#WeGotYourSix #Branded #Tattood

GOIN' DOWN?

 

666

CONSCIENCE, SCIENCE & A SIGH

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, November 13, 2018

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I love California and it burned down last weekend, many innocent men and women died

Bones and the remains the intent of the cadaver dogs of natural war, on a spark plug ride

Transformers, utility cables with Marconi’s electricity, leakin’ natural sunburn, divine air

People run, people disappeared into thin air, underground, underworld, under the radar.

Compared to a moment ago y’all appear to be identical, as above, so below, we was/were

Past, present and future collide right in front of my lyin’, blind eyes and distorted audio fur

In or out of my ears and far away from understanding why this happens to Humans’ Spirit

Indeed, I forgot church last week, missed the service, all my fault that heaven sent the hurt.

This is not a rupture of your scantily clad monkey fur or the direction of a suffering idiot

It is the perfectly phrased noise meaning nothing at all, dream alive and dream dead bolt

A lock on the gate that you may not enter until your last breath, if then, maybe not below

It may be that the space outside of this planet’s bubble is an empty void without any glow.

For the sake of brevity, if you must, remove yourself to the boudoir and the mother-lode

Into the unconscious dream state of alpha, beta or Zappa, become ranch #Dead #Mothers

Cursed from first to the last blink of eyes, jumpin’ to wild conclusions, a retrograde mode

Cause of the First Mover is as unknown as is a DNA pool of your great, dead grandfathers.

Soon enough, you’ll remember this day at least since it appears to be happening, gone too far

I, on the other hand have forgotten this moment already, burnin’ hot flame made in holy Hell

Where the smoke engulfed my lungs, even close to the ground that melted below me, I’m tar

Unqualified to be an immortal being, there is a consequence to the mortality ride, dumbbell!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. BLOVEMBER 13, 2018 AD @ 10:10 AM PST

{ drafted while jammin’ to the Grateful Dead #FriendOfTheDevil & HITS I lifted off youTube link @ https://youtu.be/XacvydVrhuI }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#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.?