P H I L O S O P H I A

Thursday, September 12, 2019

#Senorita #Senora #Mamacita #LosLonelyBoys #GreggAllman

BYTES OF JAKO & JELLY JO MAGIC

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, September 12, 2019

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It’s as easy as it sounds, we just put on a show makin’ our sponsors happy with the plugs

We’re like #PlugsBiden, we just want to be rated high on the totem pole of Arbitron #ugs

Sincere for the most part, you never know when sarcasm will bite into a bone of you or me

Yet one and the same way every single time, there’s an origin and there’s decline, a destiny.

In WORD, I believed with the blind faith of the minions before my insignificance, but I saw

To perceive, to sense nuns’ tall tales and priests’ masquerades are above and below the law

Where they say, this is a species’ repercussion for disobeying an odd up and down corollary

An infinitesimal, unknowable theorem that neither mathematics nor epistemology will vary.

Imagine cows without boys, running with the herd, wherever the buffalo roam, there’s cows

Bulls of course and the two genders of horse, goat and chicken, all we have to do is eat them

Metabolize the life out of them and into our bloody bones and free minds of a cuckoo’s nest

It’s not the fault of the random DNA recombinations, it’s a matter of the #LuckOfTheDraw.

I asked my dad why more often than I thought because I believed everything he said, honest!

My pops did not know how to fabricate the Truth, I mastered the Art of Rhetoric, I’m the best

Not because I wanted to be the best, it just happened after I completed my mission, accompli

Corporate One, It is the narrow and only Way to get along with a Void, Nothing’s antimatter.

Mass served hundreds of times, in Latin and in English, changing a miraculous thing into me

What is this substance, this essence of chemical reactions with mitotic subdivisions’ fit to be

Your mind and feelings have no existence without the flesh, blood and bones to talk and walk

Be nice to yourself, be good to all as if they will return the favor, no harm, no foul, let’s rock!

r j j stephan, i *header Armstrong & Getty in effigy, M-F @6-10AM PST @ Talk 650 KSTE

c. September 12, 2019 A.D. @ 11:11 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to Gregg Allman #PleaseCallHome & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/RLUE8LeDcCk }

W.W.A.R.D.?

Wednesday, September 11, 2019

#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!

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.?

Tuesday, September 10, 2019

#GetDownBeforeYouGetUp #WARTheBand

HOURS FROM HERE, ROMEO I AM

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.