Friday, May 03, 2019
MASTERS PEACE OF DOGWOOD
ANGELS’ STREETCORNER MERCY
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!
by
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
W.W.A.R.D.?
Thursday, May 02, 2019
#DoNotCuss #FoulLanguageIsBlackHoleSingularityFuel #CrowsOnAMission #DonJuanMatus @CarlosCastenada #IceCream #SoulScream
OUT OF YOUR MIND, SOUL SCREAM
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.
by
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.?
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