#GILGAMESH #JailBreak #Inkydo

THE PHILOSOPHER STONER

who CANT BUST A CHESS MOVE

  { get your own line & pole )

To know more about the Truth as the philosophers knew it back in the day

Trust in the process of induction & deduction to arrive at the chit people say

So you know you’ll be in a state of disbelief when you discover the deception

Not only you but also everyone you tell about the Light will know mortal sin.

Only the One who is immortal and undiscoverable lives beyond Earth’s wobble

Intelligent as you & yours may be, there is Reality you’ll never know post bubble

Atmospheric collapse then oxygen escapes the stratosphere to a Void’s Space kill

Any man or woman who recalls this gravity zero & returned to the roadkill chills.

Charged positive and negative ions between neutrons of electronic excitement OG

Hair or absolutely aquatically scaled determines where you’ve descended in a city

By a great lake or coastal ocean surf, even streams & rivers movin’ north or south

By the time you figure out your place & destiny, it’s the last thing out your mouth.

Not to be morbid but to make a salient point, I have a narrow path to follow up on

Nobody is ahead of me & nobody can follow behind my all disappearing rear end

Hearing words interpreted exactly as meant by the statements’ conclusions’ scar

Way of the Truth is the opposite of Fabrication, what I am is what I am, as you are.

By the time you check the rate of the Earth’s rotation, Time runs out hour glasses

Bringing your best possible form of survival skills to a scrum, get ready, no passes

Put your mothers and fathers in their pauper-graves, pile the granite carving high

With cross, star, in a sarcophagus or -0 degree morgue, ain’t nobody gets a #Bye.

You’re not getting out alive with the morons who’ll return to their original sins too

In a garden of Eden without labor-childbearing, a tree of Good produced Evil true

Keep the message clear & the danger present, we’re all gonna die & turn corpse

Don’t be harsh to a messenger with firearms, Silence is golden so get the lead out.

Thinking of the manners you’ve gleaned from your teachers, good & bad turn ugly

It’s a nature of Evil turned backward into Live as a word, Nothing like bein’ boned

To defend your heart & soul against the offensive, immoral bones in bad humanity

Eyes wide open, ears hear hypersonically, unmoved soul place, kryptonite stoned.

Bore me until ennui sets in for perpetuity and reincarnate beings, all saints to be

No way to be certain, the principle of uncertainty requires a leap of blinded faith

All done now & will always be the way it’s always been, like That’s the Way it all is

Encyclopedia from A to Z in an occult library of Freemasons & Essenes, slo gin fizz.

In a nutshell, the code grows in the ash of the Big Bang, it’s all fabricated to pilots

Astronauts and cosmonauts who escape the gravity realize we Need Mother Earth

There is nothing near & everything is too far to get to while alive, it’s post mortem

Blind faith, breathe in and out until you can’t, enjoy, feel swell, stay out the scum.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Vendredi, Janvier XXIIIrd MMXXVI Anno Domini @ 911 AMPST

{ Filled in the blanks of the Void in an hour of bathing in Clear Light from the Windowpane listenin’ to @KennyChesney & @UncleKracker #WhenTheSunGoesDown on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/eGLdbpmXrbQ?si=gnRIVLC68G1C3J9v }

HOWDY DOODY & BUFFALO BILL

#KillTheLights #RememberTheFirstTime? #PoofOfDeath #Meatloaf #AC/DC @KennyChesney & @UncleKracker

VIRUS THAT DISAPPEARS

UPON ARRIVAL

For the final offer that no human being could ever refuse from the first to last woman fears

You’ll exist as an immortal during Time, eternity and infinity as above, borrow to barter, man

It’s a profitable way to earn your keep, Other People’s Money or OPM’s just ‘cause you can

Payback the loan with interest before a due date, well prior to that by five or six long years.

Kool-Ade drunk to the limit, people allow what their parents programmed them to accept

Grape or cherry-ade were my personal choices until I weened off of the sugar brew concept

After too many years of cavities and rotten roots due to evil maintenance, I have bridges

To cover gaps where I have nothing but air to the mandible gums, simple sinister pitches.

As young as an embryo or as old as a pre-cadaverous set of mammalian skeletal remains

Equations of inequality between you and I due to the nature of being alive on a spun rock

No need to cast aspersions to your friends and foes who share this dream within a dream

Imagine you’re completely full of that which you’ve eaten the last few days of cyberstream.

Just as music goes into one ear or another and comes out one or the other into creativity

Blood flows from top to bottom of the capillaries and arteries and veins in a finite cycle

Only so many beats each muscle can absorb, it is a Valentine heart inside a ribs’ cage

To protect the heart & holy soul-spirit that animates the RNA/DNA complex simplicity.

Feeling human, not too human but just enough to realize you’re on the way to old OZ

Wherever that imaginary joint is that has the Big Guy in the sky, nirvana, heaven above

Once the virus consumes anything available that doesn’t destroy it, the RNA of Love

Find out anything in the secret annals of the occult aliens, a clown tent full of Bozos.

Breaking into the safe places that aren’t as safe as they were last century, masses die

Causes of the effects don’t matter any longer, the fecal matter happens below the sky

Nothing at all you will recall the day after y’all kick the bucket, & I mean nothing at all

Pretty perfect in ultraviolet blue and infrared crimson stripes & 50 stars will never fall.

Drinking and smoking until there’s nothing remaining to imbibe or toke, the way it is

If you conserve items you consume, some vagabond will steal it when you look away

Then you’ll both conserve and share with strangers who never pay back anything at all

How can you believe what isn’t true & pretend that it isn’t a proverbial white lie display?

Easy, gullible morons eat wild mushrooms with blind faith in nature’s ambivalence to us

It will kill you, but you won’t be hungry any longer, back in line of the pecking order fuss

Grow so weary of roaming Earth without a resting place that can’t be seen by private eyes

In a final blow, a finale comes like it or not, it’s inevitable so expect it, all gone gods’ lies.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Jeudi, Janvier XXIInd MMXXVI Anno Domini at 111 PMPST

{ Drafted while listenin’ to #AmericanMade by @BigSmo on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/eHGfmpXlhFk?si=_BDlfrdBbzL7fyga }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?

AM RADIO NEVER LIKED DISCO #FineAsAFrog @BigSmo #SMO #Hog #Frog #SingleBarrelShotguns #MindsOnGOD

LEARNIN’ HOW TO LET THE CERTAINTY CRASH LAND

From the attitude you had the day you were born you’ve become a real know-it-all

Young or old, beginning with the original and mortal sins, forgiveness is impossible

Told you, commanded you, taught you to read & swear on your words’ Truth, you fool

If you’re not a fool, why act foolish when the appearance of inferiority ain’t even cool.

Files from A to Z, so simple that even a moron or an idiot could keep the files in order

Z and backwards to A, enough room for all these physical files on a floppy disc or four

Dreaming that being awake on planet Earth is everything there is, the universe is empty

Astronauts and cosmonauts are sworn not to divulge the fact of life, Earth is in a hurry,

Flyin’ around the ecliptic for whatever good reason we’ve deduced, matter & energy mix

Wide open spaces between the oceans full of H2O, liquid gas getting recycled back kicks

Crew can wreak havoc on every single thing in life, makin’ suitable time has advantages

Football is fine, playoff & Super Bowl for free, busted tellin’ the Truth about my lost wages.

I am both the drill and the hole, matter in atomic weight & energy in ergs and grand watts

For the ones with no mother and no father you ever knew of, it’s an orphan rant, at-bats

On or off the bases, you can’t win without scoring the runs, you’ve got to slide in the sticks

Piling your hair up on top of your head is fine for shootin’ hoop but it detracts aesthetics.

Pretenders teach pretending to their grand daddies who can’t tell Truth from White Lies

You earned and evened up on your inherited karma, live & die just for that, no moon pies

Poppin’ corn covered with caramel & salt, smells like heaven on Earth, when it’s all gone

Frozen tundra and boiling quicksand from uncovered planetary dirt that gravity sucks in.

Hunter and angler, be one to retain your freedom to live without working, trade in gold

Oil and the exchange for your backbone use, your time clock punch from 9 to 5, retire old

If you’re lucky, cashin’ in on the pension eventually, you just don’t think I’ve got the Wood

Together we make one another take it in, until it’s gone girl, way gone Levi’s on ol’ dogwood.

Whiskey and Rye with a prayer to the good lord usually gets the proper result, 99% of Time

The 1% is the key for the lock, turn it in the keyhole, open up the door & then pump Rhyme

Little Bigtown of Love or Hate, Long or Short, Truth or Fallacious arguments to shut down

Pumping the air & water into the receptacles leads to a blown mind of only God the clown.

Don’t try to shoot messengers since there are no firearms, none on Earth, no ordinance

Scale to weigh the living and the dead with the rest of the Earth’s matter, all of the bones

Skulls and toes from a myriad of intentional RNA recombination, without a creator to die

No requiem just because God couldn’t live forever, mortality is the Truth and the holy Lie.

Whiskey form Blackjack & Hops from Negro Modelo, get me to the train cross country too

I hate to travel unless I’m unconscious, especially going at a few hundred miles per hour

On a jet plane, a train, on a bus, drivin’ myself in a @Masseratti makes no difference to me

If it ain’t local & I’ve got to pack some snacks before we “Ride”, I ain’t into the bird or bee.

Dig this or not, I am the one that’s gonna die when it’s my time to die, no replacements so

Ready or not when the time comes, my spirit & soul will let the good times roll without me

Rather be here & there instead of up in the shooting stars above, love riverside & country

My place, living as good as gold, throwing up culture where good times roll, it’s post blow.

Fun begins at the kegger and the full bar with the expert tender from the @HardRockBar

About to go down the secret place that’s mi casa, su casa, single or double, & fishin’ pole

Bowlin’ strikes and spares to hit my average 255, can’t quite get all 300, nobody’s perfect

Unless it’s an unrealistic expectation, I’m satiated & got a Dixie Cup full, no keys to my car.

Open gate policy down the gully, the children are all ready to play, high school & grads

Makin’ the next generation coupling up with the cherished and irresistible pull of the DADS

Morning light ain’t comin’ up for 6 hours, come on over to my place, come o’er to say howdy

Open the gates so all my friends can get in and get a little high and just a little bit rowdier.

Fire down by the riverside, talkin’, laughin’, and drinkin’ until the eyes hooked up, & then

Fifty years passed by quickly, the grandkids are bein’ born all over the world as we know it

Now hear this, putting the nouns & verbs in the form of a rational thought to elevate above

Then it is now, no more waiting, let the fun begin, spinnin’ a ball of yarn to give you a shove.

Better homes and gardens with the birds & bees who share the benefits of just bein’ on duty

Workin’ as hard as I’ve realized that I must for my own sanity, I used to be combat so ready

Now it’s trying to put me to rest, pushin’ myself harder than when I used to roll up sleeves

Focused on the sun when the light comes into the darkness, like it or not, it’s The Steves.

By the time you read this here prolegomenon there’ll be a conflagration of continental riffs

You and I have neighbors, some drink & smoke & some tea-total for their free choice cliffs

Jumpin’ off the edges you see here and there, it gets better if you pretend it won’t hurt bad

It might & it might not, certainly in the end, last heartbeat, one more beauty won’t be sad.

Blisters on my feet and fingers from workin’ the bones for gold cash greenbacks, got higher

Never mattered in the first place, it was a matter of pretending pretensions got from father

Not a dream if you don’t wake up, the reality of the gods nobody ever sees is, they’re dead

Don’t shoot the messenger just because you can’t grasp Truth, live ‘til your blood ain’t red.

Moonshine when it’s bright or cloud-covered, we kickin’ it in Tennessee, middle of the wood

Fine as a line you can’t see between us, the facts of life require blind faith, incredible dude

Driving or flying gets the 20th century mankind to OutSpace in a gravitational-release bullet

Grip to keep on me, better hold tight, I’m slippin’ into my 3rd wind, throw shots back, I’m set!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Lundi, Martin Luther King Day, Janvier 19th MMXXVI Anno Domini

{ Drafted these signals while jammin’ to @BigSmo & @AlexanderKing  #AnythingGoes & #SmoMotion @ https://youtu.be/-FRKaDxcg80?si=6ZAxc_nPuFvKhB-i & #NoAssNoGrassNoRide  https://youtu.be/Lpink7LcufY?si=iMJtUlMzRXva04mN  }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?

@CarlosSantana @TheEagles #HeartWontTellALie @LosLonelyBoys

HIGHLIGHT THE DARK SIDE TO SEE THE TRUTH

#GoBears in #TwoBits

Keep your mind on the bull’s eye, the 1st prize you win is a Peace Prize piece as if it shed

Light on the middle path displays the only meaning of life to all living things, every atom

In the end as it was in the beginning, every single thing larger than an atom will be dead

Someday, some way or another, the inevitable result of the Big Bang is a Tiny Peep, bam.

Dollars and nonsense mix the mental recordings into a hodgepodge of Reason and Rhyme

When it all comes down to one bottom line, since it’s invisible & non-existent, out of Time

On the easy money, gold, silver certificates, copper & lead nickels, silver drops of holy fear

Hillbilly pop opposite of the adjacent, infinite lines winds up lost in the muck, blood & beer.

Recover the days y’all lost before you came in front of me, you now know what you thought

Inside of the womb, prior to childbirth, every zygote and fetus fills the Void of Reality sought

Mark the dots, the finite lines and shapes of symbolic UFO scientology, it’s all a cosmic stiff

Unraveled your yarn to expose the empty center where Nothing remains after the guitar riff.

Alright as right can be, left out on the precipice of 2 number lines, angles & infinite shapes

One preconconceived notion above air’s ocean, breathing exhaled O2 from misanthropes

In this or another zoo, below & above this here & that there, fathered the mothers’ bad kids

I take full responsibility for everything out of my hands, reward & punish me on pallet skids.

Sixteen penny spikes, nailed to the oak and pine, spruce to birch, crosses of the well-hung

Makin’ the whole Monday to Sunday week that repeats ad infinitum, I got an itch to get flung

Across the street or over the freeway underpass, subways & elevated trains don’t even care

One or two bits to get on & get off, it’s the only way to go around The Loop, the travel fare.

Pick a hand, there’s something in both, one of the hands has a piece of gold, the other coal

You can exchange the items for indulgences on the back porch, smoking with a deep bowl

Swam in the hole, swung from the tree’s long-hangin’ vine, or was it a battleship rope chug

Blown smoke out the smokers & the hotlips of the kinfolk & cousins, huggin’ & kissin’ bug.

Hashtag word up from the get-go and ad infinitum to the Singularity sucking all of us within

Go to the rear of the class before you graduate from indoctrination of the cerebral cortex

You may not pay attention to the training, hence you’ll be undertrained with less overvalue

Obnoxiousity is an accidental reaction to being annoyed by a pompous, blind faith screw.

Will to the power of the hour cannot exceed it’s full capacity, there’s no reserve to add at all

High as the window in the tower, smoke burns into the brain’s grey matter, thoughts & mind

Where it’s all happening for real, philosopher-scientists positing more than a Chicago scent

Dead fish on the beaches, dumped disaster from the big city into the deep end just to find.

Blind eyes, blind faith & blind alleys contain absolutely no ultraviolet ion or infrared wave

Subatomic and galactic status assigned to matter at rest and in motion, particulate shave

Smooth or rough display of the games of fools, relatives & community of riff raff homeless

Appears that it’s all there is, then we die, others dispose of us, dead air for eternity’s bliss.

by

r j j stephan, i

c.  Samedhi, Janvier XVII^th        MMXXVI Anno Domini @1615 hours

{ Drafted while listenin’ to mystery juice @ https://youtu.be/OOHTaknPTek?list=RD3KGA_8CSmsI }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?

1992 PONTIAC FIREBIRD   MY WINGS  92-97

#GO CHICAGO 2025 BEARS