@HogInnards & some @LynyrdSkynyrd #GodAndGuns

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CHITLINS', GOLDEN SCRAPS & KOOLS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, December 12, 2018

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Blues ride on down the freeway, down your one way alley dead-end into cement love balls

Songs of the men and women, open borders, time on their hands, smokin’ drinkin’ pickin’

Without that rhythm there are no blues and no jazz, nothing but a polka, classic and a waltz

Even if you’re deaf and dumb, blind and a total idiotic moron, you have rights to be a livin’.

Livin’ twenty or a hundred years makes little difference, in the end the boneyard’s just ahead

Final vision of yourself breathing one last breath, tryin’ to keep it in because you know it bled

Pedal to metal, shot down a turnpike/expressway/freeway, full gallop 350cc spurred up horse

Stalled 4 wheels, old red, rocky mountain dirt, graves dug, banished the gods’ hotrod Force.

Trying to make it easy, it’s harder than hell, meaning that hell is Hard as Rock, yet I guess

We’ll never know whether there’s more than one way out of here, planet Earth’s so loveless

Look way out there at night, all blackness, asteroid showers, never a #Casper friendly ghost

Won’t come out in the day or night, trying to feed the hunger with chitlins & titmouse toast.

If you wanna get down and ride from the place you’re at to the place you’re headed, get down

You’re in charge of the way you go until they lock you up and lose the key, aw, a prison frown

Don’t want to obey the law and work for a living rather than break the law and scam high life

Be prepared to go from scouts to inmate jousts in a joint some can’t survive in with no knife.

How in the world can civilized people allow prisoners to slice each other just because, what?

Salt peter or a drug to soothe the savage beast would be the civilized way, that is legit, no chit

If you found out what happens to people imprisoned and you can’t believe it, just walk away

Here and now, a rubic cube screws a pooch, pretending to be It, rhythm’s beat, a magic Way.

by

r j j stephan, i { “Redneck! ...kissin’ & the crickets are the only sound...do ya wanna get down? I’m One of them boys!” }

c. FREEZEMBER TWELVE, 2018 A.D.

{ DRAFTED while listenin’ to BlakeShelton & @LynyrdSkynyrd @TheRollingStones & @WARTheMusicBand }

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W.W.A.R.D.?

#AmericanSignLanguage @ASL #TakeALittleRide @ricoSacto #ricoSacto

WORK TO DO, YOU’RE NOT IN YET *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, December 12, 2018

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Jingling the bells helps some people once every year, you and I are in this dream together

Never to see the sunlight of the Earth’s dark side, even in the fear of some aberration’s fear

I am and no doubt you are One and the same person we were the day we got our DNA face

Therefore, if there’s any above or below this planetary mass of matter, it is all, Empty Space.

There is no need to have blind faith in the words of this stranger you’ll never see, God’s ‘boy’

Just read the commentary of the cosmonauts and astronauts who gave accounts of the Void

This is the play of the stars, you know it and I know it, Hollywood and pharynx’ #BigPharma

Prime color back in black until the whiteout causes extinction, regeneration “AGAIN”, mama!

Perfect, just as close to nothing at all as you can get, chain of fools, you’re jugulars are bitten

That thing itself is the mirror to stare at and comprehend that the Truth, the Reality’s illusion

Fight for the right to party and to wage #War on or off of the turnpikey freeways of olden ho’s

Man, oh man, oh man, we’re so lucky to wear the chains attached to our ankles’ rubber souls.

Cracked, broken, shredded, de-animated meat on the spittle or in the skittle, it is what food is

If you don’t eat and drink you starve and thirst to death, you don’t have to believe me to see

Obviously from day one, year one, survival of the fittest was always a natural law, Earth jazz

Flesh Itself, it’s lying to me, you & all in the know, we ain’t gonna just die! There’s afterlife?

Emotions just electronic transmission of the breath you breathe in and out of your hidden fur

Lungs, organs of two hundred and eight bones and an invisible soul of existential electronics

Meaning no more than the sound you hear when you’re 93 million miles or more away, yo sir

No word, no sound, no sight, taste, smell or touch, nothing but Void, colorless, guitar licks.

Grab the mike, grab the axes, tune the organ and horns to the back-beat, stage of black colors

From Origins through the intermission to the finale, potheads moving partners in high crime

Drinkin’ or smokin’ direct-contact with the air to breathe, sweetened leaves of outdoors odors

Wordless, slipped a Mickey and became the #ConscienceOfTheNation #RockStars sublime!

In and out of the danger zones of this realm from north to south pole and all around a globe

Not that you know it’s a globe but you’ve been persuaded by logic, reason’s sinners singin’

Ones who teach because they can’t leave the children alone to the computers, they’ll revolt

I love y’all and I wish y’all a Merry Christmas and no Silent Night, Jingle Bells are ringin’!

by

r j j stephan, i { *#HEADER is THE ROLLING STONES lead singer, #WhatsHisName @SirMichaelPhilipJagger c. }

c. FREEZEMBER TWELFTH, 2018 A.D. @ 10:30 AM - #FirstOvernight

{ blown through my mind this AM while listenin’ to a cornucopia of Christmas jivin’ jams but I will not see a #WhiteChristmas, it will be like #Hawaii in #NorthernCalifornia & listenin’ to the link TheDrifters & company @ https://youtu.be/GfZPtkqXQIA }

 

W.W.A.R.D.?

#DinoPaulCrocetti #OnBeingYourGreatGrampa #EducatedFools #DontWorry #HellsBelowWereAllGonnaGo #ThereCanBeNoShow

ON BEING YOUR GREAT GRAMPA

Don’t expect much if anything from Santa and so everything will be all yours, hook the dare

The whole shebang falls at your feet, whatever there is, whatever can be is all safe in there

Waiting inside the snowman’s soul with nothing but a pink cheek and a black, licorice lip

Still One with the morning dew and twilight blinkin’ of planetary stars, sailin' with no ship.

Punks comin’ from everywhere in every neighborhood, lookin’ for top gun of the showdown

Eyes wide open and being saved from the boil and freeze of the rotation’s eight ball on loan

Space between the index and ring finger is infinite, blind faith is a jacked-up, joker’s scheme

To eat you for supper, shake off the miscalculations and move on, be mastermind of memes.

Center of the number line from positive to negative around the zero of nothing, it’s up the jig

Purpose is the Way to cope with the hopelessness of being alive in the middle ground, not fair

Who came before or after you won’t make a difference after we let the candle-blown back hair

Summer or Winter, Autumn or Fall are the measurement of the wobbling spin, a revoltin’ gig.

No ho, ho, ho and no jinglin’ bells heard echoing in the streets, turnpikes and freeways jacked

People that don’t know each other drive along together to see someone they know, #Fakefact

Comfortable in a soft recliner with a warm, silk quilt in front of the open fireplace’s hot flame

Recollections of the past, dovetailing into presence, the presents that ain’t there to lay blame.

#FakeToys and #RealMcCoys for the girls and boys, children of the ripped and torn, my kin

Let their women make all of the noise to the teachers who taught the objective to the subjects

Becoming a man OR woman is to be One who does unto everyone else, in ONE’s only ZaZen

Be in the groove to love holy grandkids from a mystic conduit, Emptiness’ vault of #Fake sex.

Look into my eyes and see what I see inside of yours, me, all of me in the reflection’s own sun

No matter to worry about since it’s neither here nor there when it’s a matter of state of mind

Energy of the gluons, protons pullin’ their own microscopic weight in no particular direction

Waiting days and nights for the shakedown, of another POTUS Trump run, free sons of guns!

 

by

Richard Joseph Stephan

{ “...A treasured work of art, locked in a room in my heart!” -- @ Dino Paul Crocetti; June 7, 1917 – December 25, 1995}

c. FREEZEMBER 10, 2018 AD @ 5:05 PM PST

{ drafted for THE GREATEST GRANDCHILDREN OF ‘MY’ GRANDPOPS & GRANDMOMS listenin’ to #WhenYoureSmilin by Dean Martin link @ https://youtu.be/jxBgiYOzmQo }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D. ?

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