BLOODS' DNA RECONNOITERED, CRYPTS' PLETHORA
Freedom appears to be liberty hidden from tyranny, a woman’s right to execute an abortion
Last gasp of hot wind that gets past our lips is all we can hope for, man, life lives to shorten
I’m drooling at the plethora beginning on a trip to drink @Hamms & @Schlitz brew smells
Boys will be boys, and it gives you guts to do chit you’d never do runnin’ & ringin’ bells.
Your people on the block knew who you were, idiot, but you didn’t read Dostoevsky yet
Much later in life than 15 years old, but at least by the time you turned 75, all above It all
Singing about lost love because you had to move away from obedience to another Will
Power the species which directs another’s will by hook or crook; it’s a blessing roadkill,
Put some change into the juke box and play some Brooks & Dunn to set souls free
Out of the blue and into the black, above the skies of grey, there’s nothing at all to see
Yet you think that there’s an afterlife somewhere outside of your body & mind in error
No fault meant by the reality of the way things are and the First Cause of Being failure.
Hard foul on the court, penalty and fines become the one and only thing that’s solid chit
There are some young and some old people alive on the planet who have no idea what’s up
I got lucky a few nights in my teenage years, and I had five or six kids in Chicago, all far away
I was no bright, young, Catholic boy, a C-minus student at best, before I joined the VN War.
Why couldn’t we have been friends like every other stranger we ran into? All meant to be
Whether this is the life of each one of us & then it’s all over for everyone, no Valhalla above
Or that this Life is a testing place for the angel wings we’ve never used, didn’t need to fly
We had planes and jets with fossil fuel to move around in Time & Space, until y’all just die.
Buried bones and ashes cast asunder for the love of might and the minions who follow a fight
No need to call out the sound of the Word, it is what it’s always been & what it’ll always be
Just a step in the sequence of origin to destination, as an X rocket ship mirrors our solo flight
Friends or not, we’re the same mud, blood, sweat and tears from the motherlode, queen bee.
With due diligence and the care you’d give to your own true self, if you only knew who “It Is”
Dance quick or slow with or without the sound of the Word, it’s a Way of being out of the jizz
Again, my parents paid for a solid twelve years of parochial assimilation to the liturgical creep
Comin’ before you were at the age of reason to object to the misanthropic cornucopian deep.
Bring a knife to a gunfight if you don’t mind not surviving past the holy bullet hole or cut/slice
From the enemy of the heroes we call brothers-in-arms, they’re comin’ for the children of ICE
Beer brewed for our inebriation, not to mention the spirits of the fruit of the loom, slo gin fizz
In a dream, within a dream, ad infinitum, so empty as a zero, that you believe in Zeus & Osiris.
Bright light, kill the lights, smooth road, broken asphalt & bones, it’s night and day you hotrod
Believe what you know is true, if you don’t know it, then don’t believe it, a sceptic, oh my God
Nobody teaches the things they don’t know about, knowledge sought after, nobody teaches it
Heart & soul, inside, nay outside, as you were, so above, as below, God blocking our starlight.
Meaning nothing by the tone of voice I allow to escape my throat, it’s loud yet clear as a bell
Subjects and objects predicated just to watch the miracle unfold, saying what you mean, Hell
And meaning what you say when you say it, sing it or shout it out, as long as it’s the WORD
Tone and length of the note stretched into the mating ritual with the notation of the absurd.
Inside the cold turkey, there’s some hot giblet gravy, but nobody knows until the bird’s cut up
It all comes down to the brass tacks used at the very beginning of the coup d’ete in the big top
You know the Truth, you will die, but you can’t guess when, which day or night of the futures
We all knew it was denied, occult knowledge, a wise move to remain insanity’s membrane.
Olden or good ol’ days become the memory of the dead & gone, living survivors deaf & dumb
It’s not their fault, they wouldn’t be capable of accepting any responsibility for the obligation
To the humanity or the inhumanity, the spirits in the sky salute you, those about to rock some
From reflective sunlight, a shining black sea, coast to coast with fire engine blare, a mortal sin.
To bet your life on your uncertainty that you’ll be a spirit alive after your corpse is burnt up
Or even if it’s infused with formaldehyde or wet chicken feathers, like a philosopher in a cage
Smaller than what you & I are able to see with the eyesight 20/20 more or less, turn the page
It’s all over except you don’t know it yet, Future’s a sax blowin’, you’re in a deep fake outrage.
In the middle of the raging river current, you tried to backstroke upstream, all high on hopes
All's above and below the phony show under the covers of reality, accept or be the prison dopes
Bloody 7Up water drained into a sewer hole, blew my mind, God’s too, a defecation of the dead
That’s all cosmic slop of legend, WORD can’t describe the actual, thing itself, God’s in duh bed.
by
r j j stephan, i
( sorry, daddio )
c. Mercredi, June XVIIth, MCMLXXII Anno Domini @ 00:01 AMPST
F I N I SW.W.A.R.D.?
GOD in HEAVEN
