P H I L O S O P H I A

Tuesday, August 07, 2018

#PostPartemImpressionism #SavoyBrown #Satch & #SRV

NOTE WELL: "@SATCH SHRED OF COSMIC DANK, DARK, GOOEY, STICKY & POTENT " {originally DRAFTED ON @Facebook & censored by the #FacebookNaziCensor & had to CHANGE the name for the politically correct #FACEBOOK to:

#SHREDDED #CENSORS #WORDS

by
Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, August 7, 2018

If you knew what I know you would be ridiculous and I mean in a very good way, not too bad

It’s a matter of going back and forth to the watering hole and drinking lemon-lime Kool-Ade

Prior to the first F sharp and G flat merging into one and the same note’s sound of silent tone

You here, with me now? You’re a momentary planetary consciousness, an ego’s skin n’ bone.

No reward for being such a good boy and girl, a good woman and a meticulously perfect man

Your fortune is that you are here and now at all, in a universal ionic lapse of critical reason

Completely in the infrared zone below the absolute void, where the nugatory rules nothing

Mothers and fathers excreted the revolution, intelligence in the cyborg’s cemetery plotting.

Ready for the end of the days of your and my life when nobody will care about us any longer

Nobody will even wonder what you’re doin’ in the box underground, or in the ashes rained

From the clouds of heaven that never leave for outer space, always contained the #Graceland

Mind’s eye not in the middle of my head but in yours, in your will to power, in the quicksand.

You will die, I promise, it may not be before me but for certain, after me, quite gentlemanly

All you can do is cry, just like the old Savoy Brown jam, if it hits home, just love insanely

Never give up the feeling, even if there’s nobody else human around, grab a dog or hooker

Either way, get something alive in your arms to generate the verve or get to an undertaker.

Think about the sheriff and the law enforcement like it’s your dads and moms, all cousins

All the people go to school to learn the ABC’s and the morals of the culture, society’s norms

Violations are discouraged and depending on the infraction, punished for the severe sins

Doing ‘it’ to others, harm and death, stealing private property, fencin’ it to buyback worms.

It is urgent and it is a necessary condition for the reason and the rhyme, with or without you

It doesn’t matter whether you like it or not, the Truth is the Truth, there’s nothing you can do

Whether you’re a wise philosopher, a quiet clown or patriot fool, all of us live for God’s drool

Pink, blue, purple to ultraviolet hue in a discreet scent of bull scat at the bottom of a cesspool.

r j j stephan, i { #Shreds of Satch #ConscienceOfTheNation }

c. August 7, 2018 Tuesday @ 11:11 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to #TimeDoesTell by Savoy Brown & #HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/3dQ9H4XrhMs & Joe Satriani #AlwaysWithMeAlwaysWithYou & #HITS link @ https://youtu.be/VI57QHL6ge0 }

 W.W.A.R.D.  ?

Monday, August 06, 2018

#FatherOfMine #FatherOfYours #AMotherphqrr

MOTHER’S FATHER OF US ALL

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Monday, August 6, 2018

No fear inside the head, nothing at all other than a wisp of sewer wind, flowin’ in me for fun

Popped up and dropped down into the deepest gully grooved into the crevasse, it’s a scheme

Not that you’d ever know if I didn’t mention it, your mama and papa didn’t say a thing, son

You thought you were a special thing, a thing itself, apart from your form of skin and bone.

Gold in the veins of the dead star’s essence, still moving the super cosmic filth ball around

In relative circles, nearly escaping the gravitational pull but then always returning to the hole

Where the star sun generates its essence and effulgence for the sustenance of your empty soul

Playin’ the games and the music until the end is near, then losing the laughter, giggle sound.

A hit or a miss every year, every summer, every fall, winter and spring but always feels good

Alternatives are unacceptable, for instance, disease, death, pain, suffering, nagging, no food

Therefore, logical and rational as I am, I choose to hunt and store food for the duration of me

When I die, no surprise, my jaw’ll gape open like everyone else, eyes wide open but can’t see.

Supreme love for the process of the evolution of Space and Time and the embedded heroes

Ones that nobody will ever forget because the legend is monumental compared to the blows

Everybody takes them, uppercuts, right crosses, jabs, punches in the ribs, kidneys and groin

On the way down for the count, knocked out but happy in the disease, God’s flippin’ a coin.

Programmed to stop and hold up the process at the fork in the road, nobody can ever go back

From Motown to a City of Angels, round back through Dallas, Baton Rouge, NYC and Chi-T

No 800 numbers to dial for help, no 411 on speed dial, just final blinks, a stain out of whack

Like you’ve done since a teenager, super-kid bloomed out of a puddle of mud by the wet sea.

r j j stephan, i

c. August 6, 2018 Monday @ 11:11 AM PST

{ written as I drifted into a PLETHORA OF CRISPY SMOKE in the California skies & listenin’ to Uncle Kracker on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/06WM8oLH87M & @Everclear #FatherOfMine #MyDaddyGaveMeAName #ThenHeWalkedAway on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/kkcbxjWG9Mc }

W.W.A.R.D. ?

Sunday, August 05, 2018

ALPHA-HOOD KNIVES & SUBOORDINATE SWORDS

ALPHA-HOOD KNIVES & SUBORDINATE SWORDS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, August 5, 2018

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

Who in the heaven and hell do you think you are, monkey-man? You are hot dust

Nothing more than the remnants of a burned-out, holy host of the powerless rust

No imagination beyond the storage of images within the convoluted immateriality

Our mothers do this to us, all of the mothers on Earth do this to their love deity.

I’m not the one who’s been doubting everything to do with propositional, formal logic

I have recovered my faith in something immaterial, godlike in it’s informal rhetoric

A punk runs this whole show, there’s no doubt about anything at all, the soul soars

Beyond the boundaries of the planets’ revolutionary malfunction, goddess’ of #Oars.

Keep in mind or keep in the body, it’s all one and the same, we gotta keep ‘em separated

For the sake of the great, great grandfathers and grandmothers who surprisingly mated

With the studs who won the battles and wars of adolescence and kept it on the QT, salutes

A savior was nothing but a man who honored the swords and knives turned into the flutes.

Your opinion has no bearing on whether or not I’m right or wrong regarding my high horse

I do ride deep in the saddle with my booted spurs in the stirrups, a galloping, trotting force

If I succeed at persuading nobody but my friends and countrymen of which I have a million

I shall have become the first and only person in my family of immigrants to cancel the Sin.

Original One and an #OriginalSin of #Pride and #Disobedience to your daddy, your maker

Creator of heaven Earth gets perturbed and mixes up the Mother’s chilly air and dirty water

Yesterday’s troubles, tomorrow’s recollections of The Way, a path with a disturbing dilemma

Sun shines, then one foot in front of the other until The Boss’ epic finale, embed it, phuqnA!