#Movement & #Overture #RhapsodyInYourFace @MorganWallen @BrothersOsborne @TheRascals

LINE UP THE WHISKEY SOURS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Saturday, August 29, 2020

---------- #BehindTheBehind ----------

Skipped the parts that I couldn’t understand, taking tests about the content of my character

Vacant of matter and energy which is lost if it’s ever found within the thing itself, I hurt her

Hometowns are accidental and depend solely on whether or not a Soul is ready to be alive

On the subject of the action verbs that move the objects and predicates, it’s all illusory jive.

I know one thing only, that is a tautological argument, I know Nothing, Everything is Void

In the condo, on the beach, on a date or deep in trouble with the order of the laws of psychos

Preening their feathers dead underground, six or three feet under, depending on Pink Floyd

Breath is taken out of your face and lungs, like it or not, Time and Space’s clock of cuckoos.

Seven up and Seagram's 7 flow the conscious animal into the river current of pure happiness

Way before the last call for alcohol, three sheets to the wind and passed out in the high weeds

Everybody lost track of my boots, so did I, my bare feet missed my @TonyLlama hot cowboys

Stumbled in and out of the saloon always gettin’ a shot and a pitcher of Ale, need some toys.

Unionized for the imperfect pouring of whiskey into empty glasses, need to think hard about

Facts and pretensions to help make it through the daily grind of moving in and out of doubt

Mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, cousins, administrators, employers, y’all wanna be astute

I can’t create Reality, survival of foreign bodies is God’s double vision, so urgent to be caput!

She said I was out of line and there wasn’t a line at all, straight or curved, fast or slow, so true

Perfect to be a function of all there is, First Cause and the Big Bang fornicated the Big Bangs

Resolved by friction and spontaneous combustion, absence of form’s shapes’ crimson screws

Turning into the ultraviolet violins and the infrared trombones, holy rhapsody of the blues.

Fallen from trees, plateau cliffs and just tripped over my own size 10 clod hoppers, my Words

It sounds a certain way, leaves an impression of what can be repeated, tweeted like Freebirds

In or out of a pickle’s costume, dancing like everybody loves your moves, show off the delight

No chance to fail, success is the narrow Way I’ll always be right side, being wrong, let us fight.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Samadhi, August 29th, 2020 Anno Domini @ 4:11 PM PST

{ Took it down a notch, while listenin’ to the Brothers Osborne to #SlowYourRoll link @ https://youtu.be/0eERCG_pBUs )

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

Ready to Roll? One, Two, Three Margaritas, #HeySenorita #WellBeGone #DriveMeHome #TakeTheLongWayAround

SHOTS, GAMETES & CUTS OF A JIB *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Friday, August 28, 2020

 - - - - - #WhiteCapsAreBreaking - - - - -

Wrung-out, false images post mortem, coming in sacred flashbacks from light hidden within

Little fagots are millionaires and the progeny of the liberators get welfare screwed magic men

What in Sam Hill at the planet’s core are we all doing here, waiting to live or die without me

That ain’t ever worked before and it’s not gonna work tomorrow or today, Hick Life’s for free.

The redundant reincarnation of the thing itself that is the First Mover of the Substance’s form

That is the nature of the Beast, a universal principle in particular, atomic quark of the system

Singularity punched up on the mighty Marconi, tuned into the Frequency modulation of Ala

Adam, Muhammad or Zoroaster or Genghis Khan please the powers that be, One that Is, Ga.

On being Substance, Form, the shape of molecular configuration during a Big Bang whimper

Moving keeps it real, reality of cosmic and infrared wavelengths and frequencies of the Fisher

Up and down, in and out, back and forth, repeat ad infinitum, white noise all in man, in kind

Specific to a reason why life breathes and thrives in the petri dish of microbes we never find.

Accident, irreversibly random without an ethical direction, immorality’s essence of mortality

In color or in black and white, the vision of the form outside and inside of the mind is of One

With the Word, the language of subjects, predicates and objects, the sixth sense drops it out

ESP, extra is not so much, it’s the essence of One man, woman & trillions of kids, divine fun.

Skunk buddies and the abhorrent smelling, burning leaves of the weeds of Mary, God’s Time

We all get the chance and some of us wave those rights to the lowly being the highest rhyme

Pink or blue blankets to welcome the infant girls and boys who’ve got a chance in hell to be

Earthbound, gravitated to the burned out star rock, Mother Earth, Walking God, now I see!

by

r j j Stephan Richard Joseph Stephan, I * #HomemadeSoulChowder #NameBabiesAfterMe

c. Vendredi, August 28th, 2020 A.D. @ 4:11 PM PST

{ Scribe down to Blanco_brown #TheGitUp link @ https://youtu.be/Q7U6AoZ27yE }

FINIS

HAIR OF THE DOG

W.W.A.R.D.?

#NothingAintAllThereIs #Wait #What? #BlackLabel #BlackPowDer #69 #SixtyNines #ThankYouMamaRIP

THANKS MAMA, $$ FOR NOTHIN’ *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, August 27, 2020

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

All Time and Space in a thimble when you needed to mend the holes in my jeans’ knee rips

Just so that the scratch pops and you bled out of the holy 50’s & 60’s economy, rewards, RIP

For some ungodly reason, unknown to mankind, a matter of forming blind faith to control It

The Soul of the creature species which roll and rock with the evolutionary meandering of Ra.

Sun, moon, Earth, planets, stars, solar systems, galaxies and the whole shebang’s universal It

A thing itself, so very far away from all of us, none of us can see what it is, we know it’s there

Present now and in the Past when we weren’t here all alone, in the future when we will not be

Just an extinct thought of being alive on Earth, purpose just because you got lucky, so did He.

Now, then what is the explanation for continuance of the Absolute criterion for going infinite

Finite balance you see with your eyes, in and out of Time lines before you, I show you’re right

On to the Off position, lights out of your conscious awareness, Ego search for the miraculous

Law of the Substance of an unmistakable ethereal Nothingness, it’s all you got, that and MTV.

What was working? What was labor? What is your spent Time from birth to death? It’s me

What I am is what you are, species of seven continents that ne’er used to be here, #H2O free

In our church, under the dome of the place that keeps out the Space, the vacuum of our scum

We need every bit of it, here inside of the bubble, Nothing can escape or we’re doomed dumb.

Peace of this piece will move some and get a double take from others who can’t grasp reality

I didn’t make this up a minute ago, this has been evolving for thousands of moons’ epic bang

Thrust out of the cosmic spray which all of This was and still is, in atomic mutation’s dirt ball

In the end, it will be the way it always was, all money is for nothing baby, just Nothing at all!

by

r j j Stephan Richard Joseph Stephan, I * #AllGaVeSome #SomeGaveItAll #OORAH

c. Jeudi, August 27th, 2020 A.D. @ 9:11 AM PST

{ Scribe down to Dire Straits #MoneyForNothing link @ https://youtu.be/wTP2RUD_cL0 }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#YouCanStickItWhereTheSunDontShine #KeasterForEaster ..Some little things my elders used to say when they rocked the 20th century!

ABOVE, BELOW HADES’ UNIFORM *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, August 26, 2020

------ #Chew #Chaw & #BlackJack -------

So, beginning with the end of the world as we knew it, I hope anyone would know the facts

Indeed, you, me, us and them, all of the population on seven continents, we’re already gone

Nederland right here before your very eyes, where nothing goes unheard or unseen, shucks

It is a one of a kind experience, these days of nights between them, catch fish, shootin’ ducks.

In my Hummer or on my Harley, rollin’ where my feet can’t take me way back to the beef

Justice is a ham sandwich to the helpless and homeless, vagabond troops of societal grief

Pending doom above every head which has not found a home, no privacy, no bed or B & B

On the other foot, there are no hands on deck when it’s time for battle stations, a mortal sin.

Conquering the well groomed, uncontrollable rage within due to the extinction of a live cell

Early development of the cerebral cortex by the enculturation of the host anima is essential

Serious about the intelligent utilization of this short Time we have in Space, even Sing Sing

But there’s a joke involved which is not so serious and that’s the fact that you’re dreaming.

Fill in the blanks, although it is all you can do or just shoot them and make play the fiddle

Shooting off your mouth like a loose cannon on the ship is not the way right up the middle

On that narrow pathway from where you can’t get back to you can only scan it straight ahead

Side to side or up and down are not an option for the mind’s swivel of y’all, a cosmic schizoid.

Yeah, the houses did all turn to pink on the day after the end of the Peace on Earth, on to War

Struggle for survival from snakes and fish to monkeys in the tress, or here next to my tea cup

I’m a bum who can’t and won’t cooperate with the solitary nor the minions of lemming tits up

Spend your current, your flow of blood and invisible, conscious and unconscious rubber soul.

Nothing is unlearned, all we do is accept the social principle, do unto all others for profit sake

Just ‘cause you think you’re pretty and smart means nothing to the powers that be, too #Fake

Amazing spiders build webs around an uncertainty principle, created a web of You, it’s reality

A vane hope to be saved from falling to 3 bottom echelons of the pit of Hades, Do, Re and Mi.

You’ll be strong-armed into submission for the no holds barred match of 2020 AD, it’s alive

All of our senses, sight, hearing, smelling, tasting and feeling the touch, in and out of the life

You decide if you will be a communicator of the Truth and the Justice inherited from the rape

Of mice and human species’ struggle to survive an accidental cosmic freak-show, we are vape.

by

r j j Stephan Richard Joseph Stephan, I *Header’s a B&W photo of #Fatboy in New Mexico!

c. Mercredi, August 26th, 2020 A.D. @ 11:11 AM PST

{ written while listenin’ to The Young Radicals #YouOnlyGotWhatYouGive on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/DL7-CKirWZE }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#EyeAintNoRocketMan #YesIam #SlamDownSevenShots #HeyThereMan - Love, Hair of the Dog #MyPlace #LivingAsGoodAsGOLD #MyPlace #Where?

FILL IT UP & I’LL THROW IT DOWN

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, August 25, 2020

------------- #HairOfTheDogHowling ------------- 

Hicks, spiders & hillbillies enculturated me, my mama always said, y’all come back tomorrow

Big one too, struggle to survive markets on mean streets of main drags, roses in leftover scum

They start shovin’ it down your throat at a few days old, liquid teat milk just isn’t enough, yo

We’ve got to do what we’ve got to do, here, down in hellright Tennessee, where I come from.

Down on K street, near the livery stable or up at a party of frog legs burnin’ in a hell’s bonfire

AC/DC & TheRealBigSmo with a buzz-on lookin’ more or less, a way to pass out of boys’ choir

Singin’ on Sunday AM or PM, it doesn’t matter, alcohol is the key, plum drunk stupor of me

Walkin’ tall or trippin’ over a crack in a sidewalk, either way, a dream is being dreamt see?

On the graveyard shift with the other black crows who blew in from the cornfield, workin’ it

Today, yesterday and tomorrow are all one when you’re in the Outer Space, out of this world

Spinning the yarn, spinning around in circles, makin’ clothes to cover the naked girls bones

White, red. brown, black and blue, every single one of the 208 bone fragments of God alone.

Free to fear Nothing yet accepting that the unknown will be known in short order, Superman

Don’t make me laugh, I have stitches in my side, I’m bustin’ a gut, seriously! I am just a man

That is all, I’m out of here on my last gasp of gas, oxygen depletion freaks me out! OMG nut

You got more hay and dirt in your pickup truck’s bed than I do, I ain’t no cowboy in a GD rut!

My neck is red and sometimes it’s just a stiff one, can’t move it and gotta look straight ahead

Of the men and the mice who left the traps loaded with the stinkin’ cheese, spoiled milk fed

To us all, this is all there is, some pretend there’s more, believe it and teach it, it’s a load of It

You know the bulls and cows but you don’t know why there’s milk, why there’s Gold in dirt.

We used to be the sun of God, the star of the solar system, it turned off, we turned it all down

Saving it all for the Big Bang in the parking lot when the keg runs out of the empty Solo cup

Hair of the dogs brushing on your tongue, inside your dried out, cracked lips, need the frown

Unhappy with the lot of your life, where you’re at, didn’t listen to your papa, y’all PhD-up!

A family affair of babies grown up to be cowboys, truckers and hookers, make my world spin

In an infinite circle of the failure of the statuesque stars between God-Void’s dark honky tonk

Drunken gone #BatShyt for the girl I can’t remember the next day while I groom hair of dogs

Mr Misunderstood never did wake up from that wet dream, my girls kiss lips of skinny frogs.

by

r j j stephan, I

c. Mardi, August 25th, 2020 A.D. @ 0606 hours AM PST

{ drafted #InALotOfTroubleNow while listenin’ to Eric Church #DrinkInMyHand in an infinite loop on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/usGv0gB2zEU }

 

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.??