#GoToChurch #GoToHehl #NoSugarTonightInMyCoffee @GuessWho #ICanFixADrinkToo @911 #911

A GIRL’S IN IT? #911 SALTY PEANUT

by
Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, September 11, 2019
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Put something missing where it’s supposed to be, discover that life in a Mariana Trench glove

Something to eat, something to drink, somewhere to lay your head without a worry my wart

If you put a girl in it, everything seems a lot better than the first time, nothing like a last one

I remember the final one, the last one, the last time of huggin’ and kissin’ the dream comin’.

It’s holy, it’s sacred and it’s the good life of dancin’ under the moonlight, spirits in the night

Drinkin’ cold beer and some white lightenin’ firewater, it’s the party we all came for fathers

Keepin’ the mothers away from DNA stash and the cache of cash works for minute, shakin’ it

That is the end of the tune, right there with fingerprints and facial recognition of my sisters.

You will and you think that is all that it takes to cause the effects of life and death, final idea

From one big mouth to a loud mouth, inherited by the DNA of the gene pool, just say it! Dah!

When the doubts leave your soul and there’s nothing but the star stuff, cosmic menudo of Ga

Everything between the matter, the Void is the matrix of conceptual analysis’ core, a panacea.

With or without you and I, without the thoughts and history of Mankind, there’s just Rocks

Wind and Fire whip around the burned out star stuff we came from, the Ra, the Ala peacocks

Roosters and hens, bucks and doze, mamas and papas, spin, live and die in Evil and in Good

Time is tight and shorter than you think, assume you and your soul will be consumed food.

Maybe not eaten by an animal or bacteria or a virus but for certain, disintegration’s specialty

Integration is indentured servitude to the powers that be, controllers of the taxes and royalty

Like the wizard of Oz, it’s all behind the curtains, hidden from my Skynyrd in Muscle Shoals

Why are YOU alive? What will happen when the 7th dwarf dies? Snow White’s funk, Holes!

by

r j j stephan, i

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

{ drafted while listenin’ to WAR THE BAND #CiscoKid & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/rvYODVTHC2I }

 W.W.AR.D.?

#GetDownBeforeYouGetUp #WARTheBand

HOURS FROM HERE, ROMEO I AM

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, September 10, 2019

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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.?

#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.?