#KillerEightyEights

W.W.A.R.D.?

WELL...YOU KNOW........ #ShootMeStraight  

#MakeItBurn #ShootMeStraight #SeventhSons #FourthDaughters @MamaToldMeWhenEyeWasYoung @MakeItBurn

UNDER AN IRIDESCENT MOON

by

Richard Joseph Stephan
c. · Tuesday, September 4, 2018

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In a change of mind and heart, the blow of death fades from taking over, like Godzilla

It’s not that you don’t want to be immortal and healthy forever until a Rico supernova

Reality is, we all come and we all gotta go sooner or later, but for sure it rings a bell

Nothing will survive either a century more or less, not even a vampire, not an angel.

I ain’t gonna let it get me down, just ‘cause I got a table for two and only One will die

Lonely rooms everywhere in every house from Tupelo to Tallahassee, tons of smokin’

Guns and rifles and plants rolled into cigars, bullets, gunpowder, girls and whiskeyin’

What I’ve done, I can’t remember it all but it was always light of the neon moon and I.

For the first and last time, the absolute Truth about the reality of origins, a third eye’s door

Heaven and Hell are the illusions of the frustrated monks and all brothers who come and go

In their haste to conclude the wonder, conclusions have been bleached, on the ground floor

With accidental fortune and a primal brain-full of mind, philosophy emerges for a deep blow.

Found nothing that I’ve ever lost because the found is valued as a deserved recompense

For the things that you’ve lost and never have found, nobody cares or remembers nonsense

Into the mystic, the clouds part and the absolute clearness of the sky let’s the spirit rise to fly

Out of the atmosphere, this world, jacked jaws wide, now so what, too dang high to tell a Lie?

Hillbillies and city slickers tryin’ to teach me how to be in Chicago or Maui, a little coonsmile

For the sake of Good, Bad and the Ugly the show must go on, immerse my love in dark holes

I saddled up when I was just a boy, rode off into a sunset, never went back to holy lake bowls

Born, raised urban cowboy, speedin’ in the city, past beer country moons, my irridescent pile.

by

r j j stephan, i { Blown dust off of the bible mixed with a Harvey Wallbanger yields 2P2O5 ! }

c. September 4, 2018 Tuesday @ 5:55 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to @DavidLeeMurphy #DustOnTheBottle & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/uNkF_ZpQ4eg }

#MakeItBurn  #ShootMeStraight   #ComeOn #WWARD.?

#Adventureland @WelcomeAboard

SKIPPY DAM 

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Monday, September 3, 2018

For the alpha test of the journey between here, there, now and then, we’re a liquid black hole

Moving the Unmoved Mover from East to West, clockwise if observed from a northern pole

Counter clockwise below the equator in the Southern Hemisphere’s point of below, as above

My spirit, my consciousness, my memory, my imaginary self, non-existent prior to #Love.

Featureless and without motion, the #BigBang produces the distance between dusk & dawn

Musk of my odoriferous scent embalmed in my RNA, mitochondrion hypochondriac of dirt

Boredom, ennui of my father’s labor, creative urge to animate the given tabernacle of spawn

Recently awakened from the pretenders’ who hawk the blind faith, become extinct, to abort.

In the field of this matrix, you die in the middle of liking the being you’ve become, a #Hitman

Taking care of other people’s business that they cannot engage, elimination of denominators

Uncommon numerators and diminished sevenths in a hodgepodge of muddy blood of a bird

Drunken women and men, more than I need, more than you can imagine, downshift to 3rd.

Dam behind the wall of empty rocks and jagged rolls, it’s all you need to get wet and cold

In and out of the current, flowing like soft silk, currents and eddys below the pebbled beach

For the sake of the California dreamer, I become silent at the climax of the ORIGIN’s mold

Needles and spoons left for the ones who can’t survive in the strangling strangeness, I teach.

Burning and freezing here for a sort of repayment for disobedience or impudence of who?

Distant relative way beck in the day when everything was cool, no Jesus, just man’s booze

Nothing and nobody in between, to save us from our natural feelings and actions, fake news

I got some and you want a little bit, we can scratch one another’s back and lick our fuzzballs.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. September 3, 2018 @ 2:44 PM Monday

{ drafted listenin’ to # BozScaggs on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/5wNKQ7RRXfk } 

W.W.A.R.D.?