#MamaMia #Queen #NothingReallyMattersToMe #CheckItOut

A STITH CUTTIN' 9's, TO DIE FOR

by

Richard Joseph Stephan  ·  Saturday, November 17, 2018

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Signification of nothing is probable at worst, yet I spend my PRIMATE time watchin’ God

Y’all will figure it all out before it’s too late, why you’re here, killer-ape program in the blood

A primate paradise in the middle of nowhere with nothing but cave wall etching scratches

Command this and that for the welfare of the herd or extinction is immanent, fate detaches.

As all of the dead who used to dream know well, this here’s the best you get from mighty God

Creator of everything that is composed of matter and the energy that fuels the genome blood

Fooling around making the species compound its ignorance with birth of morons and idiots

Dead Sea and a Book of The Dead to produce idiotic bones of moronic lives in fade-out skits.

Born of woman and buried in the mother of the things themselves, a herd of Mankind, God

After Earth becomes engulfed in an inevitable supernova, ridiculous animated AIDS blood

For the sake of your astounding genius of figuring out how to pay your bills, a self, at One

On your last breath, you’ll know you’ve festered in mediocrity, exceptional, it will be done!

Here and now is the way to see and hear, smell, taste and touch, open your mind to the feasts

Without the sunshine from the star we call sun, we have no point of staying alive, zero, none

Close your eyes now & then, it’s the same sight, same insight, same foresight of a #Me2-clone

A plethora of Nothingness without light or matter, soultrain of an aimless herd of wildebeest.

Before you or I will ever know it, it’ll all be over, the final curtain will be drawn with no finale

You get what you get and reap what you sow, straight furrows and green lawns of back yards

Trees from seeds, dirt and water, weeds mutated and caught on fire, CAMP’s successful torch

A genius government agent sets ignition on a plantation and causes #Wildfire blow of cards.

Play the ones you get dealt by the powers that be beyond our control, accidentally intentional

Roll the die, heroes and their mothers are just like the DNA and RNA of the cell, sensational

Without the mothers, the fathers do not push the faux-Nirvana’s chimpanzee bliss, K to 12’s

Extended logic and historical records prove the narrative is inconclusive, no Santa, no elves.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. BLOVEMBER 17, 2018 AD @ 9:11 AM PST

{ DRAFTED while listenin’ to #IWasBornToLoveYou by Queen & ‘HITS’ https://youtu.be/Fna56a_r41s?list=RDFna56a_r41s }

 

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

#LowTimes #HighsAndLows #HeightOfAbsurdity

WE ON THE AIR, A DILEMMA VOID?
by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Friday, November 16, 2018

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This isn’t a moving picture it is reality, it is the thing itself in front of imaginary faces

What’s wrong with that? Nothing at all. It’s a matter of being without you, no traces

Something is missing from the puzzle, my Void is Emptiness, as it should be, if only I

Am the One who makes it become what it is and always will be, this here weird blue sky.

Sometimes cloudy and sometimes clear as the diamonds and sapphires, divinity’s bone

To see the face of the goddess who was there at the origin of the Big Bang’s atom hoarder

Whether you are a present, former or future POTUS # 45 - Donald J. Trump’s spy/clone

This world is in a better place now for you, for me and for the beggars at our holy border.

There once was a razor that was so sharp it could cut itself on its own stoned consciousness

In and out of the reality of the present on the planet’s surface, in or out of our minds’ bliss’

Unhealthy air to walk and run around in, go ahead have your lungs blowout my own wildfires

Jumping out of this place in space where morons fear to go, you see what I do, funeral pyres.

There’s no surprise when your number’s up, when your name’s called, you ain’t deaf, dumb

You and I will gasp our last breath in our lungs to make our blood pump oxygen in the dump

We call it home, our life, our gift from the creator’s universe, occult #Isis or fallen #Osiris
#Zeus’ nature as above, so below, gods are NOT dead, immortal brothers on a magic bus.

It’s for me to know and for you to find out, just not a concern to the immortals, O2 gargle

Don’t need the air, alive in the outer space emptiness of the Void around the blue marble

Modify the scavenger class, the beggar class, weed out the workers from the freeloaders

Beggars become the grafters of the 21st century, have kids, they’re not his, they’re hers.

Eve’s children or whoever began this evolutionary survival mechanism, kids are all alright

Kids are alright, they learn no ethical guidance to the good, the bad or the ugly prize-fight

Herd the punks in line, straight, narrow paths from chaos to nirvana’s leapin’ blind faith

Big cities and small towns on the way to a rendering plant, ground #humeat for a #wraith.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. BLOVEMBER 16, 2018 A.D. @ 7:11 AM PST #BreatheIn & soon you will not #BreathOut

{ drafted in a vacuous void with a curvaceous one while listenin’ to the mighty Armstrong & Getty on Talk 650 KSTE GETTIN’ ready to go out in the #SmokeOnTheWater @ https://youtu.be/zUwEIt9ez7M }

 W.W.A.R.D. ??

#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.?