#HitTheSpotOrNot #NoGravityTheWholeWorldSucks

HIT THE SPOTS, UNITED STATus *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan  ·  Sunday, March 24, 2019

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Friday after five and me and the boys went up/down to the club in jungles of river Amazon

Everybody goes to the place where you can get anything your heart desires, excepting One

You’ve got to completely stay awake for the Truth and not fall asleep in the middle of the It

All you have, all I have, all there is under the black carpet of space and burned out play/skit.

Please and thanks for the explanation of the unknown, stoned contradiction to be, never die

To be eaten or buried, maybe burned or left to the sharks a blue sea, H2O flow ion-bytes high

Look at it this way, my way or the highway which is yours, the road has a fork you & I choose

There’s no going backward to where you came from, in a holy hole’s not an option, can’t lose.

In the church, in the cave, in the temple or mosque, the obedient mix with the rebellion’s ilk

No law or regulation can stop the putrification of the Word made Flesh, your God is the milk

Stop the air movement in and out of the thing and it will deteriorate and evaporate into ashes

Time and Space do that to every beast that has the gall to evolve out of the sun dried beaches.

Got up on the horse, rode more miles than I could count by the time the day was done sunset

In the middle of nowhere with nothing but a brain, a mind, ethical training, a philosopher pet

Around the block or the world is the same distance, it’s pie ‘r’ squared, #BFE symbolic 3.14 x

A point on a line, moving until two trails go sideways to an imaginary meridian, asexual sex.

Now, get ready, #STAT and be offended by Evil living in your Live blood, drank ‘til drunken

Putting in as much as you’ve taken, you’re about even with the matrix of the universe’s Token

Goin’ fishin’ in the sea, near the lake banks and rivers’ brooks and streams, missed a mystery

Last breath in deeply brothers and sisters, sweet while it lasted, indeed, slopes were slippery!

by

r j j stephan, i { #DeepHead #IceChest #ColdBeer #Boat #Beach #Camp }}

c. Dimanche Marche 24th, 2019 A.D. @ 11:11 AM PST

{ drafted to Morgan_Wallen #UpDown in a loop link @ https://youtu.be/77qc4ZtufzM }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#IAmWhereYouAreNot #Satch @JoeSatriani #IdolOfAxe

AXE TO GRIND, DON’T FRET KID *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Saturday, March 23, 2019

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In the middle of the road, shred so you can see both ways, overplayed uptown gigs

Formats of the function are in reverse order, in a dream yet not asleep, goat kids

Comin’ to know the end of the beginning before it starts, kick-start cab-over rigs

Bring it up the mainline vine to the heart, what’s the matter, chilled souls of Ids.

Pluckin’ the E, F, G, A, B, C & D just for the sake of a sack of silver gold doubloons

Easy to trade for the room and board of the things that wave tail in your fake wake

Makin’ the movement until momentum fails and then...and then eat pitted prunes

It will be the rhapsody in purple, a name of a woman, no sister-mother, eat the cake.

Protons in constant sight of you, electrons lost in space to the nucleic acid flow

Rays of plasma, wavelengths and frequencies received from a sun’s death blow

Much to say about a reason for being evil alive, no reason for being good not bad

Books of theoretical jargon to fill the Devil within me, my sapiens’ soul is so sad.

I had no name when egg met the code of gamete games, if I’m wrong, don’t have a shytfit

It may be that I had been introduced to my egg’s DNA alleles and I just forgot all about it

Truth is, any guess is as good as Adam’s and Eve’s or any worm itself, a crossroads thing

In the telescopic view, nothing magnified a million percent becomes the set of Nothing.

by

r j j stephan, i { *Header’s the mighty axe shredder, hands & arms of Joe Satriani #Satch }

c. March 23, 2019 A.D. @ 7:11 PM PST

{ drafted out of nowhere while listenin’ to some Rickie Lee Jones jammin’ on HITS like #Youngblood on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/j359eOgZBZM }

FINIS

@ricoSacto #ricoSacto @RickieLeeJones & me

SECRET, HOLY LOVE’S FIREBALLS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Saturday, March 23, 2019

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Caput! That is all! Pay your tides after the ides of March, it’s not April now fools

Talkin’ to myself my friends, I cast no aspersions to the four winds’ ice of coolvilles

Alarmed by the Time and Space in progress, in consciousness, aware, uppity, alpha types

Graham crackers and the rest of the fused hydrogen atoms, mutated into uncracked pipes.

Blown and smoked throughout the vacuum between galactic incinerators, I’m the Black

An emptiness only known to One, never to the Many we’ve come to be, what One’s become

Is but a vibrant vibration between soft and hardware, malfunction in the junction, Jack

Not a thing left to examine or analyze down to the substratum, to the bone’s metronome.

Tick, tock, to and fro, back and forth, in a straight line from one end to the other, pointless

Inventions of rolling wheels and flying spears brought Ages of Stone, the Bronze and Space

Cream risen to the surface of the life’s blood of the dream, the supermilk of the Earth’s teats

Anywhere at all on 7 continents, the misery and hunger walk, fly and float holy miscreants.

For just a moment, suspend your blind faith in an ‘unknown’ creator of this mystery’s Life

You don’t know and I don’t know, without a doubt, for certain, that a God created a Man

That is the epic saga though or so I’m told, sixteen years of classic scholastics, cheatin’ wife

Badaboom, badabing, the jigs are up as soon as the last hammer comes down on coffin nails.

You’ve waited forever for me to drop the dime on this philosophy mojo I’m carryin’ about

It will leak out right off of the bat, before you know it, you’ve known all along, so shout it

Cool as the far side of the Dark Side of the moon, sky satellite that swears to God’s Void

Stuck on Earth, in a place in space where I can adapt to the culture of civilized mankind.

It is the same, if it hurts and it kills you or if it doesn’t hurt ant id kills you, a stooge’s Ra Sin

Cool or not, it’s the target of the One, to run out of the energy of a singularity fusion’s fission

Utter satisfaction, in Love’s deep sleep, dreaming that you’re here or now, in hot #Coolsville

Frozen attention arrested, high price, hard to swallow wet dreams, I put it on Freedom’s bill.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. March 23, 2019 A.D. @ 3:33 PM PST

{ bled veins, bled out while listenin’ to Rickie Lee Jones #WeaselAndTheWhiteBoysCool & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/yGFEFncDYQc }

 

FINIS