#LowJack #Bulletproof

BULLETPROOF, LOJACK HOMELESS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Wednesday, January 9, 2019

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Taillights are all I saw as my wheels drove away from my sight, a handshake, an odd ass’ kiss

I found the skeleton stripped on down the road behind the red barn and low-ball snow drifts

My soul dropped and my head nearly blew up like a room full of TNT’s holy, red-hot sparks

Sitting back, picking and grinning about the rhapsody’s melody, homeless in Chicago’s parks.

Cruising for bruising, coasting for slides along, no beat goin’ on, yet I rule it, a Main squeeze

All nothing, when you stop breathing, your heart stops beating, your eye balls stiff in a freeze

All of your muscles, bowels trained by the civilized culture go slack, last memory of this chit

A lingering odor of fecal matter, meat and cheese processed for life on the third stones spit.

Gas moved into liquid and solid, an evolution of the solar flares of hot, blown, atomic mass

Leaving the light and the heat in the wake for the waif to swim in and ponder fusion’s glass

All that’s left when atoms fizz or fuse into the thing itself, Oh Popeye of God, Olive Oyl is hurt

Eating me spinach just because it’s green, full of vitamins’ minerals, we kissed the filthy dirt.

Ragamuffin’s and waifs ruling the streets, homeless street urchins abandoned by mom’s pop

In line for the soup and the hot, fresh bread to fill the empty heads and bellies of the top crop

Children born and raised to keep the Earth rockin’ and rollin’ around the ecliptic, infinity’s Id

Animated from One state of being, at One until a Nova consumes this fake, holy, atomic grid.

Lies told to the children to pass on as the Truth of the ancestors become a sacred saga’s fuss

Unbelievable, incredible and not ready for prime time, revelation that emptiness is Void of us

Nobody, nothing exists where there’s no gas, no air, no matter, no energy, roll away the stone

Holy cave, radicals put games in the ground of being, holy hole cracks open, boned to BONE!

by

r j j stephan, i #GTFOOH

c. Wednesday, January 9, 2019 A.D. @ 7:11 AM PST

{ drafted while jammin’ to Cypress Hill #PutEmInTheGround & #HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/nNyDk4Q503M }

 

W.W.A.R.D.?

@MrBean #ricoSacto

IT’S A DISGUISE FOR THE UNSEEN

by

Richard Joseph Stephan * Tuesday, January 8, 2019

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Thank the powers that be, whomever and/or whatever they may be, I understand, I survive

Nothing on Earth, above or below the sun, a feeling called Fear within me, blowin’ my soul

Never will be anything to beat or eat me other than myself, even when I’m only half alive

Maybe I’ll change someday like ma and pappy did, way down that 6 feet deep black hole.

Be afraid more than you’ve ever had to before because to meet your demise isn’t a dream

It really happens, you die, I die, we all die eventually, like every other mortal of the Elohim

No wings, no bodies, invisible souls, out of their minds, in one ear and out of the other Jam

Pulling wool over your eyes, die as sheep, an epileptic flash blindness, a sacrifice of a lamb.

I don’t do the dozens but if I did, she’d be the one in the corner with the combats boots on

Nothing wrong with that if you’re in comic mode of breakin’ rules and laws, be in on the con

Pulling wool over eyes just like the sheep, causes immediate flash blindness, angels please!

Lucky you, we made it to Earth, we learned to survive, hate to die now but my heart’ll seize.

As soon as I set my eyes on the object of my desire and intent of my attention to the thing, It

Whatever you want to call it in any language or signals of the drawings or letters, hunter chit

How we survived without being eaten or burned or drowned, only God or Ala knows for sure

Copacetic as a fool on a hill, up a creek with no paddle, balls and bears hit jackpots’ red color.

Underneath the teflon armor there is the blood, skin and bone of the little one grown into big

For the black magic or the red devil, it all comes down to this, back turned on the only origin

All of this came from One thing, what it is, what you call it makes a little bit of difference but

Either black magic spells or blind luck of being in the right place at the right time, mystical!

Rhythm and beat merge into a song from horns, drums and steel strings’ amplified riffs

Chords of flats, sharps, major, minor, seventh and diminished, all help to express the One

Seven notes, seven octaves puts the forty nine places in this space time, no jumpin’ off cliffs

It’ll be over when it’s over, no reminisce routine for the dead and gone, be the Golden Dawn.

by

r j j stephan, i { #EyeAmNotBatman }

c. TUESDAY JANUARY 8TH, 2019 @ 3:33 PM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to some amazin’ CARLOS SANTANA #Europa & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/JAsfAuvFvh8 }

 

W.W.A.R.D.?

#WhereIsTheHill? #CypressHill #Time #Space #ricoSacto @ricoSacto

 

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A LUCKY STRIKE OR A CAMEL?

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, January 8, 2019

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Smokin’ hot, bees of honey in a black label, drunk in a twilight zone’s open wood-fire, I do

I don’t every time things appear to be going south, not my intention to be ignorant, ignored

I cannot do what I haven’t been programmed to do, ethics, morals, knowledge of evil’s God

One suddenly spunked into mitosis of the DNA, a fortunate son and wayward wife’s hotrod.

Under 9.2 in the 1/4 mile, on blacktop made for traction of spinning, burning rubber’s light

In utter darkness and malicious intent of an invisible terrorist, stalking the innocent at night

Eating, defecating, blowing hot air out of the posterior canals of foul stench, dead, used fuel

Taxi please or an UBER quote, get me to the airport before my flight departs for a liberty bell.

Periodic tables and algebraic equations to illustrate the nature of Being and the star, Sun

Father, mother and sister are another story for the nature of being a moment in Time’s fun

Pretendin’ that everything will be fine in the scheme of things will work for a while, it’ll end

Even if just a second before your last breath, it’ll present itself as the Truth ‘round the bend.

Look deeply into dark places you can find inside or outside a godhead, timing is everything

Peanuts is funny, the rest is history, grilled onions and extra well done on the cow pie thing

Bon Voyage to the minions who await the return of US mail to the address of a peppy skunk

Filing for the absentee parents, the motherless children survive, they’re behind bars, drunk.

To make sense of it all and bring all of the pressure on proving that knowledge is the Truth

A philosopher and a mystic have a chat in a chat room on the internet, metaphysics in sleuth

Fait a complet, it’s a wrap and there’s nothing that any human on Earth can do about a whole

If you’re alive or will be soon, get the info/data on the nuclear bomb/missile, in a black hole.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Tuesday, January 8th, 2019 A.D.

{ drafted listenin’ to top 15 #Cat commercials made to laugh your arse off, link @ https://youtu.be/DOyaP4Kr8R8 & #WARTheBand link @ https://youtu.be/gSQAlfyaKyc }

 

W.W.A.R.D.?