#Trippin @Trippin & just trippin'...

BLACK PEARLS IN WHITE TRASH

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Friday, January 4, 2019

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Come back to the beginning where you always intended to be, here and there, now then

Inferior or superior all mixed up either way, not the whole thing, just a piece of the skin

Points in the argument or on top of the head, you are a moron, you are an idiot, we are one

It is done, everything will all become the same as it was before the beginning, Divine fun.

But if and only if you can see in the darkness where nothing but you resides, holy soul dead

Peeking in holes to see the real things, as they are, coming to the end of the goddess’ dread

Flight of the birds whose wings are clipped by their karma, what they did before this dream

It must be paid, the debt I mean, either yours, mine or both, maybe all of ours, it’s an A-team.

Punks of spunk young men left abandoned on the bathroom shower stalls’ floors, wet dreams

Uncomfortable and annoying from the first to the last day of the cough, the sneeze, the gags

Sudden impact with a miracle and an accident, collision keeps you in tune, dead, heavy metal

Soft head on soft rock and roll dreams, #FakeNews, #Tragedy, all on a roll, amen, skedaddle.

Punks before and after grade-school training for a high school or university diploma/degree

Wisdom will not sink into the genome and will be forgotten under the dirt, burned by starfire

One day before the Earth caught it’s orbit to wobble to, I was there and I’m still here now, see

Those black pearls rolled and the white trash rocked the iron horse I rode in on, I am for hire!

Infants grown into children and on to adulthood, where each man is responsible for all of it

We all come from Original genome DNA and we’re the ones who live and die on an axis’ chit

Responsible and obligated to the #FactsOfLife as they’ve been handed down from emptiness

Factoids noted, lickety splitly I move in tandem with my spirit, on the freeway with The One.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Friday January 4th, 2019 AD

{ drafted & crafted while listenin’ to Aretha Franklin #FreewayOfLove & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/Ip_pjb5_fgA }

 

 W.W.A.R.D.?

#ThirdOfTheFirstOfTwoZeroNineteenAD

GIVE A RAT’S BEHIND, STICK IT!

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, January 3, 2019

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Livin’ in a van down by the river on a Thursday at 7:11 AM, fully armed before the cock crows

Motivation to be satisfied with the fact that you pay for the things you consume, by working

Labor of blood, sweat and tears of your forefathers, absentee fathers and mothers of mating

Deep thought is not required in your repertoire, wear your baseball hat backwards, albinos!

Now, get past the hot tip above and you’ve still got holes in your Dumbo ear lobes’ holy skin

Cauterize the wounds of the saviors who rise above the loudest mouths, stars, stripes, gunnin’

The most toys in possession of the degenerate genome which is the fission and fusion of Mum

You know the girls that raised us become what we are, holy garbage in garbage out, ho hum!

Now then, all educated with the logic and reason, the high metaphysics of wisdom, hear that?

Keepin’ whose hands off of my property, my right to possess and bear, a revolution to begin

Shell shock and battle fatigue come in handy when you’re at war, operational exhaustion sin

A little thing called #PTSD ,a post traumatic stress disorder, a Vietnam GI love of country scat.

Landfill of the garbage inside and outside of your heart and soul, become your preconception

Prior to mothers’ pregnancies, religion from East to the West, concealed divinity in clear skin

Soul and mind, spirit of the condition of being, moving, animated DNA out of nowhere above

As below, maybe an illusion or dream within a Poe dream, guest appearance, die white dove!

Pass away from death do I part, I shall expire, life throttled me by the throat, I choked a byte

I swear I shall overcome the impossibly illogical tendency to survive when death is inevitable

Narcistically speaking, without me here and now, I don’t care what happens to a world’s balls

Start at origins of ignorance, collect a compendium of fear’s mythology, now you know It all.

Revolution against the Big Brother that nobody knows even exists at all, that is God’s Truth

Ten or seventeen Rights on the written word of humanity, the pretenders awake, we all alone

Inside or outside of seven continents above the saltwater of the fish in the sea, I am uncouth

Uncivilized and enculturated with being a skeptic of the patronized eyes of rods and cones.

by

r j j stephan, i #MolonLabe Moxy Molonlabe

c. Thursday January 3, 2019 A.D. @ 7:11 AM PST

{ drafted while improving my self-esteem in tune to the inspirational #GeorgeCarlin standup on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/h6wOt2iXdc4 }

 

W.W.A.R.D.?

#WhatWouldAynRandDo #WWARD #LoveMyBaby #ImHerLittleLoverBoy #Happy2019Yall

20/20 DIRIGIBLE’S HINDSIGHT

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, January 2, 2019

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Forks in the road is where we come to in the end, comedy or tragedy, One returns back home

Not to the town or the country, the city or the territory but to the Origin of our soul genome

In or on the land and sea or in stealth mode through the ether’s gas bubble of air, deep Hole

Inside our outside of it is everything else other than you and I, It is in Jersey, in #Freehold.

Compared to the #ACME, your grocery and department store pale in comparison, oh #Deli

I smell salami and ham sliced to perfection, fresh bread out the oven, over river from #Philli

Utter distraction with parables and recollections of a young child’s mind, to be alone, skipper

Now that I’m all over it and done with altar boys from Valhalla, I’m just Hades’ philosopher.

It can and must be 2019 A.D. since everything is the same as it was yesterday, trouble is hers

That to be or not to be is NOT just a question out of a hundred, it’s the only one that matters

If the essence of wisdom is to know the nature of being and to act, move with direct intention

Then I consumed that essence the moment my mother decided to NOT abort my zygotic sin.

Performing in my own act on my own stage for the seven decades, I cry to return ignorance

To the creator of the Void, the creator of your momentary experience of Earth independence

In the funk of your recollection, categories of the form and matter of atomic neutrino quarks

Coming, going, sinking, swimming in Cosmic stew goddess and full of #Dead’s ripple sparks.

Punks from the inner cities broken homes, fatherless children’s skin and bones animate dust

From simple minds, repetition bred the followers, dependents of the welfare state’s disgust

You and I will discover the Truth in the end, bitter or welcome, it’s going to come to hide out

In shoes, boots, sandals or moccasins, row your boat, dreaming now? My intent, #NoDoubt !

There is no question that you and I speak to a hard piece of metal that replaces wasted faces

Ones you used to speak with and look at, now it’s a flat-screen or just sounds from no places

For the sake of the ancestors, recollect the reason why you’re here, #FullMonty accidentally

Get ready for the emptiness and force of gravity to take your bones down, burn, #dillyDilly!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Mercredi 2 janvier 2019 après J. -C. 9 h 11, heure normale du Pacifique (HNP)

{ drafted while kickin’ through a bog of fueled intensity that you’ll never know & listenin’ to #BigSmo & Upchurch 2019 link @ https://youtu.be/nzDTFYwV7MY }

W.W.A.R.D. ?