#CrayCray #OnIt #GalacticGuardians

SWEET LORD, #CHITOWN HOOKS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Saturday, August 8, 2020

------------- #BLENDED -----------

Women and men shading their nekid kid and give their best shot to fool the inner 6th sense

That all of these mothers and fathers know how to tell their kids that they will eat ignorance

Told not to worry and everything will turn out fine if you keep on crankin’ out the miraculous

Fine in the end and so fine appearing in the form of beauty, natural with or without all of us.

Now, later I’ll tell you what happened before you were conceived as a kid on the block, Thing

Nothing more nor less than you’ve been taught by the family you trust. all boxing’ in the ring

Formula One or Forty Nine matters not even a twit, it’s all sayin’ nothin’ while makin’ noises

In a formula with no recipe written down with directions to create, two wrongs make it right.

Squirts of the Truth squeezed out the turnip greens of farmland dirt, crust of Earth’s butter

Naughty yet natural in the mind of the beholder, speaking from experience I’m not bashful

Needing and wanting inside of the 208 bones and miraculous experience of pains to suffer

Working for the score to become even-Steven, as if it ever was in the first place, be merciful.

Cause of all these effects from Earth’s core to outer Space is an Unknown, almighty specter

Supreme Being, First Mover of Everything in the Cosmos, in every atom, a molecular factor

Songs of beats and twangs, voices of air and convulsing lips and throats, sugar a pretty mate

If you have a sweet one, you’re mating will succeed, if not, it’s a lonely life ‘til your last date.

No can do, can’t love you because you aren’t the One that I’d die for, I’d have to let y’all go

But for The One, a funeral pyre is all I can hope for, I can’t sit on star clouds in Space, yoyo

Never a chance I’d be good boy in Hehl either, probably organize a break out, a reincarnate

Be that as it may, being as such is a matter of a dream form, displayed for a cool, fake fate.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Samedhi, August 8th, 2020 A.D. @ 8:88 AM PST

{ Jammed this out while listenin’ to Marvel Comics #GuardiansOfTheGalaxy soundtrack link @ https://youtu.be/pS33w9vnJHI }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#WhatIsTheRecord #BareNakedLadies #AlwaysInVogue #HootieAndTheBlowfish @JimCroce @Madonna #Hackensack

FAR AWAY SIDE DISH OF THE VOID

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Friday, August 7, 2020

************** #VOGUE ***************

Love ya ‘til I die little queenie, you choose from the gallery of adolescence in the cosmic stew

Found on road, dead as a door nail, unable to resurrect the corpse, who’s no savior of the few

Singin’ birds, croakin’ toads, like my daddy did, not as sweet tears flow from clowns and fools

Songs’ words in and out of rhythm, rhyme, sonnets, epic sagas, I love me when my lip drools.

Dreamt of the Narrow Way and passed by the Matter and Energy into the cities of the angels

The words used to open the doors were like magic, I’m pleased and I’m thankful for the real

Making something nice and beautiful out of the ash and leftover crust of a burned, dark star

American Way or the Other Way or no Way at all, from Tibet to Tallahassee and back, so far.

Wishing and hoping for the Faith and Charity from that Hope will not uncover the far Ends

Pleasant or joyful, only One Way my genome wants to be, martyr toward all the evil friends

From the origin of the production of the zygote unto the remaining, disturbing memory too

Life’s a living thing, animated or anchored, grounded, flyin’ in clouds, try on a dream shoe.

Bridges built by humanity up to the top of the world’s center of being, angels fear to go there

What is old, Old York where the things themselves moved about the Bronx and Brooklyn fair

Songs sung, poems read, hair pulled out by the roots, all the passion of a Jersey Devil quack

Deprived and inhumane, we enter Doom, roller derby queens found a dark bar in Hackensack.

Words coming out of my mouth, produced from the jumbled thoughts of those who died then

After they thought about thoughts and jumbled them into a coherent philosophy of my zaZen

On the rats and the civilized apes who came long before my arrival in the mother’s void room

A gift of climactic passion dangled as a reward for inseminating the holiest emptiness’ tomb.

Slow down your roll mighty One from nowhere I know, not from this Earth, a soul of the gods

Roaming without a final destination in an immortal comet’s tail of smoking cinders, Hot-rods

Forms of the matter come and go,regardless of the ethics or morality of the Wills in all Things

To be animated or cease moving, stepping stones, look through a telescope at Saturn’s rings.

All of the remains to remember when the Past was the Present and the Future that never was

Anywhere you walk in my footsteps, you will get to where I got to, Ends like the origin, rock

Nothing is more cold than being all alone in a huge universe without anyone but One’s face

Everywhere I go to breathe the gas, it’s always there but I heard there’s emptiness in Space.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Friday, August 7th, 2020 A.D. @ 7:11 AM PST

{ Drafted while listenin’ to @BareNakedLadies & #IfIHadAMillionDollars &  #OneLessSetOfFootstepsOnYourFloorInTheMorning Jim Croce & #GreatestHits on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/Y-55nhfkn4Q }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#NobodyGetsOutOfHereAlive #NOBODY ...you neither my sons, my daughters I never had, etc, etc, etc...

NEVER MET A WOMAN, VAMANOS...

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, August 6, 2020

************** #SkipARope **************

On a scale where your mother and father put all hands on deck, tattoo grim young-bloods’ skin

For the sake of the middle class on shaky ground moving underfoot, high immortality’s sin

You have got to be pulling my leg with this blame game of fake responsibility’s fake news

Who you are and who you know is who you blow and who blows you, it’s a tit for tattoos.

Give me liberty or give me death, that has already been arranged against the Will of Man

Will of either the Greek or Roman or presocratic punctures in the argument for a Woman

Only with both the Man and the Woman will the species thrive and survive in a tiny bubble

In order to adapt to the wingless angel flight, the seven continents drying, God’s wobble.

Frequent entry into the outerspace between my ears causes happiness to warm my soul

Drinking a toast to you and me because it’s some kind of wonderful, to be in a Time hole

On a scale where your mother and father put all hands deck, raised the youngbloods up

From the hospital near the ghetto’s neighborhood, some abbreviate that to a trophy cup.

Overall from the first to the final stage, my best will be lucky enough, but why, holy moral sin

Hit the flag on the last bounce of sacred bluegrass green, lights are always on my eyes to bet

Balls to hit and to roll, to catch and throw in a hole, over a goal’s post or in a goalie’s webnet

You’ll tread the identical path on the way to your majestic finale, lips agape, eyes wide open.

All hands on deck for all but the CO, she’s already there waiting, don’t pass go or collect $200

You’re going to jail sooner or later, even though I think that wouldn’t be cool, with or without

All free will, your free soul, moves to hide temporarily or permanently, a conscious awareness

It peeks through stone & iron curtains, slit Mona Lisa’s neck with my sword for Roman Nazis.

Words move quickly between the mind and the understanding of the rational thinker, the Id

Not the super Ego or the Ego since they are both immersed and invested in the life of the kid

Little boys and girls grow, learn to comprehend the nature of Truth and Lies, trumping aces

Straight and narrow road, once momentum kicks in is an easy Way to Live in faces of races.

Burn words, burn bones, flash flood or freeze the entire planet’s content, it’s above and below

My spell’s one of the sixteen sung about in the song about a chuck wagon rollin’ down a road

Fifteen attempts to flesh out the bubble and each time almost there, tripped and fell too low

So far below that there is nothing above nor below The Void, pray to God I’m no secret code.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Jeudi, August 6th, 2020 Anno Domini @ 3:11 PM PST

{ Created in a minute while listenin’ to #ONDA & hits by Los Lonely Boys ad infinitum on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/iHwu9g3Um5Y }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#ClosetGate #Southpark #IAmGuffawing #BlackHolesCauseWhiteDwarfs #TheDevilIsDOPE

 $$$$$$$

ROLLIN’ DIE IN A BLACK HOLE’S ID

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, August 5, 2020

------- #ThatsTricky -------

Thought a lot about It, gone fishin’ for a figure of speech, calculus of a mob’s war boondoggle

Love and the loss of it once found, is all there is that’s worth a hoot, the End of no Mean bull

Cows just stand up and wait for a final judgement, be eaten or chased for stuffed trophy play

It is indeed, all there is, spaceships or not, the caves were the safe place from the beasts’ prey.

Rollin’ sevens and elevens all night long in the casino, the den of my investment’s mad hatter

Workin’ at the improbable and expecting this impossible dream, a blue diamond and a worm

On a digital screen, personal wealth over six zeroes hides nothing about life’s eclectic Matter

Performed to obfuscate reality and not allow the Truth to be told or even seen in occult Form.

Innocence at the beginning of the play, total ignorance of the nature of Big Bang’s evolution

Of men and mice and their genetic codes of DNA which survive holocausts and trepidation

In and out of the joints that kill cattle, potatoes and tree paper to cover up their emasculation

What you don’t know WILL hurt you too, knowledge’s power is sacrosanct and Original Sin.

Worship of the Unknown, Occult or Steel-headed Fathers, Sons & Holy Ghosts, is forbidden

The die has been cast into the iron pot that cannot melt in rock lava, rollin’ blue diamond’s in

Sounds cannot be heard without the ears to hear the beast’s beats but vibrations feel the Way

Narrow and without distance or a map, the infinite is unreachable by any atom, night or day.

Here and now before the Last Rights you either get or forget about their Lost Words to Bless

Poor humanity full of fear of Nothing but the Space of the Unknown, astronauts found Bliss

Where nothing was everywhere and nothing on Earth mattered one bit, not even a smidgen

Because This is It, This is All there Is, you, me, the living dead, the cosmic porridge we’re in.

Rolled the dice and played my cards to win every time, never, ever played to lose to the brave

Rules were given, followed or broken and the chips fell where they were directed by the grave

Once upon any Time can be no more, it’s a matter of spinnin’ and wobblin’ in Space, in a Void

Form’s appearance of Matter to the sensation of Mankind, the incarnate way, we are #Droid.

Appreciate the air I breathe, it never belonged to me in the first or second place, gifted revival

From the unknown vestibule where our mother’s womb and father’s tomb kept track of Time

History recollected to remember the heroic gestures of the mighty mortals who failed survival

Certain death and becoming, buried or crushed, eaten bones, shat on grass, a drop on a dime.

Mouth & eyes agape, buried, covered up to attempt a coup d'é·tat of Anglo-Saxon melodrama

An origin of the finale of the ignorant, future shock left to us by our mighty, dead god-mama

Earth, the dirt cinders of the thing itself, the unmoved mover in the flesh, Thor with thunder

Enlightens the disgusting dregs of society, aftereffect of Full Power unleashed, It Is All Over!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Wednesday, August 5th, 2020 A.D. @ 7:11 AM PST

{ Drafted as I lay dying, listening to the #Dramatics #TheDevilIsDope & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/8-oHwBkZAvs}

 FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#WhatDoYouThinkBoutThat? #PowerShifts

SIX FEET FROM MOTHER’S BLOW

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, August 4, 2020

--------- #GoodTimes #BadTimes ---------

I kiss my mom these days by blowing her a windless kiss from six feet away, dying viral fools

We never see one another’s face any more, we’ve got iPhone photos and celluloid Kodak flicks

Everything in due time, everything is everything and nothing is nothing, the Dalai Lama rules

Bringing it all to the table with the cartoons I love to watch, 24/7 the The Simpsons’ shticks.

An Event Horizon from out of nowhere and without any warning from the AM radio like glue

Stuck on me as I was gettin’ down on a beautiful day, out by the swimming pool of clear blue

Nothing there to bother us except bad guys who followed my daughter home, bad guy’s ways

I had to go from peace to war in a moment without a thought, warrior mode on purple haze.

I don’t fight, I deny the outcome has anything to do with any of my actions, yes they’re dead

But there was something wrong with their minds, they wanted to kill me, my fearless dread

Philosophy of waiting for the moves and responding in effect with the check mate in nines

Finished before the opponent recovers from the descent into the abyss, angels’ stop signs.

In no hurry to stroke the accelerator because at that point, there’s no more fair competition

It makes me feel such sympathy for the relentless loser who couldn’t believe it would happen

I see what you see but you say you don’t see it, I don’t care though, I know you are a genius

Top of your education’s class of superior students, who studied to excel, to be superior dust.

Which in the end is still all you and I are, regardless of the function of the PhD or HS diploma

In the wind, at the end, all alone, no wife, husband, no kin at at all, One, in a morbid pleroma

Think about the living stars, the dead stars, the unborn stars, then think that you exist here

In the middle of nowhere, outside of 93 million miles to the nearest origin, a climax, a beer.

Nothing to get all riled up about until it’s time to use your skills of self defense from the mob

When they come out of nowhere from the dregs of somebody’s society, can’[t get a living job

They come in busloads dressed with their baby grouchy-Marxist garb, ready for a stone age

Rock music and the classical Jazz, Country and Soul pieces of Culture, Americana in deluge.

Stay with me one more moment, descend into the ascending vortex, into the holy, full of zeal

Coming up or down, just because there’s no other way to go, gravitational collapse of the field

Interrupting the coitus long enough to cause the species to go extinct by a devilish good deed

In error, Truth became the Lie and that was the Key to the End, the Finale, it was a bad seed!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Lundi, August 3rd, 2020 A.D. @ 1:11 PM PST

{ #GodInHeaven ? Ripped this from my leased gullet while listenin’ to the mighty Carlos Santana #LIVEconcert on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/Afaf6YWWqD4 }

 

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#MAGICmovesLakes #GameIsNeverOver #NoTimeOutInSpace

SHE’S A WIFE, NEXT CONTESTANT!

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Monday, August 3, 2020

------------------ #GameNeverOver ------------------

Beauty is not only skin deep, it goes all the way down into bones and into a rapper’s mind

Effervescent as a bottle of seltzer and blowin’ gas back up through your ski nose & hot lips

Quintessential mimicking of the way of the human being, the homo sapiens of a 3rd kind

Monkeys without much hair except to cover their tiny heads full of outer space and rips.

Looking like what you don’t want to see near the end of the run, when it’s almost all 1’s & 2’s

Miracles don’t happen at all, every single thing has a cause and is an effect of some fool’s hits

Chances are you’re as ignorant as Adam and Eve but you think you know it all, so what it is?

Really a guess, wild or educated making stabs at the guess, the assumption based on Blues.

In macroscopic form a microscopic virus takes over the entire genome and kills it’s breath

What is left other than the followers who are stunned by the reminder that they too will die

Almost forgotten until the stink began, smelling the relaxed nature of the inner bowels high

Burial for respect and avoidance of the presence of the stench, the corpse’s forgotten death.

Beauty was only skin deep after all, the beast emerges as the days tic by, a high heaven sniff

Reminds the recollection that every perception from birth to death is a clue to being a stiff

Souls animate the bones and brain’s mind, responsible for it all, good, evil and very fugly

Conceptual analysis of the premises of propositions will yield the fallacious ends, the ugly.

Blind faith emerges to avoid the fear & loathing of knowledge that Earth’s all there is forever

In the beginning of Gods, legendary but nowhere in existence, above or below south Queens

I got my hotrod, you got your purse and your hot legs, we’re good to go, alternative’s obscene

Our gangs all there waiting, justice making a move without us, we are One, a phuqn farmer.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Monday, August 3rd, 2020 A.D. @ 6:06 PM PST

{ Belched out of the gullet while listenin’ to #BumpCity @TowerOfPower & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/qNWYHSbaFBs }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#FindOutTheTruth then #BackOffFast @CHICAGOtheBand #CHICAGO DOES ROCK! #CoVidTwentyThree #JordanRules #Bawlers

XENOPHOBIC SNOWFLAKES OF RA

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Sunday, August 2, 2020

------------- @snoop @dre et al -------------

Just several kilometers from the center of the North Pole, I searched & found what I needed

Not what I wanted, it was not my personal desire, yet it was all too human of a wanton dread

That the will I have and the intent strength of the focus of the thought power, never fails gods

You my friend, ain’t a god, neither is anyone else, none of y’all are, no more Siberian hotrods.

A messenger dead in your head but ringing the meaning of the words of subjects and objects

In the scrum of the huddle it all comes down to this, what the plan is after you find the Truth

As it’s always been, the ignorant won’t have any inkling that something’s amiss, star specks

Flat on the ground against star cinders of what used to be back in the day before Babe Ruth.

Baseball players can’t spit on the ground anymore, can’t chew snuff or tobacco in a dugout

But how can you expect to be calm during all of the tense commotion on the diamond field

A function of the equation may be quadratic in form and as a mass of atoms, shaped as an eye

Looking inside & outside as if it’s different when it is indeed, One and the same, yet we pray.

Here’s the boundaries and the facts of life, every teenager should have been taught, we failed

Not due to intent to ruin the civilization but just to show that it’s all about #Me2 & not y’all

If I don’t get things in my reach I will not be happy, sadness is a form of mockery at all souls

My spirit, soul, ghost doesn’t have respect for any of them, they don’t exist in my black hole.

So, I play the notes of what angels in the sky sound like when you’re called home to a tease

A hope while I spread the Faith and the Charity everywhere I go, to those who sip green teas

I don’t care who cares and who doesn’t because it’s none of my business, it’s all humanity’s

It’s not only a long way home but also it’s straight and narrow within an ultraviolet infinity.

Thrown the whole shebang up against the wall and nothing stuck, it all fell down to the floor

I am way under the radar in front of the god's eye and the dream that gives up a losing score

No matter, no expectations other than you’ll be alive tomorrow but someday you won’t, caput

It ain’t my fault, you work ‘til you die, that’s it, says an innocent crow, #KissMyBlackAssFoot!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Sunday, August 2nd, 2020 A.D. Jammed this while listenin’ to Snoop Dogg #DontJudge #ItsArtForArtsSake #DontBeThatWayHomies here’s a link from 2009 @ https://youtu.be/QZXc39hT8t4 }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#MirandaRights & #RedPhilosopherStone @CarlosSANTANA @CHICAGOTheBand @RunawayJune

WISDOM’S GARNET STONER *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, August 2, 2020

************* #ExhibitNone **************

It’s all about the red shift, the blue shift and the blown atoms of gravitational collapse on us

We all above the ground care about staying alive, surviving in the midst of turmoil’s matrix

Upon the groundwork of the base, the foundation for the fantastic and God’s magic laser bus

With or without you, I’m goin’ where I need to go to get the candy store to get a C6H12O2 fix.

Spices of salt and pepper can’t make the taste of the Void sweeter or more sour than gruel

You and I know the thing, that thing that you can’t say or write down with words, it’s cruel

To be or not to be when you still are thinking about the facts before your very senses of Id

As if the Ego or Super Ego have any standing at all, mythological excuses for being the kid.

One who comes from nothing but an egg and a small flagellating germ of God, Life itself, me

Well now we have it, pretending not to be a pretender as if that causes Truth to mutate, Free

No liberty when you gotta go when you gotta go, that’s not freedom, It’s illusory Time blows

Given to the things themselves because of the sweet luck given to random Karens & Romeos.

Tick tock on the clock makes the mouse run into the DNA of the human genome, Mickey slips

It’s a mouse because it creeps into the mind from the stomach’s metabolizing freaky two lips

Comatose upon arrival yet ready for the bones to roll the rocks against the wall for the Craps

I don’t know where my mother and father went but they’re gone, I’m still here for back slaps.

Last words of the final statement from the Word unsaid, unstated, unwrote, unthought blows

Printed, written, scratched on rocks & dirt, burned out aster ash, live and die, below as above

News of the old and baseless, frumpy mess of the social matrix left it over from odd maestros

Coming inside of the holy sepulcher, tabernacle of absolute zero, sacred, absolute, One love.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Sunday, August 2nd, 1956 A.D. my 1st brother’s birthday, @AllenRobertStephan R.I.P. baby! Drafted while listenin’ to Carlos Santana #LIVEatMONTREUX my brother from another #Mamacita #Europa & #SambaPaTi on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/JAsfAuvFvh8 *header is my #PhilosopherStone }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#PrudentProductionParaphanalia #Phantasmagorical @JimiHendrix @SnoopDog @Dr_Dre

XENOPHOBIC SNOWFLAKES OF RA

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, August 2, 2020

******* #SandCastleMagical ******

Just several kilometers from the center of the North Pole, I searched & found what I needed

Not what I wanted, it was not my personal desire, yet it was all too human of a wanton dread

That the will I have and the intent strength of the focus of the thought power, never fails gods

You my friend, ain’t a god, neither is anyone else, none of y’all are, no more Siberian hotrods.

A messenger dead in your head but ringing the meaning of the words of subjects and objects

In the scrum of the huddle it all comes down to this, what the plan is after you find the Truth

As it’s always been, the ignorant won’t have any inkling that something’s amiss, star specks

Flat on the ground against star cinders of what used to be back in the day before Babe Ruth.

Baseball players can’t spit on the ground anymore, can’t chew snuff or tobacco in a dugout

But how can you expect to be calm during all of the tense commotion on the diamond field

A function of the equation may be quadratic in form and as a mass of atoms, shaped as an eye

Looking inside & outside as if it’s different when it is indeed, One and the same, yet we pray.

Here’s the boundaries and the facts of life, every teenager should have been taught, we failed

Not due to intent to ruin the civilization but just to show that it’s all about #Me2 & not y’all

If I don’t get things in my reach I will not be happy, sadness is a form of mockery at all souls

My spirit, soul, ghost doesn’t have respect for any of them, they don’t exist in my black hole.

So, I play the notes of what angels in the sky sound like when you’re called home to a tease

A hope while I spread the Faith and the Charity everywhere I go, to those who sip green teas

I don’t care who cares and who doesn’t because it’s none of my business, it’s all humanity’s

It’s not only a long way home but also it’s straight and narrow within an ultraviolet infinity.

Thrown the whole shebang up against the wall and nothing stuck, it all fell down to the floor

I am way under the radar in front of the god's eye and the dream that gives up a losing score

No matter, no expectations other than you’ll be alive tomorrow but someday you won’t, caput

It ain’t my fault, you work ‘til you die, that’s it, says an innocent crow, #KissMyBlackAssFoot!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Sunday, August 2nd, 2020 A.D. Jammed this while listenin’ to @JimiHendrix concert & Snoop Dogg #DontJudge #ItsArtForArtsSake #DontBeThatWayHomies here’s a link from 2009 @ https://youtu.be/QZXc39hT8t4}

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?