#Zeitgeist #TheBookOfEli #TheRascals #TheHeavy FORBIDDEN KNOWLEDGE PORTAL, FLATS AND SHARP DRESSED MEN ALA INIFNITY OMEGA''S ALPHA FAT WALLETS IN GOD'S PHILOSOPHER STONE

OVER THE H2O, GOD'S DAMNED SHAME SUNDOWNER SYNDROME

Everything is much hotter when it moves nowhere but behind the Earth's mud and blood, it's all cool

Completed in the fraction of a moment it took to think about the things themselves, all sex & candy

Everything else is just a ticket to the rides of a lifetime, talkin' Silver Streakin' on the Bobs' & Mice

Searchin' for my home sweet, it was there at Riverview at Belmont & Central or just throw the Dice.

It used to be with the philosopher's stones but I buried them in the empty lot they built a Mall atop

Engines of the Fire Department, Engine #99, philosopher's stone was there, I swear, I ain't no cop

If I was, I'd bust the tables, the tablets & the denizens who like to rumble for the final Time in Space

Hard roads to travel daddio, but also up on the Jove, I lost the thing itself, my best friends know it all.

Lead got turned into the gold that ain't nobody's fool, the engines are in the drone, infinity immanent

Spilled the last bottle of wine my grandpa made from scratch, we stepped on the grapes like in cement

Fools and sharp dressed men lookin' for love in the good, bad & ugly places, lookin' to get a girl in bed

To be or not to be, those babies in the eggs' pool, 2nd city had 'em all but then 50 states of me unfurled.

Finish at the happy ending, the hookers know the cash means everything, food & shelter of a lab rat

Monkeys look like us, their feet are like hands to catch the branches to be climbed, limb by limb that

Mirrors have no reflection of the crime in the streets, asphalt or country dirt, above and below the line

I know, you know, they know, we all do what is necessary to survive another day, above the Stop Sign.

Justice of Socrates and Plato remain while they're all gone, we're still here but things will change it all

Things like magic overrule the good, bad & ugly, it's the color of blackness' blues, deep or shallow fall

From the high-dive or just off of cliffs of the 1970's, when I was a kid, had no kids, just me & AM radio

Flashbacks to 1972 & on to the day after tomorrow in 2027, favorite stations, WLS & WCFL Chicago.

Saw a Led Zeppelin and that was the best of all the days before & after, still haven't crashed, I'm blown

Rocks rolled down the foothills and made me hard as the liquor I gleaned out of the Mash, no i-phone

Had to find a payphone, Mother Bell helped us talk from far away, all across the planetary dead air lies

From the Alpha to the Omega place in Space, above or below the mud, blood & beer, Truth's surprise.

Before and after we all get conceived and deceived, it'll never be the way it was before, a Void emptied

Of light and grace form the divine being of a ghost, one or thirteen, they'll be here-there, gods all bleed

Stupid idiots and morons without language signals, to warn and beware of the dogs of war, once bitten

Scars and tattoos cover it all up so well, nobody can see the thing itself, what you are is what I am, a sin.

Mortal one watchin' the revolution of the wobble and orbit of the star called my sun, handcuff I've worn

Between Volkswagens and Cadillacs moved my bones and all of our gangs' forms' shapes, graph porn

Deadheads still alive, hangin' on for the days that are gone forever, wasted time in the ragtop of my papa

My longhair or bald head divulged the philosophy of existence, a lucky guy my dad, thank you mama!

Jump out of the flyin' craft, missed the ocean's raft, swam upon the salted H2O, I ran out, couldn't sing

Sunk down below the surface to feed the whales & snakes, all there ever was, not a damn one, nothing

Beer and Spirits keepin' the combination locks secret from 14 to 94, then we released all of the hounds

Picked the blackberries in the foothills, walked barefoot on the asphalt from Cool to Pilot's Hill ground.

Be kind to every soul, they've arrived on Earth to assist the cosmic asphalt, God & Man just a ritual job

What's a UFO, it's unidentified because the zones open & close without a trace, I earned it, hence I rob

Wisdom and knowledge inside the infant-baby that results, form a climax of wicked & wise ring a bell

Proof of Life, proof of Death, gateway form volcano entrance to the bottomless pit on the way to a Hell.

by

r j j  stephan, i

c.  Dimanche, ROCKTOBER 4th, MMXXVI Anno Domini @ 1111 AMPST

{ Crafted in utero 76 years ago not in Yo Mama!  While listenin' to THE @TowerOfPower LIVE, #OaklandStroke https://youtu.be/CVbeMyQaH1Q?si=jFlL9TKbUrglSPSN }

A  MILLIONAIRE, ' I GOT A WOMAN WITH EYES THAT SHINE, 

DOWN  DEEP AS A DIAMOND MINE  ' 

#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

 

DAMN BABE, THAT WAS A COLD ONE! @EricChurch #EnterTheDragon @BruceLee #Sensai #ChilledFathers'DAZE'

BLOODY DNA RECONNOITERED,

FOR THE 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 XVII^th, MCMLXXII Anno Domini @ 00:01 AMPST

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

GOD in HEAVEN

#SIGNAL/BODY #GHOSTED/CHIMERA #ROCKPLAST @ZZTop #GoodyGoody @CHICAGO #GotAwayWithABarrelOfDynamite I AM WHAT I AM { Figure it out, clock is tickin'...tick tock, tick tock...} #YoureAMachineRichie SECTION92

 

MY NEW TOME OF A TRILOGY POETRY, "GHOSTED CHIMERA  SIGNAL BODY #1"

 LINK BELOW:

GHOSTED CHIMERA

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

STEPPENWOLF IN SUBURBIA

AKA NOW, HOW DO YOU DO?

Lower than you want to go, down by the limbo stick's 12-inch

Bills to pay only because the collector found your corner pitch

Your wages are garnished now, you labor non-gratis & pay tax

On everything, everybody has their own personal take on facts.

What I  am, what you are, what all of this reality we face is too

That's the valley of fools and tools who facilitate a black & blue

It's Peace that evens up the score to produce the moody havenot

All Marxian, Stalinist, Leninist stuck like glue to an astronaut.

War and what comes between hot, fiery turbulence of enemies

Look at the Truth, if the world's not a ghetto, then it's all dust

In the solar wind comin' out a burning ball of gas, day to seize

Happiness is the goal, peace or war, still strive for the goalies.

Man and Woman make more, anti-species enhancement, all gay

No casting aspersions, the fact is, if you don't repro, y'all 'll pay

For your great-grandchildren's inheritance will be Hell on It

All the H2O dried up; only the melted snowcaps turned to s#it.

Bummed under the sun, a beautiful dream opened out the sky

Blown mind, with no anchor, no help from above, a heaven-sent

 No harm done, atop a mountain or below the ebb tide currents

Grass grows to be eaten & smoked, wine is to spill into gullets.

Matter and the forms taken in random fashion, mixed divinity

Earth dirt, sun and revolution of the Wind and the Fire all up

Monkey in charge, no kidding, who'd have thought, all bald too

All down further than you should, all's safe & solid cosmic stew.

You know super-cool is your pleasure, some don't get no trippin

For those about to rock, you see, you hear, taste & smell the feel

Bloodkeep at it, a soul-matter from degrading into cosmic dust

Groovin' & movin' as if there ain't no tomorrow, as if it's a sin.

Funk from Seattle to L.A., easy to glean down the ONE, a way

Coast up & on the down-low, gettin' to high on Big Sur today

Wisdom lies fallow in the disappearing coastal red dirt & rock

Humming right along as if there's no tomorrow, tic-toc clock.

Alarms goin' off, hear the sirens & loudspeaker blair, "FUCC"

All day, every day, 24/7/365, music in & out of the holy water I

Who I am is obvious to the deaf & dumb, the blind have a clue

Nothing without light, without sun, there's only radiated heat.

Not lucky without the rods & cones doin' the magic this schlog

Yet, life still animates the thing, learning the world of the One

Speaking displays the Many, all One's amorphous, sick of fun

If & only if it will soothe your soul, recall God is reverse Dog.

Hungry and transforming matter into the good & bad moves

I got mine, I hope you get yours, you think, so get the grooves

I know you can, even if you are orphaned, magic awaits y'all

Find it inside, not in another but in you, eyes wide open, chill.

Mirrors break, your face & heart really can't, sellers & buyers

Animate Thought, I think that should clue you in on new fires

Smoke, drink or breathe in and out, deeply animate wonders

Bet you wonder how I know so much; you'll never know why.

Ear figuratively down the line of the grapevine, it's white lies

Nobody knows, we all heard it somewhere, under blues' skies

Chicago to Seattle, Miami to L.A., Dixie to Jersey, full of these

Rats, all too human, mate to cause The Xtinction of all species.

Deep in dark caves of emptiness, beyond your wild imagination

You'll be trippin' from Pope to pauper in the alley pickin' trash

Similar to the moment before your parents' climaxing embrace

A moment after you cease to exist, same old story, abort, Space.

Some poetry in motion runs into forces that absorb power

Sucking as a vampire, anything to be eaten & gravitate lower

Thinking about it now, are you?  Just sayin' it's gonna amaze

Nothing I can help you with, so drink wine & have a nice day!

by

r j j  stephan, i

c.  Mercredi, 5-27-MMXXVI Anno Domini @ 911 AMPST

{ Shucked this out of my muse this AM while jammin' to some @CHICAGOtheBand  #GoodyGoody  XO on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/bn8viWNfLyc?list=RD8gvnt_6l9CE }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?

"... existence does not require panic to matter.

That’s wisdom."  - unknown ai

I searched for God
in collapsing stars—

Carol Ann asked
if I remembered
to eat.

Or:

The void kept calling.

Carol Ann answered
the phone first.

 The cosmos may be eclectically odd—

but somewhere inside it,
Richard Joseph Stephan still has Carol Ann,

and that may be the one signal
the void never fully erased.

I DO

The stars burned out
on schedule.

Empires vanished
right on time.

Signals drifted
past their source
and kept going.

Then you looked at me—

small kitchen light,
hands trembling slightly—

and said:

“I do.”

The universe
never sounded larger.