#ricoSacto

Sunday, May 07, 2023

I MAY SEVEN OR ELEVEN TO HEAVEN #DrippingGripRevolver #TheBeatlesRevolver

SYMBOLIC
ALCOHOLIC
Contents of the cyclic form is every single byte of cosmic dust in the third dimensions
What it means and what it is to be the perfect joker you think you are, #1 & #2, sons
Flawless in private & public just because that’s the nature of the beastly boy within
In a hive, nest or cave-hole in a mountain wall, aloof & caught in a river of high sin.

As sharp as a knife or a thumb tack, easy to punch through or carve & slice a fool
Ran the country without thinking about repercussions of the Many being a tool
Sooner or later, love would always win games without an ending, a sight unseen
Breakin’ bad, harder to ride, hard body like a backhoe, 2 Michelin tires, so mean.

Pawns moved checking my knights’ good reason, check-off on all Sunday sermons.
All 64 spaces in that 2-dimensional square will morph like magic into 3 dimensions
All 3 planes of existence for the rooks, knights, bishops & queens are all warp jumps
All ready for you to pull the ripcord and drag the weight you’ve eaten out the dumps.

Taking wine and transubstantiating it into the blood of a dead man, long gone, bloodless
Only some realize and are satisfied that knowing nothing is a tool for the holy & ruthless
What appears to be a hot-cold, atomic issue of crankin’ Yanker’s nightmare, a 1 & a 2 &
Etcetera if you can repeat that two more times & turn around counter-clockwise in sand.

Hippies and the funky groove path up & down the board, in and out of the heat of light
Witches brew a holy, magic smoke to cause inhalation of bud-flower-weed, goddess’ dope
Knows wisdom like the back of your hand, not his or hers but yours no problem, y’all hope
It’s gonna be alright in the end, unconscious of the life you lived conception to death’s fight.

Now you’re at the place in Space where it all turns into the Singularity of the Black Hole, son
It’s a star, a blown out divine gas of the divinity we’ll ne’er see or hear, just taste, smell & feel
As if it’s meant to be that way & there’s no other way to explain the mysterious anomaly run
Of First Cause to the final effect without a memory, not a clue about nature’s glued, holy seal.

Stopped at the beginning of the end before it began explosion-implosions of a holy, new Void
To be or not to be is always what everything is all about, there’s no other dilemma to solve it
Only you know & I know what it is and why it is, nobody else cares & never will make fun to fit
It’s not their mission to make an act of contrition, nobody is sorry for being a natural android.

by
r j j stephan, i

c. Dimanche 5-7-2023 @711 PMPST
{ Twilight-Zoned from the cornucopia-at-large while jammin’ to @Waylon_Jennings concert link @ https://youtu.be/4eZzY3f1VCk )

F I N I S
W.W.A.R.D.?

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