flow IS THE WAY TO GO
A moment after I was punched in the nose, I lost a pint of blood or two
Seemed like a whole gallon, transfused before the operation, MF mook
From Texas or Mississippi, like a plague it got from Florida to Montana
Conditional digits flash zero to nine ad infinitum, Hangtown to Coloma.
Now is the time in Time, inside of the outer limits of a twilight zone soul
General and Particular for a subject and predicate, metaphysics of a hole
Nothing special about comprehending conclusions with truths as proofs
As above, it is exactly the same as below, regardless of your other spooks.
Think therefore you may be what you think you is, soda cracker you are too
No fooling your perfect perception, extra-zero of the plus and minus of “x”
Long number line from zero to infinity, multiple choices to swig more brew
Kegs & ponies emptied out after red solo cups all got burnt in a flambé stew.
Inside the labor force there’s a ghost remaining after the heroes all died out
After the battles on hallowed ground, their bones got a period & a full stop
Punks with greasy hair, combed back in a pretend barbershop group-pop
Road from the garden of Eden onto the road to Hades, God morphs doubt.
Jump off of the cliff to the water of the sea, down below the trails and beach
Deep breath & jump, eyes both wide open seeing the last sight within reach
Lights go out & it’s just like falling asleep on a blanket on the sidewalk, ever
And ever ad infinitum, above, so below, what will be, will be, that’s forever.
Prick up your ears so you can’t only hear Sound but also your blowin’ horn
This isn’t what is happening on Earth for all the dead & gone, all too human
Bright lights shining inside the closet of darkness, old ladies have no reason
Oh, your God didn’t create you? God is not dead since never was ever born.
Or will you know you’re dead once you die? No but I don’t know why, so
I’m doing my best at being the worst I’ve ever been, I have confidence ditto
Hard or softer rocks getting the rhythm & blues in order to reflect ghosts
They’re here & now, some time & then vanished, all night’s twitter posts.
I’ve no doubt about it, dumb luck takes care of the problems with destiny
Face it sooner or later, you’re in it to win it or you’ll die up high in the sky
Meaning nothing but the ways and the means to achieve nirvana is mine
Don’t own it, just using the thing itself, it’s holy oneness’ is so Pope fine.
Uncle Romeo married Aunt Juliette & were real life, daughters & sons
Of south Jersey near Philly was close enough to Brooklyn’s Bowery boys
Faces get pretty or they don’t, it depends on the DNA combo, Ma virgin
It’s what’s inside that counts, so they say, perfect form of flesh & bone.
Got bent just like my girlfriend who married me told me to, honey stealth
Broadened my horizon in twenty-four hours of unexpected introspection
I had to pivot from my original sin, biting into a forbidden fruit, apple sin
High up above the highest palm & redwood trees, bald eagles fly in health.
Between the origin of life and the final curtain, it’s a play on words to go
Pin cushion soft & ready for a stab and choke, the last one had a black belt
Retaliated & caused severe emotional & physical stress on the hero at hand
Fan means “fanatic” out of touch, out of time outs as above, so hot below.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. Mercredi, August 20th MMXXV Anno
Domini @ 808 PMPST
“A slow dance with fate, shoes untied, tripping over the
punctuation marks of memory—every stumble a stanza, every gasp a rhyme. Words
unravel between the edge of a whisper and the thundercrack of hindsight,
chasing the truth through shadowed corridors where echoes sign divorce papers
with invisible ink. The hero limps forward, carrying scars like curious
constellations, searching in the dark for a story worth the bruise, a meaning
stitched inside the aftermath.”
By Artie fishell the intel Agents one
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