MOTHER’S CREATING THE ANGELS OF MANKIND, MAMAS OF FUNK
Underneath the ground of being there’s a hundred holes dug into the holy Earth by worms Horned toads and lily pads floating upon the pond, across the pond of water swelling germs
Pretending to be or not to be, it doesn’t matter one way or the other, tell mama your take
It’s more often wrong than right in the subjective objects of random atomic collisions I fake.
Busting tables and balloons there is no more satisfying pile of scat than that, we work for tips
Simple to be less complex than a many-peel onion, gone to the center of the seed’s fake slips
Fight for your life, for peaceful feelings safe & warm, nestled in place without idiotic chaff
In jeopardy of being exposed to the rounds comin’ out the automatic foo fighters, just laugh.
Home base after you’ve taken your best swing at the 95 MPH heater or the 70 MPH knuckler
Pros and cons of the idiots and morons pulling their weight of bones, less than 20 pounds, sir
Men and apes, every living thing of every species here and now, Cro-Magnon to the Man, fool
Sat down to look at my inner self, I couldn’t take the shock standing up, I’d know nothing cool.
Bringing the beginning to the end is not in the power of any 208 bones treading the dirty rocks
Even the gods can’t intervene, no Zeus’ curse or God’s punishment for apples in Gardens of Eve
Drank the wine from the grapes that grew on the vine since the 1st day, drunk on The Block fun
Pricking up your ears, pricking and poking fun at the ones who pretend to be sons of a six gun.
Climbing the tree where the bees made the honeycomb so my presence projected cool smoke
From the block of dead Roaches and Rastas, nothing else could defeat the razor’s back stroke
It’s Occam’s optical trick, a delusion in the mind of the tricked and treated, a Candyland cycle
Around in circles, spinnin’ around as if there’s no tomorrow, fly about upon a lost audiophile.
Perfect from above 8 miles higher than your mind can get, on a mind-altering substance hit
Down the hatch or pull on the full hole of smoke from a square or hookah, man it’s some skit
Part 1 through 3 got me through to the end as soon as I could, hope you understand why I die
No reason of interest to the powers that be, lost me, lost you, lucky we ain’t them, let us Fly!
As above, so it is above the fray, you can keep your wordless thoughts away from my bouquet
Slipped into darkness you knew & you were the friend that had to go first, laughin’ at the moon
Only one up there, we need a dark side to comedy and tragedy but there’s a light side forsoothe
Mean to me, nice to you, you’ll be meeting your Twilight Zone without self-defense, but it’s OK.
Silent sound of one’s attitude is a journey to reincarnating hell on Earth, I fixed Ends in my favor
I had no will to the power yet I wielded omnipotence from a 1st pope, mighty Simon Peter’s core
Meant to be all as it is right now, here in the present, follow the money to the golden calves’ Id
Power to the people’s hustle of rebellion, led rabble of paupers who love sucking teat like a kid.
In no scenario every imagined or ever recorded in annals of historical records’ appear God stiffs
Not a Godzone or live corpse who left the writing on walls, on paper, on line or mouth to mouth
In resuscitation of life in the Dead Sea where pirates’ skulls remain covered in Davy Jones’ sheet
Not picked before the battle for a last breath, Love’s heave in your lungs, forced your heartbeat.
No movie can rerun the moving picture you’ve seen before you fell asleep forever, y’all are so dead
Not grateful to be or not to be, a final end of self-conscious, conceptual analysis of the great head
Of the mice experiments and their genes of replication, the DNA runs you all, Words in a black hole
Copy that, copy this, everything microscopic & macroscopic to the human eye, window to the soul.
Yahweh speaking the truth without a word being said in any language of signals and slogans sounds
As if anything is more important than living forever after human existence, come on man, 10 rounds
Fight for the prize your eyes can see, ahead or behind where we stand, one place in Space’s reel movie
Beneath the sea foam, underground where the gold hides the original bang of the Big Guy, not Gotti.
My mother used to say (God bless her sweet soul) “What’s wrong with you?” I wondered too, I didn’t
Nothing was wrong with me in the end, it was Nothing that was the subject, my objective to be hidden
Split personality between my EGO & my ID forming my substantial SUPEREGO, 1 psycho heaven sent
Out of love or at least an unintentional conception in a dark womb within female of species’ genome.
Dogs fed to protect the perimeter & innocent shuffling to Buffalo from the middle of E street’s shuffle
Hunger ceases to be once you’ve eaten the fungus among us, learned to read & count, got to The Fall
Of First ones to get to the planet’s star-rock inside One’s form, ejaculate mighty, invisible omnipotence
On a biological analysis, reason & logic lead One conclusion, void, empty Space is full of this nonsense.
Humanitarian trojan horses ceasing to be in time, as if they never existed to begin, Man is done gone
Wise or naïve matters to nobody but the ash of the stars’ supernovas in your face, yo mama’s got it on
Hills facilitating your mind to give up the ghost, it’s difficult to survive if yo’ parents were like a morons
Sickened unto death between the gas & the rock-hard ice, future comin’ & goin’ just to pass, my sons.
Like an iron doornail could be used to crucify a carpenter, a hard rock can be thrown to stone you blue
As if you’d prefer to be the thrower instead of the target, you pretend you’re the uber-holy sheep too
Now then, Extinction is the naked Truth about why all Life exists in a myriad of forms, my little sisters
I’m already gone a bit high on the flower of weeds, psychic skills of 13 ghosts, say something brothers.
A & H fusion & fission, atoms split Adam & Eve, Gaza bones in a microcosm of idiots, rulin’ the roosts
Your old mother is not obligated to take responsibility for childbirth, your father’s one of the Many too
Fear and loathing of the bad guys who were abused children trained to be anti-human, all faith truce
To pretend that human battles & war is an imaginary farce, is no way to annihilate the leader’s putsch.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. One Blovember, MMXXIII Anno Domini @ 555 AMPST
{ Copped out of society’s bloviated importance, retired with stipend to #STFU, drafted this gem while jammin’ to mind-boggling UFO @ https://youtu.be/KKjv_DoyE48?si=UtWdusf8a_XuVm-3 }
F I N I S W.W.A.R.D.?
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