#WitchesHallow #HappinessIsFlyingInARollsRoyce

I THINK THAT’S MY DAD! WHAT IT IS?

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, October 30, 2018

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That man right there, he really does look like my dad, a bit tricky to treat you on Halloweens

Dark eyes a little bit different but the rest is exactly like him, as the wind does, we just blow

I was about two months old the day he died, he was about twenty, reduced to smithereens

Compared to this present day, he would have been the #BlackPanther or the #WhiteShadow.

With a fix on your life and limb, you are the last man and last woman in the solar system

Make the Earth your home and propagate the seeds to make life grow and thrive, civilize

In concert with the origin of species which you are, keep that the occult mystery of flies

Maggots and spaghetti who thrive on the refuse and recycling of the wasted fuel’s orgasm.

Cleaned of the wrong-minded conclusions which follow from invalid premises’ deductions

Back to the origin of species when wonder about the matter and hunger, why such a pout?

Mortal or venial and possibly original, garden of Eden type of hereditary, witches potions

Compared to normal, as above so below, during a storm there’s turmoil within and without.

On the day when the souls of the faithfully departed who’ve rested in peace, quake the yard

Graves’ piles of muddy, rocky dirt begin to wave like the ocean surf does with tide inbound

Out of Mother Earth, living corpses rise because the undertaker hid bones in shallow ground

Inner peace in your neighbor’s hood, heart and soul, I’m all, criminally sane, praise the lord.

It is thrilling to say the least when you get scared and you know it’s pretend, as opposed to

Reality animates the body, bones, the emotion and until the heart ceases to raise an eyebrow

When it’s dead and gone, it deteriorates and festers into a subject, buried, creepy ghosts too

Backdoor slammed behind me but it opened up again, enter this monster of August ‘51 stew.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. MARDI, ROCKTOBER 30, 2018 @ 3:33 PM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to Michael Jackson strut-slam-boogie on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/rmCA3qQkqso }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#VirulentViralRNA #VoidDNA #Thriller #RockStarWannabe

W.W.A.R.D.?

DOWN WITH ALL SAINTS’ SOULS

xoxo

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Monday, October 29, 2018

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I don’t want to scare anyone today with a nightmare I have every night, I wake up over here

In this dream you apparently have determined and believe without certainty, that I do care

But I don’t care, you really don’t care if it’s a choice between your life on Earth’s ancient bone

You can’t make this bovine excrement up out of thin air, they wrote on planetary rock stones.

How the Word was made flesh is a #BigBang theory of #BlindFaith in a #Creed from UFO’s

Dead folks, some grateful and some not so much, left you and I the explanation for ‘x’ factors

You might be an orphan or an adored son or daughter of lovers who willed you in a DNA code

Acid burns and creates something from nothing but a burn, feel the burn, make it burn mode.

The #Firemen from the #Bowery got this mode, historical before a civil war reb stovepipe hat

Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library & Museum #FakeCore, Billy The Butcher got you fat

Revolution of Billy the Butcher in the Bowery, model-T #Ford and Space Exploration in Time

Bowery Boys and the POTUS had a little tiff and here we are, All American, a World War #9.

Since people are unknown except for remnant bones and words, that’s all there is, a final end

There is no reason to breathe more than the breath you get lucky enough to cop a sneak away

From the ozone and the atmosphere of the mentally challenged, a responsible, narrowed way

Down saints’ middle paths, a styth appears to the starving stomachs, Adam’s Eve is still dead.

by

r j j stephan, i  #GodSpeed @GodBlessTheDamned

c. LUNDI, ROCKTOBER 29, 2018 A.D. @ 8:88 AM PST

{ DRAFTED while listenin’ to the #DynamicDuo Armstrong & Getty 0600-1000 AM PST & for the commercials, can’t wait for the Conscience of the Nation’s #TwoCents link @ https://www.iheart.com/live/talk-650-229/?autoplay=true&pname=15400&campid=header&cid=index.html & for breaks in the action listenin' to @TheAllmanBrothers #FillmoreEast 9-23-1970 link @ https://youtu.be/oeLDLVImwYA }

  #AdInfinitum

W.W.A.R.D. ? #ShipAhoy #MotionOfTheOcean #HungryBirds #LiftThatBale #CrackTheWhip #NobodyIsMyMaster #IAMNobodysSlave @ricoSacto #ricoSacto

 

WHERE YOU GONNA GO, BUSTER?

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Sunday, October 28, 2018

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Steppenwolf fingers of Family’s right here and now, smiling at me playin’ The Fool, a beggar

Different from the Others in gene pools of neutrons, protons and electrons, mama holds dear

Satisfaction’s never guaranteed woman, no money back, golden ring is God’s demigod blood

A flow out north and south poles, my lucid dream sold to a white boy in a backwater flood.

Some sons of does do run with herds of spiked bucks, roaming without purpose, live to die

No purpose it seems other than to run, to avoid being eaten alive or worse, a trophy for Moe

To be or not is an option for none other than the human naked ape, a la mode of apple pie

I can still hear the basement door creak when the hinges were swung open, Homer’s below.

No spirits stick on matter, used and consumed, beware of smiles and backstabbing googles

Liberty from the northern and southern banks of extinct Americans-Asians, prenatal survival

Compared to the freezing cold, naked and hairless skin of ancestors worshiping Ra & Baal

We’re the gods that we thought came dropped a dime on our ancestors and left us struggles.

If you have eyes to understand the nature of destiny’s reality, a search to breathe in and out

You suck it in, chew and spit it out into leagues of muck and mire, spirit son of a sea biscuit

In and out of the air, all around the whole shebang of matter and energy, go hug-out doubt

Can’t make Man or God out of bread and wine, respect to knock-off hydroponic honey bees.

Sweet, warm, bitter, cold, #FakeNews unknowns of this Yin’s and Yang’s real serendipity, GA

Trees consume carbon dioxide and exchange it for exhaust, this oxygen we suck as if cream

Mystery of the deaf-dumb sensory perception of mankind, resolved in seizure of this dream

Look and see a UFO blink152, Persia-Greece-Romano category imperatives, Mazda Zeus’ Ra.

All these verbs, nouns, articles, adjectives of interjections nobody wise or idiotic ever finds

There’s an empty, black void between linguistical hell, good-evil hands in mine, angel minds

Doors never existed to block exits or entry, being Space’s place where Nothing is God’s face

Godsend, a burned core, #BlackHole dancin’ with a hot #SuperNova , my Void, All My Space.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. ROCKTOBER 28th, 2018 A.D. @ 7:11 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to #Backstabbers by the #MightyMighty The O'Jays HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/hzTeLePbB08 }