#DownTownToTheNightclub #BumpBump #SlickSticks #TowerOfPower

SUNSHINING, O’ER THERE MAMA?*

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Friday, June 14, 2019

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Queens come and go, they come in all sizes and shapes of humanity’s female form, oh mama

She wasn’t your mama but you had yours, if she wasn’t a queen in your mind, you ain’t royal

Now you know the difference between princesses, princes, paupers and poor out the game

Earth’s dusk and dawn twirl the stars around us, they move away while we remain the same.

Knowledge and wisdom will cost the highest price above oil and diamonds, emerald tabloid

Historically hysterical that things themselves think that they’re above the collapsing spheroid

When they are actually the vital part of the mass and it’s momentum’s trajectory in a #Hole

Space is the Hole, it’s black, a black hole and we’re inside the vortex, the singularity’s blow.

Pierce the heart and soul for the rest of the story, I don’t have it because it’s inside your heart

You have no soul other than the heart-beating keeping you in the presence of the star’s burn

Fortunate to be here for a moment’s minute or century, no reason for the freeway’s tide/tolls

If questions have no answer then we’re doomed to this world’s ilk, tides, waves, mondo trolls.

After the game’s release to return to the origin, home of the forgotten spirit’s event horizon

Remembering this or that and every other thing of the Cause and Effect of a real automaton

Mythological, biological, historical all One ball of confusing swirl of gas turned to blue, fine!

Dreaming bigger than #Big-time #bitcoin and piling the Gold into God, worship the #Shine.

A shot of Jack in a Coke with a cold glass of Hamm’s is all a mother needs to know, oh sonny

Last call for alcohol before the end of the days’ dream, where the metal squeezes you bloody

It was not my intention to die in a wreck on the highway but it is what it was, an idiot drove

Too drunk to drive, my ten year old daughter drove us to kingdom come, as below, so above.

Back to the world again, over and over, until I get this right, I usually play a fool, wrong song

Just because I forget what it was I was supposed to remember, I cannot recall the ping pong

Over the net, bouncin’ with spin on the table’s matrix, out of bounds is the other guy’s point

I don’t know much and maybe nothing at all but I will say this, word from lips to a god’s joint.

Hell ain’t a bad place to be if your high on AC/DC but if you’re me and my motif, scaredey-cat

You will like I will, fight for my survival, I will kill and eat the food to stay alive until I find It

It will be hot there but it’s much better than the ice-cold, middle of nowhere in an ice-drift kit

Pounding boulders into stones, rocks and pebbles will remedy this malfunction, Divine #scat.

by

r j j stephan, i *ThePowersGotThePotion

c. June 14th, 2019 A.D. @ 10:10 AM PST

{ drafted while being corrupted by #Corruptafornia and the minions on the internet’s youTube #BrainFog #BorgAssimilation #TowerOfPower #SoulVaccination & HITS link @ https://youtu.be/nFjHL-E0NTQ }

FINIS

#Rectified #Sanctified #JustFried

CERTIFIED BY NOBODY, @04:30

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, June 13, 2019

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Who you are or who you’re related to from power royalty on the block or throne, unknowns

Believe the holy historians have recorded the hearsay of liars and thieves, long dead of bones

Perfectly finite in Time, we atoms of a microscopic place in Space, Nothing’s the case, holy lie

This is a conditional conclusion, extinction of life on Earth is inevitable, mortality, live to die.

Primed for the experience of procreating the species, calling it love and marriage to kill spunk

Trending parental enculturation to restrict full liberty and put masks on works of the skunk

In Nevada’s desert, underground below casinos and air bases, there’s a whole world curiosity

Fill in the holy blanks with the lead and gold left over from the Big Bang’s supernova, creepy.

It is not easy for some and very easy for others, it all depends on the luck of the card draw

Some get a bad hand dealt even though the cards were shuffled and cut, always call a bluff

All in at the end of the game, everything in the pot except straight up, clothes on our backs

Beautiful royal flush of my hand beats your aces and eights, hell, you got a dead man’s hand.

Find the location of the space in Time where you go to meet your maker, end of your days

Go there and sit in that place and meditate on it, recollect that you are what you are, greys

Evolved the rocks and pebbles from the Big Bang’s menudo, a retrospective of collapsing

Expanding and contracting, fissionary fusion of cells do nothing but they do their thing.

Monsters and lovers lurking around every corner, all of the nooks and crannies full of stool

Recycled cuisine and mixtures of liquid from water to milk to the last call for grain alcohol

For the love of God, being the love of Mother Nature, Space and Time, despair and abandon

Appearance of the vacuumed cosmic, dead dust, killed, extinct, obsolete man, I am uh, One.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. June Thirteenth, 2019 A.D. @ 5:55 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to #FederalistPapers georgewills1 on the #JimboHannonShow on Talk 650 KSTE gittin’ ready for the mighty Armstrong & Getty 0600-1000 AM PST }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#SHOOBIEdoo #MentallyPhysical #LetUsGetPhysicalMentally

@CarlosSantana #Devadip

SMOKIN’ DESPAIR IN HOLY HOLES

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, June 12, 2019

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Haven’t been the same since all the lawyers were disbarred and I’ve got no standing in court

I can’t kneel or sit in court either, not allowed in the door, I just wait to let jail open, to be free

I got the keys but the sheriff don’t care because I’m his grandson, I didn’t do it anyway, nope

Get over it, I’m not privileged but I am innocent of the crime, somebody vented, it wasn’t me.

I play nothing, beat drums and people at video games, bring it back home to my home runs

You will never know the difference between happiness and utter despair, my daughter’s sons

My fortunate circumstance is pitched from nowhere, out of the blue, it turned purple n’ gold

In the out door and through the turnstyles of the sky’s scrapers, mighty mice and men of old.

At the ending or at the beginning, sound comes first and then the light follows the beat, tap it

Green grass cut, burned away into the clean, clear oxygen, nitrogen and hydrogen of mamas

I played game like you did but we ended it at different times, one after the other’s love flaws

Beat and blew instruments, made melodies and lyrics count for nothing but something else.

In love or out, happy or sad about the circumstances of the place in space you spend the time

It really doesn’t ever matter at all, I comprehend the blind faith and hope for a happy ending

But the truth is, happiness is either here and now in the present or it’s nowhere in the Void

Don’t believe the Truth, hope lies are true in vain, a freedom of choice, a divine hemorrhoid.

By the time you make your getaway, it won’t be a problem, it’ll just be water flowin’ over falls

As the world spins, you do too, in and out of this dynamic spin and wobble, y’all got the balls

Draw! Professors, priests and sisters have all rational thought down a cold, holy rabbit hole

Can you rob the program of magic? Nothing is magic, a faded away myth of our gods’ blows.

Punks like I used to be mature into retired civil servants on pensions, waiting for the night

Turning with the spin of the dirt, no choice until one final gasp of gas, then boom, that’s right

It’s all over at the end, no heaven or hell or purgatory or karma payment for the mortals’ sin

Just to be created and related to the offender, guilt by association, fallaciously argued, divine.

Something new, nothing old, always burning the fuel to make the power to move rocky roads

Smooth as silk with the asphalt and tar, pavement of cement, catch all my flashy flesh codes

I look, I glance, I ignore and there is nobody to take my place today or ever, on down the line

When and where’s the place and time? Rockin’ the fires, full of Word-up, a garage wall’s fine!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. June 12, 2019 A.D. @ 4:10 PM PST {always is 4:10}

{ drafted while listenin’ to Joe Walsh Daryl's House Club 48” on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/dPV6nKrhOGg }

F.I.N.I.S.