bloody cool as lava #TheRealThing #AintNothinLikeIt

m.a.s.h.  mobile surgery planet cake

Signaling from far, far away that there’s nothing more nor less here and now but I digress
This here little ditty ain’t for the faint of heart nor the children from 0-70 years old incest
Thinking about this therefore, I exist as you do, hear me out for a moment, I know tradition
Yet this tradition is occult for the ones who don’t have a need to know, it’s originally no sin.

To know it all, why we’re here on Earth at this Time in Space, at least for our true selves too
Desire and fear merge into full on power to create or destroy the universe, we spit in the blue
Taking Word for the Truth itself when it’s a mere tool to express the thing before a word’s said
Inducted into the hall of iniquity where the hidden can be unveiled for the living & the dead.

Masters and slaves born to be wild and tamed to fit into the mold of adaptable existence DNA
By their own handy, divine force, invisible or ten commands, declared constitutions of the day
Independence from the masters who crack whips & force slaves to comply with propaganda
As if the words mean that the fear of matter will be assuaged, no matter what happens in play.

Jungle bunnies ruining the stage performance of the One, the only me, myself and a 3rd eye
One of the many that sees what it sees and then see no more, as it was & always will be, I see
Everything from the first atom to the final arpeggio from the treble & bass of the musical Ends
Playin’ the hot top 50 for me, chills recollecting in my wallet, worked to feed those girlfriends.

Preview of the real thing and then compare it to the false nothing leftover when you meditate
Grounded to your picture hangin’ on the wall, all I have to see since you went on a tour of duty
Commander of the troops who guard the golden letters of the United States, harm nobody’s eye
Glasses made to break into bits of bites so tiny you can’t see them but you know it ain’t too late.

Tourniquets for all the wounded losing blood fast, you got to keep the blood from turning red
Keep it separated from the other things that turn black & blue once the verve moves on to it
Like gravitational pull upon my soul, it’s draggin’ me & mine down the maelstrom going down
Never comin’ back to the place in Space I was before, what a classic saga of getting my frown.

Sad that it’s come to this, explains the frown, like I can’t bring back the happy daze of the 60’s
Hippies are all gone, Nam heroes & ex-girlfriends who married somebody else, welcome home
Swearing all of the words from A to Z that make all the good boys & girls go to confession to see
What goes in one ear and out another like the speed of sound, 1800 feet per second it can’t be!

Yet it is, around the four corners we’ve run the dozens too long & now we’ve got to rest it up
It’s a long way to the top of the Earth’s apex when you can’t get around the equator’s cafe cup
Follow all the ants, follow the gents & ladies to the Space between their eyes, empty or full of It
O’er here or o’er there, beware dogs, see the exit, you may need to leave in a New York Minute.

Move your eyes over here & look at me, don’t look away, never look away when you speak God
Communication and communion with anything and anyone is a gift, you’re a souped up hotrod
Presented with an ability to telecommunicate with a separate, disconnected entity, it’s so cool
Faster than hot, quicksand suckin’ weight down below the choke line, struggle it’s quickening.

Mercy to none and grief for all who see Life as something more than an accident of nature
Conditioned babies to think there’s a Big Guy up in the Sky for catching souls dyin’ to get in
Into the wild, blue yonder before it turns to dots of shine down in a deep, dark fold of black
Pine smoked, hash toked, mainlined the blues & the rhythm, seminal moment, I Am Back!

by
r j j stephan, i
c. Dimanche, June XXXth MMXXIV Anno Domini @ 444 PMPST
{ Intercoursed concourse with the Concord Speed Of Sound & Infrared Waves jammin’ to #NothingLikeTheRealThing @ https://youtu.be/0Niou3l6Zcc }
F I N I S
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