#NotTheBest #ItIsWhatItIs #DealWithIt @FooFighters #UnidentifedFreakyObjects

 FAKE FOO FOR THOUGHTS, UFOs

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, June 2, 2019

sssssssssssssssssssssssssss

Winks of young girls eyes when I was winged at the altar of fourteen, in a war at nineteen

We sat around the benches at the park of Lafayette, dreams of Joe’s deep-purple jelly bean

Enough cash to take care of the whole family a #Struggle’s real #fakeNews dope stragglers

Strangers to everyone’s mortality sin, a scat-load of loud sounds, evolutionary metaphors.

Personally from Illinois, Mississippi, Texas, Washington and mighty old, #CalifoNyeEh

Hard rocks and heavy metal of the blown out star-sun of the gods, mighty Zeus’ or the Ra’s

Made seeds, roots and fruit of jism trees, to a rumba down by the Green River’s sandy nuts

A long time ago, way back when, baked to a crisp back in 1980, cake LSD TNT of King Tut’s.

Think about it, conceived, born, raised and blamed for the favor of being in thin, human skin

Rippin’ the balls off of your back and squeezin’ wombs into a singularity’s saintly trump-kin

Hands strapped across the power inside my rib cage, I am lonely, I am not the king of cards

Includes the woman, the women, the powerful, the hungry and the destitute city boulevards.

Whiskey and love mixed with the lust of the loins to produce the scenery above and below

Sunshine and moonshine rule days and nights of the stoned and the lucid, clear of brow

High intelligence proves that when you get the chance to face your own death, you win it

Drunk or stoned, same place, same time as the place that the priests and angels will exit.

No honey or good times left over for the ones who were blinded by lights, womb’s Sublime

Blinkin’ a few times because you cannot believe that you were dead wrong the whole time

From the altar of the boys and girls, turned water into wine, Thor and Jesus begged forsooth

Whiskey rivers flowed in me, young enough to die for freedom, forget ‘bout ‘57 chevys’ truth.

A simple man or a simple eagle in flight from here to there, because of the hunger to be One

From the multi-zillions of bytes of matter in the matrix-universe, we are here and now, lucky

Many have attempted the trek from the gods know where to down here where the fish swim

Snakes crawl, birds fly and not even god can stand on One leg, it #Ends, ALOHA Dead Sea!

by

r j j stephan, i { UFO = FOO fighters, google it! #BaldyEagle says, “...paranoia strikes deep, into your life it’ll creep...step out of line & The Man’ll come take you away!” Therefore, STOP! Look around. You better! -- #bUFFALOsPRINGFIELD

c. Sunday, June 2nd, 2019 A.D. @ 11:11 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to #ForWhatItsWorth & HITS by #BuffaloSpringfield on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/gp5JCrSXkJY }

spawned

FINIS

#CyclePsychicDefense #Force vs. #TheVoid @ColinWilson #DionFortune @BuyYourOwnDrinks @MorganWallen @RunAwayJune @AaronTippin #AintNuthinWrongWithYerRadio

DEAD OMNIVORE & A HOLY HAOLE

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Saturday, June 1, 2019

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Last #haole of my sister’s ghost, #Halt ye Jupiter, California, fly on a wall’s viking Rune

In the still of the night, you schmooze an innocent soul’s puzzled mind, punk of Neptune

Frozen stiff, your movement will slow and eventually cease to exist here and there, baboon

Chances are slim and none that Mt. Washington will squeeze gold out of the valley’s doom.

The wind may either blow the fire out or spread it’s consumption of oxygen until emptied

When only Hydrogen is left without the O2, aerobic, organic, civilized life transferred seed

From wavelength to frequency, all channels are open to the static recollection of royal Cool

Knowing without being able to prove anything is a true necessary condition of a #FakeFool.

Tidal waves of water on the stone, mud and critical thought of the animated cannibalistics

Leftovers eaten in Tupperware and on China regardless of the taste, it’s a need to bleed dicks

Not without the crying and gnashing of teeth once the Truth is understood, consume hunger

Fully satiated beyond the dreams of monks and men on the moon, I am alone, so very queer!

If you feel it getting hotter in the room you’re sitting in worry about Time in your Space

On the road to hell which is where you’re headed, your mind will be freed, Saturn’s ringin’

Ammonia will complicate the forms and their functions, the calculus’ ice cubes, Mars’ life

Air and water will eat up the boys and girls not aborted by the double x helix, cut my knife.

Martians’ collusion with the Earth’s germs...with all of the boys’ dads around this country

Music of the younger cannibals and herbivores from the black holes and red dots’ blue sea

Mocking me now, pretending that I am more than I am which is nothing nor less God fear

Incumbent upon me to fly in the sky, so high that I disappear into thin air, loaded for bear.

Genes moving through the blood like hammerhead sharks in the cool, a sea of swirl, aw heck

I’ll always side with the best of the best just in case they’re right about everything, it’s too late

What you know for certain is that there is nothing that’s certain, it’s a huge uncertainty check

Bigger than your hands and feet, your member of the human race will shrink n’ disintegrate.

You will never know before it’s too late, why you’re gonna die and when, factoid of the fun

Here and now, then and there, when and where, the tiny tidbits’ necessary conditions, son

You’ve got little or nothing to say about it, input and output is beyond human control hooks

Books of kings, queens and holy bishops of Man, full of octopus ink, knights, pawns & rooks.

In the ivory or crystal castle or underground in the tunnels and caves of filthy, rocky, red dirt

All in the same bag, all in one, everything known and unknown in One, empty shebang’s skirt

Lost and found right where I’ve always been, everywhere in the middle of nowhere, I’m there

Joseph Love won’t hurt, Bob Marley can’t see it, you’re down and out, I drag-dread my hair.

Frequencies of wavelength, consuming all there is in the sound and light from hot, fast cars

Our sun’s only one, millions of sons aflame, all dying to live, blowing up acacic record’s stars

Thrown over your back and onto your face’s 208 bones, covered with cow leather and a chain

Out of the control of yourself, you die all alone, lights go out, doom is all you get for the pain.

Tower of babbling baboons looking at one another in wonder of what to do with Time’s gift

To be or not to be, to live and reproduce more of the same kind of encounters with Riff Raff

Scum buckets full of the amino acid and soul food, hog guts and hot sauce for a summer party

I jumped in Spirit lake, I cramped up, you saved me, now put ‘em up and drop the weaponry.

Whether you had one or not before today, here are the good words from woods of a sin city

Picked until the cows came home, grinned until my jaws and lips felt like they’d silly putty

Pressed on the thing itself, a copy made mark for mark, a line and a dot for dots of my best

Shaped by graves, pulled in every direction, up and down, stopped, halted, at ease, at rest.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. June 1, 2019 A.D. @ 9:11 AM PST

{ drafted while jammin’ #Howlee Dustin_lynch #GoodGirl @ https://youtu.be/cPLctS4kqk8 & Morganwallen #UpDown@ https://youtu.be/77qc4ZtufzM }

FINIS

#AwayWithTheFairies

 #Shamen

W.W.A.R.D.?

The Beach Boys - Greatest Hits (FULL ALBUM - BEST OF SURF ROCK)

W.W.A.R.D.?