"HOMELESS, THE BLUES & WINGS" #SmarterNotHarderUNLESS ...

HOMELESS, THE BLUES &WINGS

copyright by Richard Joseph Stephan

Friday, July 20, 2018
ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
 

What eats Nothing at all, weakened the @Herd of @Many with the essence of sweet Never

Not that you care or want to be exactly what you are, what you’ve become, what you’ll be

System of the melted, frozen snow from mountaintops, riverlets of your Mother, my father

Dead as the things #DeeBears leave in the woods, on purpose, out of the Way of you & Me.

Checking to see if it’s the case or not, whether you love this planet or even in the #Darkroom

Inside your head’s mind calculates that you’re a mortal, an animated bonebag ‘s mortal skin

Not only the case that I want to be alive forever but also I am here and now in pending doom

Periodic termination of the DNA reproduction in cycle of being and nothingness #Collusion.

Where did your Ego and personality, your being’s mind go at that #NextToTheLast breath?

Read the #Word, nobody knows, they leap to an unconditional assumption that All is well

When it is anything but well, ship of the fools we’re related to on the sea of fictional #Hehl

Space where conscious’ divinity is assumed to be Cause of Good, Evil, Birth, Life and Death.

You are and I am part of the people, places and things we call ‘Them” but the #Floyd is “Us”

Way back when Ignorance was bliss and wisdom, knowledge’s plethora of info-data omnibus

Sacred wisdom your #Mama warned you about, staying away from the rational thought dust

A birth of a #Devadip and dozens of vinyl and compac discs later, still the #Man, hum buzz.

Sweet sweep of a prime broom in Space-Time, mine moves away, I’m guiltless, I am faultless

For no reason, y’all go ahead and pick a number from One to ten and then I’ll terminate clues

Why? Just because I can, like the creator of heaven and earth can do, I will do that, guiltless

Deep, holy holes, asleep at night at an edge of darkness, Carlos Santana ‘s freeway of #Blues.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Friday, July 20, 2018 @ 7:11 AM PST

{ written while listenin’ to Carlos Santana on his #Birthday #7-21-1947 & I personally salute the #Devadip for the many hours of Time spent listening to LIVE & RECORDED versions of #PureLove! Thank you my brother from another mother! #OyeComoVa link on youTube @ https://youtu.be/VYEgCukYZbA } 

 

@CarlosSantana #Devadip

W.W.A.R.D.?

#GoodOldFeeling - @ThreeDogNight GREAT CONCERT LAST NIGHT BOYS!

W.W.A.R.D.?

#BONAROO @ZZTOP & @ACDC #SOULSTRIPPER TIME

BROKEN CONCRETE & ICED CAFE

by Richard Joseph Stephan   *   Wednesday, July 18, 2018

sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

If I tell you that I love you, that’s just common cents but I will call you just a friend to feel

Probably not but there’s no harm in asking, just in case you were lookin’ for such a real deal

Something to sink your teeth into, as an animal does when they really like some form of god

Sculptures of clay and granite, paintings, sketches, poems, stories, novels form this hot rod.

Stuck into the fire and burned until piping, white hot as the sun above the darkness squeeze

Flowering matrix of being, omnibus full of passengers on the way to nowhere’s empty skies

All of it moving in perpetuity to avoid stagnation and annihilation of Being itself, dying guys

Perpetual loneliness of the feeling of Oneness within the horrid and the lovely moon babies.

Picked up all of the pieces I could find scattered about the continents, set foot upon the decks

It’s just a ton of broken concrete askew in a neighborhood of sharp dressed, pregnant ducks

Putting one foot in front of the other and fighting for the rights and privileges of a monarchy

All One present descendant’s DNA coded syllo-gism of cloned DNA, a Hole, Trinity’s divinity.

Moved from restfulness itself, absorbed in the feeling, the concept, an idea out of space-time

Production of evidence that Nothing matters and if it did, who would care to drop the dime

On me or on your mother, your uncle or maybe right on top of your own head, goddaughter

Years and miles from the final departure, ashes back from the stones of this rocky saltwater.

Nobody’ll be left to dream about it, eventually when the species becomes extinct, it’s a tease

Will it be me or you, stranger not even born yet in 2018 AD, maybe 3030 AD, still gittin’ loose

Do not beam the messenger up to the UFO just yet because the message IS a concrete noose

Pussycats in a cup of jacked up white juice, you need it, I need it, iced nuts spiked, yes please.

by

r j j stephan, i { *header is the Cheshire Kat on something like H & 2O, WhiskeyVodka or just plain ole’ #BlackJack Jack Daniel's Tennessee Whiskey }

c. July 18, 2018 Mercredi @ 11:11 PM PST

{ written while listenin’ to ZZ Top LIVE Bonnaroo Music and Arts Festival back in 2013 link @ https://youtu.be/-uZinAmZtJg }

W.W.A.R.D.?