!

Behind the dirt plows and snow plows I come from the 208 bones of each operator of a crane

Living to die and dying to live is the only way the Winters knew, it happens ad infinitum slim

All of the gigs made up out of thin air, right out of the caves, with the bass and the sax, insane

Fission of my atoms, fusion of our molecular structure into the icy H2O Mars to the Ukraine.

What never matters is what doesn’t breathe in gas and metabolize the mischief that ensues

Nothing in the seams or the creases between the sheets because it’s all caput, cook #ActBlue

Cash in a #ThousandCurrents from Hollywood shocks and awes of babies in Hades’ #Tides

Director of financing the money laundering through the Matrix, is God’s son, #SlowRides!

Piercing the skin there is nothing but blood and bones, ready to go where you were before

Give me millions of your pounds of gold and silver, I don’t want your greenback-digit store

Who has the billions of value that will give the mortals’ immortality they can never procure

So, out of the oven and into the all-too-human mouths, coco chips in cookies, on a skewer.

by

r j j stephan, i *header is my kin, Grandpa Al, pops Stevie & 2 sonny boys, #Ich & #Jamz

c. Dimanche, June 28th, 2020 A.D. @ 9:11 AM PST

{ Drafted listenin’ to John Prine #HouseOfStrombo https://youtu.be/w5Rkm_dqm7A }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?