#JamgalayaCoffeesFine #FiletGumboInTheCatecombs #PapaLovesPOTUS

PHILOSOPHER STONES,

BENJAMINS & MYSTIC PIZZA

/\/\/\/\/\

For every time you breathe in and out of your lungs, the world has spun around

A counter-clockwise freeze-frame only mothers may love, a mirage-image of Adam

Kidding you half the time and the other half, serious as a random nose-bleed flow

History & Science to get you to know it all, but you find you know nothing though.

Pressed the grapes into wine, the way is perfect, or the way is vinegar, finger cross

Gulp or sip, it all goes to the spirit that awaits the buzz; the thing is, that is the boss

No singer on a stage but the vine he drank when he wrote the song, a dark side pit

Mindful or not, it’s movin’, and we’re movin’ until the end, it’ll come, it’s bull s#it.

This world will swallow you down to the bottom of the beer barrel, long empty

Spirits in the night flow in and out of the ether, back & forth through the bones

Score is even-steven at zero to zero, on the way from over here to out yonder

Space and Time wither behind your own rigor mortis, don’t shoot a messenger.

Played as well as the piece could be strummed from riff to riff, it’s a peculiar beat

Notes high C and D diminished for whatever the sevenths will allow, a minor feat

Laughing early & when it’s too late, that’s what it’s always been about since day 1

Crowds and the lonely Singularity are the whole shebang & it’s about to be a sun.

What you're buying is anything I’m selling and I ain’t selling a thing, I’m sellin’ Nothing

Everything from pole to pole around the world, coast to continental coasts on a fling

Hills climbed, underwater caves floored with darkness lighting up where we drop tears

Centerfold in the middle of nowhere, in a Milky Way or a Snickers, Three Musketeers.

Pink or invisible, clear blacklight glowing the paint in the poster, orange, red & green

Sky blue and black in a felt mix with the glow-paint, showing off the inner mind’s scene

Rolled & rocked outside & the inside couldn’t handle the jagged edge more than thrice

Been around The Block a few times, and, well, I had to obfuscate and obliterate it all.

Groovy as the wavy gravy you gulped down with the butter-infused mashed potatoes

Makin’ our hearts and souls sing from the first taste to the last forkful comes & goes

Moving from the back to the front to get a better look at what makes the noise of us

Speakers blare whatever makes it through the cables, do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti & a do.

Certainty is a desire never acquired in full; mere pretenders asserted the failure to launch

Perched on a boulder, casting the fly over the ripples that the current squirted for lunch

Who are you thinking that you are? You are no doubt, not that person; you’re a ghost

Of men and mice, all of the living crawlers, here today & all gone tomorrow, we’re toast.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Vendredi, April XVIIth MMXXVI Anno Domini @ 1717 hours PST

{ Created while jammin’ to @JimiHendrix played @Monterey on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/pSAVDbuJip0 }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?

 

Cornucopiac in #TheGhetto @DonnyHathaway #WaitinOnASunnyDay @Springsteen @Church @BigSmo #GoodOleDays

SUNNY DAY ON THE DARK SIDE’S BIGFOOT PRINTS 

In the name of an absentee father and the son of a motherless daughter, full of hand jive

Knowledge and wisdom escaped anyone who remained illiterate, not reading the beehive

All you had was what they gave you and you gleaned the cream of the crop, always with you

If not you then who would I depend on to help me if I got stuck in a temporary fix, no clue.

It doesn’t matter if you knew yo’ mother & father or any connection to the world’s hung fire

An easy way to cut to the chase involves laying the Truth out on the line for a full discovery

Stick it in your ear, my foot, you say, a manner of displaying civilized disgruntlement to Life

Every day from dawn to dusk, breathe in and out until you don’t get another huff, not a one.

Fine to be dead if you knew it was part of the deal, but you forgot, & it’s OK to be DOA caput

Watch with ears, see with myopia & conclude all arguments with an illogical non-sequitur

What else can a fella do? No more nor less than a female human, I cast not one aspersion

Yet, I’m as ignorant as the day I was born without an ego, just a hunger for logic and reason.

Original sin sounds elegant, an infraction of the universal law of obedience to a lawful order

Hitting the road, I don’t comprehend the value of the procession into the unknown disorder

Kicking yourself as you approach your home, you know it won’t be as easy as it looks, phuq

I say that because that’s the harshest I can be in this mode of expression, don’t even duck.

Plasma blackout fills the Void with a series of flashing lights and a bounce atop of the ocean

Formed into a shape that accommodates a spark that animates skin & bone in a poetic notion

Harps and harmonicas run the melody of the northern lights, solar cycle XXV cooks metal too

Trying to introduce an intruder into the Void may not be a genius decision, just funding a Sin.

Trying to climb the tower of Babel again & again, you bet you’ll get nowhere fast, a solar flare

Nobody is allowed to abort the mission; a decision to abort has no function, nor is it an option

Neither of us makes any difference in the long run of the order of Nothing or anything at all

On a wing and a prayer, some group decided to take a chance with the wins and losses of Ball.

We all have our own game, guardians bestowed upon fake innocence, stepped up to the plate

Lettin’ the liquid bleed out of our holy orifices between our legs & in our cerebral cortex pate

Listen to me once more & I’ll never forget you’ve entertained the minions as if you were one

Test the state of inventions converged into a unit of protective precision, good to go, my son.

Fly high, stay cooler than the bottom of the sea & annihilate the heated radiation anomalies

Listen and watch for the beginning of the Star Trek and the Star Wars, it will be quite a while

Ballistic re-entry of the UFOs, they FAAFO in my opinion, now it’s a limited failure mode tease

Fly high, come back in one piece, tell us tales of being dead/not dead, we'll be better, at ease!

Hardball played, softball ruined my eye on the golf and tennis ball, she’s got the bags in tow

Imagine, as you can, you’re in a predicament with one way out & you force the threat to go

Wake up in bed, you’re as woke as you were when you fell asleep, a dream in a dream dive

Function of the calculus & trigonometry of the Space & Time continuum is special, relative.

This is a test, the unknown unknown problem is an absolute clusterphuq for the minions too

Nobody will get out alive, the Milky Way doesn’t care because it has no conscience, fight foo

Blind, deaf & unable to articulate sounds never heard, two lips read to mean random ideation

Dogs won’t guide the wisdom to miss obstacles to atomic fission and fusion, originally a sin.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Mardi, 4-7-2026, @ArtemisIICrew T minus 60”

{Drafted while listenin’ to @AremisII LIVE on PBS link @ https://www.youtube.com/live/tueDYAsx7cU?si=v4NZligPPWcaJUIx & during blackouts jammin’ to @DarylsHouse & @TheOJays on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/QYKyglyjtTw?si=FJJ1c8-U1LioLf5t}

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D?

TWENTY SEVEN READS, 27 NOSE BLEEDS, GIRLS PLAY BLUES PURPLE STRATOCASTERS #StiffTheFans #ChargeThemDouble #PUSHERMAN @DanielleNicole @DarylsHousing

SHE GOT DROPPED BY AN IDEOLOGIST

I, y’all were aborted in utero, and I didn’t have a voice to protest and get any justice done

I had a divine right to live, right violated by the gays & lesbians seeking species extinction

It’s their prerogative, yet they’re free to roam the world; they’ll be committing mortal sins

Time moments imagine there is Space between everything; it’s an illusory gift, ala no Spin.

Pioneers movin’ upwind from the stench of refused, recyclable scat humanity excretes all

Nothing remains from the 24/7 ingestion of the dead plants and animal meat digestion pall

Bearing the good, the bad and the ugly all in one set of 208 bones, a form appears ape-like

I never knew why I love to be a pirate on Halloween, apparently, I’ve reincarnated One soul.

Decisions based on deductions from incredible premises, which are at best blinded by light

Reasons that sometimes there’s a rhyme & rhythm to the reason, sometimes, often it chills

Although you’ve earned the rights and have the obligations to fight for your inherited liberty

Some of the anchor babies don’t like the rules of hard work, savings & paying a piper’s bills.

The high bounty on the possession of the spirit inside & outside of your body, stay in control

If you lose it, you’ll lose the liberty, the freedom to roam about on our ground of being whole

Nowhere else to go, ask astronauts, cosmonauts & the dead who used to be souls at-oned

Can’t always get what you want, neither necessary nor sufficient, expect it never, dear son.

Capacity for the Time spent in Space, sharing with the minions who live just to forever die

Through no fault of anyone’s intent, either good, bad or uglier evil remains the source of pi

It’s 3.14 divided by itself & is the silent hiss that remains, being absolutely nothing but zero

Coming around to the blind faith behind star-solar-sun revolution of atomic electron blow.

Grim reaper at your rear-end, regardless of whether you like it or not, it’s a fact, young Jacks

Praise imaginary creations & creating life’s fake-fact that it’s divine intentions of some One

High regards for Blackness all around the Earth and the unseen, egregious pawns in packs

Minimum of queens and kings upon a figure head, spied on by rooks, knights & bishoprics.

By and by, the byways’ & means’ committees ruptured by a pending rapture of holy souls

Doom unless you’re a carnivore hunter, what’ll you eat that’s living or dead meat? Nothing

Eating dead things that used to be alive and either rise from a seed out of the ground’s face

Or a miraculous, spontaneously animated genome gets created, at random in deep Space.

It’s not gonna get any better than being born with the reward of good karma from way back

Whomever you were, whatever you did has been the history of this world, all on #Substack

What could or should have been the case in the history of this world is over and done, Om

Nothing binary, just the only one that matters, the ego, id & super ego you’re inherited, son.

Should’ve been the naughty daughters, but according to the ancients, it’s always the boys

Learned how to be selfish and not selfless from the caves and jungles, what else were toys?

From dirt & stone, skyscraping towers built to stop an urban spread out, the Tower of a Nero

OK to do that, being mortals as we are, we’ll make sure it all drops back to holy ground zero.

Hard as your head’s skull or as soft as your best girl’s skin, either way it’s all gonna be AOK

In my own way, I kid you not, whether you signed up for this or it’s an assignment ala gods

Follow the bouncing balls boundaries between the tundra and the swamplands anywhere

Blues comes out of the strings and the chords because it’s childbirth to post mortem faire.

All tuned up for the melody to be repeated & never forgotten nor transfigured into a chimera

No way it’ll ever appear without the linguistic preservation, all will return to the cosmic dust

As if you’ve gone over to the dark side & returned to high lights with no torso tattoo scratch

Fill the fools full of free food and losers’ misery, it’s easy to hook the fish, savior’s wild pitch.

All ears know what they’ve heard, all translations verbatim from a horse’s mouth, live evils

Alright, forward or backwards, just letters, vowels, and consonants, sentence of the Villes

City of ruins or metropolitan skylines, only King Kong could climb & tumble down, certainly

Lakes leftover from flood’s deep pit, rivers all run through it, peak volcanoes to a dead sea.

Beer for our horses in front of the livery stable, my old boots need to give my feet a solid

If you know then you know, you know exactly what I mean by the non-sequitur rock mold

Fight about anything means you’ve got no legs to stand on, you can’t hold your ground too

You’ll see the Truth, sometimes you gotta whoop a man’s arse, can’t let all the BS fly fool.

Nobody can return to the past that’s already gone, water under the bridge, can’t step in It

Though the same river moves from one space to another, you’ll never catch the same twice

Truth be told by Heraclitus while staring at a river flowing, realizing All life was just a scam

Whether a sinner, a saint or the savior who sacrifices freedom for payment of justice’s ham.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Lundi, April VIth MMXXVI Anno Domini @ 1311 hours PST

{ Knocked this out of the crypt while jammin’ to #BackToTheGoodOlDays @BigSmo &

@CoreyCrowder link @ https://youtu.be/3eozVuADXPs?si=s_ASAv9SbqGd_BN8 }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Lundi, April VIth MMXXVI Anno Domini @ 1311 hours PST

{ Knocked this out of the crypt while jammin’ to #BackToTheGoodOlDays @BigSmo

@CoreyCrowder link @ https://youtu.be/3eozVuADXPs?si=s_ASAv9SbqGd_BN8 }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

WOOF