#ricoSacto

Sunday, August 11, 2024

#SkippingToMyLuLuCarolAnn #TheRollingStones #HappyEnding #DualingVPeeze #TakeAPillow #TakeAKnee

NOT AS HOT AS KAMELA’s DANGLING PARTICIPLE
Certainty is a necessary condition for feeling complacent in one holy pew
Conversion of you and yours cannot be in church on Sunday, alive in a zoo
Private and behind closed, locked doors that nothing mortal can violate It
Original sins’ ancestral crimes against humanity, cold immersion of a teat.

Dreaming in living color of the cosmic fairy dust or rainbow disappearance
Fallen leaves from all plants grown from seedless grapes of wrath nonsense
Won the game I didn’t know was a sorry monopoly of winning a trophy wife
Clear skin in the game, blinded by dementia still full of perpetual woke jive.

Bums to bump the logs jammed to dam the river water for inertia Powerade
True honest work from one third to half of every day, unmade in the shade
Cause first and then effect, without the primary there’s nothing but hot fog
From periodic bleeding of the womb, we become these boys & girls in a bog.

Swamped or deleted moisture in the hip hop, bee bop means you’re immersed
Within the ice and fire down deep inside of the atoms’ molecules, God is dead
Nihilism of all dead philosophers to dine on, leftovers to become refused & shat
Blind faith in unknown, ineffable beings who cannot be seen or heard, all of that.

Skepticism can’t be denied although it cannot produce any absolute Truth in gas
Hydrogen, oxygen, nitro glycerin cause animation, Blow will kill your old jive arse
Beating you and winning the game we played with bent rules of regulation, sins
Against human and divine providence, I stand as one corpuscle of bloody sons.

You don’t know anything that can’t be known, that’s the Unknown, the mystery
Completed secret mission to nowhere is the place you are right now, pretwilight
In a zone afar, where you’ve never, ever been since you became woke, divine fool
Fabulously fantastic dreams of awakened consciousness fooling our two ears.

Free and loose atomic substances mixing their electrons up with the evil protons
Waking up you and I in the sleeping bags near the campfire, we were upwind scent
All of the things from microscopic subatomic substance to macroscopic essence
Each and every one of names we’ve attached to subjects of predicating photons.

Coming out of azure blue is never an option if you’ve not been conceived in darkness
As I think that’s the reason, I’ve gone daft, finding out all life is just a dream by the by
Here & now is the present Presence, recollect precognitive though forgotten density
Before any Big Bang, both personal & species-wide, empty tank void, ole ocean free.

Monkey business created to obfuscate the Truth from those who would lose, I sing
Others who might not lose sanity might be tempted to be inhumane, allow evil booty
Sewage drunk, filled up from head to toe, excrement left to grow the beast’s beauty
Beyond Earth’s atmosphere, far away from the Space Station, everything is Nothing.

Hermes full of Mercury’s hot dust to suck up Venus, Earth, Mars, Saturn, U, N & Pluto
End of the line where infinity appears nowhere in eyesight’s insight, lips together blow
Whistling Dixie or whatever punks on the corner blow fro the ‘hood, easy to be rough
Meant to be more or less an accident, as if there’s no intention of a higher power love.

Peers of punks who are either lone wolves from other brothers & sisters who fouled up
Need to know how to raise a baby boy and baby girl before you hook up the junk & hose
Pretenders like you & your grandmama get paid to desert the ship when it’s sinkin’ fast
It’s OK, I see Evil morality, the right & the wrong, good & bad bat scat ugly, you jackass.

Finely you get the hang of the movement, then a doctor says you’re dyin’ fast, it’ll end
Fear the reaper but even if you don’t you have a date one day or one night, do I offend?
Somebody like yo’ teachers, mothers or fathers should have downloaded the program
Brought you some love you would have never known if I didn’t conquer the hate, mam.

by
r j j stephan, i
c. Dimanche, 8-11-2024 AD @ 222 PMPST

{ Drafted while 3 sheets to the wind, #Sailing with @ChrisCross on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/MEO6gYCFbr0?si=i6QrECcP8EPI7ZAX }
F I N I S
W.W.A.R.D.?

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