THIRD DIMENSION BETWEEN FIRST & SECOND CHECKMATES *
Not being a dot or a period's point, so to speak, I don't know what that's like, I can't know It
A being a priori and a posteriori for the sake of the whole shebang, so immune to Nothing too
No need or want to be animated yet the full thrust of being replicated, by God and too human
A song sung by nobody in sight, some sirens in the distance crying about a no good dead man.
Mortified to be a stench factory of accumulated matter, condensed and transformed into a Me
I, myself know the way it's all going to go down from now until doomsday, that moment's glee
When you find out that your last breath is all you get for free, that's it, caput, you'll be in rooms
From St. Louis to Tipperary and back to the holy host we all come from, our po' mothers' wombs.
Now, let me see if I've got this straight, meaning that If I do have it right, y'all don't really matter
Not even a small bit of love is left over when you cease to be an animated man or woman hipster
In expletive of philosophy, you glean universal rules for particular units of Fire in outerspace Time
After all's said and all is done, the finish line's crossed and the race is over, God knows DNA slime.
And on to the next race of DNA evolution in Space-Time warped in hydrogen and oxygen gasoline
Earth the soul and heart of all we will ever know, except the astronauts and cosmonauts we fling
Out of our orbit into the bliss of the abyss, the Void between our sanity and our origin's ignorance
It's bliss to Be without responsibility for the activity of the gas inside the outside of creased pants.
Altar boy to musician-scholar to old man watchin' days turn to night as the world spins, in control
Of everything under the burning, mortal sun, star of our mothers, fathers & children, sibling foal
All in One human race to be alive and well, healthy and wealthy, not poor or sick, yet a holy ghost
Came without intention to fix or heal wounded egos but to have faith in blinded eyes of The Host.
My move and it's a checkmate back to you, third dimension, the second one too, anyway it's over
Broad strokes of a pen for an authorization of Force to change the Tide of natural selection myth
That this is some form of random event, a life of conscious experience, that's life's ups and downs
Buzzing consciousness between my ears moves my heart's soul to free 'em, old gold, sad clowns.
by
r j j stephan, i * #checkmated
c. Saturday, January 30th, 2021 A.D. @ 3:33 AMPST
{ AM jammin' to some #LooseGrooves of @WARtheBand link @ https://youtu.be/aAXwaPrajiE }
FINIS
W.W.A.R.D.?
Not being a dot or a period's point, so to speak, I don't know what that's like, I can't know It
A being a priori and a posteriori for the sake of the whole shebang, so immune to Nothing too
No need or want to be animated yet the full thrust of being replicated, by God and too human
A song sung by nobody in sight, some sirens in the distance crying about a no good dead man.
Mortified to be a stench factory of accumulated matter, condensed and transformed into a Me
I, myself know the way it's all going to go down from now until doomsday, that moment's glee
When you find out that your last breath is all you get for free, that's it, caput, you'll be in rooms
From St. Louis to Tipperary and back to the holy host we all come from, our po' mothers' wombs.
Now, let me see if I've got this straight, meaning that If I do have it right, y'all don't really matter
Not even a small bit of love is left over when you cease to be an animated man or woman hipster
In expletive of philosophy, you glean universal rules for particular units of Fire in outerspace Time
After all's said and all is done, the finish line's crossed and the race is over, God knows DNA slime.
And on to the next race of DNA evolution in Space-Time warped in hydrogen and oxygen gasoline
Earth the soul and heart of all we will ever know, except the astronauts and cosmonauts we fling
Out of our orbit into the bliss of the abyss, the Void between our sanity and our origin's ignorance
It's bliss to Be without responsibility for the activity of the gas inside the outside of creased pants.
Altar boy to musician-scholar to old man watchin' days turn to night as the world spins, in control
Of everything under the burning, mortal sun, star of our mothers, fathers & children, sibling foal
All in One human race to be alive and well, healthy and wealthy, not poor or sick, yet a holy ghost
Came without intention to fix or heal wounded egos but to have faith in blinded eyes of The Host.
My move and it's a checkmate back to you, third dimension, the second one too, anyway it's over
Broad strokes of a pen for an authorization of Force to change the Tide of natural selection myth
That this is some form of random event, a life of conscious experience, that's life's ups and downs
Buzzing consciousness between my ears moves my heart's soul to free 'em, old gold, sad clowns.
by
r j j stephan, i * #checkmated
c. Saturday, January 30th, 2021 A.D. @ 3:33 AMPST
{ AM jammin' to some #LooseGrooves of @WARtheBand link @ https://youtu.be/aAXwaPrajiE }
FINIS
W.W.A.R.D.?
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