HAPPY BIRTHDAY WOULD HAVE BEEN HAPPIER MY BROTHER, IF YOU WERE HERE . . . RIP ALLEN ROBERT STEPHAN 1956 AUGUST 2ND-INFINITY #SkynyrdInnards

FIFTEEN WILL GET YOU TWENTY, CAPECE?

In the ghetto where the ghosts never leave the streets, crosswalks be damned if I do or don’t
I’ve crawled and ran slow & fast as I could up and down streets & boulevards, avenues won’t
Hide your dark shadow & bones from the bogey man, might be more than one, truth’s her fear
Ponzi schemin’ on the last one standing with a potent tool in one hand & dead air in the other.

Modesty and humility are all I have gleaned from the gift of awareness, all that I am, The Sum
Of this and that, inner and outer relevance to a centerfold stapled between pages of reportage
Advertising the good, the bad & the ugly to reverse the inherited effects we have turned a page
Burnt fingertips’ fingerprints off of the molten winged one, meta morphed into a butterfly, son.

I stop and think about things I can’t do anything about, wasted time I’ll ne’er get a do over
Just because it’s the way it’s supposed to be & it can’t be another guy’s backyard, wife kicked
Freedom was always a distant horizon, always aims at the bull’s eye & misses it by that much
A smidgen is all it missed by but I was 50 yards away from a touchdown to such and such.

Home is where your & my heart is, it’s deeper than your muscle pumpin’ blood up to spit
Silence is more still than you ever thought was possible, no matter how you want to change
Once the atoms settle down & stop being animated, the spirit is disseminated to recycle it
Who you were before conceived by inseminated egg? Well now you’re farout on the range.

I ain’t writin’ no letters, it hurts too much to be gone so long, I feared the hate of the haters
Old boys and girls who turned into the old men & old women who still dodged the drafters
Moved to a place in space that don’t put no fight in your face, y’all getting’ my drift, it’s scat
Not only that but also this here is all there is, Soul Earth, Nothing exists everywhere I’m at.

I thank my father, my brother, my brothers & sisters from other mothers & of course, mama
Whose labor I consigned to her so I could enter the portal of this twilight zone’s grand papa
Somewhere way over any rainbow regardless of the lunar orbital trajectory about a dead star
What you don’t know won’t hurt you unless you find out, they will be eight to the music bar.

I don’t care either way, it’s either an illusion of the mind or a fixation on being fit to survive it
Death is a concept until you die, then it’s reality, really extinction of the third & fourth kinds
Memories can’t be recalled, no brain or mind survives the organic failure of the DNA genome
Nobody’s fault, an unrealistic adolescence produced, rather than a bum, a man deaf & dumb.

Now the fear of being dead overwhelms you 'til you fall backward on your sword or powder dry
Bullets useless without the firepower, the flint-spark to ignite the wildfire that is uncontainable
Battles for retaliation against agitation & prevention of revolution of the yang & the yin of High
Buddies of the buds, swallowed, breathed, in & out, gods below Zeus & Ra & old Ala, Moveable.

An anomaly philosophy professor from the 80’s trained at Cornell, served ham sandwich on rye
Conclusion deduced that smug appears to be a necessary condition of blinded faith in a dad guy
Knock on the guys who wind up bein’ dads is they are not programmed to program selfless kids
Program for selfishness to chain-react the origin of extinction, cro-mag species, good riddance.

Whistle louder than a train rollin’ down the railroad tracks inside a tunnel under a mountaintop
Rocky stones leftover nothing burgers giving a notion that the Big Bang occurred, no proof pop
I beg your pardon, but I’m trained by the best in Western philosophy and idiot savant brothers
Sisters of the cloth, sheep of the holy See who obey the rules of the hood, yo’ mama mothers.

Secrets told as if Truth exposed to the ignorant, myopic idiots would turn them around about
Virtually your mother, some dead woman your father would have mated with, is a ghost scout
To see if you can handle a psychic message from the Id within, no fear to be at One with Zero
Only you know what I know, conclusive if & only if it ends in a leap of faith, my dad, my hero.

Earth’s dirt, spinning & wobbling causing wind all warmed by the sun’s dark star blowin’ up
Calm down & allow the gas to emit from the exhaust or else you will implode in a Dixie cup
Failure to shout this communication but I’ll still aim for the target I can’t call on my iPhone
You all & all of your family should get ready to die, make a will, keep it safe, numskull done.

Robbery on the highway to Hades just to make ends meet, it’s just a side job malfunction
In or out of daydreams of Dave and Deb, the twins who came to still gestation’s incubation
This ain’t your daddy’s mindfulness, in retreat with the holy name of the Tao, father Sonny
Induction deduced worldwide, pretty & certain death to succeed, no Santa or Easter bunny.

They advised me that the fix was in before I was born or even thought of at all, I’m a tool
To strongarm, hammer or screw the putsch, gotta be done, customized tube, po’ boy fool
Mere message from a flounder upon the sea, always looking up, can’t see, look out below
Imagine Earth ignites into a daystar, ancient bones disintegrate, already gone down, flow.

by
r j j stephan I
c. Mercredi, August 2nd 2023 Anno Domini @ 911 AMPST
{ Drafted by my janitor, or my plumber, I can’t recollect but while jammin’ to
3 HOURS & some change to @GovtMule LIVE LINK @ https://youtu.be/9ganwvg6wR4 }

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