#OldNormalIsExtraordinary ... in #Podunk #WatchinWavesRollOffTheRocks #SippinWhiskeyOutTheBottle #SweetHomeAlabama #UncleKracker #Sundown

PRISON PRIZE FIGHT, WARD WINS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, September 10, 2019

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Warden wanted this to be this way, warden has nobody to answer to, warden is the king of us

In the penitentiary and hoosegow of the minions, keepin’ the ones who know no golden rules

Doing to everyone else everything you wouldn’t want to be done to your form, your DNA pool

Morons and idiots related to your mother and father, your friends, your aunts & uncles, cuz!

Matter that blew out of the sun’s participation in the #BigBang, theoretically plausible scree

Before there was something, there was nothing, a Void devoid of atoms’ protons and charm

Molecular generation presumes degeneration and you personally will have no idea what it is

Nevertheless, it will be what it will be, it is what it is and there’s no need to pretend, kin to be.

Snakes came first, then the slither wormed it’s way down yonder into the bowels of home kin

In a trance since way back when, all without the youngsters who had no idea what it was, see?

Cut wide open teenager captured in the web of the forces of the air’s wind and deep end’s sin

For the sake of the satiation of the beast within, I am One or Two, maybe a Trinity of scuzzy.

Big bottles of whiskey, so fine, don’t know why but they get your spirits high as the ball jars

Oh and the smoke from the acres of twisted leaves, punked and moved into the ether’s cars

Fine, so fine you can’t see it but you’re crashed in it, moved too fast and ran into the walls

Nothing left, just this and that and some words that mean nothing special, y’all got no balls!

It’s gonna be worth a try if you can jump off of a plateau into a netherworld’s sweet nothings

For us to know and for them to find out, nobody will know the end after it’s over, except God

And there ain’t One God, there are many, look at how many souls move the matter of kings

Queens have much to do with the hive, #Stonehenge or not, go find the Truth, It’s a #Hotrod.

by

r j j stephan, i

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

{ jammed listenin’ to some Littlefoot .& Alexander King #OG chit #DontWait #ROSAP #RaisedOnSkynyrdAndPac ...don’t hesitate one second link @ https://youtu.be/LMvy3BalcW0 }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#WhereRubberMeetsYourMama #NotConceived #BackToTheSeaOfLove #RockMyCradledWorld

OH LOTTI DEE, LOTTI DAH!

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, September 10, 2019

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Chicago to Texas, Florida to New Jersey to Washington and California, I fly friendly skies

I find nothing other than what I am looking for which is, my kind of town, friendly old pods

For the babies and the older folk turnin’ clocks back to the infant side of life, where life dies

We all have to roam the plains and valleys looking for the reason to be alive, dad said gods.

Home to me and home to you are two different things, to me it’s wherever I am here, so pitch

Could be the north or south side, east or west border or just inside the prison of singer’s hood

Bottom line is to breathe or not to breathe is not entirely up to me personally, there’s a hitch

When it comes right down to the thing itself, this bag of 208 bones and a few quarts of blood.

Prompt or tardy, all life matters, we kill things before we eat them, very nice, all too humane

Nothing personal meant to cast aspersions on anyone’s religion or philosophy of life in a can

Food saved from spoiling, water and milk saved from being polluted with refuse shat in holes

Sent down deep into the bored holes below the outhouse container con-game, tricks in bowls.

Fine messes we’ve created from scratch, clean slate to begin and scratched with dark cloud Id

Undercover, underneath a veneer of mahogany cosmogony, a surge of spunk emerges, um, yo

Without warning and just because the plumb needs to animate the functional essence, an Ego

Heads are really not dead, they’re deadheads drinkin’ Ripple and Spanada, waitin’ to be a kid.

Blown minds of cannibal TNT, eating ourselves into extinction, bleeding hearts of blue blood

It all comes out of me, when the heartbeat slows down and reaches the final pump of the pud

Everything is spent, everything is broken and ready to be repaired, the fix is in, I’m right on it

From the #GetGo, It’s what it is to be this me I inherited from Ma & Pa, breath in some chit.

Bent broken rules more than anyone else would have, so disobedient and such a vow breaker

It is what my great, great grandfathers and grandmothers would have expected, I paid the bill

Approached with the fatality of death, I chose to survive and live in the viral bacteria, free will

Recollect the reason why mother and father mated? For the spice of life, love of a #climaxer.

Survival of the ‘Fit’ and entertainment of the less qualified to survive on a solo flight into hehl

Not down to the core of planet Earth but to the place in Space that is nowhere in Time, we fell

Here and now, Space and Time perceived by sensation, recorded for recollection, to be or not

Mental case that ought to be in a cuckoo bird nest, locked down in a straight jacket, I am hot!

Cooler than iceberg blue, hiding the essence of the atoms’ muck and mire, a rib bone of a God

Pleased and thanked all of the Ones who came before and left before you and I arrived, blood

Just whistling Dixie in the downwind knowing that it cannot be discerned by minions of mine

Appearance of compassion, essence of divinity, God’s dam of H2O is a dam, watermelon rind.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. September 10th, 2019 A.D. @ 7:11 AM PST

{ jammed this out of the genome while listenin’ to the #BadAsse RLBurnside. Leadbelly #EverythingIsBroken on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/ckWvocU0B94 }

W.W.A.R.D.?

TIME OF DEPARTURE, ON THE 5:55; You've got to #Funkify! #Chicago

 PERFECT, AS VOID AS FUNK, IT IS #1

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Monday, September 9, 2019

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What it is everyone who didn’t know tried to tell me, showed me the ways to find out about it

YOU just need to shut your mouth and be quiet, nobody wants to know the truth or bull skit

Games of the plays in the world where animals and plants try to stay away from the hungry

All animals and plants will be eaten in the end, by the dream of the hu-men, all she hit-men.

Y’all either know what I’m talkin’ about or you don’t, if you don’t you’re a toy of the problem

Therefore, I was born to channel this ONE word through the black-white funk colored system

Where you think, therefore you are what you think, and you’re not kiddin’ that It is crazy cool

On hills or in the caves of cliffs, if there is food, fire and sex, THEY are comin’ here for it, fool!

Who THEY are? Somebody tell me...all I know is that I’m not the ONE, SOMEONE else is IT

Alpha that is the First Cause of the progress of finite Time, empty Space, cosmic comic s#it

Look at my face, listen to the nature of the beast’s scree, the empty, middle way to the Truth

Stop and listen for a few more moments, it All flows down from the volcano’s funk, forsooth.

Destroy nothing and you get nothing in return, even Steven, it’s a wash and zero net zero says

What it is, voidness’ invariability is absolute, not an atom or electronic, holy Void of neutrons

Pretend or witness with the perception display of the six senses, death of Earth’s certain, sons

That is what I’ve always wanted to tell you but I knew What It Is would ruin your future days.

Baby comes forth, child sees no evil, hears no evil and does evil once the live show begins It

Evil is Live spelled in reverse, It’s not my fault that it’s that way, It just Is, that is all, so I quit

Not one day has been wasted in attempting to become enlightened from the altar boy credos

I believe, I have faith, I’m a crusader to find the holy grail that doesn’t exist in any star’s dirt.

Funk of the morning’s afternoon is the darkness of the evening when the ignorance resumes

When the hunger is satisfied by hunters and gatherers of meat, potatoes, DNA leafy legumes

Herding and hunting for the things to eat to pass the time, spun nights’ days of blinded faith

Nothing but the next day and an imaginary afterlife dream scenario, left for the fear of death.

Written word of what this is will be uttered and shuttered due to it’s indubitable holy squalor

Word Up or Word Down, it’s the bait cast and the catch of You, is the dawn of your splendor

Eyes wide open, breathing the gas in and out to crank the mind into a frenzy, a tizzy and War

Tickled the powers, always seeking the intercourse and the party of Funk’s sea, 1, 2, 3 & four.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. September 9th, 2019 A.D. @ 4:44 AM PST

{ drafted for those who’ll never read the words here, there or anywhere, it is What It Is anyways, & It Sure Is Funky, while listenin’ to the Temptations #WhatItIs ...We could have had it #GoinOn youTube link @ https://youtu.be/GRsqdItB3gU }

 W.W.A.R.D.?