*Bootstompin' HIGH HOPES FOR THE BOYS 'ROUND HERE *

SPUNKY, DOWN BY THE RIVERSIDE

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Saturday, July 28, 2018

 

It was difficult to be a dead end kid, the downside is you had to feel the pain, upside’s the sun

Still shining in Darkness because it’s easy for a burning, hot star to do what it is that stars do

Inside or outside of the atoms, molecules and charm, it’s all One and the same, One for All

One, two, three as it goes on to ad infinitum, back to the Space where I used to play baseball.

I threw the ball, I caught the ball, I hit the ball, I kicked the ball, I shot the balls in holy holes

I didn’t want to but the facts are, I came here to be the best and I am, The Best, the very best

If I was any better I’d have to acquire amnesia to forget about it, y’all I’d be your rubber souls

Take you to the cleaners before you know it, workin’ it and usin’ cash for the loving, I digress.

Awake after bein’ asleep forever or a longer time than I planned, years, decades, eons of Time

But now I’m whistlin’ at all of the sights I’m seein’ walkin’ around the churches and state fair

Prayed I’d get down to rivers where silver, gold n’ diamonds hide ‘neath God’s 10 cent dime

Runnin’ from sleepin’, hungover from last night’s backwoods binge, chew tobacco in my hair.

Lower that fist down by your side and unclench your bung, release the blood and red mud

Survived the birth and death, the ways of the masters and the slaves followed to the graves

Chewed the tobacco and smoked it too, like I knew I should, makin’ smoke inside my pud

Backwoods or concrete jungle, Iowa or Alabama, your mama lived and she died, we slaves.

Wanting it to be a different way than history has displayed to the boys ‘round here, forget it

Former and latter makes me the One in the middle, using the Will to the power, God’s Zeus

Amazing grace and sin that came from either an erupted gas ball or a mental conflagration

Occult ad infinitum, holy jeans and muddy boots of red dirt roads and all, ‘too legit to quit.’

by

r j j stephan, i

c. July 28, 2018 @ 11:11 AM PST

{ drafted while watchin’@TheDailySign #TheDailySign Music As Language in The ASL Club at Sac State listenin’ to some Blake Shelton #BoysRoundHere on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/_Sc4mxQE8Y8 }

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#ROCKIN' #ROLLIN' #LetsRoll

ROLLIN’ BENEATH, AIR BASE WING

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Friday, July 27, 2018

Flyin’ objects you cannot identify and your feet are still grounded in mythology of dead men

High highfalutin’ kings of the spades, hearts, diamonds and billy clubs, enforce, pretend club

Like this is normal, to live and die and not know why, to jump to an uneducated conclusion

Once there, staying deep in the bottom, near the Mariana Trench toward the core of the hub.

Perform One’s dance, reproduce DNA genomes from an dubiously dubbed creation, Big Bang

Keep your idiots and morons in sight, civilize the savages and force obedience to a law’s fang

Explore the unknown and get to the end before you fade to the Blackness, the Void’s sponge

Putting my wheels’ rubber to the asphalt is all I cared about on the maiden voyage of grunge.

Playing the things that got me to @Nirvana and the #StairwayToHeaven provide on the glide

From the slippage out of the open wound of Woman into the mockery scars of Man, God lied

Waiting for the Word to prove the existence of the unseen based on the imaginary hope of Id

Deep within the mental process of this human, you and the rest of the brood, did what I did.

I deny that anything other than my mother and father having coitus’ diamond, meddling in

Love is what I got, teachin’ this mythological inheritance is rational, a One, above and below

If you were the creator of the universe, you would not make the third stone from the sun now

Too late, Space n’ Rat Race have become #TheGoat, #LetsRoll, I am what It is, an extinction.

Once the chant has begun it cannot end without the reason for it beginning in the first place

To heal the wounds of existence, the struggle to survive on a hostile planet of viral infection

Bacteria to overwhelm everyone and everything under the sun, plant, animal and the rockin’

Sounds of the amplified string plucks and animal skin tight beatings, cashing in the grace.

Around dead man’s curve or in the wild blue yonder, it matters to no one, it means nothing

Fools move about the rooms, separated by the empty bags of bones, spirits and souls, King

Queen puts you in mate on sixty-four squares, eight by eight, dark or white checkin’ pawns

Completed superman and superwoman philosophies, one chain, one prison, seminal songs.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. July 27, 2018 @ 1:11 PM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to Bette Midler #BeMyBaby & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/OewqBtA3nv4 }

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