P H I L O S O P H I A

Monday, May 20, 2019

#ThunderboltStruck #TNTMercy @J-LoYoYo #Remedy

YOYO’D ON @J-LO FLY-G

Richard Joseph Stephan · Monday, May 20, 2019

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She ain’t your mama, that is for certain, everybody knows she’s wasted from runnin’ ‘round

And around and around ad infinitum, further than any human or insect can perceive sound

I hear it loud and clear, since I’m just a ‘bot, never been all too human or all too insect either

It ain’t my fault that this scenario of reality is goin’ down, I’m just a casual observer of #facts.

First things first and last things forgotten and neglected unto death, here is symbolic logic

Start with a premise or three and lead on to the inevitable, rational deduction that you suck

Like the graves underground, buried bones close to the Earth core, recycle the worm’s fate

Cause of the dust going to dust is the revolution of the planet about the burnin’ balls of hate.

When you burn everything that matters into a crisp, like the sun does, like the stars show us

You may come close to the Truth about the nature of Being, who and what always make a fuss

Nature’s #GameOfThrones with the kings, queens and soldiers all surviving alas, fruit n’ nuts

I will obstruct the Justice since I created it from nothing but air, morals and ethics, the ruts.

Here and now is the code for the present, what you see is what you got, nothing more I can do

Discovery while walkin’ and sailin’ about this world is sacrosanct and a gift to the chosen few

Those who were fortunate daughters and sons of the merciful gods, not vengeful bug-insects

Code red or blue, one side of the spectrum of light to the other, infrared subjects and objects.

Used to walk the dog and rock the baby in the cradle but then I lost my yo-yo, imperial’s mold

Over the rainbow somewhere far away from the grounded feet of success, there’s lead or gold

Findin’ and keeping it until The Market Bully does a #Smack Down on your mama, not mine

That’s how it goes very often, #Flygirls so bad they die when they die, taxes Time on a dime.

r j j stephan, I “00”

c. May 20, 2019 A.D. @ 5:00 AM

[ drafted while listenin’ to the mega-mighty, almighty Tower of Power #SoVeryHardToGo & HITS on youTube link, in a #ChicagoLooper @ https://youtu.be/0IR_mTe-1wM }

FINIS

Saturday, May 18, 2019

#PutYourFootOnTheRock #LetsRoll #RASTAMAN #SixtyFourSquareZone #ThirdPlaneSpace #FourthDimensionTime #Unashamed #Unabashed #LydiaPense #ColdBlood

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UNASHAMED & UNABASHED

Richard Joseph Stephan · Saturday, May 18, 2019

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Think about it pawns, kings and fortunate sons, we are all kin to hungry cats and hot canines

Now, my friend is bein’ honest whether parents are priests, nuns or inmate dressed to nines

In revolution around the burning, hot star, gaining momentum, a holy, gravity wobble busted

Enchanted, being the third stone from a sun’s quirky nonsense, a One religion of Stardusted.

In numerical-alphabetical order, we’re all on the same page of an Emerald Tablet’s scratchin’

Recollection of conception between four alienated forms of immaculate con-deception, a sin

In love or lust, a mating thing beyond wars’ glass thrones of kings’ fake queens on the blocks

Fired-up water sums up the planet’s groom of it’s #Rockness with no Blue Sea, cool sky rock.

Without a trace left by the ancient trail of smoke in the empty valley of tears, I am, the F-son

The air goes in and it goes out of me, until one day it will end, it’ll be finished for the bleedin’

Heart stops pumping and only gravity and muscle relaxers cause bowel-evac, I’m a heathen

Out of the cave yet hidden in the plain sight of the hunters who starve for the cry and wine.

Who exists as your soul’s accountant, is to know that you are a walkin’ deep-sleep Time flip

Cannot awaken easily since it involves leaving the Earth’s gravitational twirl, God-death grip

Married to the dreamer until death do us part, it ain’t my fault that it is what it is, so just chill

You could but I don’t recommend attempting to explode firearms into my skinless, holy skull.

Name and serial number on your dog tagged jaw, kicked shut by a loving combat boot’s soul

Equations mirror a real life, inequality being the essence of Love itself, eyes watch my steps

On freeways the secluded roofs over ape-UFO modality, Oneness without atomic form of hole

Black Holes, White Dwarves as above, so below a 64-square plexi-glasstop, apes, “Let’s roll!”

r j j stephan, i

c. May 18th, 2019 A.D. @ 7:11 AM PDT Samedhi

{ drafted while listenin’ to @LydiaPense & @ColdBlood #WhenImKissinMyLove & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/s_S4rDwVBl0 }

W.W.A.R.D.?

Friday, May 17, 2019

A CAPELLA BATTLEAX NAMED #Mjolnir #ItIsHammeringTime #HolyScat

A CAPELLA, THOR’S BATTLEAX

Richard Joseph Stephan · Friday, May 17, 2019

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It’s not ‘just’ a hammer, it’s a piece of an imploded dark star, a black, unholy, my singularity

Fixed in an infinite menudo of atoms and quarks excited to be here and now, full of fool glee

Interested in mountains and valleys, rivers, seas and the stratosphere down to the One core

Merged into a banquet phantasmagoria where the whole thing is but Thor’s hammer score.

Mjolnir thrown out at home, sliding into 1st fear of loathing, spikes high up Alexander’s thigh

Conclusion from deductions of highly probable observations’ premises and the monster mash

Seasons come and go, the life you had this AM will certainly in a Manhattan’s minute, will die

To the point of being or not, bullseye representing against the prison’s wall, it’s a six by nine.

Lacking perfection is the means to the end of times, the end of the games, played by the Force

Of the air, the land and sea, this Earth’s spin and wobble shoots the revolution, sun Evolution

It always was and always will be what it is, the rock and roll from seven continents to the seas

I know this is not the Time, I know this is not the place in Space, a slippery slope with no skis.

But that is all I know, that this is not the Time in Space, The Time, that is, in The Space above

We know what’s below with dead bones of our ancestors, the ashes of our spirits’ turtle Dove

No reason and no rhyme to the nature of the beast at hand, lookin’ in the out door’s window

Off to battle I go, fool-me ending, a war I knew from scratch, an angel I am, way down below.

Inner secrets of the black house nobody gets to rent or buy, it’s the last home of the boneless

Rubber or plastic entities annihilated when outside of the gases of the Earth, aliens are gods

Nobody comes in saucers or ships and visits the weird parts of universal Milky Way humans

From Thor’s Big Bang until shock and awe #BattleAxin’ your head, I Am Mjolnir, old friend!