#SurfingBigKahunasOnLINE #ShotsFiredInTheDarkness @PulitzerPrizeNominee P O W E R (?) "IF THE SURF'S UP, I'M HANGIN' TEN WIPEOUTS" #NeonMoon @BrooksAndDunne @Don_Henley #LastWorthlessEveningYoullHaveToSpend

IF THE SURF’S UP,
 I’M HANGIN’ TEN WIPEOUTS

* * * *

One mere false move and you become extinct, it ain’t our fault, it is your own free will

Backbone got slipped and y’all forgot your mojo left your 208 bones unfractured still

If you all didn’t walk forward and backward, you’d develop a faux inferiority complex

Slippin’ into darkness on the deck got my tailbone tweaked, rescue me, all pain sucks.

Fully faded to hot black with the whole generation of a century, 1900’s annihilated to Void

Simply, full complexity of histrionics and recorded perfectly, high fidelity IQ of an android

I super washed my dirty laundry before you got here, bleached whites & color never died

Bonehead skull above crossed leg bones grew your hair long, hippy got schooled, they lied.

Analogous ghosts haunt digital souls, nowhere to go, skip some between memory & myth

Neon flea-flickers spill top secrets across the shoreline, sand- coded dreams lost undertow

Days dissolve into cassette tapes unspooled in soundtracks for the edge of new punk kid

Riptide of progress & nostalgia, kids ridin’ breakers of what was, clutching pearls in a skid.

I pray you’re right, the next swell will carry us somewhere we still recognize, no rock sand

Bury your face up above the Earth’s surface, launch on a spacecraft before luck depletes it

Nobody has ever survived the state of being a mortal animal on Earth, not even a woman

Which would have happened the next day after the genome dropped, stop & look my man.

Undo nothing because it’s impossible to succeed, Nothing feels as nothing else in the cosmos

Nauseous due to the beast’s need to get behind the cart rather than lead the dumb as bolts

Crystal clear that you are the fancy pants on your side of town, blue jeans & denim like sons

Think then act advisory or expire as an atom of fission eating a subatomic god particulation.

Knobs control the all too humane ape-like perpetuation of the gravitational collapse of Zen

Not taught by teachers because it’s unknown to them, naïve mothers raising kids in the Den

All of what happens above and below the Earth’s ashen boulders & pebbles, It’s A Wash Wish

Experimental intent, the day an animal mutated from a plant, DNA/RNA in a glass petri dish.

Random chaos within boundaries of the whole shebang, order of things flows as river to sea

Check your six at the back door, front door is locked tight & superglued shut to keep out, Me

Why that is important is because I don’t keep secret Truths to myself, I tell everybody to die

There’s no meaning to living any life if there’s nothing but Void after being alive, boldfaced lie.

What in Hades are we humans, food no animal eats, just burnt & buried death do us part it all

Only you know as I know and if you don’t, you will discover sooner or later, Life is a ton of fun

Trust me about your Last Rights, Self you are, you realize that DNA dies, ghosts have no RNA

One day before conception, Nothing, now decades hence, one huff before death, #woke DNA.

This can’t be all there is, like the song sang by @BrooksAndDunne, this is a place Space, Lost

You and I’ve been North, South, East & West, seven continents & island volcano lava magma

Pirates and navies sailed and landed approximately right there where you are, sitting so pretty

Gave up no valor since it couldn’t be stolen clothes & medals, all for One & One for all to see.

Things and places where all things come and go to and fro, the whole shebang is inside of US

Your mommy & daddy, whether they raised you from birth or not, they created your soul l’il

So tiny it couldn’t be plagued by the permutations of the Big Bang creation, or is it? Big OMG

High probability of seizure, failure of all Life that depends on air & H2O, a prediction genius?

Play on words or not, the truth of the conclusion of every argument is a leap of faith, I believe

If there were any alternative to continue breathing & functioning as our ancestors, we’d know

There ain’t a UFO in your backyard, your friend’s dreams fade away with time as aliens fix chit

Lottery gamble on the way it’s gonna be, double bet hunch, or it might turn into squat, S#IT.

Caught up with the bumbass while I was starring in a Hollywood movie with a World War of It

Keeping what can’t be kept is not only Evil but also, it’ll annihilate the only Good leftover chit

Inside of your head, spilled wine leaves of the grape squeezed out of the seeds of ol’ Johnny

Apple grew out branches, I didn’t spill the wine, I didn’t bite the apple, now stop it God! Si??

I’m innocent of the crime, trust me, I swear on a stack of bibles, but I don’t know why, I swear

Could I be deceived at all like all the dead people who used to be alive on Earth, all right here

Hard line, it’ll be a Hard Day’s Night every day until your last one, happiness’ fleeting chimera

Makes you smile and be happy to know and love, parent, sibling, friend & especially enemy.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Samedhi, August 23rd MMXXV Anno Domini @ 1010 AMPST

{ Drafted while jammin’ to #ElectricLightOrchestra #DontBringMeDownNUTS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/FuiMQPc5aKA?si=t_LD8ez7SwDIYl-i }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?

@CoffinCorner Hangtown to Coloma, California #FromTheSeaToTheStratosphere #SupraSubStacked #CaseyKasemSPECIALhappyEnding #FLOsnips #BedBathAndBeyondNewsomeLosesome

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 20^th 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

@Somewhere #OnABeach #LittleGossipRuinsYoWholeDay #BootsNeedKnockin' #PlaySomethingCountry @EVERLAST #ImCominHomeToYouGirl I want my @Nickelback #PuddleOfMud

ALL THINGS

 ROLL DOWNHILL, SYSYPHUS IS ROLLIN’ UPHILL

Gods who passed stones through the creations kidneys didn’t remain the same game

Nobody hunted the gods any longer, the caves got buried in earthquakes, paper burnt

Memories that survivors could remember was passed on by word-of-mouth, no choice

Free or indentured by the boss of the first to come & first to be served as a master voice.

Time was never on a watch, a clock, an hourglass or a sundial of shadow pointing, an illusion

Days spin to nights due to planetary revolution & orbital ellipse 180 + miles around God’s Sun

Assuming atheists know any more than the cloak & dagger blind faith believers, priest to pope

Momentary duration from thought to illusion, after you’re born or before you’re woke doped.

Lapsed the memory of the candle burning, thought was thinking on the fly in the stark dark

Not my free choice, I am a victim of circumstance just like the rest of the all too human larks

Ready to fly away with wings once the final crack at heart beating ceases to be, you and me

Parades and processions for the end of the sniffing & snorting the gas in and out, not to be.

Fine at the same time that it ain’t alright, I’m missin’ the squares themselves, power of family

Eyes’ pupils dotted with the light of the golden dawn, answering perennial questions for free

No need for a dissertation to be written down or orally spoken on a colloquium philosophia T

Means to the Ends follow a straight line, Life as we know it until we don’t, rigor mortis to be.

Between the lines which were originally a figment of the imagination with nothing better to do

Teachers locked in exams & pop quizzes before the semester began, A students ruled the roost

Bloody or just leaking sewer liquid, foul water and rancid refuse from who knows what ol’ fool

Laid it all down, it flowed downhill to the bottom-feeders who never sleep, infinity payin’ dues.

Win what I won with dubious integrity, didn’t catch me countin’ cards in Vegas or Reno, my gold

You know the drill, play the game & cheat ourselves before the repentance and reward, I’m old

You know the same ol’ song, plays a million times a day, a million people die every day, all souls

Neverland wasn’t an option before overdue death, it comes post-mortem, brain-dead arseholes.

Shine my shoes or not, they might be sneakers or combat boots, hush puppies soft, I’ll step it up

Songs written for the feeling I get when the lights fall into spectrum, rainbow wavelength droop

Infrared cocktails and shots of ultraviolet rays that only a God could love, out of this world wine

Grapes squeezed the knowledge into wisdom only to be forgotten in a black hole, mama so fine!

Really, the Truth is at the top of the mountain which can only be climbed by Sisyphus’ two feet

No comfortable hiking boots in the day, in fact, barefoot & calloused to avoid the meet & greet

Hate and Love alternate the positive and negative state of being alive, charge of atom, it fired up

Blown to smithereens, banged a sky’s great, wide open, UFO would be shocked, y’all phuq’d up.

There’s a moment in every minute when you can either score or lose it all in a crash and burn it

Playing games and working the crowd for tips & stipend by hour, month or year, full of the #Chit

Then y’all retire and the sun goes down, losing teeth one at a time, soul is clear of an original sin

I am in and out just like always, it’s gonna all implode eventually, not my creation, right cousin?

I’m fine not being able to high five or slip anyone some skin, shake hands, slap Dap but it’s OK

Skynyrd and ZZTop hittin’ the Kenwood amp & Bose 901 speakers, turned up Hillbilly Deluxe so

I could hear every thought, every word of the cowboys, playin’ the burnt rubber & doin’ a blow

Nice to be alive, as long as you ain’t too high or drunk, long gone, fine, I’m in for the long play.

Dream is over once you’re woke, awake or awakened is the ultimate best, it’s like fishin’ Trout

They come & go, before & after dark, dusk or dawn makes no difference with right bait no doubt

It goes up & down, my friend caught all the fish, he put oil magic on his bait, I didn’t, I got Jack

Meaning nothing but cheating is everything to the cheaters, the cheated are just way outback.

Privates are publics and vice versa, up and down, in and out, all around the circle forever days

Never ending until eyes close & you see nothing at all except what the dead see forever phase

Drink the spirits, keep ‘em down the hatch or they’ll regurgitate en masse, just because y’all can

Hair of the dog, nevermore, a black raven seemed to squeak post 3 Margaritas, I was shot, man!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Vendredi, August 1st MMXXV Anno Domini @ 1010 PMPST

{ Trippin’ with or without you, jammin’ this out of my craw while jammin’ to this excellent song, #SomthinAboutATruck by https://youtu.be/3YfNFR6gh2E?si=4q2TZuViK75VZu0p }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?

#AllAlone #OhWell #GodsDead, God Was Always Dead, God Dam S#IT #PilesOfSmilesForMiles #SoWhat? #PullTheGodAmTriggers @ACDC #LaFlaca @Carlos_Santana #RunTheTableBilliards @ChicagoTheBand #GoodyGoody

POCKETS EMPTY,

 zero Clearance leeway

Take my word for it or not, there is nothing at the end of the forks in the roads except a Void

This is no criminal enterprise, yet it appears that it’s run by an unfriendly force of geek nerds

Be that as it may, ain’t no time for sergeants and generals, it’s all for One & One for all of it

We got to Earth accidentally, ask you mamas, now only God knows you’ll twit a tweet skit.

Shut down your radar so you don’t know that the End is incoming, not just you but all dirt

It’s not from Outerspace or another planet or solar system in the galaxy, us in a black hole

Disturbing it is, coming to fruition without a clue about the reason why Life exists, a Squirt

From a clueless distributor of rhyme & reason, devoid of both in essence of a sacred LOL.

Buying everything that’s for sale to resell at a profit when the supplies run out of holy Hells

High or low, underground preferred to recover the stolen goods from the ugly and the bads

Known or unknown, the rules and regulations remain sacrosanct, Live & Let Live, nutshells

Grain of the Truth as we know it, conceived, born, programmed to seek all narrow way fads.

Grime spins around, wobbles around, orbits around, runs amok around the solar plexi orbit

Who, what, where & why are the preemptory reflexes at the Origin’s Big Bang, disintegrated

No recollection of preconception either as a sperm or an egg, nor a fetus in an RNA scat pit

Look ‘round 360 degrees from where you sit & lie to me, now and then before y’all are dead.

Zippity Do Dah, Zippity Ehhhhhh, my oh my oh what a wonderful day, plenty of sunshine

Ol’ Jiminy Cricket’s rant when he rocked & rolled cartoons of my youth, drunk Disney wine

No way to stop it, nothing else was on but the News, old news remixed for the deception

Hurry away from the place in Space you inhabit, to avoid death by fear of being rat’s skin.

Beer, wine and spirits of every style cooked in a still or alcohol industrial disease racket

Used to be run by the mafia underground, then Jack Daniels & Seagram stole the show

Mr Bigstuff, who do you think you are, what would your mama say about her egg’s grow

It’s now for me to say, for me to know & for you to find out, it’s all there in the open glow.

Gone either with the wind or buried deep as shovels dig, maybe sunk to Davy Jones’ crib

Way down near the bottom silt that coats the core, too hot to handle, chilled by a wet face

A cooler star, Earth will reignite and return to it’s former glory, the sun of God, Adam’s rib

Kids the begotten daughters and mothers of the species’ genome, RNA/DNA panty lace.

Bob your head, duck your head down when the Time comes to snag one last gasp of O2

Rigor mortis and the stench of rotten, digestion and bacteria ingestion, hidden in the blue

Notes blown, air tubes, pluck anima sinews-strings, beat wood on stretched skin & metal

That’s all the melody, the rhythm and the beats to the payoff, end of the gig’s foot pedal.

Apes eating grapes grown in the vineyards, before the wrath comes with the winter’s Fall

From above the atmosphere, between asteroids & galactic atoms in gravitational collapse

Pits inside of the fruits are required to be here at all, where, why or how & just let it lapse

To the dead and yet to be born, it’s a moot point, dead ghosts don’t survive so have a ball.

Browbeaten before conception, karma an illusion of fools who don’t know God is dead

As above, so below, the concept of Creator of Everything is a fiction of the Pope’s head

Back in the day, hundreds of years ago, maybe millennia ago, we were all saints who die

Those who terminated God’s RNA line of sight, survived in a Tizzy fit, as low as most high.

Buying Time in the by-and-by may not be the best thing to do, nobody knows & I can’t tell

If you die and there’s nothing after life, who gives a hoot, Freddy may have nailed it in Hell

A nihilist way for the amigas and amigos of the one spouting efficacious comprehension

Of human & vermin walks of life, all things animated become stone silent in Time’s den.

Blood bleeds, souls have no skin in the game, a concept to screw your nuts into bolts

You nailed it before, winning and losing just the ending of the games’ high-stake revolts

Before you breathed the gas and after you can’t suck wind any longer, gotta pay the fees

World of Rich and Poor, pole to pole, around the equator, every dry spot between seas.

Wrecks below the sea, floated for a minute, displaced the gas of Hydrogen & Oxygen

Made it all cherry wine that no human can resist, it’s the blood flowing from God’s sun

Above my head, below my feet, it’s happened before & it will again, I’ll come & I’ll go on

To perfection of a smile on the Divine Face, like my mother Earth, she said, It Is Done!

Hot junk yard housing the junkies & Scotland yard housing the Bobbies or sheriff of Nots

In and out of the hot matrix mix, original sinners in a maelstrom of original dashes in dots

Better than you hoped, not as good as you wanted it to be, yet here you’re all right on top

Of piles of smiles and trials ancestors leftover in the safe, open amen, mankind is a flop!

Print the smiles for the camera, false faces’ bones that hide the Truth which ain’t so much

Just the facts man, nothing but the facts, Truth, I can handle the Truth, what about you fool?

Whether or not you can, here’s the truth for you in any case, you’re no place in Space, a Dot

Nothing more nor less, got bent by your folks, you’ll die & it’ll come back to haunt you too.

Highway ain’t movin’ for anybody, you got to hit that road to move & there’s no free choice

Move this animation or just be underground, unmoved mover woke up from a surreal place

Always sliding safe into home, hitting baseballs like there’s no tomorrow, 80 homer season

Just once, I struck out on a tip-foul, yet it was a knuckleball I could’ve hit to Folsom prison.

Saving face because I don’t appreciate embarrassment of the kinfolk and loves of my life

Hence, I’ve erased my historical record of ever being here & now, name & number deleted

Hit the ground running & hitch a ride on a Tesla to the moon and back, 186,000 miles 1-way

Back before you’re mother knew you were gone, on a UFO from midnight to Four, look away.

Offense taken, without retaliation, I accept the opinion you’ve gleaned from deception eyes

Astigmatic, far or near-sighted and nearly blind as a bat without radar, the skies full of pies

Cherry or lemon méringue or a Key Lime pie in my refrigerator to mix with my café con leche

Got woke, awakened, appeared I knew nothing more than uncertainty, my big Marlin catch.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Dimanche, June 1st MMXXV Anno Domini

{Drafted while jammin’ to @SteelyDan #Aja (side B) on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/nWi_31DWMV0?si=meaWrKjMvJ9G463h)

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?

Discovering Miles Davis Live

A Journey Into the Magic of Jazz

Miles Davis, the legendary figure of jazz, is synonymous with innovation, creativity, and unparalleled artistry. To experience his music live is to step into an extraordinary realm where sound meets soul, and improvisation becomes a language in itself. For those lucky enough to have witnessed Miles Davis live in his prime, the memories are etched forever, but for the many who explore his recordings and performances today, it is an unexpected discovery of genius.

The Genius of Miles Davis

Miles Davis was not merely a musician; he was a revolutionary. His ability to reinvent himself and jazz as a genre is unparalleled. From his early explorations of bebop to the birth of cool jazz, from modal jazz to fusion, Miles consistently pushed boundaries. His live performances were a testament to his adaptability and brilliance, showcasing how he could take an audience on a captivating journey, often marked by spontaneity and raw emotion.

The Energy of Live Performances

Listening to a studio recording by Miles Davis is one thing, but experiencing his live performances is an entirely different affair. His concerts were not scripted; they were fluid, unpredictable, and alive. Miles had the uncanny ability to create a dialogue with his band and his audience. His trumpet, often described as an extension of his spirit, would pierce through the air, leaving listeners in awe of its intensity and melancholy.

The interplay between Miles and his band members, whether it was John Coltrane, Herbie Hancock, or Wayne Shorter, was nothing short of magical. Each musician brought their unique voice to the stage, but under Miles' direction, their contributions often merged into a singular, transcendent experience. This energy is palpable in recordings of live performances such as "Live at the Plugged Nickel," "Miles at the Fillmore," and "Live in Europe 1967."

Iconic Live Albums

Miles Davis has left behind a treasure trove of live recordings that continue to inspire and amaze. These albums are windows into the dynamic atmosphere of his concerts:

"Live at the Plugged Nickel"

Recorded in 1965, this performance showcases Miles at his modal jazz peak, alongside his second great quintet. The session is renowned for its daring improvisations and rhythmic complexity, making it a classic among jazz enthusiasts.

"Miles at the Fillmore"

In 1970, Miles introduced his audience to jazz fusion, blending rock, funk, and jazz in ways that were groundbreaking. This live album captures the electrifying energy of that era, highlighting Miles' willingness to explore new territories.

"Live in Europe 1967"

Part of "The Bootleg Series," this recording brings together Miles and his quintet during a European tour, delivering performances marked by brilliance and unparalleled artistry.

Rediscovering Miles Davis Today

For modern audiences, discovering Miles Davis live is often an act of unearthing the past. Digital platforms and remastered recordings have made his live performances more accessible than ever, allowing new generations to immerse themselves in his genius. Documentaries, vinyl reissues, and performances by contemporary artists influenced by Miles Davis ensure that his legacy remains alive.

The Impact of Miles Davis Live

The power of Miles Davis' live performances lay not only in his technical mastery but in the emotions he conveyed. His ability to innovate while remaining deeply connected to the roots of jazz made him a beacon of creativity. As listeners discover his live performances, they often find themselves inspired not just by the music but by the courage to explore, improvise, and create.

Conclusion

Discovering Miles Davis live is like stepping into a time machine where music transcends boundaries. It is a glimpse into the mind of a true genius who redefined jazz and the possibilities of sound. For fans old and new, Miles Davis live is not just a musical experience—it is an unforgettable journey that continues to resonate across generations.