#ICEBERG ETC

ICEBERG IS ALL THAT’S LEFT, I.C.E.

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RICHARD JOSEPH STEPHAN·MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 23, 2019

Frequency of the minutes and millennia scrubbing the surfaces of my infinite mind blocks

Causes what you see and it’s all you’re gonna get, just try to imagine a planet of crickets

Chirping away, rubbin’ the sex toys for a date at night or in your walls, all night, too long

Ego and Id get along one way or the other or extinction results, it’s the coldest shoulder!

You know what I mean, frozen bones not givin’ you the time of day, even the land of the Free

Digital or face with hands and numbers, alpha or roman numerals, it’s all same old, 1,2 & tree

Forgive the sinners who kick your ass into a corner when you’re as happy as yo mama’s bust

Compass of 4 directions up, down and all around the globe of dirty air, broke down stardust.

Philadelphia or Chicago, New York, L.A., Miami, Seattle, seen the trips of the maiden hustles

I was not amused or confused, I knew just where I stood in the middle of nowhere without us

Nobody left to stab in the back once everyone’s bled to death, left nothing but a little smoke

What do they do when they see it doesn’t bother you to laugh right in your face? Stab y’all!

Forever and two more days, for a bloody moment, I thought you were on the same page signs

You ain’t and I don’t give a flyin’ hoot one way or another, it’s a journey-trip and landscapes

With the flu or the cancer or the gout or the blues that won’t go away from your blown minds

Feature of the creature, playin’ musical arrangements of wind, percussion and organic pipes.

It’s so cold when your bones get down below the surface of the ICE, you forget about the sun

Heat is a long gone memory of the way it used to be, sweet love and warm heart makin’ Out

Or in and out if it ever gets all the way, down to the immortal part of the mortality, a soul son

A man’s or a woman’s matters not one twit, there’s no option of class or gender in the scout.

Way down at the bottom of the frozen piece of Hydrogen and Oxygen, it’s money, hot & dark

It is what nothing is, it is what we’re made out of, nothing at all, think I’m kidding? It’s stark

But it’s the reality and it’s a given, without an expectation of return compensation super stink

Bringing everything together in a sweet song of notes and chords, a melody gets got, in synch.

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r j j stephan, i

c. September 23rd, 2019 A.D. @ 3:33 PM E.S.T.

{ DRAFTED Daryl's House Club stolen from my dear mother in law’s ( @PeggyVentura ) residence, my B.I.L.’s @RickieVentura the #SportsNut office/bedroom supercharge Dell.com PC link on youTube for #ForTheLoveOfMoney (give it up, gotta have it, gimme, gimme) link @ https://youtu.be/BzWRT-PAGQk }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#'TUDE

ATTITUDE WITH NO MA AND PA

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RICHARD JOSEPH STEPHAN·MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 23, 2019

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, November 2, 2017 #reDuxx

Young colt moves around being out of the dark hole spent for 340 days, spinnin’ yarn

Snakes and loud mouth humans better than the corral and the barbed wire, rusted old

My neighbors don’t care about my stack of wood with the multi-pitch roof, got no barn

No gate, no fence, nothin’ at all but pure pasture, death punchin’ #Pine, drinkin’ #Shine.

Couldn’t do any better than my best in the show, so into this movie of mine, my part’s done

Didn’t have to fight about it since I was the only opponent to the fences bein’ broken down

If I could I would, do it over and over again just for fun, for kicks and giggles, I can’t run

My legs and arms fell off of my body along the way, my head and mind are barely a frown.

Never thought about life bein’ so short when mama and papa watched every step I ever made

Escaped from the little webbed fingers of mama, the cub’s pinky of papa, too legit lemonade

My defense, my offense gifted me to be the best at protecting kin, my soul runnin’ out of time

I knew when she was gone, it was all over except I didn’t hear the fat lady singin’ on my dime.

What’ll be will be, that’s all I’ve ever believed since the notion of intent of will went so wrong

Eternity isn’t too long to wait for miracles I’ve expected, even if they never come, I’m so good

Tail is swept up into blown wind as the prance of a showoff moves my four legs, equine songs

Wishin’ I could play thunder ‘n light on tight skins, blown horns, pickin’ EFGABC six strings.

Got ready to die like all good men, expected nothing in return, drunk, faded script #wordsUp

Punks divin’ off of the porch, swingin’ on the tightrope and flyin’ into the river of Styx’s cup

Runnin’ and jumpin’ above the rocks that rolled downstream to the blue sea’s mouth, agape

You cannot eliminate your chance once you’ve entered the game, go to jail until I cry #Rape.

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r j j Stephan, I { #WalkingSoftlyCarryingABigStick in #PottstownPennsylvania }

c. November 2, 2017 @ 12:12 PM PST

{ DRAFTED watchin’ a space walk on #NASA live on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/RtU_mdL2vBM & listenin’ to #SheUsedToBeMyGirl & HITS Live From Daryl's House The O'Jays & Daryl Hall youTube link @ https://youtu.be/BzWRT-PAGQk }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#HEYcOWBOY

HEY COWBOY, BE READY TO DRAW

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RICHARD JOSEPH STEPHAN·MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 23, 2019

You can never gallop away just because your horse is the quickest on four hooves

Keepin’ that six gun loaded is a capitol idea since if it shoots blanks it really proves

That gunpowder’s loaded in brass shells and packed down by bullets, won’t fire free

Look down the barrel into the dark, black hole and see the same thing you die to see.

Some folks just don’t listen to reason and barely succumb to deadly force in the face

So there’s always a chance that you have to kill the living to stay alive, a human’s race

To be or not to be isn’t always the only question but it may be the final one’s slue sky

No sound of words left to ring in the ear until written down on the rock’s goddess pie.

No friend of mine is the antithesis of the creator of this universe, this Earthly stardust

Illusionary delusions diverting attention from the key, the target, the price is right prize

Blazing sunshine, burning the skin into a dead tan above the bare bones and blood lust

For the sake of the Christ and the other Jesus’ in this crystalline ball of liquid gas’s lies.

Trouble is that there isn’t any that I can’t get out of with or without a scratch of my skin

Got my pistol strapped onto my thigh and it stays put in the holster until I draw within

Candyman’s what I am when I make the sweet love’s panty’s drop and cherry pops it out

You can’t see how hot the spot is when it’s burnin’ up the ground of being, my ale’s stout.

From the flow of the lead into the gold, petrified and indentured mutates into the flow

Mocha choka lata ya ya, gitchy, gitchy voulez vous couches doin’ nine to five in the glow

Of a full moon swingin’ around in planetary-like fashion, around the essence of Earth

Dreamin’ of what could be, if only but now it’s The One, it had to be, a cowgirl’s birth.

Survivin’ the fighter mode with the quickest draw ever recorded from draw to pistol bang

Couldn’t stop the bullet in the back from the coward who wasn’t old enough to neck hang

Baby in the bed, pulled the trigger of the Colt .45 loaded with my number IV, The Boss

On the blue steel under the pearl handle, hidden for the sake of a possible cowgirl loss.

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r j j Stephan, I

c. September 23rd, 2019 A.D. @ 2:35 PM EST { written while listenin’ to Christina Aguilera #Beautiful & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/eAfyFTzZDMM }

W.W.A.R.D.?