#GoodBuddiesNeverDie #HappyHours #FastTrackin

SOUTHSIDE SHOWN, BLOWN TOO

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, October 16, 2019

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It’s a matter of complete fearlessness, armor is the power of knowledge’s wisdom, a pariah

Function of the calculus is to figure out what equals another thing, one cell compare to God

Alone between rocks and hard places, sometimes stoned, sometimes drunk or both, I forgot

But the important thing is, it’s all right there where I left it, deep down in the secret 3rd eye.

Pumped up with the gas, neon lights shining brightness and words of language signs & bums

Beggars everywhere lookin’ for a handout because they’ve failed, got sidetracked by the slums

Places where the babies go with their mothers who spread their wishbones for a spoon’s tuck

Can’t say enough chit to my sisters’ sons and my brothers’ daughters, no wait, what the heck?

My nose kept me headed in the correct direction through the twilight zone, Chit-own to L.A.

Shots of whiskey poured for free until addiction got planted, an alcohol fix for a fool on weed

Songs on the radio speakin’ to my holy, inner 6th sense, protected by a mean, bad poppy seed

Old man’s bones and skin, single, married, single, married, chasin’ you, still chasin’ #Payday.

Juice in the glass or in the milk carton waxed tree pulp, it all goes down the hatch in a gulp

At some point, on the way down the road goin’ straight to the place at the center of Atlantis

Nowhere outside in space to go, it’s emptiness out there, you can only go down without help

Nobody will save you just like an orphan, when you’re dead, that’s it, caput, the end, Finis!

To the infinite power, I come to a screechin’ halt, down at the bottom of the white trash talk

Hell with place in space, it’s all there is but I don’t GAF and neither do your mamas and dads

All the dead saints and dead mortal souls who never asked for life’s conception, suckin’ milk

Toothless and clueless from birth until a finite age of adulthood, barring bleedin’ out blood.

I got blackened eyes and broken, bloody noses for saying words of the free speech lexicon

Got my arse kicked by Johnny Walker, Jim Beam and Jack Daniels on any faded away fun

Makes you forget what should never be recalled for any reason, a missing person overflow

Me, not you, I’m the one who got lost on a one way street, can’t look back, I’m gonna blow.

Gangs’ head-bangin’ ‘cause it’s either fight or flight, no other reason, odds’ even fake choices

Towns and metropolitan matrices erecting towers of Babel for the minions’ with Rolls Royces

Living and dying under the impression that this is not the end, when it is, it’s all there is fool

Talkin’ to myself not y’all, down the purple Mississippi, on a roll ever since 1971, Biloxi’s tool.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. #Mercredi ROCKTOBER 16th, 2019 A.D. @ 05:00 hours

{ drafted in effigy & listenin’ to Morganwallen TheRealBigSmo Eric Church & deep in the The Milky Way Adventure Park on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/PRcl5L11yjM }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#FoxyLadies

COMPARED TO A CANARY & A FOX

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, October 15, 2019

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Birds and wild dogs put the mothers right in their places, back up against the cave’s wall

Inside the mountain where only one entrance it the one and only exit, ‘cause she up n’ fell

Fell into the flesh and bone and succumbed to the heat of a moment or two, anticlimactic

But it’s better than the alternative, no light, no eyesight and can’t fight with a sharp stick.

Rocks can be thrown, boulders can be rolled down hills uncontrolled, bouncing, spinning

Knives and clubs can be fashioned, swords and spears, small and large lead balls to throw

All of it for the territory and the female reproductive function to multiply the herd thing

In an ooze of invisible gas, the atmospheric pressure is lost to the outer space of air flow.

Far away from the place that’s too far out to get to, it’s not my choice to miss the space

But since it must be done, I awaken from the dream that’s been disguised as my face

What looks out of the eyes and smells through the nose, tastes and touches, who hears?

Veils over the faces, reputations precede us all, lead, follow or get out of the way, Fears!

Nuts from the trees grew more and then women made a man come to high heaven’s sky

Bringing the DNA into the gene pool to achieve the survival of our animated acid, I lie

Truth is empty of meaning, it’s what it is after the sound has ceased, post rock and roll

Spun, weaved, wobbled and thrown into a boomerang orbit, this is it, all there is, GOAL!

Marks and scars from the damaged epidermal layer of bone cover, from toes to the schnoz

If I get too sozzled, I’ll need to substitute a pinch hitter into the line-up, to foozle the blood

Pain and suffering all in the mind of the adult babies in pampers, can’t get to the commode

Multi-celled protozoans on crack, on a playground of snakes and worms. as I play the blues.

A phenomenon out of the twilight zone matrix, unidentified object of the predication’s cross

Players all alone or on a team, it’s the nature of a plan to reduce the chance of failure, of loss

Practicing the same thing over repeatedly to embed the behavior and reduce a chance of ends

Too human or not, it’s the way it is, there’s nothing we can do about it, it’s out of our hands.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. ROCTOBER 15, 2019 A.D. @ 4:44 PM PST

{ drafted while listening/watching Jonny Lang HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/bb6wkH7g7zM }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#AhHehlNo #WARTheBand #ACDC

FLY ON A WALL, ON THE BORDER

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, October 15, 2019

----------FLIES----------

Frozen water in the shape of a fake heart, in gloved hands of a woman, ready to make a move

To be or not to be all, it’s not the only question but it’s all about the First Light’s time of day

What’s reality without peasants and royalty, asymmetrical triggering from discipline’s groove

Explosions induced by the pressure of blood inside a bag of bones, that’s life, the people say.

Here and now, then and there, this Time and Space, I insist it be my matrix of choice, death

This is what it’s like, dead and alive at the same time, within a New York minute’s blind faith

On the name of the game, all the people have said is just an accident of woman's’ womb soil

Silence broken by the noise of the revolution of the Earth, civilized counter revolution recoil.

Senseless like a mother’s consciousness after childbirth, glad the pain’s over until a future fit

When the manifestation of being all too human defers to being the children of divine ala Void

Black, silent, a grim darkness, nothing but what’s been annihilated, a phantasmagorical idiot

It is pitiful and simultaneously the target of my despair, to be you or me, blood, life, android.

I shudder to look at the light coming through the prism, blinded by the white rainbow in a fit

On the floor, under the ground, up in the air with nowhere to go but around in an infinite pit

Open hole in a twilight zone where sleep is awake and woke is a supreme dream of slumber

Grown without obstruction in a cemetery’s tomb, down in a grave without a breath of the air.

No fear of the hideous and revolting, blinded and deaf, without the disorder of being human

Pure food for mothers’ fathers to survive on the burned out ash of this star system’s flim flam

Growing seeds of Time and Space, now, here with no place left to go, my matrix-damned men

The new end is like the old loose end, ready to be tied but impossible to connect, it’s the Zen.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. ROCKTOBER 15TH, 2019 A.D. @ 2:11 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to #SUMMER by The Original WAR Band on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/gSQAlfyaKyc }

W.W.A.R.D.?