ONE BOWL OF SUPERMEN & SUPERWOMEN IN A BUGATTI
I can move as an animated bag of 208 bones, both up & down ala fireNevermore to repeat the never afore mentioned on a hot funeral pyre
Hating things that happened doesn’t prevent the hot recurrence of it all
Coming from nowhere you’ve ever been, between my ears in this skull.
Hysterical as you’ll be once Time itself disappears from your radar, it will
Believe it or not, no blind faith in reports ala the living, check the graves
Time above ground leaves no doubt about how long buried down under
Us & them, we’ll cut the lawns over hot-spots’ labeled granite blunders.
Years since birth to the year of finality’s death-call, resting underground
Check the hippies’ long hair for bugs, electronic or insecticide resistant
Marvelous as it appears at first blush, first glance is the 2nd glance of It
Superbowl after the first fifty-nine winners and losers, smell of bull chit.
Remarkable and above reproach, morality and ethics of the Pope & Czar
Miracles of the dead folks who were born, raised & died drinkin’ in a car
Tell the Truth, the absolute one not the relative one, do not clap the dap
Completely furious about the Great Lie, immortality is dead man’s clap.
You and the rest of y’all who worship the silver & gold, no darker black
Or lighter white to see when the sun goes down, without fire or power
It’s a matter of campfires, chasin’ away thieves, scavengers of war spoils
If you think your life is tough, it’s paradise to dead ancestors’ dirty toils.
No form that life may occupy, no place in Space is the Void’s cosmic sea
Nothing else anywhere in another dimension of timing space, no doubt
What part of the English language is unclear about the nature of reality
Setting sun is a name for disappearance of shine as Earth spins about.
Finish the fait au complet whatever that entails, deduce a happy ending
No mystery and soon common knowledge to all, humans are dreaming
Sleeping at night and death brings the eternal essence to bear, all to be
Count, spell, theorize until you mesmerize the idiot-morons in the scree.
Being beautiful and good is a tool to barter for the desires & royal needs
It is a critical theory which isn’t necessarily a Truth at all, the race is on
On the first turn or just before the backstretch of backstreet older boys
Re-center your attention, arrest it by the shore of tranquility, Zen ploys.
If & only if you don’t mind, so feel free to annoy me with a questioner
As if I don’t have another thought in my head other than you, yes sir
You may be with or without a high IQ, it matters little in rigor mortis ill
Turning the living clay back into the dust it gleaned out the Big Bang kill.
Now is the time, here is the place it all turns from water into red wine
Wish you were not who you’ve turned out to be but that’s the breaks
You reap what you sow & if you sow bad seed, you reap rotten ol’ crop
All the same, even if you have a bumper crop, y’all live to eat our cakes.
Crime to disobey the rules & laws of the middle road because of karma
A ledger keeping track of the good, the bad and the ugly from a trauma
Being conceived & born in 9 months is a miracle, like walking on water
From there, being detached from the chord, being independent of Her.
Mother Nature or your mama from another sister, is all but sacrosanct
In retrospect of the Present that followed the recent & distant Past time
Presence is Past immediately once you draw a breath & pack a suitcase
Feeling sunshine transforming my dead face back into the human race.
I was nineteen & then I saw it turn to sixty-nine, city to country river run
Starting line to the finish, I inherited a fine IQ to circumnavigate the fun
Training taught the rules & regulations, muscles strengthened, mind too
All the power stored within will be summoned to assist unto death’s flu.
High as the stratosphere & low as the Earth’s core, Nothing else matters
All of the causes and ill effects of relationships with a myriad of 96 tears
By the time the Crying’s over, everything that lived decomposes in synch
Atoms matter in form, day, swing or night shift, divinity all pretty in Pink.
by
r j j stephan ic. February 4th 2026 AD at 333 PMPST
{ Cracked this
nutshell while jammin’ to #ALoveSupreme by @John_Coltrane link for youTube https://youtu.be/dAUIV_fwrmI &
@BruceSpringsteen #OnlyTheStrongSurvive on youTube link https://youtu.be/lTRS-dNAgvA?si=5DENmBw4LTVlwTWQ }
F I N I S W.W.A.R.D.?
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