What Would Ayn Rand Do? For real? #WackedWakeUp

ALL FRESCO DEADWOOD, ANEJO!

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, September 1, 2019

--------------------------

Cacti under glass, after dancin’ in oakwood, acorn husk cells, lumbered the jacked up brick

All the symbols and signs of random, coincidental events rolled up into One savior pun-kass

If you achieve the gift of reading and writing, you’ll locate the Truth and it will be a big kick

See here, look here now, a blind leap of faith will get you nothing but a pretender’s overpass.

In the nasty city where children are meant to be mean in the streets to survive the code Poor

Nothing but hand-me-downs from cousins’ brothers, oh me oh my, 5 and 10 at Satan’s door

Perfectly supernatural and in every way at all times, a mystery of the occult magician’s tomes

Where the spells and reasons for being are listed from A to Z, 1, 2, 3 and you know my bones.

208 of them, some broken and some eaten away by the wear and tear of the breathtaking me

What I’ve done, I remember and have forgotten the evil alive, just a touch of a playboy bunny

Every moment of the Earth’s revolving, wobbling spin and orbit about the white dwarf, sunny

A skeleton key fits the padlock and opens the safe place of echoes from the Big Bang’s degree.

Just the facts that you want to hear so you can deduce a valid conclusion, it’s GD elemental

Earth, Wind and Fire become the nature of beasts who become all too humane heavy metal

Why, where and when, how and who will know what nobody else knows, that #WhoIsOnFirst

You know it, you’ve known all along, since day One, you cried without reason, the sun burst!

Sippin’ or knockin’ ‘em back, makes no difference in the end, only at the origin, dawn’s day

Dancin’ with me or the devil, your choice, it’s freedom and liberty you wanted, you gots it

Nobody to tell you what to do and when you can do it, break the law at your own risky chit

Bet it all on the sure thing, nobody can lose when everybody wins, in the end, punk, it’s OK.

At the party later than expected, my critical mass delayed the inevitable, I’m all #WayGone

Bit more than I could chew when I bit off the fat hunk of tobacco plug but hey, just don’t trip

Movin’ in and out of conscious choke-to-death upchuck, cleared My Way for a stiff upper lip

On the last day before your own final breaths and gasps cease, no regrets, you were my pawn!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Sunday Nine One, September 1, 2019 A.D. @ 1:11 PM PST

{ gestated this creation while listenin’ to #AllJackedUp by Gretchen Wilson soakin’ up some #Jack #WTHOneMoreShot on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/D0wAQNzK0Ow }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#HeartBreakTeenAgeBlues #NightMoves #SweetSummerTime #AgainstTheWind

 THANKS TO NONE, THANK DUBAI*

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, September 1, 2019

- - -

Where the historical man was hatched from the Unknown, garden of whatever, Earth hatch

Illusions began with a fear of being dead, like your ancestors, only rocks and stone to clutch

Nothing anywhere but right here and now in this Time and in point of Form of Space’s arrow

Bygones began and now they are Us and they are present to make of This, as above, so below.

Who is in charge of all of the energy and the power of this planet’s complex of Will control

Tried to find the paths, cried out loud when I got led to nowhere but a mirror of me, so old

As if it’s not obvious, my father’s Holy Name Society of the Roman Catholic diocese of gold

I’m on your side, I’m not your adversary, speakin’ pig Latin or not, we gonna rock and roll!

There will be deductions and inductions that lead to the conclusions of valid or invalid gems

Words from the mouths of educated babes and studs, mind games aplenty to pretend mimes

Making no difference at all to either the genome in general nor the kin with common DNAs

Nevertheless, from the pit of Hades, wherever that’s at in your mind, #Nirvana, #Void space.

So, my daughters, I am apologizing for the presence of my being so candid, yet I digress down

Earth spins, days come & go, we’ll live, think about it, we’ll die with a #Faker’s happy frown

As if this is normal, to be or not to be, answer is not up for grabs, this is it, there’s a song, duh

I recollect from babyhood to the present and await the invisible, indivisible One, will Be, uh...

Look away, look away from here, no wait, watch my hands, now you see me, face of a clown

Really it’s just prestidigitation of the peasant tenants of the garden of Eden, gods’ ole clan

Inside the mind, there is an idea of Nirvana where even angels fear to go but not a magician

High price right up front, you’ll need to pull the sword out the rock, drop the hammer down.

Where there’s smoke, there’s fire because it’s the effect of friction and ignition of the air/gas

You cannot make this stuff up, if you put the atmosphere in fire and burn the gas, life is fast

It goes above Space or below Earth’s core, but it won’t be above the ground, Dark dancin’ It

My father advised, just say the Word and It will be done, divine insight’s epileptic sheet fit.

It’s the way we roll, we say it just before we do it, so it’s just the way it is, that’s all, it’s done

All of the past from this point backward is a questionably recorded set of opinions of drones

Not an easy task to write words and translate from one tower of Babel tongue to Anglo-Saxon

Translations allow a tool to prove any conclusion deduced or induced, is true to a degree, son.

Playin’ the music along with the guided thoughts spin the wheels from the start to the finish

End of the race, the winner is you because you were so fast, you caused the air to blow swish

Crimson Tide or Fighting Huskies, pigskin or apple-basket ballin’, arm in arm with One lover

For real, can we talk, recollect, fall down here, I’ll wait for you, Home at last, a dream’s over!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Sunday, September One, 2019 Anno Domini @ 2:22 Ante Meridian, Pacific Standard Time (PST) Le dimanche 1er septembre 2019, Anno Domini à 2:22 heure du méridien, heure normale du Pacifique (HNP)

*Drafted while listenin’ to Barenaked Ladies yet they were like REAL on stage a few weeks {it’s been at least #OneWeek, lol} ago, in front of me & my darlin’ Carol’s very eyes, youTube link @ https://youtu.be/snZcn3Qt1xI }

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

W.W.A.R.D.?

#BobbinForApples #CosmicDebrisInMe #PyramidsAndSandyBeaches @SympathyForTheDevil @TheRollingStones #Satisfaction

HOLY ROCKS, MARS’ CANAL ARRAY

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Saturday, August 31, 2019

---------------------------

Nobody on Earth can call it quits on the nature of the Being we are on, our host out of Time

Air, salt water and crusty land, a place in Space where humans, planted animals drop a dime

Nobody knew, everyone believed in the things’ buzz that wasn’t the Truth, cool mystery buzz

Fish swim, we swim and float, even slither, dig, crawl, walk, deep sea dive or die via cop fuzz.

Headed for the underground where it appears that your hind end is covered, yet it’s not at all

Wide open, spread in a ready to die fashion, It wants to gut and cook you, baked, holy fireball

Flame to burn the hair and skin off of the meat stickin’ on the bone for dear life, all the buzz

Blood dripped, bones dried on flames of a burnin’ ball of violet waves, as above, so blow US.

Rest for the wicked right here, right now in front of your very eyes, nothing is up my sleeve

It’s invisible to the naked eye but if you squint and stare intently at the source, a pet peeve

Square knots on my head from my professors beating sense into me, scars and tattoos left

Head to toe, there’re left over pieces of unconnected, misshaped puzzle in a graveyard shift.

In the city of demons and angels, the town I was born and raised in Outerspace’s sacred cow

No good at geometry or any algebra, mathematical certainty is a moot point, God’s neon flow

Learning how to teach the minions by trial and error, evolution caused a hairless, pink critter

Make out with lips, hug with arms afoot, legs of DNA ebb’s flow, about a blue moon-lit river.

Death to Life and living to eat the dead and cooked muscles and fat, bone marrow gold dust

Questions without answers are unacceptable, existence of life means only that, it exists, lust

For the good, the bad and the ugly, revolution and wobble during Force’s elliptical sinshines

Boiling gas spun in a cosmic stagger with atomic fission-fusion’s electric, burning neon signs.

Mercury to Pluto, from a solar protuberance to the astral dust belt in revolution, orbital atom

From One to Many things out of nowhere, spontaneous combustion’s gravitational collapsin’

Provides the meaning to living, breathing in and out, eating the living bums, dyin’ like scum

Who eats us? Nobody, we’re whistlers’ predators, the 1 & ONLY, holy H2O, OMG children!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Saturday, August 31st, 2019 A.D @ 4:44 AM PST

{ Magnificent creation from The Void, WORD to persuade everybody of nothing; drafted listenin’ to Eric Clapton @RAH24CaratBluesBand LINK @ https://youtu.be/7ciA9tMAaRo}

W.W.A.R.D.