#DispatchHelpMe #GodHelpMe #ForgetAboutIt

#CAMP #WILDFIRE #CONSCIENCE

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, November 15, 2018

                        sssssssssssssssssssssssssss

Fake tales about what never happened anywhere in the universe, it’s your life’s spit

What to expectorate and what to swallow are the only two choices that will save us

False statements and #FakeNews are inherently evil while alive, gods of the Dead Sea

Wander from coast to coast and pole to pole, island hop and dive deep down to be.

Miracles and tragedies are one and the same thing when you get really Far Out man

Seriously speaking and without appearing to fear the nature of the Truth, god human

It is my prerogative to speculate upon the nature of Being, of our own life and death

A procedure of action, cause and effect of the movement of the diminished bad breath.

In the end as it was in the beginning, there was nothing, is nothing and will be same

Holy crisis’ cross pretending to be the saver of the genome’s code, Fire, Ice and Fame

It turns the matter into the stuff of dreams’ work, where movies and reality are One

Meaning that without you and I nor anyone else, there’s no Good here and now son.

There is a little bad and little bit of ugly behind your eyes, blinded by light gestation

Look into the mirror but that is not your Self, but it is an image of light transmission

Extinction of every animated digger and crawler and the cave dwellers wall scratch

Hunters killin’ the meat for the soup, consume the dead to stay alive, let’s play catch.

This won’t ring any bells for you but you may read this over and over again, program

Perfection of the wobbling hundred and fifty thousand jewels is immanent, we’re spam

See nothing over here or there, see no evil spelled backward, recollect your conscience

Guy is only an accoutrements to throw guys in the dead sea, we just said, Nonsense!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. BLOWVEMBER ONE-FIVE, 2018 AD @ 9:11 AM

{ drafted while listenin’ to Cheech and Chong in honor of my father who loved those 2 boys, link on youTube @ https://youtu.be/kqkKUBlux_Q }

 nb. #GraceOfInnocents #Fire #Ice #Void

W.W.A.R.D.?

#UtterBLISS, #CheechChong #PrisonerSurprises

 { #HistoricalRecord of brothers who I loved #ForeverDave, #Hispanic, #Mex, #Chicano, #Jesus }

 

BLISS, #CheechChong PRISON PRIZE

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, November 14, 2018

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Midland or in the middle of the work, the art, the picture, the portrait, the #FakeNews

Before the time when you can’t breathe another gasp of #SmokeyTheBear’s hair blues

Burned brush and redwoods, cedars, spruce and whatever the #HellFire ate, It scrams

Consumed down to the rocks and the dirt, now like a moonscape satellite of God’s dams.

Picasso could not trumpet the coming, it wasn’t on TV or backfired radio news in the AM hail

It just came with people in cars yelling and screaming to “Move, get the #Phuque out my way

As if someone wanted to stay in one place and become consumed by hot fire sparks’ #Topgun

Invisible Man upstairs, give me a break, pray to who for what, man’s or gods’ good or evil fun.

Nobody knows anything for certain, including you professor know-it-all, you googled-it-all

A fool in the rain or the snow is a fool on the ground of being, a lease on one of God’s balls

Growing DNA from rampant RNA spinnin’ in circles, wobbling in an ecliptic ad infinitum

For your eyes and ears only, nothing to feel or touch here, smack the bad taste out my bum.

Giants cannot see the microscopic microbes, mitochondrial survival of the fit scum’s slime

Animated bone bags, calcified soft rock, bodies formed of an idea, a modal unit’s primetime

Of the mice and the women, the fish in the sea to shining sea, we get around the blue climax

Knowing that the end is near or far is not a panacea, bars and locked down in a prison #Max.

All you have for the punishment of the crime is the thoughts between your ears, inside a 6x6

Payin’ for the freedom you took for granted and threw it all away forever, incarnated dust sex

Gloves on hands, red duct taped wrists, boxing the 4 walls you got to beat your God incarnate

Time won’t heal any wounds beyond Space’s third day, you got an itch, so go #Scratch a date.

by

r j j stephan, i { *grati for the #header above the scroll Escuela Deportiva Pablopicasso }

c. BLOVEMBER 14TH, 2018 A.D. @ 9:11 AM PST

{ *drafted while listenin’ to a cranial pressure release listenin’ to the mighty Cheech and Chong historical cyber-record on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/iMYHEhyf_Rs }

 

W.W.A.R.D.?

#BlackOnBlue #BlueAndBlack #SoSorry #LiedToMe #MONEY

STRIPPERS, ROLL ME SOMETHIN’

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, November 13, 2018

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Could be beautiful and invisible at the same time, in stealth like a bomber ready to annihilate

From the pity of the rat-infested cities to the sorrow of the back-wood, dirty-road caliphate

Pills and salves on within and without the 208 bones of Adam’s Eve and the DNA star-trust

All Time in every Space is One and the same, nowhere and everywhere makin’ out holocaust.

Creation of two F-22’s, a raptor 412 million bucks each makes a 1/2 a billion buck shadow tax

Go to work and pay the piper, take it from your sweat and blood, to hell with your baby tears

Bombers and flying wings of flashing lights, back-engineered mothers not of this Earth’s men

What is it? What are they? X-15 shoes on my feet at 13, never wore out, taken, God’s whores.

Escort performing, #Underground nature of a Being, Earth’s your mother, it’s not your pop’s

F-18 #Skunks have an odor of bloody punks pretending to be tuned to invisible, cosmic gods

Numbskulls and intelligence merge into the bleeding river of nightmares and daydream stops

Wore a top hat and white gloves on the stage but naked as a j-bird in a rumble seat’s hotrod.

Greasing the gears to hide the naive, all too human fears, nobody knows everything ‘bout Life

In the river’s stream, playin’ the games in the right place at the wrong time, got to beat a wife

Not mine or yours but the wife of the guy in charge of the whole shebang, all-Broadway funky

Slippin’ in/out of dreams, creepin’ in the AM darkness, to find a dead-end ghetto OG junkie.

I shall survive alone and at one with the universe but I won’t have time to trump Hearts’ aces

Cards are dealt and I didn’t shuffle the deck, I didn’t cut the deck, I never knew divine faces

Could be beautiful and invisible at the same time, in stealth like a bomber ready to annhilate

My darkness without light consumed the moments I had laughing at the moon’s death fate.

It’s a burned out star, don’t shine or heat the bones and blood 186,000 miles away from here

A satellite of Earth’s status as Home of Android and Cellphones to communicate with Spock

Wandering and wondering with an evolved chain of lightnings central nerves, full faux-fear

From the get-go it’s Truth or fake Pride, be mellow, Hollywood be rollin’ bones off the dock.

by

r j j stephan, i { *header is a DNA mix of The Jezabels, here, now! Blind between the eyes! }

c. BLOVEMBER 13, 2018 @ 5:05:05 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to Kool & the Gang #HollywoodSwingin & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/YK-cvcw3ngM?list=RDd-z2Kyiu0Nk }

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W.W.A.R.D.?