#FabricatedBabble #PicassoWasAStonedJunky

HALF a PICASSO, DO it OVER AGAIN

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, January 10, 2019

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Without me and without you there is nothing at all, believe me and if you don’t who cares

Six sheets to the wind and I know better than to say I know anything because I’ve got shares

Mothers of the homeless boys and girls had no husbands, no fathers and no brothers, no kin

No hope for anything except for another fix of something up the sleeve, tween the toes, all in.

Who wanted to give you a chance to make it the rest of your life? No holier than Man, lonely

Reality happens when you open your eyes and live alive in the present into the future, homey

You and your friends pretend and you hope your family kin are all wrong, no black sheep love

It always was what it is right here and now, I don’t get it, named thing, look out below, above.

Nuts and fruits, skin and bones to be above ground and below the sea level surface a twerkin’

Not just once or twice but an infinitude of times, ahead in the race counterclockwise trackin’

Party with food and drink to keep, your move in the boat goin’ all night long, pass a fifth Jack

Don’t need a shot, just two lips and an ice cold Bud by a glass’ bottle of bulletproof Blackjack.

Straight shot into the bullseye for the sake of the matter and energy that you can & can’t see

Talk with the language of the culture you’re lost within, makes your head explode into pieces

Forsaken and forlorn, it doesn’t matter how many stones you inhale, wine you imbibe for free

Hard work of reputations tracked into slander, offendin’ my psyche, backbone core freezes.

The day we die we’ll give it up but not a moment before, sorry you are always and will ever be

A matter of being, a figure of imaginary speech, linguistics and comprehension are the 3.14 pi

Joe and Jesus more than less, become the person of the year, as if there was more than one

Aliens ate all the rest, the bones and all, now this naked ape monkey must bring on the fun.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Thursday, January 10th, 2019 A.D. @ 9:11 PM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to Jonny Lang #RackEmUp & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/7FHhDY2zmcg }

 

W.W.A.R.D.?

@Underexposed @ricoSacto #ricoSacto

ALL GONE, SKIPPED SPACE & TIME

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, January 9, 2019

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Camel’s lips and tattooed hands of henna meet in dubious places in space, all for the humps

My humps, her humps all get atop the dromedary creating Andromeda infused data dumps

L.A. ladies and NYC hotties movin’ north to south from Chicago and on back to old CalExico

Mixed in exact order of explosion, first the outermost matter and then the nucleus of it blow.

Meeting with the dubious boss of the entire planet is silly, no meet or greet a queen or king

Son of a saint, a seamstress for a rock and roll band who traveled with Hubble’s Space probe

All of it y’all on a laser tape record player jute box, only thing certain is, ‘timing is everything’

Blown out pipes of exhaustion, rocked me to tears, shot hoops and diamonds on the ear lobe.

Tigers whether male or female do what cats do, kill and eat, reproduce and sleep and fight

Naturally it is what it is to be a cat whether in a cave, a tree or in a suburban cottage sight

Beautiful in the mirror of a blind man is as pretty as the darkness before atoms gotta blow

I ain’t drunk, I ain’t high, I’m educated to 16th grade, rest in peaceful history, make no foe.

I want to blow you away but if I do you won’t read this diatribe all the way to the bitter end

Where you’re meant to go but will never get to unless you keep steppin’ out, ‘round the bend

A lick means nothing other than you’ve got salt and bacteria on your palms and finger tips

Get over it gangsters, gold teeth and blood on the asphalt to look at my lost traces of ships.

Ones that sailed away in the night and never seen again on the face of Earth, I am one of ‘em

Not a reward but just a pathway down the center of the farm, the ranch or tiny town of them

Right down centerfield’s two-way street, caution, peaceful wind, blowin’ stops, mortal sinnin’

Grapo changed to vino at the right time, licked the henna off of camels, the pine & the wine.

One way or another, we’ll give them something to talk about one way or the other, huddle up

We’re goin’ right over the top into the end zone, there’s only ten seconds left, just get in step

One, hut two...hut hut...hike, passed, touchdown, we win, it’s a hustle for a thing camels love

To talk and to feel deeply in and out of it, I loved, I licked, eclipsed my solo flight, a cut above.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Wednesday January 9th, 2019 A.D. @ 4:44 PM

{ drafted while jammin’ to the Eagles #Legacy #TheLongRun & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/QyUW98ROjbk }

 

W.W.A.R.D.?

#LowJack #Bulletproof

BULLETPROOF, LOJACK HOMELESS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Wednesday, January 9, 2019

ssssssssssssssssssssssssss

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.?