#LetUsRoll @ricoSacto #ricoSacto @KidRock @GretchenWilson

MY SWEET ICE TEA, HONEYBABY

 by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, November 6, 2018

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Eyes of sweet honeybees’ dark trash excellence aflowin’ two hundred eight bones, my godson

Wanted to be immortally mortal but that contradiction in existence could never come to be

Neither are you alive nor dead, in #Limbo just like every other living thing, oh anointed One

Retreat from the battle of eating or being eaten, burned or buried on a hill or in the blue sea.

Aw heck, red necks and wine, all but certain that the ultraviolet and infrared waves all dig me

Nine lives of the cat ain’t nothin’ but a legend, I am on my nineteenth still, waitin’ for twenty

Ice code of my ponies of Bud is pour it down the hatch, in this order, 1, 2, 3, nothin’ but fancy

Don’t say nothin’ once I’m fadin’ into a back wood of my foggy bottom bog, rockin’ ain’t free.

Horses in the carriage or under the hood only gets you to the end a bit quicker, wrinkled face

Around a track or treadmill, around and around, step by step, we’re a GD groggy human race

Rocks and Stars both below and above the pontoon or off of the shores and banks of the pond

It makes little difference to the dead men and their hands in my pockets, law’s order my son!

All we did was show our faces out of the holy darkness of our Origin, mamas’ inner sanctums

A condition of logic and reason that you arrive right here and now, up and down Sonny’s suns

I and only if you look like a loving reproduction of the mothers’ fathers, all natural selections

From the whole set in the domain, the party ends when I say so, diameter, radii and my sins.

Ultimate radio show on dead air, the last day you get to play here and now, smoke ‘em dead

All of the unheard philosophy, dusted words, phraseology all misleading, a jacked-up thread

You and I really don’t care, scared, it doesn’t really matter, there’s nowhere else to live it alive

Hombres guzzle Grapo and Tequila-lime Space’s Time drunk, I took the 5th, now I just drive.

Not driving a car or a truck, no bus or train, no airplane nor jet, mere model of skin and bone

From zygote to ancient scent of #BadSmells, like the city you were spawned from, corn pone

There were the priests and nuns, the prowlers and molesters at large, busy and side streets

Catholics and atheists mixed up into a huge spore of pre-star fodder, not ready Earthen Sun.

When the time is right, when nobody sees it coming, the forest fires will ignite the Hydrogen

Blue sky for your eyes only were only in the presence of the past, out of time without a future

Where I was and where you were just before conception and gestation, that is the question!

It ain’t my fault like William Shakespeare suggested it to be, eh? Blame it on FrancisBacon!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. BLOWVEMBER SIXTH, 2018 TUESDAY @ 11:11 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to the The Osborne Brothers & other fodder you will <3 span=""> like Blake Shelton etal on youTube links @ https://youtu.be/E5RDEXpc8OY?list=RDJXAgv665J14 & https://youtu.be/kkoT1nZOexY?list=RDJXAgv665J14 }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#BottomOfTheShaft @ElonMusk @ricoSacto #ricoSacto #philosophia

 

@MaxWeinberg #MaxWeinberg

SOME #WIPEOUT NEWS FOR YOU

 

by

Richard Joseph Stephan  ·  Monday, November 5, 2018

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

 

Just in case you forgot or never knew in the first place, you have a lease here and it’s up

You never have to worry about which way is up though, it’s the other way of falling down

I still have thirty-two teeth and in impeccable wardrobe, ask any haberdasher, he’ll stop

Just to comment on the nature of this picayune beast of burden, I saw a lot, a lion robot.

Utter nuisance to think for yourself, yet you must, praying to your creator will not reverse it

Species that avoids extinction rises to the top of the food chain, they do not eat one another

Top Dog species is in a safe place as long as the Earth spins or wobbles on it’s axial revolution

In orbit around a burning lump of burning gas, a star called our Sun, the immortal One son.

Pink and purple in a circle of origins and destinations, where and when we are, here and now

Snakes in the field of my nightmares and daydreams, I invented the slither and hiss to blow

From the origin of the first light in the darkness, first blink hammered the nail on the head

A crying baby’s a threat to world peace, Earth’s a burned-out star of dirt and rocks and US!

This is ALL THERE IS, no heaven in space or outside of this Presence, this Present time, now

Tomorrow or yesterday’ll NEVER exist to anyone on this planet, that’s a whirling Windmill

After the baby’s schooled and merged into the genome, it begins it’s entry into a Hades’ haze

To discover that Ground of Being is an energy depleted, oil and gas burned out star as well!

Looky here now, we will either agree to disagree or become lost ‘ants’ with no god-compass

Whether you are a bug without a name or a human being, an orphan with no self guardians

Corpses continue their entry into the hands of the Void between the black, blind spots of y’all

Nothing is further from the Truth of the nature of reality itself than my own consciousness.

You have NO SOCIAL SECURITY, when the population decreases, you’re left with a whore

Therefore, the non-participating realm are too uninformed about the reformation to fix it

War and battlefield death will decrease the young population as well, they will not need SS

To fix social security, #ThisMeansWar, war IS the answer to #Everything, All HAIL #Thor.

by

r j j stephan,i

c. BLOWVEMBER FIFTH, 2018 A.D.

{ draft prepared by #Scratch in a dream downloaded to the #MuseOMine while I typed on the Kboard to the fine jams of my #BrotherFromAnotherMother Carlos Santana on youTube link @ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0EW80BwB9mQ }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#GodAndGuns #1776 @Freedom #DontLetThemTakeEm @ricoSacto #philosophia #ricoSacto

CONSCIOUSNESS' HO, WON’T SWALLOW

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, November 4, 2018

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Carnivore bites you and tastes your blood, it’ll crunch your bones, y’all kiss canine boldface

Dead maybe not but eaten you’d be, therefore better take pains to arm well, leather and lace

War’s arrows, bows, pistols, rifles, knives, swords or whichever tool it takes to finish the job

Selfie defense of your own and your family’s, throttle what you got, eliminate things you rob.

So, employ the unemployed or give the no-count riff-Raff free money and food-stamp doors

To make sure they got cold beer, whiskey and all of the skunk they can puff, punks n’ wimps

Participating tribal rituals makin’ it skin tight, out of sight, boys n’ girls down, neon pimps

Nothing personal, shotguns at one with being alone doesn’t mix in tribes of eleven to fours.

Wasn’t anybody holding you down like when you were thirteen and bein’ beaten by a pillow

From an empty, black hole with nothing to show it filled up with the refuse of the gods’ glow

Sun and stars above and below this mile we walk alone, sometimes good or evil, always Bad

All night rambling between my tiny ears, each side of the computing matter, orphans all glad.

Your mother’s father doesn’t matter, everybody gets grandfathered in, even ET’s from Venus

Women from Mars and angels from Saturn, Uranus and Neptune, gins, kings, queens, gods

You ain’t listenin’ to the Word or the Meaning or you’d launch, not your rockets but your life

On the way to the eternal mocking of the black and white shinin’ blowholes on matrices dots.

Jumped out of your clothes the moment I asked you if you needed your back scratched, yep

That’s exactly how the food needs to be, undressed and raw as the moment it got boned up

From naught but an egg, sperm, rusty love or at least lust, created gender-dead meat chops

Turned out to be alive and not dead, just unspoken and unbroken, opened wide legs and lips.

Way down from First Taste past two lips, way down to a kaput finale, flushed God’s holy fight

Boredom edge over the ennui and moved the gods to battle over the ways and means, Power

Shine on stars from the blackness, millions of years apart, find ‘It’ down at the speed o’ Light

Hundred, eighty six thousand miles a second, R, W & B rollin’ stones, I’m God’s Father. Man!

by

r j j stephan, i { DO NOT GIVE UP & RUN! DON’T LET TAKE OUR GOD & GUNS! }

c. BLOWVEMBER 4, 2018 @ 5:55 AM PST

{ drafted while eatin’ a Georgia Peach in the darkness, under starlit skies of NorCalUltras

kicked to the ground in a mighty Void, #chickens on the side! listenin’ to Lynyrd Skynyrd

#GodAndGuns flowin’ through my circulatory system, #CominBackForMore link for the

PEACEMAKERS in the dresser drawers @ https://youtu.be/Gwd46EvhYw4 }

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