Guilty Pleasure Is Good For @KennyChesney #BetterThanNothingAtAll #GoonGoneGregorius #GunsAndRoses #PulitzerPrizer

PHUQ'D UP BEYOND ALL RECOGNITION  {PUBAR}

Only you know and I know what the things themselves have done to our bull jive

Babies in bassinets or all grown up and on their own, payin’ excise taxes to survive

Bum-lucky got away with murder, gone up & down like a bobber in the pond scum

Weather makes the difference and the time of day, it’s the barometer of the bum.

Fishing for The Invisible with clickbait tried & true, all effort of feeding the hungry

They will follow the meals that drop for free from heaven above, blind cannot see

All above does come down here to get below us, ashes to dust & twilight zone rust

Intention to will the power to be alive forever & ever without end, It is God’s fuss.

Hearts and souls are all in it for the long haul, there’s no free will or choice’s whim

But also, but also and then for no reason at all, none I can glean, here I am in him

This lump of organized DNA, animated and generated out of pure super-atomic sin

Obedience to the thermonuclear explosions detonated by our kids, our Extinction.

Thoughts it was the species survival, unconscious or subconsciously driven to gods

Almighty One or many as the mythology warrants, intercontinental killing hotrods

News or old wives’ tales passed through all too human minds raised by the devils

All the living spirits residing in every breathing heartbeat animated by hunger bills.

Food for thought and the pennies you need to buy the food, or you can’t think “I”

Ego or the Id within your little heckle and jeckle of a bird brain, survive ‘til ya die

Then what, nothing at all but it’s fine, don’t worry & be happy you got one chance

To make it right up to the top of the heap, that’s Life as we know it, Earth’s Dance.

Now or never means you’ve got no time left to pretend you’ve got forever & a day

You have no more days or nights except this final one, tonight, it’s the night, lovely

Neither more nor less than the morons who’ve survived the Big Bang in utero egg

Minor & major application of things themselves, God’s head thinks, all my last leg.

Hooked by the small or large mouth, just wanted to eat not die in the process, Hit

And run on like a sentence without a period, comma or question mark of bull scat

Roars from the unspoken, crying cats who can’t awaken, the scheme in the dream

To keep sleeping giants & midgets asleep in bed or at the wheel, a divine scheme.

Killed or expiring of natural causes doesn’t matter to the state of rigor mortis stiff

Not to mention the putrid nature of organic matter in atrophy, unbearable maggot

Host of the things that were here before the RNA mutated to a Homo Erectus bot

Fissure keeps fizzing with the gas erupting into deep Space, cosmic slop in the pot.

Girl you turned into Woman who trued my dream, a miraculous search complete

Finish line was always there in front of my steps, I just couldn’t foresee the Teat

Where my sustenance reinput the effulgence I could no longer glean out a womb

Apple of my eye, it fell off the tree or the back of a truck, pick up or dump, boom.

Barking up the wrong tree you’ll not find the answer to the question unasked, It

All that’s left, no word, no name, no sound, no sign or point, line or formation chit

Got all of the angles until the lines connect into the circle of extinction ending 360

A compass determines direction & heading, open fire backdraft, fire it up Big City!

Swear to the divine ghost that this life is worth it, it’s a life worth the taking to task

Bye-the-Bye you & I walk, crawl & die like it or not, no mistake, no immortal flask

To hard drink a drop from dead-air both within & outside of a vessel’s invisible Rye

Be One to be, Nothing more nor any minutia less than a Big Bang, cryin’ Third Eye.

Bubbles of air created by a slick film of slippery scum, first thing created royal blue

Planned the causes to result in the exact effects, the way it is, that’s all there is too

Professor of philosophical solipsism, all your father saw, just a bloody hemorrhoid

Chasm, wide-open, heaven’s hell fell in a jackass’ trap with your movie? I am Void.

Flight landed a minute after take-off, Time travel better than in Space, all unmoved

Sounds of magic spells chanted in echo form, inside of a brass bowl, circle grooved

Emit photons, annihilate neutrinos, physics & astronomy professors all y’all in awe

Didn’t know, didn’t think, didn’t worry about the Truth, only the damn rent so raw.

Taxed before it applied to a principle, taxed again as declared by a payee to revolt

Parked in a no parking zone, towed my hotrod to a junkyard, beast got strip-rolled

Rock & rolling the place from the silence it garnered for the past week, sparks up

I welcome you to the show because you’ve paid a fee, a blood, sweat & tear cup.

Gratitude to infinity, bless every step you take upon cool cinders leftover bad love

Seared the dead meat, BBQ’d the muscles’ and infused the blood, for a high crow

Above the skyline’s stratosphere of no return, nobody gets back in here and now

Naturally the Way, Cause & Effect have no option other than Just Do It, my dove.

Good lovin’ movin’ the inner jump of juice that wants to mutate the form in utero

Love it yes, Love don’t know where it ever was in the 1st place, it’s 2 for the show

Counting in reverse order of one to one hundred, you’ll lose track and begin again

Over & over again, ad infinitum, it’s as if you’re @Sisyphus rollin’ boulders 1 to 10.

Burnt into remnant ashes of hooks & ladders, fire engine’s red, a hook & a ladder

To climb on the outside of bricks on fire up to windows for search & rescue scatter

Our Lady of Angels had children at windows, jumping out on fire, with holy ghosts

No matter escapes the big collapse, Big Bang Silence, trust me, ends of my posts.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Samedhi, July 5th MMXXV Anno Domini @ 1111 AMPST

{ Leaked by National Insecurity Agency this AM listenin’ to #WARtheBand #HITS

Link @https://youtu.be/rZvimCWQ2oA }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?

The Pulitzer Prize in Poetry and Prose: Masterpieces of the Millennium

A Survey of Literary Excellence from 2000 Onward

Introduction

The dawn of the new millennium marked an era of profound transformation in literature, as voices new and seasoned crafted works that illuminated the human condition in dazzling, often daring ways. The Pulitzer Prize, established in 1917 to honor excellence in journalism and the arts, stands as one of the most prestigious recognitions for American poets and prose writers. This document embarks on a sweeping journey through the Pulitzer Prize-winning poetry and prose—fiction, drama, and nonfiction—from 2000 to the present, exploring the themes, styles, and societal shifts captured by these visionary authors.

Pulitzer Prize-Winning Poetry: Echoes of Modernity

The Poets and Their Contributions

The Pulitzer Prize for Poetry has often reflected the changing tides of American culture, giving the laurel to those who both honor tradition and push boundaries. 

Conclusion

As the new millennium marches on, the Pulitzer Prize continues to celebrate literature that is both timely and timeless. The poets and prose writers who have won this honor are united by their willingness to confront complexity, their innovation in form and language, and their ability to evoke empathy, wonder, and understanding. Their works are not only chronicles of their age, but lanterns lighting the path forward—testaments to the enduring power of poetry and prose.

In tracing the arc of Pulitzer-winning literature since 2000, we encounter not only the shifting story of America, but also the evolution of art itself—restless, radiant, and ever-renewing.

#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.