P H I L O S O P H I A

Wednesday, September 12, 2018

#DownUpSideways #InsideOut

{'his' Rico's muse}

SPACEPORT IN THE HIGHLANDS

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, September 12, 2018

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If you can look in the mirror and see nothing but the skin and bones I see, you’d be shakin’

Got the dreams of the seventh sons right here inside the center of the vortex’s commotion

It’s all sweet and the best of the Good and it all came from a look in a fine girl’s eyes moves

Heartaches made no difference because the positives outweighed my own negative grooves.

It burned the whole way down after I chugged way more than a skunk’s last call for whiskey

Straight without rocks or chasers, down the hatch and jumped into God’s alternate reality

Space where nobody can recollect after they go there, remain there for hours and not expire

Death to all souls is #LastCall of night and day on Earth, a burnin’ moment to adore Hellfire.

Milk and homemade cookies full of love and dates, nuts and sugar, eating candy to get high

Not able to contain the reaction to the sugar from the 1950’s to the 20 teens, dropped a dime

Easier than water fallin’ over a cliff, I laid my five foot eleven frame over the spill, I did #fly

Went head over heels, tumbled over Niagara Falls and flew for the last Space of my Time.

Heartaches deep down in the soul can’t be felt from this place where I’m sittin’ just as above

No alcohol or plant burning required for decision to obfuscate the Truth, to be a lyin’ freak

Like rivers flowin’ down from the melted snow caps and rain of the plains, hearts do break

Hearts are weak organs, without rib cage protection, they can be broken in two, #FakeLove.

Here’s a philosophical gem for your unfortunate arse to muddle in, it’s a six foot four chump

Drunk as outlaws in a saloon after robbin’ the bank in town, spendin’ the money of workers

People who worked to save up for their dreams to come true get nothing, outlaws’ filth dump

Perfection and defecation are all that’s left from A to Z, you got this? I know, last call, BURN!

r j j stephan, i

c. September 12, 2018 Wednesday @ 9:11 AM

{ written while listenin’ to some HITS of random chaos Osborne Brothers #ShootMeStraight link @ https://youtu.be/cAAVj6nnIUs }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#EbonyEyesCry @ricoSacto #ricoSacto

BY INTENT ONLY, MOULON LAB

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, September 12, 2018

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There is no luck involved if you have ice magic at your fingertips, fortune is illusion’s rift

Setting the mind’s intention on the object to be subjected to absorption and metabolization

That’s all it takes, mind set and go to the target’s bullseye, works every time, a parting gift

Turning the love you gather from sainthood through adulthood and back, uptown mortal sin.

In a pyramid or tetrahedron there is nothing to see the form from the inside, they are nothing

Special lines drawn between random dots in space to mark one place or another, you knew it

All mathematics and philosophy downloaded into the matrix, reformed in a data dump’s pit

According to the babble and stone tomes’ etchings in cave wall fire-lit shadows, a lord’s ring.

Fear and loathing the remnants of being left all alone in a hostile environment without tools

Only the ingenuity of the DNA inherited by the mitotic division of ma and pop’s gene pools

In a sweet, deep purple attitude that pours into an empty dream’s holy scent, the Sun tastes

Everything that’s everything cannot be nothing at all, it’s a linguistic jingoism for our faces.

Pumping most of my energy into manufacturing this world from what it was before I arrived

That is one First Cause that’s impossible to avoid, what this world was without you or anyone

Just some dirt spinning, wobbling, revolving around the source of it’s being, God stayin’ jive

Language and culture delivery systems of the babble, so lucky to be evil, Fuck! It’s All alive!

Used to throw our kind to hungry lions’ in the coliseum because Caesar was all too human

Crusaders knighted up and with swords, armor and honor took the Holy Grail home, man

Everything really isn’t everything after all is said and done, it is something like nothing

All of the things are the product of nothing, the void of space that contains the lord’s ring.

This moment used to be the Future and in a flash it’s the Past, it’s a whole different game-ball

Remember being a teenager forever, drivin’ the family car on Friday night drive-in snorkelin’

Those were the days my friend, I knew they were gonna end, I saw the writing on the FB wall

I need a shot of #JackDanielsBlack to help me shoot straight, burn my heart down the hall.

Not easy when you get the axe from the love of your life, when it’s on the rocks, shoot straight

No watered down or on the rocks mess, down the hatch with blood of Daniels’ whiskey brew

Spirits comin’ out of the walls and the floors and the music rocked the boat ‘til it was too late

Nobody saw it comin’ out my cold, dead hands, turned it down, I made it all burn, I just blew.

r j j stephan, i

c. September 12, 2018 @ 2:22 AM PST

{ written while listenin’ to Florida Georgia Line #MayWeAll & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/8q3ZalsOafE }

 W.W.A.R.D.?

Tuesday, September 11, 2018

#911 @911 Nine-One-One

NINE ONE ONE, #NeverForget

Richard Joseph Stephan·Tuesday, September 11, 2018

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Millennial of this Space and Time results in the bacteria and viral infections in Hades’ stealth

Nothing or something doesn’t matter much when the buildings caved, breathing man’s filth

Chemicals mixed to build the structures that filled the air with Death, present and future slim

Before our very eyes, we can see the Cause and the Effect of the “Ones That Did It” yes, them.

Dream on into daylight with the perpetual nightmare of meeting and greeting with the RAPS

For the sake of the carcasses left to the ones who survived the contact with heaven’s guffaws

Nobody will ever get out of this mellow function without becoming dead ashes’ gaping jaws

Playing the songs until you don’t hear the tune any longer, background noise of the TAPS.

Contentment is paramount to finding the Truth about this trial’s tribulation, nine one one

Way up there at work on that morning, looking for the angels to save the trapped and cryin’

Only suicide remained as a panacea for the idiots who pretended to know God’s name, death

Cursed and unforgiven terrorists resemble the targets in basic training, bulls’ eyes within.

Taps playin’ all day on nine one one, #NeverForget what they did and who they are, their kin

Still want to scrub the infidel from the planet’s surface, nothing has changed, we’re the best

All of the honorable yet futile attempts to become comrades with every species is in distress

I stopped trying to mend chromosomes of the species’ DNA & adapted to a #FakeNews mess.

The Truth is what you’ll never know for certain therefore use the uncertainty to survive here

Everybody isn’t happy so to be happy is an asset philosophers sought long ago, drinkin’ beer

I do, you do, we all do, alas, nevermore can we trust to embrace the unknowns’ ‘x’ factor zed

Even the rich and poor need the air to breathe in and out, to live, to survive, to be once loved.

r j j stephan, i { *NeverForget #NeverForget }

c. September 11, 2001 { a day that lives in infamy )

{ written while listenin’ to TAPS ON youTube link @ http://www.newsweek.com/never-forget-911-three-naval-ships-bear-names-crash-1115558 }

W.W.A.R.D.?