P H I L O S O P H I A

Friday, May 03, 2019

MASTERS PEACE OF DOGWOOD

ANGELS’ STREETCORNER MERCY

Richard Joseph Stephan · Friday, May 3, 2019

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There is a reason to the rhyme in your prismatic prose, a lack of sensitivity, negligent C-men

From the bowels of the bottom of the meatball wasteland, the Earth supernovas demigods

Souls of One or the Many, on the cages of the masses of third and second classes of a Zazen

Discredit the humanity of it all, revolution from the axis to the equator, supernova gonads.

Spies for the Arctic and the Antarctic cites of the frozen tundra, all the waste conglomerates

At the top above and below at the bottom of the whirling, dead star, dirty planet ozone fates

Comin’ in and out of black holes, the hard rocks turn to soft,hot liquid, ore-rock, lava hotties

Drop the facade and create the Truth out of the Nothingness that existed before gods’ bodies.

Thunder, lightening, fire, water, wind from the revolution and wobble of the twirl’s whirl

It’s a matter if Time and Space, the spin, wobble and flippin’ turns, ad infinitum, endless It

We are not qualified to comment on the nature of Being the source of Being, the Be One All

Unfathomable that your original DNA code is related to Nothing on Earth, heaven’s a ball?

We play ‘ball’ every day, the Earth is a ball, the moon is a ball, the sun is a ball, do it all again

Spring and Summer makes the hitter run about four bases to get home, scoring losers do win

Tell the truth about what you think, true love and smiles, hard to get hard up and in, screws

I am mad at you but I’m not mad, you’ve misconstrued my dream in these ultraviolet blues.

It’s right when it’s wrong sometimes just because you don’t lay down to sleep all alone, ever

Inside the bag of bones I’ve got to animate the thing itself, in the toes or in the brains, never

Never-land is not the end of the line, it’s not curtains down on a stage’s finale, iced giant Red

Bitter end of iced, terrestrial wings’ groove in a magic gas rock, a holy UFO grave, it is said!

Intent causes the effects in your and my reality, whether conscious or unconscious, same old

Ancient texts of human linguistic history from a tower of Babel, mighty blows, spinal tap gold

Take this the wrong way please, you and I, all of us of every culture on Earth fall down to here

Ecstatic, empty void of holy-scat prayers to corpses lovin’ social paradise, holy cheeseburger!

r j j stephan, i {HEADER is that old 70’s Florida-Alabama-Georgia-Mississippi band }

c. May 3, 2019 A.D. @ 11:11 AM PST

{ drafted while jammin’ to #MollyHatchet #HaveMercy & HITS on #GatorcCountry CD & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/PTR13MV4fqc }

W.W.A.R.D.?

Thursday, May 02, 2019

#DoNotCuss #FoulLanguageIsBlackHoleSingularityFuel #CrowsOnAMission #DonJuanMatus @CarlosCastenada #IceCream #SoulScream

OUT OF YOUR MIND, SOUL SCREAM

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, May 2, 2019

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With my own eyes, I could not believe what I was seeing, out in front of my pen screamin’

My paintbrush and a plethora of color from white to black and in between, in living colors

Around the turning merry-go-round ad infinitum, liking it or not, it’s all there is, all you got

No turning around from here and now, only going down, never up, it’s too black, no lights!

On another hand, it’s dawning, that we qualify for free gifts of bliss, ignorance and amnesia

It is my treasure chest of inheritance from the original man and woman who began fantasia

Full of the silver and gold that comes from the dead star’s refused fuel, we’re ain’t dead dude!

Infected in the end or at the origin, with the virus and bacteria that qualify for being Good!

Up above and down below the things themselves, I think that I will to be, therefore, ‘I says’

Mother Earth and Father Sun before me and will still exist when I’m done, huzzah, huzzah

Rested underground or in the justice of the free falling volcanic ash-choke, cosmic collapses

Road’s twisted on the way to the dead end, weary hallelujah or not? Creator, Jesus’ Buddha

Periods of the era of human genome are historical some are not, always Dark Days indeed

Affected by all of the lunar and solar effects upon this rock that rolls a dry, wobbling seed

Earth is full of graves of bones for a reason, it’s got nothing to do with God, saints or angels

Sorry, no disrespect but I’ve been blinded by the light of Truth, justice is ringin’ my bells.

Equal and disproportionate piles of ash, liquid rock, bricks in reformulated, lead-mortar balls

No kidding, you know just about all there is to find out, idols will idle, tearing skies drip, cry

Alive, live every moment like it’s the last one you’ve been granted, AC/DC wall of the evil fly

Get more than eight miles high, out of your mind, out of the world as we know it, Adam falls.

Invested time in your golden lead, into the form of a statue’s head, looks in your motley face

Or me or any form of homo sapiens with 208 bones and a ton of guilt for Alpha’s stolen pool

Time and Space becoming the duration in this place, my hometown, my digs without a trace

Deep in the woods, in the jungle, near the caves at the top of the volcano, I still play the fool.

r j j stephan, i

c. May 2nd, 2019 A.D. @ 9:11 AM PST

{ drafted with grace from above {#MyMuse}, while listenin’ to some Bruce Springsteen #HumanTouch cd on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/bNJA3jCeAR8 }

*Header is one of the VincentVangogogh #masterpieces, #TheScream link to more @ https://youtu.be/boRWPNu_JZA }

W.W.A.R.D.?

Wednesday, May 01, 2019

#BillionsAndTrillionsOfMinutes #UnblindedByTheLights #WheresMyBabyAtNow

FREE ENERGY, WORMHOLE BLOW

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, May 1, 2019 A.D.

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It may or may not float in thin air, hydrogen full consciousness in a heart and mind of a liar

As if I had a choice to be conceived. to be born, be that as it may, soul’s vector is cool at best

Small byte of data in a remote viewing to a stranger in the night, lantern morphs into hot fire

Punks and genii in open contact disclosure for no reason I know of, that magic matters less.

Magnetic fields pulling on my psyche’s consciousness, my deep sense of Self, loosened a city

There it is, here and now, perceived by sensory and extra-sensory perception, black hole blue

Pan and pot, fork and spoon, got the song and the rhythm of the rhyme, drop a dime on me

There is a plethora of action points all in essence the same thing, One combusts, doubled two.

Too hungry to be Top Secret, too thirsty to be Confidential project of Starlight subpoenaed

Back to the ground of being, here and now on Earth, a finite time before death with a blade

Functional flying objects are now, I’m laughin’ about the conclusions without wisdom’s edge

Horror and comedy movin’ under enemy lines, contorting into masks of Ala, Zorro’s pledge.

My knife and sword will be embedded into something less than rock but more than liberty

It is not my choice but I will participate in the predication of the subjects’ and objects’ posing

Burned into the rock, branded and embedded, paws out of balance wheels and a stone matrix

Encoded the cypher of the Cabal, the I Ching, the prophet @GibranKhalil, interstellar sexist.

Nuclear weapons in metallic, circular objects are FO’s not UFO’s, got it? Get it? Very good.

Existence is a trip without any surprises but there are more surprises in store for the minions

You and I and everyone else, young, old like me, holy or in sin, particles of the gas of a god

What moved the unmoved mover? A push, a thought, a fall into a rabbit hole’s mortal sin?

Blind faith probably in error due to it’s wild conjecture regarding unknown emptiness’ void

Perhaps, the cake will be had and eaten too in this particular case, what the hell, android?

Running out of water, Earth will live on as a dry rock without living things’ evil, no life alive

Radiant and freed gas, evolved Singularity in a #WormHole, hell, mama told me not to come!