#JerseyGirls #GoneWithoutAWhimper #PutMeOutOnTheStreetsWithNoShoesOnMyFeet #LoveMyBrownEyedGirl #SnappinYourJeans

HE, SHE, IT, STASH MOTHER’S ILK!

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, May 14, 2019

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Keep ‘em up at ten and two, hands on the wheel and pedal to the metal, dream is side slippin’

Deep into empty pockets where nothing returns, in fact everything turns into nothing, my kin

Sorry to be the carrier stool pigeon for the epic peon-pawn charade, your life, our life blood

Like the magic you feel as you laugh at the comedy and tragedy you understand due to a god.

Shooting balls in hoops, scoring, touching down over the goal, sliding into home, I’m all in

Nevertheless, nobody wants to play the games with me because they hate to lose, I will to win

Since I could think about it, I’ve been knee deep in the struggle for survival, I’m out the shed

In my mind maybe until I was about 50, on the way to the 70’s I defend quickly, light sped.

There is no luck of the draw when the deck is stacked and you have blinded faith in justice

Life and death without the rules given and followed by the minions, unfair yet top shelf ice

Struggle to survive here and now, on this plane of existence when others want your life slice

Just because of their early childhood, they’ve been introduced to the blues by Adam’s slice.

Here is the saga, don’t give me that look either, the one that you give when you think you cool

And that I am not so much, yet we get along like shots of whiskey shootin’ straight one to four

Happy hour and on the way out the door, to the taxi, to the hangover door, home again fools

No choices here, we couldn’t keep my hands at ten and two, hungover, tree’s in my dead face.

Nothing more than the end of the nights and days that weren’t here before you got conceived

On spirits or hallucinogenic weed and fungi and cacti and Earthling sap, a menudo cocktail

One for me and one for you, wait a few moments and the sights and sounds of Earth mutate

Into the hell-bells that come now and then when life gets old enough to shrink and dissipate.

Who you are, what we all are, what this is all about, in love or not, there’s a good or sad story

About whether or not you get what you want when you want it, desire-will, it’s all about me

I’m the One that’ll die when it is time to take my last breath, therefore I live below, as above

I will be precisely where I personally was, rackin’ up the bones on the night-shift puppy-love.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Tuesday, May 14, 2019 A.D. @ 6:44 PM PST

{ jam to Brothers Osborne #PushinUpDaisies & HITS @ https://youtu.be/ogs2a_yS4v0 & Eric Church #SmokeALittleSmoke link @ https://youtu.be/HOFzyA65O7Y & @ChrisStapleton #Millionaire @ https://youtu.be/CaqzeE41XcA }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#EyeAmACaveat #RealThingsAintHereRightNow #TheEyesHaveIT

********************

#SCUTTLEBUTTIN’ A #ROSE

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Monday, May 13, 2019

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You know and I know that nothing really matters at all, in the end, no holy bed of azure roses

Do not offend the rights and privileges of the matter and form of the Void, we’re just posers

It’s nothing personal, just the facts man, you know it deep down inside, alright, alright, right

Nobody worries about me, my mama and papa have departed into empty, infra-neon light.

But wait, it’s all a game of thrones when you have no rules other than the moot scuttlebuttin’

Of the women and the rats not mice and men, they own it all from one atom’s planetary fun

From a seed, bush and a thorn in the crown of a lightening bolt’s google-bomb of my Zazen

In a crossbow ready for the bullseye of your mind, your persuaded Id boredom of Hydrogen.

In the frequent variability of the human genome’s metabolism, the training of babies matters

Without being ingrained into the ethical choices of a free spirit, a free will, you go to prisons

Or you are hunted by the #PowersThatBe, some of them our own brothers’ and sisters’ kin

You care more for the survival of your own true self than the altruistic survival of a minion.

It is what it is, there is really no alternative to the #PrimeObjective, to be fittest to survive

Knowing that it’s all a transitory experience with a vacuous promise of blinded faith in gods

None of them present, all of the past and just sayin’ they’ve got no future doesn’t fly above

Neither can it dig below the pole’s of the dirty ball down to the hot-iron core of lava bloods.

Get it right when you order the flowers for your survivors to feel better about the ignorance

None of them will get out of this presence in the present still breathing with heartbeat sins

Side effect of the falling down from heaven to Earth, asleep as if you’ll never awaken, is this

We’re all gonna die, dead and wild angels are the only ones who eat cow DNA, #Matrix wins!

by

r j j stephan, i #ArmstrongAndGetty #NeverAgain #NeverAgainAgain

c. Lundi, May 13, 2019 A.D. @ 9:11 AM PST

{ drafted while frequently LMAO & listenin’ to the #ArmstrongAndGettyRadioShow on Talk 650 KSTE 0600-1000 AM PST or podcast your arses off @ https://kste.iheart.com/featured/armstrong-and-getty/ }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#ViceIsNice #NiceGirlsDontDoItInTheRoad

MARY HAD A BIG LAMB, BAT SCARS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, May 12, 2019

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What’ll be won’t have any bearing on the fact this dream within, is intel of old scarred heads

No fear, born in 2nd city’s alleys, attitude caught from holy bull’s shat, rice patty sewer dogs

No kind of talent other than to know the Truth about why existence is what it is, all he dreads

We get blind faith #FakeNews truth about what tattletales want to blab to the angels’ blogs.

Choices to be or not to be for all, from premature babies in the laps of the mothers of us all

From the place in Limbo on to the fire of the purge, everything goes up/down the drain to fall

Down to the bottom of the furthest depth next to the fired up core, a nanosecond, on a dime

A fight to the finish and then anointing the forehead in front of the brain with a lobe on time

Fighting for the survival of your very being, consciousness, mind in a brain’s split personality

Schizophrenic dyslexia and a healthy dose of fractal fret-shredding is what I dig about it, P

I know that it’s been said somewhere, both of us know, on a wall, in a book, from God’s ears

Lips flapping with the emptiness of the gums, nails broken in the hand bones of all our peers.

Music tapping inside my ears, causing my feet to tap the Origin, getting a soul to loathe a sin

On the castrated axes, it’s written that ma and pa warned us about it, triggered all naked apes

Need some Southern comfort to express the joy I have for the facts of life, she destroyed tapes

Blue data about you? From Maine to Carolina, wanna go be on a wave, hangin’ ‘10’ surfin’.

Hated the love and loved the hate, just like lover do, playin’ the hard-ass soft, #FakeNew pest

Wherever sound emits from tubes of air or plucking ten gauge wire from a fake cardiac arrest

Simple mind for me, just a simple guy, turned around from fearing and loathing master bone

Where 32 teeth and blackened eyes remain embedded in jaws, etched deeply in a cross stone.

by

r j j stephan, i

MARY HAD A BIG LAMB, BAT SCARS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, May 12, 2019

c. May 12th, 2019 A.D. @ 4:44 PM PST

{ WROTE while deep in the 1985 Stevie Ray Vaughan 1985 @Montreux concert from the #completeEpicRecordingscollection (LIVE) link @ https://youtu.be/mMTblDDqJUA }

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FINIS