INNERSOUL, CRO MAGNON CAVITY
by
RICHARD JOSEPH STEPHAN· SUNDAY, AUGUST 19, 2018
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Pick me up safety ball, with a new net for the whole set, threads from Italian forms
Playin’ both sides, winner and loser, in order to secure the confidence of One & all
Donned a bonnet of the being who claims humanity is the origin, evolved in a ball
Surface, underground and airborne because it is the Way of the Cell, Unmoved worm.
A peculiar place to be when you’re being begged to retaliate with deadly force, in error
Havin’ skills to penetrate to the heart and grab the breath from the one with flash fear
Of the nature’s force to repel evil and harmful movements, to have deadly force power
Holding it back in the readily recollectible bank of skills until required, to see and hear.
A perception and a conception involving the neutral observer in order to ascertain the gist
Of what it is to be a human, a man, an animal but not a plant, plant and animal consumer
Everything from the salt of the Sea to the tree sap and snow caps of Earth’s Man dreamer
Fallen to sleep, as if fallen from empty space or heaven above the dirty, filthy, cuff of a fist.
You get a hundred years more or less to discover and grasp why your mama killed me dead
Maybe he needed money for some food or a mating tool or just because of the idiot’s head
There was a bald, bloody head runnin’ inside that skull’s frag-bone, blown out black holes
Walked upright on all fours, two to walk the walk, two featherless wings, frozen, iced souls.
Thirty two teeth, sixteen in the upper and the same on the lower settings, all of ‘em fall to stir
Don’t need teeth when a human is a baby and apparently gumming food to death is OK at 68
A move or two at the right time in the right place is the difference between success and defeat
A purple mark right between your blackened eyes, embedded bullseye birthmark’s heartbeat.
Adam fell down here, Cro-Magnon man got buried underground, God’s got no swallow or gag
Threw down everything the universal magnate could conjure in a mixed-up black-magic bag
Apes swingin’ on vines, runnin’ on all fours, climbin’ limbs n’ branches like high monkey bars
It’s all about the bites n’ tears of the meat, the form’s DNA spurts, carnivore lies of lying liars!
by
r j j stephan, i
c. August 19, 2018 Sunday @ 1:11 PM PST
{ written while listenin’ to #ACDC concert in #OaklandCalifornia in 1979 on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/epSe9V5ngeo }
