Saturday, July 07, 2018
A GEM FROM THE MUSE O' MINE on 7-7-18 #WeAreAlone
Please take no offense if the shoe fits and you’re wearing it today or yesterday, OMG Eve
But you made the bed with the snake, the killer, the bite of poison, LSD apple to deceive
Eat the fruit, bite the apple, plant the seeds, grow the feed, masticate, digest and excrete
That’s life, it’s what all the people say over and over again, ad infinitum, I’m an antidote.
Being ahead of the curve and get behind the left or right wing of eco-politico cultural silk
Pills swallowed, elixir drank, powder blown-in, got a head full of clouded perception, milk
Mellowed out and full of the scat you call wisdom and knowledge, temporal void blood clots
Who cares about the SMF’ers on daytime or late night TV, cable news or Troll blogged-spots.
To have the convulsions of the nervous system in public or private, you feel a need to bleed
Learn the A to the Z to spell what you say, to write down what you mean, no reason to plead
An irrelevant time from your birth to your death becomes relevant shaming to a clever exit
Say what you found out while being alive here on Earth, stating opinions then suckling teat.
Not of mothers’ wombs but the teats of the nugatory, void of emptiness, nothing, no atoms
Intrigue the wonder, adolescence to geriatric dysfunction, watchin’ the parade to the ashes
Pretend it’s not right there, in back of you, waiting for guards to sleep, miraculous fiefdoms
Yet, there it is as it always is, within you behind your eyes above your neck, genius and bums.
You will move from here to where ever you will to go, metaphorically, your will will be hid
As above, so below the saying is said by someone who knew/guessed it was the Truth on loan
From dead philosophers, mystics, high and low priests of Cielo and Hades to my humble Id
Earth minds think and write words to be read and understood, humanity is a Divinity’s clone.
by
r j j stephan, I { yo, #Eve “...searchin’ for a heart of gold ( a miner for One ) & I’m gettin’ old...” - Neil Young }
c. Seven-Seven-2018 Saturday @ 4:44 AM PST
{ written while listenin’ to my cyber-program radio station, #RicoRockHard the link was @ https://www.iheart.com/favorites/ricorockhard-46905630/ }
Thursday, July 05, 2018
"PURPLE ROSE OF THE VILLE"
"PURPLE ROSE OF THE VILLE"
Richard Joseph Stephan·Thursday, July 5, 2018
sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
It’s not all about Roseville, it is about a rare flower in the population of poppies and sativa
I still want the Cubs to win the World Series again, something’s wrong with me, ma and pa
Nothing is wrong with my body or mind it’s the thoughts I’ve had about things themselves
Nobody in particular, nobody’s mother, father, sister, brother or friend forced my will to bow.
On being backed up against a wall in a situation or two and then moving on, it’s done, it’s fine
Thing is, man I’ve become, son of my WWII swabbie dad and USO dancin’ mom’s jitterbugin’
Purple rose all alone, one of a kind immortal petals that are immune to the air’s dysfunction
Gas and protein coming from a Big Banger before I arrived, my egocentric one, selfish origin.
I had the high hopes dashed that remained after the Big Bang of the universe’s matter, blew it
All of the expectations evolved from the impossible to the highly probable, guessing a bit
Nobody but the priests believe the blind faith in the invisible presence, creator’s all-extinct
The One who made the purple rose from an empty seed, DNA spunk, drain down the sink.
A confidence man to keep the flow moving in the movies, the films, the cinema mocking life
Pretending that the celluloid means something more than Reality’s appearance to perception
Eating, wasting away to each spin of the wobbling relic of glue-like astral filth, husband’s wife
Mother Earth, Father Sun, a periwinkle-Nothing, a Void of human God’s invisible, clear skin.
Lower expections cancelled high hopes of heroes and old lemmings, speeding, decelerating it
The fact that the sky is actually no limit at all is merely what #Up looks like when snow blind
That is not a problem, like other facts ignored until the things waste away, I may be an idiot
Ain’t my fault, nothing to do with #PurpleRose genes, my faraway encounter of the 3rd Kind.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. July 5, 2018 @ 6:44 AM PST
{ written while listenin’ to witless, worthless, innane #TalkRadio on Talk 650 KSTE with the Armstrong & Getty Listeners #FullInsomnia }
#ONENESS @SANTANA
#WTFWouldAynRandDo? #WWARD
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