#ricoSacto

Wednesday, October 30, 2024

#GrifterFlombet #GravitySucksSpace #VietNam #JimmyCliff

syncopated COGNITIVE dissonance
@LOONS REQUIRE FLIGHT ABOVE & BELOW
Highlighting the nature of the beast that you’ll know when you see it, it’s remarkable, WORD
You want proof from the pudding just like every follower of super human feats of a whirlybird
Meat locker keeps flesh frozen, unspoiled, being cool naturally, contrived bovine scat polemic
It’s nobody’s fault but mine, I’ve full responsibility in god-mode, no way to desist the schtick.

Top shelf, upper tier monument above and below the floor’s ceiling, Earth planet trajectory
In the middle of the orbit, the revolution materializes, the seasons repeat ad infinitum glory
Great escape from the Big Bang intact with the tails of dogs runnin’ ‘tween Cro-Magnon legs
In and out of the conscious realm, where angels fear to go, stay just a little longer She begs.

Height of absurdity is no more than three to eight feet high above & below the pond scum
I follow nobody’s pathway between here & there, I will arrive when the Time shifts to/from
Where I’ve always been in conscious preconception, both egg & sperm RNA of a GD silly fool
Not their fault or responsibility for the results of original Big Bang creations, above gods too.

There’s a pay-grade you’ve achieved without merit, inherited from RNA recombination, luck
Right or wrong, you got it, many don’t have it & can’t have it, they want it from your phuq
No can do, it’s a pariah set up by the dead minions who left the WORD(s) to recollect dust
On shelves & within hyperspace units of zeroes and ones, it’s all open to turn into red rust.

How you go and when you go are the questions that cannot aid in happiness here & now
For death is the end of your life as well as every other living being that’s ever been born
Barking sounds and plaintive wailing of canines of war & peace, just beware of the dirge
Nobody knows who let the dogs out but they’re as loose as reins on a horseless carriage.

By far, I will celebrate every moment with a fire and a cigar, a smoke just ain’t a joke, man
It’s the perfunctory and elementary function of the animated bones that are all too human
Yet, I digress as I must, losing audience to ennui and the lure of monstrous fleeting glimpses
Of mothers and the godless fathers, homeless and certain to be dead, what the Simon says.

Monday morons utilizing fear-mirrors to seed 360 degrees of circumnavigation in self-distress
Treating you like you want to be treated, like I treat myself, pure, unadulterated peacefulness
Five will get you twenty, if you don’t know what I mean, you’ll find out from your self-defense
Lips moved together, synchronized in the ocean, in the abyss, dream within a dream offense.

Molecular structure of the subatomic matter is the essence of acid, it cannot become extinct
Mutation is the only option, an infinity of progress from Big Bang to the Silent Hush of a kink
In your muscles or just in your own mind, either way the Way itself is narrow & finite, Amen
You & I are fortunate to see, hear, taste, touch & smell the Funk of Skunk & it is All that I am.

Brought a 9mm to a knife fight in the alley behind the golf club, one shot in the dark, caput
No evidence nor any other sign of foul play, just a shock to freeze the face in awe, I shoot
Complete mission once the smoke rises to signal the ends of the malfunction of evolution
Species’ errors of omission confound the mission, in the end, it’s all over, The End, my Son.

Gurgling up the uncontained blood, there’s nowhere to go but a place where you pass out to
Hope you’re close to a soft place to fall down, it won’t matter but it makes me feel better too
Like it or not, you & I are one & the same, 208 bones of contention with the master, just sue
Get counsel & lose all of your gold to the grafters who drift & grift as their mothers screwed.

Never sleep while you’re wide awake or you’ll slip into an eternal dream, knocked out bum
All the other bums see is you, knocked out with empty pockets & purses of billfolds’ scum
Monsters of horror, grown from orphans whacked by mothers & older sisters of the Evil One
You know who they are, they know who they are, in denial or not, they’re a black hole sun.

Knowledge is the clue that Wisdom is impossible although most importantly, what you need
Aware that you will consume Nothing & be happy, that is the cause of being unable to bleed
Your blue blood turns red when it hits the air, all of life depends on remaining blue, the fatter
Buddies, friends, mates, compadres, amigos, in every case, you’re all alone, it doesn’t matter.

Enemies from within your mothers’ master bed-wombs, nothing is as important for survival
The strong & fit will survive except by accidents, they’ll still die like a mortal, soul will rise up
Above the skull and bones you see right here, right now you can find your mother out of mind
Crazy you & me & everyone else on the planet, it’s all cosmic soup, a Campbell’s tomato can.

Severe inflammation of your eyeballs burn their way out of the sockets, a big bulge to die for
If you don’t die like the rest of the genome, then you’re a mutation of the RNA, heretofore
Late at night when I used to take you home, yeah you knew I was a liar, then we kissed lips
No fools we stayed cool like Romeo & Juliette but love, they couldn’t deny for passing ships.

Holy water sprinkled in air around you & then the incense burns to smoke in an H2O pipe
Get ready if you’re willing and able to turn on the switch, one way off, one way on point
Hence, late at night, took you home, I wanted to stay, you wanted to be alone, I am gone
Still, when we kissed, it was like Fire itself, got a hold on me tight as a tourniquet on bone.

My heart beat out my chest, I love a misunderstanding I pose, it must be why I’m gonna die
With or without you baby, One I will love even after I die, my bones crunched to dust, I spy
My memories of days I spent flying in the dream of blues and purples, green-orange, fuchsia
Keeping heads in the game, from the start to the finish, you will ALWAYS win, you’re Fire, Ed!

With or without your assistance at 411, I’ll dial 911 for the 111 & get an immediate response
From the team of two or three to four to a million or three, big time is no time for me & you
It’s out of the hands of you & I, still I’ve got to hand it to you, the gold is invisible undercover
Yet, it’s a thing itself, the wisdom of knowledge, good, evil, beauty, Earth’s on-the-side lover.

Two or tree times six is twelve or eighteen, just sayin’ it’s not a speech impediment, it’s tree
Three is the proper spelling, accepted according to the dead priests and other men of history
Secular and religious, in every possible way, to soothe the savage beasts in the roost, jam on
In rhapsody or classical staccato the master and slave clash prior to Big Peep, The End of fun.

Alas, have more than your share because some will leave theirs behind, don’t waste my time
I’ve no moments left over for anyone but me, myself & I as well as the amigos/amigas prime
Strangers in the human race, the primate phase of special and general relativity has passed
Now hear this is then, when It all comes down to brass tacks, you know It’s gonna be a blast.

Deterrence as I associate with the peace of having my own back when all is said & done
Nobody can be as vigilant as I, myself can, hence I’ve got 20/20 hindsight/foresight, son
YOU inherited the RNA, fortunate for sons & grandchildren nobody knew, too illegit to quit
Skin is in the game and since day One, my skin holds the whole shebang inside, intact chit.

What I am is who I am & what you are too, what in the name of Zeus has become this One
Silence of dead heads in three-lock-boxes with combinations unknown to the living spawn
Of Adam, Eve & the unnamed stoned Cro-Magnon & Homo Chablis skulls & bones of Spring
Punks born & raised by punks, smokin’ Luckies & Camels’ straights, on the corner watching.

Swearing and cussing out loud so the children learn to speak the Truth told by lyin’ liars
They’re related to nobody in it, distant recombinant RNA malformed in God’s black hole
Flipping yo’ mother off because she finally told you that you’re an orphan, nobody’s buzz
Race in Camp town where archangels fear to fly in & out of, homeless Homers & Hannas.

Go down to the bottom of Earth’s core, inside of the center, the middle, that’s the essence
Dreams came out of the black & blue, annihilated in fear and loathing the genius was dense
Inherited the trash & garbage that the Puerto Ricans threw into the dump, that’s a fact Jack
Crosses burning the wood into ash & cinders, all souls die soon after E Streets atrophy back.
 
by
r j j stephan, i
c. Mardi, ROCKTOBER XXIXth MMXXIV Anno Domini @ 911 AMPST

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

Sunday, October 27, 2024

#WickedMothers #BegottenNunsSistersDaughtersMothers #ParFour #CourseMaui #DavesNotHereEither

IX – uno – UNO

Seems as if you’ve gone off of the deep end, you know It, depth of point of no return
When the mid-space you’ve carved out of Time you don’t own has collapsed to graft
Getting chit all free from Tierra del Fuego to CUNY campus hub, grifters' magneto
Knowing nothing about your mind or soul, just 208 bones humans inherit to go.

By the time I got to the stones, I began workin’ the angle to cheat the stupid MFs
Creeps you have to be near, disturbing your feng shitake noire, you’re the Fathers
Mothers could not scam fathers more easily, all sisters, daughters & wicked aunts
There’s a scam goin’ on in the racket, pretending to be One when you’re all none.

It’s survival of the Dostoevsky moron who plays the idiot, neat package gods’ fate
Who will prick up the other men’s sisters & wives, every angle of a female bum
They have their teeth and smile, all there is in the mob is the boss & the racket scum
Clip a buck here & a buck there, gain the trust, work the angle, it’s your auntie great.

Here’s your dilemma of whether you should stay or go, you have no choice, MOVE IN
What’s the angle, you want the right one, the obtuse or less than 90 to 1 degree of sin
Meaning your foolish trip from conception & birth led to my path, your fork in the road
TNT ain’t dynamite as you suspected but it will blow your bubble into the origin’s load.

We ain’t from Earth but our creators came to tell all of the grifters the code to the system
Buying the morons and idiots scam, you will turn on your friend & ghost the rest of them
Give me your wallet & #’s so I can trust you, am I mistaken or accurately calculating sums
It’s all the same in the end, the final curtain will fall for certain, no negotiation, possums.

Asleep while wide awake only means your attention has been arrested by propositions
At once logical & theoretical, no proof beyond a doubt that anything is true, #Vince man
Appreciate your position on a lifeline from zero to infinity, nobody gets outta here alive
Hope for genetic perfection, immunity to foreign viral agents and somebody to love.

Keep this too close to the vest, you know what I know & you know it all, y’all know you do
So, without further ado, let’s leave for Kokomo, way down there in Montserrat’s mystique
Catching a glimpse or two of the places in Space where it all goes down, as high as a gad fly
You all need to meet me for coffee, tea and the rest of the things you don’t care for, I’ll buy!

Leave baggage, empty on the beach, preconceived Key Largo, Aruba, Montego, Kokomo, all done
Neither yesterday nor the day before, frequency-waves & a rip tide went below gravity’s sand dunes
Before you’re ash & dust dissolves into a matrix, I want you to know it’s where I wanted you to go
Long time, short time, anytime you think about it, know you got two lips to kiss, in downlow blow.

You know epistemologically, credit devolved into deficit & you’re dead weight for nuclear waste
They cannot perfect chemistry or provide a catalyst for extinction of the species’ DNA post haste
Before the End allows natural selection to resume its ascent into the top of the food chain, has-beens
Heck & high water more love than you can hate without a dish rag or rally towel, you morons fix it.

Luck has nothing to do with being in the right place at the right time, unknown nothing relativities
To alpha & omega, your language has done you an injustice with subjective predicate spelling bees
Barroom brawls all ended as they began, broke glass cuts, outlaws won fights some fought & died
Winning was everything after all, you don’t mind running your mouth further than your legs fly, eh?

Contact high on fools below my face, five to six feet above underground, rocks rollin’ away, Hole
Left there in the bottom of the mountain of gold hill, where gods stashed pages I read, stay calm son
 If I was either on edge or at least appeared to be intensely psyched up where a man survives alone 
Like blasting off to another planet, you’ve no choice but to thrust away from the ground’s holy zero.

I won’t leave too soon & never be late, allow me to choose Liberty rather than being all too human
Retired from the good luck of poison pens which wrote words that washed away the old Peter Pan
It’s too fine, in the end, it all goes the way it should, until a Black Hole resumes the DNA transition
Into the void place where y’all want to go, down in cool Kokomo now, be a subatomic soul, son!
 
by
r j j stephan, i

c. Dimanche, ROCKTOBER XXVIIth, MMXXIV Anno Domini @222 PMPST

{ Fried some cells in the cerebral cortex, reason for rhyme, @ThePointerSisters #FIRE in a loop, youTube link @  https://youtu.be/ZBtAiwNcsiA }

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

FOOLS' COMEDY, GENIUS' TRAGEDY