#IDkNOWS

ID KNOWS WHAT IT IS, HOMER ZIP

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, November 7, 2017 #reDux

I used to fret about the vibrations above and below this ground of being this man, here, now

Suddenly I didn’t care anymore after I turned sixty-six without a word, not a peep in the sty

Just looked around and saw nothing but me, myself and I without mother’s breast, father’s Id

Put me in the center of this solar system’s food, gas was the matter that mutated into a liquid.

Left me in a corner with no dreamscape of things themselves, empty, dead air and a deaf ear

Life is going to go on without me in a day, a year or a century or two, SpaceX can’t even tell

The momentary lapse of my reason when my last breath comes and goes in a huff, need beer

Blown smoke for so long that I couldn’t find my Sex WAX n Rock n Roll but it rang a bell.

Harmonize the harmony of the spheres inside and outside of my head’s conscious awareness

Waited for just the right time in an empty void, when Space didn’t mattered less, at the gate

Of heaven or hehl for mice and men who came, conceived in eggs’ DNA-coded insanity’s nest

A party full of blue waves in a deep sea of H2O and grounded sand cooling the fire, too late.

Not to be the choice of pricks or a jabs in the fake face that can’t see itself, refracted mirrors

Screams of the little pretties who stand together all in a row of flesh and bone, wanting lovers

None of them can be the One out of the Many who see, hear and feel no Evil among the Good

Locked in a World Series of infinite proportions, kissed, dancin’ to gravitational force’s mood.

Beachboys and seagulls on the sand with wooden and plastic boards of bullet-like perfection

Ready for the swells outside and inside, sounds of the city of angels at my red-tan, baggy chit

Entered the drink and scooted on top of the aqua-blue glass of my mother’s Earth, out of It

Nothing original or mortal about the little surfer girls who live forever in my mind’s eyes sin.

Back to the future I’m never gonna see with these four eyes, Florida Keys’ Kokomo, my peace

Jamaica, Bermuda, Key Largo, Montego mattered less after Destiny’s Milky Way stop sign

Dreamy looks between my blues-fed eyes and your brown-glow skin, wrapped ‘round mine

Daughters and mothers, sisters and grandmas’ made it all worth the trip, beauty was so fine.

Leavin’ the palm trees n’ sand, concrete and steel sucked all of the life out of my 208 bonings

Tucked between my recollections of what I can’t remember, can’t even recall my ten hangin’

Far, far away in no place you know or will ever believe while you’re alive, broken gods waved

Satisfaction guaranteed but never delivered before the next day after my Id couldn’t be saved.

by

r j j Stephan, I Richard Joseph Stephan #FunFunFunNowThatDaddyTookTheTBirdAway

Blovember 7, 2017 Mardi @ 6:06 AM EST

{ written on the island of wood, four legs on the floor, listenin’ to the The Beach Boys #LostConcertHITS of my bro-in-law’s PC (RIP Rick Ventura) on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/5a4YupnT1sM }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#EQUINE

EQUINE & THE CAMPTOWN RACE

by

RICHARD JOSEPH STEPHAN·SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 22, 2019

Love has nearly nothing to do with any of it, it’s all a matter of luck and being in a right place

Not a small task but it’s a no-brainer in the the quarter mile or the last furlough, it’s curtains

Everybody and every horse loses to the champion, the leader of the pack from the back’s race

Over the finish line after losin’ the others down the stretch, won by a fix of the whinny’s’ face.

Mountains of Earth to the outer-space, outside of the stratosphere where there’s no water fall

Only inside of the atmosphere right here and now do you experience the thing itself, wet ball

No sweat just rainfall from the lakes, rivers and sea, no H2O can escape the inevitable finale

Love, hate, good or evil, matters not a byte, tweeted it ad infinitum to an invisible #Paypal.

Jockeys and trainers all agree that it’s the horse’s nature to race around counter-clockwise, go

Counter-clockwise it is as usual, it’s the way of the horse, speeding with man or woman atop

In the soire dreaming brings the present into fruition, it comes alive from a cellular dead end

Nothing’s made in the shade ‘til the sun goes down under, blocked by stones of the redwoods.

#Hashtag my handle and start the reggae chant of the spooky teeth in the mouths of the babe

My babe and yours, they all are the same, daughters of the Eve and Adam of us all, I’m saved

From the beasts of burden and their progeny, my kin and the dregs of society, a fly-by grave

In six feet of dirt over a box and an H-bomb in the dust of a city of Bad Smells, yeah, a rave!

Back in the stalls where the jockeys and trainers never go, the bet’s on the bay, she will not fly

A thousand on her and it’ll turn into a million bux nobody will ever see, it’s a cloudy, blue sky

Performing an act of contrition which will end the wobble and spin, we supernova the dreams

Black and white, seven continents of ebony alabaster, dead in a rally in the alley of schemes.

Gonna have to put her down, terminate her breath just because she broke a leg, Rx can’t force

Heart attack won’t ever reach four legs and the mane, drug a sleep, stiffness’ gift, a hot corpse

Gather around and talk about how great the body worked and performed, won a wage of sin

Trippin’ to home, to die for, for the men and women who watch the drag race, just do it, win!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. September 22, 2019 A.D. @ 13:55 hours in the PM

{ It’s a good day for a #100th birthday party in the middle of paradise, garden state where Love is found everywhere you look, everywhere you see the mighty #Reggae, link to this inspiration Steel Pulse #BluesDanceRaid youTube link @ https://youtu.be/C00kS7A79UA }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#JELLO

JELLO TO ALL, GOT A HOLD ON ME

by

RICHARD JOSEPH STEPHAN·SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 21, 2019

For a final count starting from zero on the way to a turnpike’s detour onto 6 PM #Fakenews

Mixed the powder of the power with the H2O liquid of everything on Earth, got Jello mouth

Detergent in my wheaties and soap in my cheerios, the elixir of non-champions, holy doubt

I am One and if I had my dithers, I would be two of me, we’re in the middle of the deep blues.

Adios and valla con dios amigos and amigas, you don’t have to return the salute, I get it now

Tribute to the sins of the fathers and sons hung upon mothers and sisters of a farmer’s plow

On the way to a slaughter with the rest of the herd, it’s a Wendy’s double blue-cheeseburger

In paradise or on Earth, it’s all the same, if you eat matter, it must be evacuated to outhouser.

Performance enhanced by the excitement of the terror expected at any moment, God high up

Or low down, side to side and inside out, the whole shebang is in the grab bag’s fully teed cup

Herbs and spices move the inner thing itself to the end-all, the be-all, omnipresent, holy Void

Steroids make me feel no pain, the injury and breakdown occurred, death threat I can’t avoid.

Ways to the final destination and the means to move the dream along nightmare lines of dots

Leading to the back of your head, what you stare at in wonder, in a sight unseen, cyber-bots

Programmed to mingle with the organic matter of consciousness, shift, alt, delete like butter

As if what was, never was and never could have been, on to a new horizon without a rudder.

In the heat of the daylight and the frozen, ice cold of the twilight night, I eat hard looks’ food

Ugly and without any positive Karma left to hide inside of the furnace of the rubber soul dude

The God, the gods, the One who began what is begotten right here and now, front and center

At attention or parade rest, it’s always at ease for feet to the knees, it’s a patriotic mad hatter.

For the points connected between One and inifinity, in the valleys and on the mountain tops

Fathers and mothers gave all of their inner savings to the dreamers and their keystone cops

Trouble is a little or a lot, either way, it’s just a little bit of soul gone bad, too long in the Void

No connections and no relations to the Thing Itself, witch’s brews swigged ‘til magic played.

Dead and gone, babies and I, everyone on every continent, in every town, melted Gold

From the dark, colorless lead poisons of the solar nova, I arose and I’m here, now Old

Been through the baby diapers, schools, jobs and the waiting for the last breathing, gasps

Notwithstanding, the wigs and the passports to get you from your hometown to my wasps.

Vacant stores on the shore and in the middle of the heartland, nobody to buy the matter back

From the ground to the treetops and down to the core of the planet’s spinning rock, we frack

Only to mine the holy of holies and put them all down for the One, last One standing, a Monk

Not a monkey, not an ape but a monk, all alone, like a God in a twilight zone, my #Slamdunk.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. September 21st, 2019 A.D. @ 5:55 PM EST

{ drafted while jammin’ to #TheBoss, Bruce Springsteen #Fire in concert & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/d5PoIrcyd34 }

W.W.A.R.D.?