@TheEAGLES BIPEDAL FLIGHT PATHS @MrCrowley #TarredFeatheredThrownOffTheBridgeOfSighs #BrothersOsborne2 @PINK @LadyGAGA & @SIA @FredericheNietzsche

PRETTY GIRLS' MOTHERS SCOFF

Stars blow up and make stones that sticks grow upon the original foreskin of Zeus'

Loathing and a fearless bravado, pair for the royal flush on the five-card draw blues

Mystic phantom pullin' in the ghosts and other chimera into a crystal inconvenience

Word sounds heard by the herd, vowels A, E, I, O, U & sometimes Y, & consonants.

Bread is not the thing that comes without work, labor for the trade-off for all the stuff

Nobody gets anything for free, orphans or well-bred family denizens, gotta be tough

Without the ability to deflect the powers attempting to consume yours, you're caput

To be or not to be is a choice to make hella long time before you get to the brink's rut.

Blood ain't red until it's spilled into the oxygen, it's purple as holy grapes of wrath

In every case, everybody inherits a set amount, and when you run out on the path

It's all of what she wrote & all you could ever write again, anchovy on a cheese pizza

Feel the beats of rhythm's rock & roll, blues & classical jazz, guitar cries mama mia.

Hearts come in twos, threes & sometimes many more, except the True One, all One

For your edification, the meaning rings a bell and configures all daughters of the son

Backward in Time in this same Space, it's a fortune to be able to read all about it, God

There's something wrong with Creation because the creator has what ain't red blood.

Hence, fearing and loathing everything that's a thing in the matrices of nothing at all

It follows logically that you & I, along with the rest of the good ship lollipop, it'll fall

Maybe not far to hit the bottom, or it may be a bottomless pit that has no final End

Your free will is the illusion; no choice in this life matters, enjoy the trip's mind-bend.

Fountain of alien life forms evolved from eggs of another dimension in Time/Space

A continuum from end to end, encrypted to appear full when the thing is all empty

Hawks and eagles don't know why they fly, but hunger pulls the Humpty Dumpty

Pretending not to be a carnivore, open your plastic and Styrofoam, bloody two-face!

by
r j j stephan, i

c.  Samedhi 6-6-2026 @1755 hours PMPST

{ Magic bald guy with illusory post-historic tricks, check it out, Ozzy Osborne's Mr. Crowley @ https://youtu.be/u2tlWJhKSOE?si=6l5QefMcBMJrqOKt }

CHICAGO (HOME) GOODY, GOODY My book's on Amazon for sale #Signal/Body #GhostedChimera #GittinGhosted ETC, ETC, ETCETERA

 LIVE on AMAZON, YOU NEED A LINK?  YOU GOT IT!  

Last piece of NEW COSMIC PIZZA BOOK OF POETRY JUST RELEASED, LIVE ON AMAZON BOOKS Y'ALL,
HOOK IT UP, LINK BELOW TO AMAZON FOR  YOUR HARD, SOFT, OR E-BOOK, 1st in the Trilogy

 "Signal/Body 

Ghosted Chimera" 

FIREMEN, Y’all

FIRED up For nothing

Pizza pie, no killing anything on Earth to eat & defecate anymore, eaters extinct

Investments in futures have become the disastrous facts of life’s putrid instinct

To live forever isn’t a possible state of being; everything & everyone is temporal

Like the employees who work for wages without benefits, we’re here for the ball.

Breaking bread with the ones who got you to the brink of extinction, that’s amore

To the ends of life, original sins were just a sperm & egg merger, a holy game door

Now, for Buddha, Krishna & Jesus’ job to forsake, Ends justify Means, a supernova

You won’t see it, but you’ll believe it when you’ve got no more IQ mind, Casanova.

Beer and whiskey for the horses we rode from Kansas City to Sacramento, it’s time

To settle down by the river near the gold mines in Coloma, we can moonshine fine

Pizza to die for, music to move the 208 bones in a frenzy, lookin’ for all three steps

Toward the door when you’re unable to see beyond the fist comin’ up on me lips.

Alternatively, there’s no sense in living without a purpose, suckin’ air for nothing

Keeping the eyes on the prize, even if you’re blind as a bat without spectacles on

Being at one with the facts of life & your own history, that’s tantamount to a ring

Remind us all, whichever finger gets surrounded by heavy metal, I’m already gone.

Coming home in a hand basket or ‘nam body bag, either way, I’ll return to the RNA

Morphing 208 bones into cosmic dust, Pete, Paulo & Marie, who had a little lamb

Black fleece as black as stardust mud hiding the diamond in the rough of pizza-pie

Cards and your shoes shuffle in disorder & off-beat, you win some on a white lie.

Dorks and dingbats manufactured for the blame, all idiots aren’t responsible, et al

When you are at One, you’ll know it, multiplicity is The Big Bang’s legacy, we bawl

Then we must help the innocent & wild as they shuffle off to Augusta Blvd beast

From downtown to a boardwalk uptown in the suburbs, anyway, but the far East.

Monkeys trip to pay music, they like to bang & keep beats, player of chrome dome

Wood or metal, stretched skins, beating and swishing for the cows to come home

Bumping around the perimeter, nobody can see with a human perception, an end

Metabolize blacklight blinds, know nobody steps into a river twice, lazy river bend.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Vendredi, May 22nd MMXXVI Anno Domini @ 444 PMPST

{ Requiem For a Lightweight Poet, drafted this while jammin’ to @MichaelJackson HITS link on youTube @ https://youtu.be/XhV3iyLPBr8?si=bF4F41AvMoVDbn4l }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?

PABLO PICASSO

#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

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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.

@MichaelJackson @ThePointersSisters @Xteena @Aguelerra MY FIRST BOOK OF POETRY, VOLUME 1 of 3 YOU ALL BETTER GET 3 COPIES EACH. BEST SELLER OF ALL TIME! @RollingStoneGatheredMOSS @ACDC #SoulStripper @WARtheBand #TheWorldIsAGhettoIndeed

 

@GhostedChimera

@Signal/Body

https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/1KBL1QK9X2QP8?type=wishlist&filter=all&sort=date-added&viewType=list

NO, THANK 'ME' LATER! YOU CAN'T FICTIONALIZE THIS CHIT, MON! @MichaelJackson #BubblesTheChimp #KRACKED

 

CAROL & I ARE GOING TO MONTEREY AD INFINITUM

I broke my halo out at the shore, near Monterey’s Big Sur, Jesus Christ is all gone 
All answers were posited by the guessers who knew nothing, and then they died 
So, we all get the same old chances; if they get any chance at all, it’s up to a one 
On the feet & healthy, strong legs that take the weight, there’s a maximum load. 

I won’t know anything the day I die, & to save some time, already don’t know it 
Flow hot to keep it cool, it’ll seize if you cause friction to be present in your ID 
Gods know nothing more nor less than the minions do, confused, false superego 
Bar fights are over before they start, where I hunt for things that come to blow.

Beginning at the end and leaving the middle to stay at rest in the vacuum, on air 
Where you say what you think & we all agree or disagree with the evil, live stare 
Halls and markets are empty, everything’s broken beyond repair, you know it all 
What becomes of our natural longing for longevity, existence is a chimera ghost.

Victims and the hunters need and want one another, boredom’s ennui last stand 
In front of the fear & behind the malfunction, it’s all that you are, one free Will 
Be an accident of lust of man & woman, it’s the same as a planned day 1 family 
It’s still a murder of crows whether you like it or not; it’s not my call, what’ll be. 

It will be foretelling the story as if it is a means to the Way, Truth about a Pitch 
Never repeat the operation twice, or it’ll go on a roll & it’ll never stop the itch 
Homeless encampments have rats and trash from the many minions of ape ilk 
Education of the young orphans and mistreated children on 5150 parents’ milk.

It may not get better than this, but for certain, it could be worse; it’s been said 
Only you and I know the meaning of life, get hungry, work to eat, or you’re dead 
Not to cast aspersions and blame on the innocent & wild-eyed boys led by nuns 
Fear & loathing of all the above leaves Nothing out, over & done without reruns. 

Heard the herd approaching from the rumble of the ground, vibration warning 
Out of the way of the stampede is not only a good idea, but it’s about surviving 
Even if you hate your place in Space, you still don’t want to stop breathing, et al 
If you go too soon, you’ll return ad infinitum, just do the thing you do, play Ball!

by 
r j j stephan, i 
c. Lundi, May 11th MMXXVI Anno Domini @ 1:11 PMPST

{ Broke this out of the twilight zone while jammin’ to @ACDC’s #SoulStripper on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/CgPgNzQYQQ4?si=xAhobZMRMtoiBTj3 }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?