#ManyHappyReturnsForTheOne @MickJagger #TheRollingStones-

BONE 208, ON BECOMING A BALL *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, September 5, 2019

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I rolled the bones and I won the kitty, best pussy cat I’ve ever had, bless it’s little heart’s fray

Nothing in the afterlife for the universe’s animals other than the humans, mankind gold DNA

Expected to populate the psychic after breath where the air is not needed to live forever, see?

Pretend as if it’s true before you die and you’ll have hehl to pay, you’ll be in debt for eternity.

The beach property you won last night in a game of chance is yours with the tax burden cost

Insider operation workin’ for the CIA’s stealth group, unknown to man, you’re dead, got lost

Normal and standard for the moment, ready to mutate into whichever form supports a creed

Nothing to do but fight, eat, sleep deeply in the 7 holes, refresh them to avoid the dire need.

Features of the samples you get before your consent to become conceived for the sake of God

Invisible and without any sensory data to apprehend, the void’s blank, coastal water flood

Bearing down on the purpose and reason for being alive, forced to admit the beast’s nature

To kill, to eat and defeat the prey, defecate the remains, bury it and you and me, our future!

Paper from the wood of the processed tree pulp, we write and type and scratch inky lotions

Words up and words gettin’ down to express the notions, both known and unknown Spirits

When the Earth revolves, it spins causing days and nights of photosynthesized magic potions

Dead men leave words, new men read and argue about the intent of all the World’s fit fights.

Plastic washin’ up on sandy shores along with the oil slicks of the bleeding, crude oil tankers

Carrying toads for the lovers who want to move fast and far, in a hurry or no hurry, hu-men

Who can identify the way to laser every bit of waste in the sea of humanity’s gutless crackers

Those are the ones who boomed, hypnotized the war machine, American woman, I’m free!

For the sake of the main purpose of existence, there’s one thing left to say, short and sweet

If this is not a game, this life is then a mysterious event being hidden from plain sight’s seat

On a throne with the open, holy open pit for wasted germs inhabiting the innermost canals

Necessary and sufficient logical arguments deducing inductions to pass on to all of the pals.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. September 5th, 2019 A.D. @ 4:44 AM PSt

{ drafted while jammin’ to #GimmeShelter by THE ROLLING STONES #LetItBleed cd on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/EJRdDhnTRoo }

*#GimmeShelter Released on: 1969-12-05 Producer: @JimmyMiller Composer Lyricist: Mick Jagger Composer Lyricist: Keith Richards

W,W,A,R,D,?

#TakeMyHand #NoDont @BobMarley @SamanthaFish

NO SOONER SAID, LAW’S UNDONE *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, September 4, 2019

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She’ll follow you deep into the bowels of the pit of Hades if you’re leading, A wizard’s song

She’ll follow you deep into the bowels of the pit if you’re a leading blindman, pyre get along

Can’t see anything in the smoke, even with the two-way mirrors that aid a self conscious Id

Out of shape, there is no form to speak of, nothing to refer to other than the nugatory Void.

When the blackness clears, there is only blackness left over, nothing minus nothing for Zorro

No more can be said when the finale is staged and the last man standing falls into a glory hoe

Insider songs sung to outsiders, to mystify the mystery which is the #Unknown to God’s kids

Nobody is going down below the ground before they know the Truth, This is It, eggs in beds.

Living in the history and science books that were hand-me-downs from sisters and brothers

Fictional dreams passed on from a ghost to another until the One becomes enlightened first

Up from the South and down from the North, it’s all a matter of Time in Space for the atom

Speck of imploded mass with an amorphous megabyte of ones and zeroes sent under a dome.

Earth? Come on now, use your mind and the microscopes and telescopes, introspection fails

Truth laid down good, rockin’ row of words created anew, at the Harlem-Irving, in a ‘67 jaws

Screamin’ drag strip at the Forest Preserves off old River Road, or makin’ out for grim tales

Keepin’ the girls from screamin’ and keepin’ the taillights aflame for the law’s cross-cut saws.

Slow down Linda is what I always sing to myself when it all comes down to goin’ fast as hehl

If Linda won’t slow down then nobody will, it’s time to settle down even when you’re a tease

Gotta save a little bit for the end of days when you’re just fine but the end of days comes, I fell

Down to this trip, looks like a movie and you’ve got no idea how it ends, just know, it’s FINIS!

It is ferocious and just a series of functions from conception to inception to voidness’ Id ilk

Do not shoot the messenger with the hate darts of yo’ mama, my man, you got fear of milk

If you can’t or don’t drink it, you’ll die before you get a chance to live, a formula of my might

Power for the animation of the thing itself, a consumer whose consummation is 3 all-rights.

You’re just a punk, you papa said that to me but I knew he was just talkin’ about himself, yea

For I am the winner in the end, I would be a liar if I said that I lost, I win, I loved it alive, eh?

Not in a robot now, not in a casket or urn now, I’m here and now, not broken, all in One piece

At the fire, standin’ inside of the flames and burning skin and bones, ash of a supernova feast.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. September 4th, 2019 A.D. @ 7:11 PM PST

{ rocked listenin’ to Rock of the 60’s 70’s & 80’s on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/b6iBclM2CkI }

* header above poem is my darlin’ & me on Alaskan Princesscruise in August 2019 A.D., oh VENUS!

WWARD?

#EverythingIsIndeedBroken #CheckItAndSee

 

WORDS ARE BROKEN, SO FIX’ ‘EM

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, September 4, 2019

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Intelligence quotient is divided by the multiplication of the added to subtract a buck back

Where the rubber met the road there were only skid marks, nothing but ol’ burnt pine tar

Coming right out of the twilight zone to show you that I’ve got no tongue or spooky tooth

Everything is missing, old men broken and it’s always been that way, tanned, whitish black.

To be or not to be a snob or a slob, that’s the honor of having a free will to choose spirits

Either the good, the bad or the ugly haunt the world, the Earth, other planets and stars

All of the alpha and the omega in a tizzy fit over who is in charge of the whole shebang

It’s not you nor I, in our humane capacity to drool and drill the innocence out the Tang.

Astral plane of smoke, all too human tractor-trailer jockeys, ebb and flow on Jersey turnpikes

Highways, freeways, tollways and back-roads all contribute to the ape-men flow of old kikes

Where all of the linguistic certainty flows out of the empty Void of a tiny, universal lost mind

Inside and outside there is no such thing as after, all’s here and now, I got your six past nine.

No skin is black unless it’s dead skin, eyeballs are all too human and they’re blind to vision

Think about the language and the culture given to the babies, in utero through college pain

Justice is not what you get it’s what you take from the deal, it’s a Big Deal, it’s an Art, hotrods

Walk away when you know that you can get more favor in the mix, negotiate with holy gods.

If and when the pleasure comes from the pain you’ve lost on the way to the Void’s depository

Squeeze it tight like it’ll never leave your hug, inhale deeply, it’s the mighty fog, broken to be

On the grounded being, dirty dice roll sevens, microbe to star, paradise struggle under a sky

Hold on for dear life’s fear, thieves always bet with the house, snake-eyed dice, scroll and die!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. September 4th, 2019 A.D. @ 1:11 AM PST

{ drafted listenin’ to R.L. BURNSIDE “Nothing Man” & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/mVUIasMNdt4 }

W.W.A.R.D.?