"It is what it is & I can't stands no more!" #HillbillyBones @TwoPopeyes #WheresWADE #WADESinTheWATER #PHILADELPHAfreedom @EltonJohn #MavisStaples #PinkFloyd #TheROCK #TheEaglesBand

I LOVE L.A. UNTIL DAWN, IT’S WHERE BOOGIE WOOGIE CAME OUT THE BACKWOODS

Even if you never find it, it was worth more than silver & gold to have attempted it

Makin’ the gold out of the lead when nobody else knew and all denied it could be

Yet, the boogie woogie is now stacked up to the ceiling & nobody can take it all away

Arriving with the wind in the morning & departing with the freight trains on byways.

Drank until drunk more than I needed to hydrate the H2O & alcohol, now I’m passed out

Allowing my psyche to emerge as the voice of reason, don’t start laughing, psyche will shout

At you & yours until you relent & admit that you were wrong & he was right about everything

Reason to believe is without proof, just a chimera of thoughts unconnected by your bee sting.

Around in circles to increase the circulation of the words & meaning behind the random signs

With or without a dose of Evil genius in your souls, the thing itself remains the tie that binds

Hunger and thirst for the sounds and sights that you feel are your inheritance, a ton of blues

Dead phonies who look forward to three in a row when they’re lucky to have ripped off two.

Even if it’s not Halloween, I still feel the need to smash pumpkins on the streets of mobiles

Automatic & manual transmissions of 4 gears to 18, depending on the trans’ teethed gears

Like it or not, it’s all we have & all there is as far as we can imagine, given the controls given

By either good fortune or pitched intelligence which prefers anonymity to fame & worship.

Cartoons morphing into everyday reality of everyone of us all, babies to elders on the porch

If this wasn’t so catastrophically sad, I’d laugh out loud uncontrollably in a reverent church

Who y’all put ABOVE yourselves is your myth & your post-mortem surprise; it’ll be so Fun

Count on celebrating or just going out with a whimper, it’s a 50/50 chance, it ends with a gun.

Mission is important & impossible for the normal person, it’s the extraordinary ones who rock

You know some of them, maybe you’re related to some of them, you all may be one of them

Try harder to stay alive after your final huff of fresh air, the gas mix sent from the sun block

Finish line crossed out of Timing Everything, except the Thing Itself; it’s always 12 o’clock rock!

Hordes of red, white and blue fill the atmosphere to make the bad guys feel very unsafe too

They fear the way they’ll get caught being an illegal alien from a bad country who didn’t want

Them or their families to remain in the birth country, kicked them out to stroll the planet blue

Some did & some didn’t make it through; in the end, rich & poor perish, then y’all get bent!

Throw all your chips in and call the bluff of the mouth that won’t like it when the loss occurs

You win, but you get shot under the table as if you didn’t win fair & square, sore loser thirst

To get it all back for free and lose it all again, that’s what the thrill is for the heart heaven sent

Nobody who is a winner knows this as the Truth; we die, it’s all over, reward or punishment.

Flowers to smoke or to arrange in a vase to look at until death do they depart the sugar water

In every case, it’s the cream of the crop, higher than the phenomenal gender bender scatter

Hot fun, cold days, everyone’s invited but only the brave & ready to roll, go too low not to go

Down there at the bottom, all else is looking up, it’s a big stick over your head, so just BLOW!

Don’t be a doobie or a don’t bee, it’s a program invented to cause failure of the species’ DNA

Parlay all of your earnings and winnings into a huge pile of Gold & Wisdom, it’s all The Fate

Karma or not, the most excellent news coming to read all about it is, You & the rest, chimera

Ghostly from first whisp of gas until a Yankee catches a perfect game, forever, ala a Yogi Berra.

b y
r  j  j  stephan, i

c.  Mercredi, July 8^th MMXXVI Anno Domini @ 1647 PMPST

{ Anyway, jammed this one out of the universe while listenin’ to @TinaTurner #ProudMary in the @Netherlands on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/TTfYnRQgKgY?si=NyfCZu3eM1laa9Q8 }

F I N I S

W.W..A.R.D.?

#MyChit SIGNAL / DREAM GHOSTED / CHIMERA TRILOGY 3 FORMS & 1 SUBSTANCE IN THREES #ItIsDoneOver #WhenToHoldEmWhenToFoldEm #NoExceptions #NoRules @USAF @F47

LINK TO:  MY TRILOGY GHOSTED CHIMERA "SIGNAL

SIGNAL BODY, MIND, SOUL,

 A RICO TRILOGY

WOE BETIDE Y'ALL BEFORE PASSING-OUT

 PASSES TO THE BEAUTIFUL

It is what it is in totality’s plethora, subject-predicate objects both present futures to realize

Of course, you’ll want to be present under the silvery moon or pitch-black skies, in disguise
I can say no to anything at all, even what I ought to be affirmative about, the cat that smells
Far out on a limb with my best friend, Jelly Roll who died one day without notice, dead lead.

Turned it all into gold, just a planetary effulgence of what’s left over from the Big Bang’s ID
Jaws dropped, now or later, it never matters a bit, I’m not gonna lie, I ne’er lie y’all can see
Of course, you have no idea that your life is but a dream while you row the boat so gently on
Downstream following the current down to the sea, for the love of might, y’all wake up, son.

Pricking the unholy ne’er-do-wells, provided by welfare for loose mothers and daughters
You know and I know that liars will disagree only ‘cause they’ve no choice but to defend chit
If you comprehend aches & pains of waking life, aware that no pain means y’all are mothers
RIP then but not a moment before on hard roads up the middle, daddio, nearly all brothers.

Rumors and the propaganda that emerge from the sewers & hall odor of colleges of stank
By the way, bye the by or by the buy, in any case the philosopher’s stone has precedence
You don’t know what nobody else knows, join the club, it’s everybody not dead yet, it’s us
Conditionally, that you’re waiting for the End of Life to come, no pain or gain, no free rents.

Fools and their parents who conceived them from literal scratch, all will meet here or below
Up above the mountaintops, only 8 miles high above the fertile ground of being in the flow
There’s some “thing” to know about, it’s not a secret, but it’s ignored, yet it’s embedded on
My tattoos and scars all over from It, head to toe, bruised, stitched, healed like a freshman.

I got the jolly roger and the knives all sharp as the day they dropped from the blacksmith
No question of the poke, slice, cut and chop features of the thing as it was meant to be
Just like everything else in the cosmic reality we’ve all agreed upon as normal, it’s all dead
Don’t shoot the messenger because the keyboard is too hot to handle, get over it, he said.

If you can stay locked into the proximity of the perimeter, you’ll be focused here, now
Nothing is more important than knowing it all before your death, accept wisdom, blow
All in your head or a plethora outside your mental perception, either way it’s A Thing
Naming it with a sound everyone agrees upon as a reference to the identical O-ring.

My father is now in heaven with my mother; have injected the venom into my origin egg
No responsibility or obligation for the intentional conception, anticlimactic Irish Jig
On the plane, below or above it all, in every case, it ain’t there when you’re gone away
Don’t take my word for it, you’ll see & when you do, don’t worry about it at all that day.

There are unfortunate consequences for living without arranging your own after death
Like afterbirth, it must be consumed by the host & shared to the ether of the minions
I can’t joke, I kid you not, as an old amigo used to retort to an unbelievable kit of scat
You know fear, your parents abandoned you after the teens, crashed into it, God spat.

Fault and obligation are a display of Life on Earth, an accident of a god being bored
Gravity and centrifugal force due to a counter-revolutionary orbit about a white glow
That’s ALL folks and no offense to the clergy and ministers of the blind faith of a Lord
Of rings or of a cluster of minions, a Lord of something or other, all above and below.

Come on and reach out to touch me, just like every other human being, it’s skin & bone
Nothing more or less than a container for the heart pumping the blood, it’s in a rune
From papa’s liturgy onto a finish line, nothing’s more important than wisdom, ain’t so bad
Before Earth was created from a Big Bang, there was this here & that there, thanks, dad!

When I disrespected this world, my father overruled, respect for all there is, God’s concept
Deep spirit understanding of what the Unknown is & deeper than human language, accept
What #Disclosure means exactly, are the ones who came before us returning to the roost
If not, what the hell is up with the imagination, making fiction your mother drillin’ truth.

In gold we trust, the dead, wise-guys from all continents left a legacy of soul power trees
Written on the cave-walls both above and below the ocean water, axis shifts 15 degrees
Survivors of the natural holocausts & overall neglect of the civilized folk, we caused it, a lot
Elected or not, whether POTUS or dictator-czar of, by and for the people, it’s all we all got.

Coming in loud and clear at the ending, the finale when the curtains begin to close tight
Ready though for a final bow and an encore of unexpected joy to the world, ad infinitum
Happiness walking down the street, all it takes is the intent and ability to fend off scum
You know scum will come, like it or not, souls roam for mischief & envy, I say “I’ll fight!”

If I can recall a few of the gems & tidbits of wisdom from my father, I shall share ‘em all
“Did you do your homework, Richie?” “Yeah, pop, I got a final tomorrow.” “Good boy!”
Smacked me NEVER; he was the best man on Earth I’ve ever met, there were many yet
He was indeed The Best Man, paid my way in gold & silver to get here & now, all on a bet.

Winning is everything, it’s all there is because losing isn’t an option for the survivor of It
Heavens’ dogs and planets’ gods, ruptured the fabric of Time’s Past, morphed to hear it
Songs with melodies and beats to hear in our heads as if we’re hooked up to orchestras
Allowing happiness to elevate to a climax without intent, an orgasm without an egg fuss.

You know, and I know that all she really wants to do is dance, like she does, with a backbeat
She knows the way of the shake, rattle & roll, just dance like there ain’t no tomorrow, yeah
There might not be a tomorrow, you gotta get down when you’ve got the groove on afoot
Phineas Bluster was his name, all you need to know is he’s a dummy, nothing like @Groot.

In general, and in particular, this isn’t the 1st time I got to Earth & forgot life was accidental
Keep your eyes peeled, so to speak; if you’re mute & deaf, use the blinded eyes in your head
God linked you to the matrix, like it or not, you have no free will in that respect, that’s Killer
Meaning the very best that could have happened, advantage & opportunity yields the filler.

What I am or what? You just need a bottle of wine & flush cash for some thrills, it’s so funny
Bringing home the Butternut bread as it’s always been since day 1 as I broke out the bunny
Playboy or priest, nobody could tell from all faces that changed with haircuts, until the zoos
Never stop growing like fingernails on a corpse, coffin, woke after a while, Howard Hughes.

Pray that there’s no God, no gods who left this created lump of mud to the dogs, we’re them
No need to look at your reflection, you are who you feel like you are, grab the old mojo too
Up for grabs, telling stories that may or not be true, nobody calls the bluffs, it’s alright now
Video in your recollection, fell in love & fell out when it died, torpedo is stuck in the aft bow.

by
r j j stephan i
c. Dimanche, July 5th MMXXVI Anno Domini 111 PMPT

{ Ripped out cosmic vibes’ link https://www.amazon.com/s?k=richard+joseph+stephan+ghosted+chimera+signal&i=stripbooks&rh=n%3A283155%2Cp_n_feature_browse-bin%3A2656020011&dc&ds=v1%3AgjkLOS6yWRxK51FGlzwuKK2f%2BvZMjqXWPtUMlj20sMA&crid=3PQYMDRVPPIL0&qid=1783288763&rnid=618072011&sprefix=richard+joseph+stephan+ghosted+chimera+signal%2Cstripbooks%2C192&ref=sr_nr_p_n_feature_browse-bin_1  }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?

SHOUT OUT TO PABLO PICASSO