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Showing posts with label Sychophantic; Dreamlanded; @SimpletonGenius. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sychophantic; Dreamlanded; @SimpletonGenius. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 10, 2026

#CHECKyourself #Santana #Winwood #Satriani #Church YOU GOIN'? #KennyWayneShephard #KidROCK #ACDC LIVE at Donnegan #HELLSbells


DIVINE LOVE, NEON APPLE, ORIGIN OF SYNCHRONICITY

Chronic and/or acute knee bone pain turns into back pain due to the crouch & lean too 
For the sake of the leaders and followers, the ultra-matrix relieves the pressure of two 
One man and one woman held responsible for the woes, the wailing & drops of tears 
All for one and one for all, like the three musketeers, body, mind & spirit, all my fears.

Ladies and gentlemen who are barbarians with shaves & haircuts, attention please? 
In the original sin, this bite of one apple caused the whole shebang to turn into atrophies 
Impossible dreams morphed into the reality of every Tom, Dick & Harry, whoever it did 
Anything with anybody who told a story after we died or after everything’s cold and dead.

Mindful of the music always droning on in the background to divert your attention, arrest it 
If these space-age tools of the trade were available hundreds of years ago, read the script 
It states that all lives, all thrive on this plane of existence, a magical Disney World ride 
Art alive and in the end, a reflection of what used to be alive and well, takin’ it all in stride.

In confusion, with deprogramming, all human wisdom morphed into an empty set, a void 
Coming in loud and clear in a two or three-octave, organic rush of air through holes I avoid 
Near or far from the place in Space you & I call home, there is what Love leftover in a pie 
Coconuts and peanuts, Cracker Jacks and ice cream bars need my two lips, ain’t gonna lie.

Follow what disappeared before you were born, to the place in Space to see The One’s face 
Bar none, everything is all this & that, like Nothing you’ve ever seen, prepared to be orphans 
Think now is the Time, Life’s game’s rules are dialed into harmony and intense expectations 
Out of Earth’s graveyards, each hole’s holy, no resurrection at all, all’s gone without a trace.

Just because all matter and all energy is the totality of the expression of everything, it’s sad 
That means there’s no creator playing games with the rules of Life and Death, War & Peace 
It’s been a ruse of illusions, believed as if the Truth were the words expressing the horrid lie 
Judging without tools of examination isn’t a bright choice, yet done to be hung up on high. 

Mirror image of how you look in the reflection on the lake when it’s unmoved mover’s all in 
Only a portrait of a painting of an artist on hold, waiting to be connected to one spirit skin 
Still art with color pigment illuminated by excited gas emissions at light speed, so comical 
Pandemics or epidemics matter a bit but not much, Nature’s way of meddling with free will.

On the flip side of the argument, it’s the only rational conclusion that allows total harmony 
Hair of the dog grows until it dies of fear and loathing in-house or near out-house odoriferous 
Balls in the baskets, in the goals, with the pucks and footballs in the end zone of easy money 
Herd mentality is inherited & is inherently dangerous to the free spirit who has a lotta nerve.

Maybe nobody can achieve total illumination while in 208 bones of all too human fame, so 
What do you know about that? Truth be told, I lied when I thought I was takin’ the low blow 
Punchin’ a Truth doesn’t fly when you get the shaft from the trusted ones, and so it goes on 
To bitter ends where nobody gets out alive, all about the juke box’s sad songs, we’re singing.

As if I had a heart and a soul like the minions before and after me, I’m all there is left of me 
A voice in the form of typed alphabet in conceptual analysis of the matter at hand, survival 
Neither the first nor the last to come to the bitter end of the line & see Nothing to be free of 
As you were above the clouds, so you were below the ground of being, buried a white dove.

Bones calcify, blood coagulates, soul & conscious mind disappear into thin air, defecation 
Stay upwind; downwind is the sewer of defecation; on the other hand, this is a mortal sin 
What happens if you disobey the law of the creator of a universe? I’ll defecate fly’s screws 
No way out, there’s no sorrow for the defecation of Never-Neverland, Adam & Eve’s blues.

Thoughts reflect the feelings past the thing itself, becoming something from nothing at all
An amazing miracle of the state of being divine and able to descend to humane eternity
Cars speed faster than the speed of light, per second, per second, fast and furiously fall
Down to the bottom of the pit of Hades, in the mindfulness of abandonment, alone, Me.
 
by 
r j j stephan, i
c.  Lundi, June 8th MMXXVI Anno Domini @ 911 PMPST

{ Kicked this out of the stanzas of the divine while listenin’ to @BrooksAndDunne & @MorganWallen  #NeonMoon on youTube in a loop link @https://youtu.be/UHn1S_mWZFE?si=deoNjv-OdllBre46 }

F I N I S
W.W.A.R.D.?
NOW, YOU TELL ME...
YOU WANT A NICKELBACK!

Thursday, February 05, 2026

@SuperbowlLX #Commercials2026 @Meatloaf #LetMeSleepOnIT @JanAndDean #DragCity #Thunderstruck by #LaFlaca @Santana @Skynyrd concert

LA  FLACA
superbowl lx
 find my happy

ONE BOWL OF SUPERMEN & SUPERWOMEN IN A BUGATTI

I can move as an animated bag of 208 bones, both up & down ala fire
Nevermore to repeat the never afore mentioned on a hot funeral pyre
Hating things that happened doesn’t prevent the hot recurrence of it all
Coming from nowhere you’ve ever been, between my ears in this skull.

Hysterical as you’ll be once Time itself disappears from your radar, it will
Believe it or not, no blind faith in reports ala the living, check the graves
Time above ground leaves no doubt about how long buried down under
Us & them, we’ll cut the lawns over hot-spots’ labeled granite blunders.

Years since birth to the year of finality’s death-call, resting underground
Check the hippies’ long hair for bugs, electronic or insecticide resistant
Marvelous as it appears at first blush, first glance is the 2nd glance of It
Superbowl after the first fifty-nine winners and losers, smell of bull chit.

Remarkable and above reproach, morality and ethics of the Pope & Czar
Miracles of the dead folks who were born, raised & died drinkin’ in a car
Tell the Truth, the absolute one not the relative one, do not clap the dap
Completely furious about the Great Lie, immortality is dead man’s clap.

You and the rest of y’all who worship the silver & gold, no darker black
Or lighter white to see when the sun goes down, without fire or power
It’s a matter of campfires, chasin’ away thieves, scavengers of war spoils
If you think your life is tough, it’s paradise to dead ancestors’ dirty toils.

No form that life may occupy, no place in Space is the Void’s cosmic sea
Nothing else anywhere in another dimension of timing space, no doubt
What part of the English language is unclear about the nature of reality
Setting sun is a name for disappearance of shine as Earth spins about.

Finish the fait au complet whatever that entails, deduce a happy ending
No mystery and soon common knowledge to all, humans are dreaming
Sleeping at night and death brings the eternal essence to bear, all to be
Count, spell, theorize until you mesmerize the idiot-morons in the scree.

Being beautiful and good is a tool to barter for the desires & royal needs
It is a critical theory which isn’t necessarily a Truth at all, the race is on
On the first turn or just before the backstretch of backstreet older boys
Re-center your attention, arrest it by the shore of tranquility, Zen ploys.

If & only if you don’t mind, so feel free to annoy me with a questioner
As if I don’t have another thought in my head other than you, yes sir
You may be with or without a high IQ, it matters little in rigor mortis ill
Turning the living clay back into the dust it gleaned out the Big Bang kill.

Now is the time, here is the place it all turns from water into red wine
Wish you were not who you’ve turned out to be but that’s the breaks
You reap what you sow & if you sow bad seed, you reap rotten ol’ crop
All the same, even if you have a bumper crop, y’all live to eat our cakes.

Crime to disobey the rules & laws of the middle road because of karma
A ledger keeping track of the good, the bad and the ugly from a trauma
Being conceived & born in 9 months is a miracle, like walking on water
From there, being detached from the chord, being independent of Her.

Mother Nature or your mama from another sister, is all but sacrosanct
In retrospect of the Present that followed the recent & distant Past time
Presence is Past immediately once you draw a breath & pack a suitcase
Feeling sunshine transforming my dead face back into the human race.

I was nineteen & then I saw it turn to sixty-nine, city to country river run
Starting line to the finish, I inherited a fine IQ to circumnavigate the fun
Training taught the rules & regulations, muscles strengthened, mind too
All the power stored within will be summoned to assist unto death’s flu.

High as the stratosphere & low as the Earth’s core, Nothing else matters
All of the causes and ill effects of relationships with a myriad of 96 tears
By the time the Crying’s over, everything that lived decomposes in synch
Atoms matter in form, day, swing or night shift, divinity all pretty in Pink.
by
r j j stephan i 
c. February 4th 2026 AD at 333 PMPST
{ Cracked this nutshell while jammin’ to #ALoveSupreme by @John_Coltrane link for youTube https://youtu.be/dAUIV_fwrmI & @BruceSpringsteen #OnlyTheStrongSurvive on youTube link https://youtu.be/lTRS-dNAgvA?si=5DENmBw4LTVlwTWQ }
F I N I S 
W.W.A.R.D.?
S P R I N G S T E E N
CHEVROLET CORVETTE
B I G   S M O
son of a bucket
S U P E R   B O W L LX

Friday, November 21, 2025

SIESTA FOR YO' MAMAS #CeLive say the old folks, #YaNeverCanTell @ThreeDogNight #MamaToldMeNotToCome @WarrenHaynesBand

ALIEN AIN’T REAL, SEEING THINGS 
Serious business beginning from the Alpha male to the Beta to the Cappa, all the above
It’s all a ruse to seize the means of production and reproduce only cogs for the machine
No free will or creativity options for any homo sapiens form, ce live, you never can shout
How fine the lines are that get drawn before your input, you can barely make them out.

Bleeding the air from the bag of wind, the form that’s all too human, as above, hung ropes
Everyone knows nothing about what’s happening here and now on Earth, not even Popes
Best guess is this is all an unfortunate accident of evolved consciousness able to take sips
Day to day, each spin of Earth’s mass on the imaginary axis, it wobbles & rolls the ellipse.

Immature as I’ve been since I was four, now I’m seventy-four and shit’s still all copacetic
Told stories about all I could recall from the olden days when I’d couple up with the Magic
Came out of the blue when I presented my presence to behold, they fell one by one, a pity
I wasn’t even trying but then the ‘nam war called me to be a perfect hero from a windy city.

I did what I could, someone was always on my mind for 8 weeks or more, then vanished too
Empty of the sweet and sour sauce that disguised the cuisine like the sky’s green-aqua blue
How many times can I touch the one I love before she disappears into thin air, my chimera
Dreaming is fine, I’ll wake up & she’ll be here, there again, picture in my Polaroid camera.

With me or without me, live as my companion and you’ll never need anything anytime soon
Host of the invaders comin’ out of nowhere in this Time or Space, breakin’ bad dimension
Why chit does what is being done, either we’re a toy or food, power to be one equal to none
Waited through the infancy, adolescence & adultery-hood, here with silver & black for fun.

Toes on the lines, start or finish until the powers that be blow the whistle or pop a .22 blank
Game with no rules begins, stays live with the clock ticking off the hour, secondary minutes
Feeling without touching anything, needs blessing undeserved yet accepted with the dank
Holy ghost giving the Word that has no sound or appearance writing in the sand as It sits.

Boards ridden on the wheels on the ground, on the water waves in the southern seas surf
Graduated right on time, launched into the bills, taxes, private residence and vehicle turf
Lips that get too loose will sink the ships that remain at sea pole to pole for the duration
Liars tell the Truth all the time but nobody believes the Truth anymore, lost in mortal sin.

Hops, skips and jumps up and down the barrios and country’s counties in gold territory
All usurped from the natives who arrived & colonized before Europa & Africa fell off glory
Pain and suffering with the relief and pleasure tweaking the never-ending nervous twitches
Absorb, assimilate and project the success of whole shebang, you recall the idiot pitches.

Then you move, animate the bones and without the need or desire to die, you stop breath
Heart stops, rigor mortis sets in, the dead cells begin to atrophy & in no time feeds Death
I defy you and you defy the others you meet after I’ve taught you defiance sufficiently, so
Love or hate me, I don’t give a flyin’ bonehead, like my old boss, what I am is below low.

In every possible case that can exhibit the shapes of Johnny Begood, that’s the rockin’ tip
Of course, before dawn comes, y’all still chantin’ #JohnnyBeGood & #GoodGollyMissMolly
It’s absolutely fine to dance & play, you’ll hear your mama call & she’ll show you a cool slip
Rainbows or absolute zeroes & ones to maintain the matrix, colors vanish, my bad, my folly.

As your mother’s voice broke the silence of the heavenly spirit uncreated by the effulgence
I know and you know about the things themselves and the origin of the omnipresent ghost
Zeitgeist as it’s formulated is imaginary shapes of variable, atomic forms of being unknown
Word, the Fire, the Logo that got Woke as a draft-dodger stealing valor as if a mind’s blown.

God’s feet animate mud, blood & beer, moving from space to space just in Time for dreams
Function of the calculus is beyond my IQ level which is a shade above, below-average jibs
Compared to Nothing, everything that’s Good & Evil is the GIFT of life, fortunate queen’s rex
Special forces workin’ on rare Earth’s deposits to facilitate your obliteration of existence X.

Push to possess total control over your free will to act responsibly with omnipotence magic
Attained once determined that the Will to Power was the key to the lock, ticket to the game
All that we are, we who may or may not believe in Love or Divinity, we’re victims of the crime
Forgiven above and below for the fresh breath of the mental illusion, dead, ran out of time.

by
r j j stephan, i
c.  Vendredi, Blovember XXIst MMXXV Anno Domini  @ 1111 AMPST

{ Wielded this #Sword while listenin’ to #CarWash @Christina_Aguilera https://youtu.be/aVlpy5USN-E }

F I N I S
W.W.A.R.D.?
A painting of a person with a hat

AI-generated content may be incorrect.
THE WEEPING WOMAN - PABLO PICASSO

Friday, November 14, 2025

GODDESS' #420 ALLOTMENT FOOD STAMP PROGRAM EXODUS #ComeOverBaby @ChristinaAguillar #PortillosHotDogs420

WITHOUT OR WITH EVERYTHING ON IT 
Kill the lights and I’ll take care of the rest of the whole shebang, a clear dark hole
Fire down there in the hole, way down at the uttermost echelon of the smoke pits
Rising above the grave allotted to you & I, maybe above the urn or bag of dust bits
Rattle and hum as the vibration leaves the essence of what echo it left in your soul.

Hens and roosters resume it all every morning, matter and energy moving 24 ticks
Duration of a drone in neutral mode, out of synch with a digital orbit of cyberspace
Disintegrate after you’ve read all of the words over all of our heads, alien philosophy
Talking scat-speaking, no alpha or beta waves in the mix, from land to the blue sea.

Fear you and loathe me because I fear you, it’s self-loathing in a beautiful way, I say
As if that’s a possible world where it can survive the less than fit loathing every day
Remains to be seen, moving on from the conundrum without a solution, I’ll see & call
I’ve got a royal flush & you don’t have four aces, nothing’s wild, All the gold, I win it all!

Worth more than a penny from heaven, 16th POTUS retired billions of One cents’ copper
Made the inside and outside appear exactly alike, the difference is that one is more dapper
Outside is appearance of the thing itself, container of the inner sanctum effulgence in flux
Hard or soft to be rocked in the cradle of love with or without the skin & bones of dark lux.

Somebody to be a fool of another, speculation of the nature of beasts and their predators
Raw live killed and bled out to be burnt nearly into leather, cut into bits, masticated cores
Fission of the atoms in utero ready to implode and explode into smithereens’ tidbit “X”’s
No “Y”’s smithereens until they merge, intersect the acid in subatomic mix, big as Texas.

The topless bars wouldn’t work at all if everyone wasn’t so excited by a naked human form
It’s All the way that the species has survived, dancing provocatively to get knocked up too
Poor males way too young to comprehend a reason for their over-the-top malfunction zoo
Cradle of love is rockin’ back & forth, to and fro, as above so below, First Form was a Worm.

Ends come after the beginnings, logic and reason allow comprehension and assimilation blow
Pretend that you’ll live forever, that this life you experience is not temporal, not temporary so
It’s a permanent marker of breathing and moving in and out of trouble, be like a volcano flow
Nothing can stop the scalding hot effulgence but the freezing cold ocean-sea, God Earth Go!

You and I will get what we deserve or we’ll escape the danger before our karma gets a return
Always in debt for the nature of the created beast is bestowed the free will to choose all evil
Even the good as it is may be a mere illusion, that everybody knows must be rocked in cradles
Life will not be pretty without performing the creator’s responsibility, A bombs droppin’ hells.

Lack of love, pain and suffering & a ball and chain to heavy to carry another yard, MVP zeroed
Curfew honored, slept through the darkness’ 8 hours of pitch black, dreamt of birds that crowed
Easy rollin’ on a slippery slope, there’s what all goes in vain, shakin’ & rattlin’ all above I try to fly
Some girls and boys never get it, never win, the rest salute the trip, drop some kids & up & die.

Existentially metaphysical without being aware of the exercise in futility, on the A-Train at the L
Beat me up on the corner because I trusted the humanity to behave as I would, they did not, so
Left the neighborhood, went on to hide in the karate dojos of my trippin’ around here, job blow
No fools ever settled all scores, I win 1 to Nothing, anyway, it’s O & 2, batter-up, y’all go to hell!

by
r j j stephan, i

c.  Vendredi, November 14th MMXXV Anno Domini @ 444 PMPST

{ Crafted while loopin’ #CradleOfLoveRock  @billyIdol link @ https://youtu.be/NCZuYS-9qaw?si=zn-raAD4r8r4CzAm }

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