HOURS FROM HERE, ROMEO I AM
Inventing no means to survive booked, blinded and bamboozled on a teeny, tiny sea Princess
Eclipse means that there’s always something to come between short skirts and slips, my hand
Whether it’s the sun, the moon, other planets and their moons or a fake cosmic stellar eclipse
From the origin, alpha that proceeds to the omega at the end’s destination, Time’s hour glass.
Whales and porpoises, sharks and sea salt entering the seven holes, inherited by ape DNA
To the absolutely temporary feeling of being alive in a kind of dream, no power to control it
Only a random series of causes and effects that accumulate to form the philosophy of a mind
It’s better than you thought but not as good as it once was, sleeping giant body, awakened.
Paranoid and schizophrenic nature of the pampered, spoiled baby, child, adolescent human
Deeply sunk in quicksand and looking forward to getting help to pull out the life that’s left
Inside the heart and head, waving arms and sinking Nike covered feet, white Levi blue jean
In search of the ultimate Truth that cannot be corrupted by Word of a Pink Panther theft.
It’s unknown if the X factor is a divisor or subtraction, zero minus zero equaling a fat zero
Banquet for the little league of children hitting and catching baseballs around a grass park
Perfection’s the whole shebang, positives and negatives, outside and inside a neutral hero
Where it is, nobody knows, nobody can tell, everyone thinks a soul, a spirit of the shark.
Antecedent to some suspect premises which lead to a valid conclusion, prehistorically One
Comedy on stage or on film set just happens because the actors are recorded being fake hair
Up and down the bobber goes tryin’ to trick me into settin’ the hook on nothing but idol air
Cool, it’s just a fluke, the Magic inside like Disney, will never terminate the man hair-bun.
Avoid the dead meat and dead plants and you’ll starve to death waiting for the protein adds
What do you know? It’s happening all over again, the mental and physical chess game, lads
Hot and cold, good and bad, wool and satin/silk, it’s all in the game called Love, below above
Found myself in the cradle of love goin’ downstream but not yet in the cradle of True Love.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. September 10th, 2019 A.D. @ 9:11 PM PST
{ #FireInTheHOle listenin’ to Billy Idol #RebelYell & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/VdphvuyaV_I }
W.W.A.R.D.?