#VoidNull #Just AHag #DragRacingGod #IGotYourSix @ricoSacto #ricoSacto #ScreamForYou

@NickelbackRules

DRAG RACING GOD, GOT YOUR SIX

by

Richard Joseph Stephan  ·  Monday, October 15, 2018

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You will never be able to live it all down, the karma will follow your great grandkids to Heck

Right where the cosmic and galactic ooze wants us to be, here, now in ignorant bliss’ Hitech

Chains of fools from Maine to Mexico and boomerang ‘round to Australia and hills of Nepal

It’s not anybody’s fault, there is no free will yet there is a myth that we have It, we don’t pal!

I said prayers for all of y’all before I stopped belief in the unknown Occult of God’s humanity

Sending sons of God, or a son of a God, a savior to save us from a human nature in our DNA

What in the holy name of all that survived the #BigBang are we going to talk about now, then

Space around the visible and intellectualized planet Earth, flat as a dotted line at a lion’s den.

What it is exactly though, these visions if you’re not blind, watchin’ it all rock steady, in synch

From side to side and up above, so below where we are, it happens because it must be, a stink

What a fink is exactly is precisely the unknown factor which will be unveiled, all in One byte

Maybe you might want to put some shades on or at least close your eyes to avoid violet light.

Innocent of the reason why we’re all sittin’ pretty down here in the Hollar Back Girls country

Above the River Sacramento, bottom of Love’s gold deposit, El Dorado mine, I declare see?

Claim’s mine, snapped my fingers, dug down into the red dirt, lookin’ for the divine soul cups

Full of shine in darkness’ light, all the same, all just star dusted, incredible freeway funkups.

Jumped in kind of late and the train was movin’ way too slow so I got a hotrod on the freeway

Speeding over a hundred in a white steed of 350 horses under the hood, rollin’ along my day

Go, go and I’m gone, on the entrance to the turnpike, the expressway, tollway, they’re all agog

We’re all lame, I think winged angels are in synch, before we drown, they come, Oh My God!

This ain’t a party, it’s a raw feeding frenzy, a festival of eating and transforming mastications

From one form into another, consummation of the animals and plants, excreting mortal sins

That’s all that is left after all is said and done, whether you’ve reproduced your DNA or not

Our DNA survived God’s random, natural selection as above, so below, only Strong survive.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. One Oh One Five on the ROCKTOBER 2018 4:44 AM, Every Morning, or not!

{ drafted while listenin’ to Lightnin' Hopkins - The Blues on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/w49zuggg4PM }

W.W.A.R.D. ??

#RulesRegulationsAndYoMama @ricoSacto, #ricoSacto

DEPOSITS WITHOUT RETURN

BY Richard Joseph Stephan·Sunday, October 14, 2018

A pocket full of silver dollars, #HardWork mined out of the ore in Sierra’s #Oro ground Down inside the holes made by the atomic bombs blown down to the center, soul-core Pretending to be the joker who is the First Cause of the Earth planet’s #Hole, bored Knowing that it is coming makes no difference in the long run, caput is all goin’ down. Shooting bullets with the loaded gunpowder in a sanguine St. Valentine’s Day massacre Doesn’t do the end of a #DeepState any justice at all, you and I won’t witness it in any case It’s a fool’s paradise and we all get a short ride on a fast train, before you know it, it’s over Stuck in a middle with you and the other jokers means nothing to anyone but a dog face. Stick your ticket in the slot, pretend it’s not your rent or your baby’s formula, gettin’ to win That’s all that counts, even if you lose a hundred to win twenty back, in the end it’ll all begone Nobody wins, everybody but the #House loses the #EarnedCash, Household of immortal sin What joke of a game can a One foist upon its own creation, #YourDaddy’s rules to live long. It’s no picnic on the park or the court benches, either you sleep in the sun, homeless bent Or you commute from your mansion to the super courthouse, to work the law of a Godsend Guys voted in and guys behind the guys voted in all combine for the #Incubi that pretend To be or not to be ain’t the only question, it’s an illusion like #Superman being Clark Kent. Brilliant disguises mean only that One may deceive the minions for eras, centuries of deceit In the words written by a Deadman or three, in foreign languages that died with the old boys Utter devastation or elation combine for the effulgence of bric-a-brac you love and need it #JustWin Bulls, Bears, Cubs, White Sox, Blackhawks, home of bad smells, Chicago, Illinois. by r j j  stephan, i

c. #ROCKTOBER 14, 2018 @ 9:11 AM PST {drafted watchin’ 12 MovieScenes @ https://youtu.be/01sy410NaUU  & #PartDeux @ https://youtu.be/iEOBouFE7X8 }

W.W.A.R.D.?

THIS GUY'S EYE is SOMEWHERE ON A BEACH IN KAUAI, HAWAII & YOU?

THE WRAITH.  WHO?  INDEED

 by

Richard Joseph Stephan  ·  Saturday, October 13, 2018

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Numbers and points in space make LOVE timing all wrong, drawin’ bent lines, playin’ tricks

Mathematically certain that the logic will prevail with or without two cents of human chicks

Ones that turned into the many and think about linear formulations of reality’s faux matrix

Questions without answers still being asked as if it matters, you love me, you want me, dicks!

I mean nothing by the words used as name-calling and shaming the ones whom the shoes fit

Other than the persecution of embarrassment for being a superlative rear-void, matter of fact

Just hold on, keep your pants on, there’s a fire but nothing will burn down, it’s fireproof scat

Apparently the opened eyes, wide opened, has caused the Truth to be uncovered for a wee bit.

In other words, whether you’ve thought about it or not, begin to wonder about your purpose

You will find that you have none, not even a clue about your ultimate purpose, except our rot

Turning to dust or staying in the formaldehyde casket until a black hole reverses, god-am plot

Consciousness locked into a tail spin, then a head spin, then just evolving the revolving boys.

Mothers can’t do anything other than hatch the eggs, they have no behavior control over God

That which they bear from the womb is the product of either divine or random DNA blood

North to South pole matters not one byte, all rocky and blue beautiful, animated second blow

Played in the mess and the cesspools of seven wonders, found somewhere over a rainbow.

An image burned upon your and my retina from a childhood encounter with a UFO, my dad’s

He got out of a cigar-shaped spaceship floated over and said, “Launchpads are on a bonfire!”

“What?” I responded as I got up, moving to finale, exit stage left, spun yo-yo n’ Frisbee fads

My inner confidence overwhelmed both me and the shadow of my former self, I was ‘Dying’.

Then I watched It, the big star get closer as if I was speeding, increasing velocity, infinite Ga

I either got smaller or the sun got bigger but I got those 93 million miles under my red wings

There was nothing left, no hands or feet, no head or torso, not a conscious thought’s holy idea

I can’t and you won’t remember, inhumane torture impossible to recall, beaten up, she sings.

All relatives, friends, mates and lovers totally disappeared from conscious awareness, not sin

Like a magic spell was cast, I was discombobulated beyond doubt, tried to sneak an attic kiss

There were lies told and truths hidden in caves from the product of this solar event, dreamin’

Event horizon’s the final place, ripped space’s fabric, divinity’s magic origins, it is, what it is.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. ROCKTOBER 13, 2018 @ 4:44 PM PST

{ drafted while jammin’ to DELUXE @FleetwoodMac #GoYourOwnWay #Everywhere & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/DubafeFeJ7Y }

 

W.W.A.R.D.?