#DontSwallow #JustDont #CarlosCastenada #JourneyToIxtland #KneeJerkResponse #JeffDunham

A FIN WILL FETCH A DOUBLE SAWBUCK

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

If I haven’t told you this before, it means that I thought you’d think I was cuckoo crazy, a conman
So, then even if you don’t love me anymore, I yearn for the tenderness I can never get from a fan
I thought about everything you’ve ever said about everything, I conclude you’ve come & be gone
Before the blink of an eye, an overnight scatter of things that don’t matter all come together, son.

Dancin’ to the rock and roll or waltzing between polkas and foxtrots, got an Astaire look-a-like on
Feared no spins or jumps, swung around and around until the partner quit tryin’ to have some fun
Hustled for the headliner’s billing, star of the show payday, people came & now they’re all gone
I put it behind me as you should too, before it all eats you up inside, forgiveness is my ring tone.

Alumni of my alma mater increase the minds’ eyes’ killer instinct insight into the end game, buster
Nothing personal, just a comprehensive, objective analysis of every bit of suave I can ever muster
Hearts, minds & rubber souls gave it all & then some, at the alpha-omega, hind end of Maria & Juan
The Don Juan of Monterey Bay, south to Big Sur’s waves of the ghost surfer, an alien of the cosmos.

During the typhoon of 2025 I saw the light of having nothing but bad luck all your life, no surprises
That’s the gift I was expecting from my dead kin, if there was any chance for help from above below
Scat melody at any octave to get the combination to a secret combo, unlock the chit of a good fight
No disrespect to anyone alive or yet to be born but you all will die for Nothing, blinded by the light.

Sweeping thoughts that fell above the underground, bodies died, boys, girls, women, all too humane
From the A-bombs yes, the weapons of mass destruction, still here after all these years, ready to go
It ain’t my trip man, my mother & father taught me morality and ethics, I know the rights & wrong
Friends & friendly enemies are all the useful idiots, singin’ to themselves & all homo erectus’ songs.

Simple to be complex for the idiots & morons to conclude with induced deductions, a high assumption
Of the mighty mice who escape the trap of injured pride in imaginary thought that only godsons die
Oh, come on man, the Truth ain’t ever false, begin with proposition’s logic, jump to invalid conclusions
Think, either a seed or an egg, random collision in space, evolution from mitotic One who got too high.

There are a few things in life you shouldn’t pass on, I found all few of them, I passed with high chi
Yet there was something about that feeling of danger I missed, always being safe & sound old me
Hey man, I can’t change, I’m too damn old to change the heart of these matters, I got wing fliers
I’m clear & ready to roll to immortal finality, underground, into the stars from the smokey fires.

Even if y’all don’t love me anymore, it’s no big deal, the heart of the matter is anger eats hearts
So love and never hate is my only advice, from one who did both and love was better than pharts
From the seeds and stems that you don’t need, the flowers bloom and the leaf chlorophyll bites
Sight and sounds of the things in front of your face mutate into the experiment of TNT dynamite.

Middle of the road, narrow path as it is cannot allow anything far left or far right, it’s survival skill
In the haste to be successful, I forgot I was gonna die, all the while attending wakes and a funeral
Last but not least, even orphans die & no kin comes to their end except angels who got a bit funny
Earth apparently spins and wobbles in a perpetual, immovable place around the star called Sonny.

Mama mia & your own mother were both ilk of the same cloth, nobody told ‘em the Truth about Life
Perpetually meaninglessness as a reward for obedience to the law of the garden’s Tree of Evil strife
Thanks to the creator of the universe of galaxies that run amuck during my journey to Ixilan & Cielo
Tripped over the line’s twilight zone and what was became compressed & turned into a fatal blow.

Life with or without the air to breathe is all there is, you can’t Live without a body, ain’t no soul
Nothing rises from the dead, no Lazarus wasn’t an actual man alive on Earth, it’s a myth of a fool
Whomever waits to die before you get the value of Life on Earth, misses the mark, I ain’t the one
You’ll get lucky if you read this Truth, glad you found out before it was too late, love you my Son!

by
r j j stephan, i

c.  Samedhi 2-24-2024 Anno Domini @ 333 PMMST

{ Drafted the #IDEA, the #ThingItself after returning  from the Pacific Ocean, Monterey Bay with my One & Only One while bleeding out the Word to some @DonHenley #TheHeartOfTheMatter link @ https://youtu.be/rRrT37ruAtE }

F I N I S
W.W.A.R.D.?

All In ONE BIG BANG Black Hole Dead End Zone Le Claire Avenue & Chicago Boulevard #GuildOfMorons

BORN MY DADDY’S GODSON

save  our ship

-----------------------------------

Feeling a jive-ass tingle before the flight or fight, drunk on jiggers’ Schnapps 40 shots
Kidding about nothing anymore, the Life used to be an inside joke on the idiot robots
Now, we’re the early birds who caught the worms & used them to snag the dead fish
In search of a miraculous end, you get what you see, it’s all you put in the deep dish.

Now then, my papa’s son was just the one the job called for, need 5 bucks for gas
Pops made the loan I never repaid, now and then, I tend bar & shock the monkey
Periods bleeding in and out of the eras and millennia as if it means more than nil
Cause and effects comin’ out of nowhere, black hole Singularity malfunction shill.

All I am, is what y’all are, paid or in arrears to the bottom line, cracked up to the nuts
Just you & me workin’ into the second best, next to the one and only, powers that be
Tapes rollin’ man, you’re gonna squeeze the three minutes into 3 & a half out the door
I don’t know WTF you mean, I scooted, crawled, climbed the curtains, fell upon a floor.

Sometimes, you pull #GovtMule roamin’ dirty territory, pullin’ black sheep wool tides
Out of the pockets of your jeans and into my own, melodious hyper-percussion & steel
Drunk what the drinkin’ kiddies drank, lost all my silver and gold in the casino darkness
Bag full of silver and gold, ready to transfer the load to the empty, deep pockets of This.

Yeah, you know what I’m talkin’ about, it’s always too early when it’s too late, man oh man
All of y’all know exactly where I’m comin’ from, out of the blue into the black & white land
Nothing is colored TV, colored people and colored plants and colored animals, all colored so
On the run or just hidin’ out with all of my stuff so nobody knows where to get it, all @J-lo’s.

Fly girl in the middle of nowhere just steppin’ the heels and toes, knockin’ the knees & heads
Creating something out of nothing perceivable, a miracle egg in the womb of species’ ‘dreads’
Beans, bullets & Truth’s Bible, Jim Bowie, Davy Crockett & Daniel Boone made this here for us
Cream of a crop you have & share with aliens of planets created for Nothing, black sheep God.

Right of the left, a blunt point of the joint just to the right of the left had corner of the room
Shiftin’ back yo my papa’s son and mama’s sisters’ daughters of the worm-squirming groom
Quartz mushed from the gravitational pull of the star-core, all the Earth has to spin, it’s free
In a wobbling circular jerk of confused tourists just off of the plane, train, plane or model T.

Bent outta shape, meaning something different than getting bent, either way all acute angles
In a triangular square, hexagonal-shaped lines surround absolutely nothing, Gig full of whirls
Of being this 208-bone bag, trained by survivors of the strongest bodies to ever be, I’m at One
Always with me, always with you, the beats and rhythm frees the rhyme stream of pretty girls.

Sunk deep down into the drink, One sea at some point allows no land to be seen, Zero’s sign
Keeper of secrets, you’ve got three minutes and some chump change to create the overprice
Of the mice and the other vermin, you can wait for the trash and garbage to blow in the wine
To get inebriated like the drunken fools who fouled up the system of perfection, rolled 2 dice.

We moved then we died and bumped skull on the blacktop, layin’ down the chopper to gods
Wasn’t my intention to meet the maker of tar and feathers, mean and nasty to the divine buds
Smoked ‘em all one at a time as if there was no tomorrow or even yesterday, forgot about it all
Moods blue, turnin’ ultraviolet to muddy black grit-grime, superfluous Adam & Eve had a bawl.

Historical hysteria completes the circle of fools pretending to know what it is, ignoring the Jizz
Without which nobody comes or goes, it’s all about the fortune of being Godzilla’s daddio whiz
Made of celluloid, looking mean & ugly, a dream within a dream’s fake terror, tattoo papa’s son
You know black sheep have bags of silver & gold, a hole in the pocket lets the dead git begone.

Margin between the mule kickin’ in the stall & the glue factory meltdown, life’s one long spat
Peace with wind blowin’ your smile into the back of your skull, apes steal one another’s chit
You need backup if you’re not a black-belt martial artist with a sheriff’s badge pinned upon it
Irish or not, lucky to be here & now, huff & puff another skin-scratch of red & blue ink, lips tat.

by
r j j stephan, i
c. Dimanche, 2-18-2024 Anno Domini @ 911 AMPST
{ Common Ground mint jammin’ to @GovtMule in an infinite loop of #JustGotPaid on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/cFLhMCiI4_w?si=-LgYKrHDI9pDTvJD }
F I N I S
W.W.A.R.D.?

#DontTouchTheEffingLabels #CurbYourFakeEnthusiasm #NotTheIdiot #NotTheMoron

MY MARIA’S BLUES BETWEEn a @GovtMule team  

I got something to say before I leave your pad, don’t take it personally tiny sin
You must take one moment to reflect upon the cherry wine you been chuggin’
There’s only one way to rock & I believe you’ve discovered deep down uptown
Late at night and early in the morning, all of my peace of mind got mega-blown.

Skies are blue or grey, only to the landlubber but to the sailor at sea, starless
Better to raise the bet than to call the high hand showing, strategic lips’ word
Ready to bring inertia to your fingertips, moving heaven to hell but in reverse
Not much more than that, you’re lonely in disguise or naked as a system jaybird.

So sorry to be the bearer of evil news directly from the associated press circa now
Sunshine is the star burning out from internal combustion & prelude to collapse Indo
On the one cool hand workin’ the man’s farms for the blood, sweat & tears of Fido
My dog is god spelled backwards, thought the blasphemous act was quite a super-show.

by

r j j stephan, I

c.  Samedhi, February 17th MMXXIV A.D. @ 911 AMPST

{ A GIFT OF RIF-RAF drafted while jammin’ to @GovtMule #DarkSideOfTheMULE link @ https://youtu.be/38z-xuYhGnA   WE saw LIVE LAST NIGHT AT THE CASINO! }

I T –IS - F IN I S

W.W.A.R.D.?

SUPERBOWL SUNDAY #LVIII #58 #MakinBelieveLiesAreTheTruth #BetMe #LetUSroll #BADbrim #HipHats #CapsNoPops #KnowYouAreALoser

VOLUME OF A PROLATE SPHEROID IS:

 ( loser ) 

+y2 / a2

Even on super Sunday in the springtime, you can smell the pigskin bleedin' in ice turf beneath
I know what you know, it’s a finite game with an end in sight, no allowance for a sudden death
Touchdown after touchdown, safety after safety, kickoff after extra points ad infinitum, it’s a go
With no time left on the game clock, it’s less than a second left & the score is tied zero to zero.

Six for the touchdown, three for the field goal, two for the safety & one for the point after TD
Hips get hit from the front, back & sides, above a pile & deep below the late hits ref’s whistle us
Toots out of the air squeezed through a tiny whirlwind emptiness, the phase of a blown penalty
High or low hits count on the quarterback and the penalty to a tackler is five, ten or fifty minus.

Regular bowl games are one hundred yards of theoretical, prolate spheroids’ critical race theory
Kick the ball, throw the ball, hand-off the ball, run with and fumble the ball, it’s two for a safety
Mothers died bearing the boys who played games, some lived & got a new house on the blocks
Either way, we get one super Sunday every year, today’s the day, it’s on from zero to sixty rocks.

You had what it took to get to the money game, high school, through college & infinite practice
Professional because paid with gold and a plethora of rewards for beating the opponent’s dice
It’s a roller-coaster from September to January & then it’s on, the big Super game of man-kinder
Points more than the other gets a double ‘U’ (W) less points gives you the honor, you’re a Loser.

Find out the secret and then forget about the whole thing, as if you’ve begun again from scratch
Nobody knows you or cares about you, you’re an orphan without siblings, offspring or any mate
You’ll go home to the heavens in a metal-wooden box, just a porcelain urn, Form of God’s farce
Bottom’s up online, you’re gone & it’s like it was before conception, Dark & deep up one’s arse.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. Dimanche, February 11th, 2024 Anno Domini @ 333 PMPST #SuperBowl2024
{ Blown out of my keister this am on #SuperbowlSunday jammin’ to surprises at https://youtu.be/D2E7ahH8zts?si=SJyq8P9NgUwTACci }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?