#AddictedToYouBaby @ChicagoTheBand #HardHabitToBreak #Alright #Alright #AlrightAlready #CCR run!

....it's alright, alright, alright...goin' to the end of the line...

BLACK HOLE, MAKE IT RED HOT!

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, February 24, 2019

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DNA of the living cell mutated and became what we are here, right now, in a Time stalk

Danced, laughed, skipped and jumped around the hopscotch chalk lines on the sidewalk

Brown eyed girls, blue eyed boys standing in the sunlight waiting for the rainbows to kill

Performance enhancing breath from the gas left over from the Big Bang, shot to #Thrill!

Beginnin’ at jump street where everybody joins the party, down in the incubator’s holy core

Closer to the heart than to the soul but inside the body, nothing is outside of the locked door

Emptiness before the hoses that spray the liquid gas upon the dirty and muddy fit-bit keys

Matter into a cosmic egg full of live/dead stars, ridin’ backward on pigs, my baby monkeys.

Around the blazing fire in the middle of the blackness of night, warriors come to get theirs

From the prey of the prowlers, meat and bones in a cosmic menudo of tiny, anatomic tears

For the love of God, the Divine Nature we attribute to the process of living and dying, funny

To have it or not to have it is not as important as lying that you have it, no need to lie, honey.

I dreamt all of this in front of my eyes, including your conscious apprehension of the Siege

Rattling off words of songs, shredding the frets’ chords and arpeggios for mama’s groupies

It really doesn’t matter about the running up and down the scales, it’s all weightless of form

Responsible for nothing seen or heard, Creator gets away scot-free, tequila without a worm.

Insanity of the mind of man is merely the maladjustment to the facts of life, God’s accident

Thinking that you exist is all that’s required to accept the responsibility of life’s paradoxes

It may or may not be all there is in the universe, this Earth, this plane’s planet of hot foxes

Oklahoma to Maine and back down to south Texas and California, turn a page heaven sent.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Sunday February 24, 2019 A.D. @ 1:11 PM PST

{ drafted in my OWN, deep ‘personal’ GriefForCats & listenin’ to the @GlennFrey TrueLove jam from 1988 on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/mUM4x4Bl_Ic }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#HardHabitToBreak #Alright #Alright #AlrightAlready #CCR run!

....it's alright, alright, alright...goin' to the end of the line...
BLACK HOLE, MAKE IT RED HOT!

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, February 24, 2019

---------------------------

DNA of the living cell mutated and became what we are here, right now, in a Time stalk

Danced, laughed, skipped and jumped around the hopscotch chalk lines on the sidewalk

Brown eyed girls, blue eyed boys standing in the sunlight waiting for the rainbows to kill

Performance enhancing breath from the gas left over from the Big Bang, shot to #Thrill!

Beginnin’ at jump street where everybody joins the party, down in the incubator’s holy core

Closer to the heart than to the soul but inside the body, nothing is outside of the locked door

Emptiness before the hoses that spray the liquid gas upon the dirty and muddy fit-bit keys

Matter into a cosmic egg full of live/dead stars, ridin’ backward on pigs, my baby monkeys.

Around the blazing fire in the middle of the blackness of night, warriors come to get theirs

From the prey of the prowlers, meat and bones in a cosmic menudo of tiny, anatomic tears

For the love of God, the Divine Nature we attribute to the process of living and dying, funny

To have it or not to have it is not as important as lying that you have it, no need to lie, honey.

I dreamt all of this in front of my eyes, including your conscious apprehension of the Siege

Rattling off words of songs, shredding the frets’ chords and arpeggios for mama’s groupies

It really doesn’t matter about the running up and down the scales, it’s all weightless of form

Responsible for nothing seen or heard, Creator gets away scot-free, tequila without a worm.

Insanity of the mind of man is merely the maladjustment to the facts of life, God’s accident

Thinking that you exist is all that’s required to accept the responsibility of life’s paradoxes

It may or may not be all there is in the universe, this Earth, this plane’s planet of hot foxes

Oklahoma to Maine and back down to south Texas and California, turn a page heaven sent.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Sunday February 24, 2019 A.D. @ 1:11 PM PST

{ drafted in my OWN, deep ‘personal’ #GriefForCats & listenin’ to the @GlennFrey #TrueLove jam from 1988 on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/mUM4x4Bl_Ic }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#FamousForNothing @ricoSacto #ricoSacto

GEOMETRIC SPACE OF THE BOX

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Saturday, February 23, 2019

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If I might be so bold as to offer this whistling flute solo to all my brothers and sisters in arms

I would be most grateful for a brief moment of your valuable time in space, to beat the knees

It would be my privilege and the pleasure would be all of mine, I’m certain, block me please

Not a moment will pass when I don’t remember every second of every day, black, holy bees.

Your and my universe blew up, blown to bits, frags of dust trying to recalculate equations

In a sewer of perfume, we stay alive with luck, hope and faith of foundational #Fake sins

You will be the tire without spokes or rubber, without being a circle of matter’s time-sea

An alpha and omega in concept, a video explanation to see the things unwitnessed by me.

Got ready to collide with another mass of energy full of explosive gas, ended in a fire ball

Empty in my head, no rocks or rolls in the hay or on wheels, tires, hovercraft or UFO call

Ready to die while living in mystery of what’s going on, night and day, day and night loons

In flight, grounded at the center of a canyon-blown crater, UFO saucer, meteor footprints.

You and the fish will swim above the waterline or die in this heaven and hell, this is all of it

Nothing more or less than a dark word to express the danger we’re in, on a ride to live to die

But we are a useless bit of energy consumption, supernova’d Earth dry of the #verve, unlit

Extinction of every species is immanent, we all get to breathe air “until we die,” but “Why?”

Comets’ fire burn all skin, hair and bones into ash, don’t worry, be happy, you’re not the Void

But you are inside of It and it appears that there’s a reason for that, you’d go insane, android

Lucky not to know what happens just a second, I could tell you if you want to know now, Ha!

I would not want to destroy your faith in the gravity of graves, mum is the Word, oh my Ga!

This here Time is way out of my personal bony hands I use to play music, to write on walls

Matter material and the hot atoms in black holes make us go crazy, we expand and contract

Coming in a high, concentrated bit of pleasure, an orgasmic distortion of Space-Time holes

Rules of Shakespeare’s game are universal, to be or not to be is indeed, eggs’ #Bacon exactly!

by

r j j stephan, i { *Tribute to all of my brothers & sisters who served our country, #SomeGaveItAll ! } #SpaceIsCurved #LightBendsWarps

c. Samedhi, February 23, 2019 A.D. @7:96 AM {bent space & time to divulge}

{ drafted while jammin’ to the #SpaceTime explanations on youTube links @ https://youtu.be/6wUbo4VewQU & https://youtu.be/1Avy0mxxzR8 }

W.W.A.R.D.?