WADING IN H2O, AWAITING DIHYDROOXY BAPTISM
Sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
Nothing itself moves me at the gates of hell too, yet there’s no other place above or below
Kill a switch is a bit different than the switch mama axed me to pick from the squash patch
Discipline baptized and confirmed in my communion & confession, to be Catholic, attaboy
From K.C. to Providence and back down & over to Houston & San Diego’s ocean gods, ahoy!
Hollywood could have slipped you a Mickey and you didn’t have any idea, you cancelled life
Died and left your place in Space, where gravity & centrifugal forces merged in a holy orbit
Elliptical wonder, no traffic in the way or in the wake, found in broken xy water of yo’ mama
Perfect punk you evolved from that zygote, innocent & aware of Presence, future’s pastime.
Full Monty or just a quick trip to Big Sur & Monterey’s peninsula jutting out from Mendocino
It ain’t there man, it’s San Ysidro or up north of Weed, I forgot the CIA & FBI harmed my soul
Silenced by the gold, called the Silence itself golden, as if White Noise is Nothing, I am free
Israelites or Pleiadeans who came & went above & below It, a meteor of prophetic folklore.
Soulful spirit ghost without matter, an invisible, imaginary vision of smoke and mirror hype
Now you know you forgot or just purged from your recollection for survival, pipe dream type
Kidding you like being in the confessional with an imaginary Jesus in the dark, I’m sorry man
You spent a lot of Jack on edumacating, that parochial papacy, served mass, all too human.
Burnt up tryin’ to enter this atmosphere, you’re here, gates of hell we remain ‘til dyin’ days
Enjoy the ride, rocket ship or snail pace, escape the 208 bones & that’ll be all of it’s phase
Apes apparently naked, exposed the wrap of the organic matter, skull and bones of ladies
Born through a womb of troubled ova invaded by a chilled out galactic system, yo’ mama.
Peeled back the onion skin and the exposure of the middle gets the last laugh, hear gods
Hosting everything between the TNT and the Supernova, implosion comin’ Black Hole Ids
Ego merge with the fire, you know that’s hot like the girls you thought wanted some head
False alarm ad infinitum, wade in the H2O, you can’t swim, you’ll breath in H2O, Be dead.
Scream silently & you’ll see you’re underwater, nobody gives a hoot that you’re even alive
Bubble escaping with the last of the holy air that’s only above but not below the sea level
No fish out alive in the air, no animals but porpoises, dolphins & whales be jellyfish amigos
Snakes and eels, sure there’s the amphibious & intergalactic traveling DNA funk, I suppose.
Hard or soft are the poprocks turned into lava & meteor platinum like there’s no tomorrow
Man, there ain’t any a tomorrow the day after you die, woman, man & every little thing, now
Be done, be prepared, as if you’re the scout you’ve been trained to be, at one as a machine
Corner of each block’s edge, 4 bases intersected, dead ended by two jiggers of moon shine.
Waded in the mudhole’s water, t’was thick up to my shins, only 4 feet deep, baby shot a gun
Baptized by the host of planetary life, a hawk turned up the heat in eagle’s nest of flim flam
Bizarre is merely the unfamiliar to the naïve and innocent, faultless with no harm done, son
Even if there was a modicum of harm done, nobody GAF because nothing matters, damn!
Imagine that you were just fine last evening & then out of nowhere, your hurricane comes
In & out of town in a New York Minute, like Dorothy in the Wizard of OZ witch broom bombs
In the rear-view mirror or on the horizon, it’s Space’s Earth, spinnin’ yarn out of prison Time
Horrible or wonderful, it’s One’s alternative at this point of being at the scene of the crime.
Part of the whole in a fraction of the computation, juxtaposed upon peanut butter biscotti
Form of the shaped thing isn’t crucial to value, alpha-computer chip will part the Red Sea
Prima face in the right place at the right time to absorb & incorporate one Optimus prime
Fond of living and freedom from indentured servitude, which is an IOU, pitstop on a dime.
Funk on Broadway or depression down & out on Main Street, hobo like your inner voice
A disembodied consciousness’ disruption discussion regarding the nature of free choice
Either you believe you have it or you don’t and there’s no middle road between extremes
One way or another, bullseye is dialed in for a no-miss hit with eyes wide open to memes.
I paid but you may not have so I took credit for paying your tab, so you’d save face I guess
Pride and random luck of the draw yields a bet, a raise, a call & what you see what you got
Ace high flush, beats your three ladies and pair of cowboys kickin’ I the stall, joker might
Putting the liquid with the dense matter, masticated inorganic anti-matter in injected TNT.
Transformation of substance’s essence happens the moment you eat the whole shebang
Hosted enculturation of the petri-dish full of random pools of ectoplasm in uteri’s play skit
Trembling from fingers onto toes, never more nervous than the first time you find the coitus
Necessary condition to lure each & every one of the x’s & y’s to merge the mix in DNA pus.
Fickle finks from Philadelphia without a first clue to reason why they sleep & dream, a jig
Jumpin’ up and down, all around the mulberry bushes and wherever there is no more, dig
Lures casted upstream for the trip along the bottom of the slag from the mountaintop H2O
Melted snow from the oceans and rivers of a million years, more or less, it’s a put-on flow.
Done it all because it had to be done, a gravitational collapse is immanent & in the mix up
When the black hole pulls the far out rocks back to the origin, the ‘x’ Singularity’s tea cup
Eggs mitotically dividing without conception of genome, all sex & candy, immaculate son
Like Jesus & the saints who nearly became angels before they fell into Hell with the demon.
No imagination, it’s all reality which has nothing imagined, the real is not imagined, but wait
If impossible to imagine something, how can a fantasy of a phantasm be deemed, The Deal
The unreal remains after bodies die of disease or worn-out old age of the machine’s organs
Souls making one no bigger than either one, asses parked in Space that’s momentarily real.
The olden days that nobody recorded because they were illiterate with no in cursive or print
Hence, lost wisdom and knowledge left in fragments transferred to leaf of the trees, Mint
Gold value to diamonds self-worth, partner on my finger to remind me I’m betrothed to Her
My lady, po’ kid her father raised to find me, here & now, to fulfill the destiny of a twin tower.
by
r j j stephan, I
c. Vendredi, ROCKTOBER IVth, MMXXIV
Anno Domini @ 111 PMPST
{
Drafted while jammin’ to @BrooksAndDunn jammin’ #Maria on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/fZSiBj4vCiY?si=I9BhnLJf6ImdGpcb }
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