@JoanJett @ZZTop @MidnightOil

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POTUS’ MADEMAN @RUSHMORE

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, June 20, 2019

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Begin at the end, where angels fear to go my friends, A MAN was born to reverse engineer US

New men and old women trying to be the olden ways they’ve been since their diaper day trust

Where the games get played and the citizens play on one another, a real man comes to stop it

Morons and idiots triumphed to the 535 members of our “Homeland Security” in error, F me!

Fortunate or just opportunist matters not one twit, not one tweet, not one post on a face tome

Washington said, if you wake up and you are #POTUS in the #WhiteHouse, you’re The Man

Every POTUS from the first one to the present one is the top dog of the military generals talk

MidnightOil619l burns brightly until it’s returned to the #312, prepare for home’s long walk.

We need wants and desires of the people to coincide with the founding fathers’ freedom force

Aliens are anyone who was not born and raised in the USA and the citizens of the world ARE!

They cannot depart their own country to come to the USA unless they are SENT by the CASH

Sealed borders, north, east, south and wild west will change the tragedy of the Trojan Horse.

When the food and the water turn into the refused and recycled human autoimmune wrecks

I will pretend that you are not an idiot or a moron as we all induce/deduce conclusive specs

Agreement is not required by the Earth’s wobble, revolution and orbit around a Holly Wood

Asleep in a terminal coma, divine and all too human, supreme bill of rights, we’re #AllGood.

by

r j j stephan, i *When the generals talk, you better do what they say...” - The Midnight Oil

c. June 20, 2019 A.D. @ 4:20 AM CST

{ drafted for #Reelection while listenin’ to #MidnightOil on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/mqP61lGsXOM }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#IFO's #FuFighters #WeAreThem #SpaceTimeWarp

#NEVERMORE : THIS HERE STUFF *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, June 19, 2019

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My pop, my progenitor, daddio, my papa, to me he was the Big Man, down to the core

Cousins, uncles and friends never got close to the essence of God, which to me is Pops

Looky here now, he started my life with mother’s conception, I am here in the out door

This is a sort of mental syncopation with the solar system, galaxy and universal #hore.

Bombing means winning my friend, let us get the terminology straight up, pour another

Jack Daniels always opens the mind to the Truth, it’s naked and well formed my brother

Don’t let the little or big sisters or their mothers persuade you into the vortex swirling

Straight down to the center of the #Singularity you’ll go, without intent or will, #Nothing.

Don’t drive when you’re drinking the kool-ade of your mothers, fathers, sisters, eh, anyways

They all know nothing more than the least of the bums on the corners, under toll & freeways

Do not play with me in this sand box if you’ve no pail or shovel, my hand can wave my glove

Begone Satan, bad guys of terrifying parents who punish with war and violence, peace-love.

Now then, back to the Void of outerspace outside of this planet’s surface, a world’s torso

Words to flesh out the argument will not only seal the wounds of the unknown but also

Provide hope for something more, not Nothing, nothing at all, OMG the look on your face

Total stasis without being moved at all, sitting and standing, being in One place in space.

In all fairness, nothing is fair in the middle of Space and Time, #RelativITy spec & gen-ers

It’s a unified theory of the nugatory which is all there is including your foodfat-full gutters

Where the sea and dirt of the seeds are transformed into the cosmic dust blown tiny bytes

Computer data, soil of the ground, dead stardust we are, it’s very fine, my divine insights.

Stop. I ain’t your mama, I ain’t your daddy, you are the orphan, the fool, the monkey meat

If you don’t wake up before your surprise death of your body and loss of your soul, it’s defeat

You and I and everything alive came here to survive the holocaust of the worlds’ end game

Annihilation into a Singularity, gods, angels, devils, good, bad & ugly, aw, ain’t it a shame?

by

r j j stephan, i *WORD from A Singularity-In-Your-Mind, - Ravenpoe Photography

c. June 19, 2019 A.D. @ 7:11 AM PST #Mercredi

{ drafted while jammin’ to The Facebook Church of Armstrong and Getty on the i-Heart station of mine, link @ https://www.iheart.com/live/talk-650-229/ #NationalAandGDay }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#SPACE #TIME #ONE #DoNotGivePeaceAnyChances

BUSTED FLAT ON A TRIP TO HADES

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, June 18, 2019

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Not really me, it’s more like you than I in a manner of speech, pig Latin and man Latino see

Two hundred pounds of flesh and bone, brain and mind moving in and out of my holy Time

There you have it, the conclusion you’ve come to based on assumed philosophical History

This here revelation means your written words in every language are words of dead Slime.

Nothing is left to say without subjects, predicates and objects of the ‘all too human’ qualities

Of the living quantities left over from a #BigBang or accidental atomic fission-fusion tease

Will to the power of exploding the universe into empty voidness’ silence, it’s we all want kids

Yours and mine and everyone else have the children who will learn to terminate the stupids.

Carved initials of random sounding vibrations of air, etched by my hand on coastal Redwood

Knife scratchin’ wood and blowin’ wind to clear the new blond scratch of cells, unweathered

How fortunate to be in many wrong places at the right times, lucky always right place & time

Find my body’s soul willing to become the moved, unmoved one, egg in a pouch’s fake rhyme.

Down and up are the only two places to go, there’s nowhere else, no other dimension of Time

This space on Earth is all there is anywhere, outside the atmosphere, there’s no, “my God!”

Nudging Catholics, Christians, Protestants, Calvinists, Buddhists, Atheists’ plethora history

Why you and your mama, papa, sisters, brothers, cousins, sons, daughters do it? A comedy!

Immortal pretenders to an invisible throne, wield the sword and fire the guns, a salute to me

Not really me, it’s more like you than I in a manner of speech, pig Latin and man Latino free

Safety in numbers only when you’re not at the outskirts of the mass of atomic gas, I’m kiddin’

Just sayin’ there may not be any afterliving in heaven or hell or limbo, we are The Mortal Sin.

by

r j j stephan, i *DEDICATED TO MY Ma & Pa, @Tree & @Sonny Stephan memory of our #Faketrip { ...to Monterey, California BigSur Pacific Grove, California The Redwoods In Yosemite <3 span=""> }

c. June 18th, 2019 A.D. @ 7:11 PM PST

{ Fools listen to RUSH, as I do, as loud as possible and write poetic justice as above, so below and It’s got nothin’ to do with my opine, HA! link @ https://youtu.be/VrBWZscNR18 }

FINIS