#ricoSacto

Wednesday, October 16, 2019

#WhatWouldAynRandDo #WWARD #DreamAlone #WordUp


NEWS-BLIND EYES FEAR US ALL
by
Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, October 16, 2019
ssssssssssssssssssTWOofYousssssssssssssssss
I wonder where I’d be if I lived before this life, right here I suppose, same time and place
This is really all there is, just me in an attic with a TV screen that gets the news, the bull
I should thank my lucky stars though, it could be worse and that would be unacceptable
When it all comes down to the brass tacks and you gotta grab whatever’s near my face.

Thinkin’ about the days and nights I’ve lain here thinkin’ about the future, why we came here
But I lost my ESP skills and now I’m stuck with human metaphysics, superstition’s nutty fear
I just wanna eat those #OreoCookies stacked on my belly without moving but I can’t even see
Trying the old levitation skills and the anti-gravity at will technique, tried to remember me.

Wasted time over there and then, here and now too because the reason for being is unknown
Brave humans and coward humans made this history, recorded what we’ve got, cover blown
Secret spells of magic showered us in the stardust confetti, rained down my destiny, Malibu
All of the mud dried, the starlight turned to sunlight, ad infinitum, blinded by an Italian shoe.

Parties are sometimes two and sometimes when three, it’s a third party, a third wheel smile
Whether you like it or not, you’ve got a set amount of time here in this place, in this dream
Or your choice of noun or pronoun to predicate the objects, bottom line, game over on file
Every time I see you I see what I saw when I first saw you, what beauty appears to seem.

It’s important to report the UFO’s you see when you get lucky enough to see one, hot saucers
All the authorities and your friends will believe you’ve flipped your lid, no lyrics, no worries
There’s no need to fear the unknown or the known, looking around to see it, nothing at all
Not a bug or a worm, no animal, no plant, just #Grey in 3D, now exposed, #Oreo down fall.

by
r j j stephan, i
c. Wednesday, ROCKTOBER 16th, 2019 A.D. @ 5:55 PM PST
{ bled this out listenin’ to my iHeart station @ https://www.iheart.com/artist/jimmy-durante-13750/?cmp=web_share }
FINIS

#SingASong #CashComesFlyin' #KeepItTogether #LeaveItAlone

HEADERS & REVERSAL DUNKS
Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, October 16, 2019
-----------#WideWingGirl------------
My knees were five feet in the air when I slammed the pea down the chain net of the rim shot
It was actually just an apple bushel basket from the Leamington grocery store’s garbage plot
I nailed it to a piece of 5’ x 5’ plywood my dad painted midnight blue, one night’s cool trips
Big boys came around midnight and ripped down the new toy, I got a real rim for Christmas.

Sweet dreams from then until now, sunny days and starry nights in the golden state of Ra
Place where the gold hides under the red dirt of the sierras, the material world of 3rd class
Pine trees from the oceans to the valleys and through the foothills and mountainous Sierra
Showers of thunder and hot rain to fill the empty holes between the deep blue liquid gas.

Do not even show up when all you have in mind is a walk out in disrespect of the #CIC oval
Now you’ll have to get a real job after the term in office you occupy for the duration of it all
A daughter or two being bullied by overbearing, uncircumcised dykes with no mini-golf balls
It’s not their mothers or fathers who are at fault for their failure to communicate my cat calls.

River rollin’ from mountaintop snow-caps to the end of the mouth where H & O flow merge
With or without all of us, this thing happens to the Earth, we are lucky to live in a brief surge
Electricity, fire and ice, consciousness evolved from stardust in empty space, god’s awkward
That’s what priests taught us in the parochial brain trust of the pope, #WordUp #RedHorde.

Up in the air and back down the court rushin’ under #nikeLight Chinese rubbers, size 19
All I need to fly high and land on the ground of my being, flush with a new bogus love scene
So it is what it is whether I give my two cents, in the surf’s sweet curl, high rip or ebb tide
Moment’s over now, dead leather hand’s bones left in La Grange, on the range’s girls in-glide.

by
r j j stephan, i
c.  Mercredi, ROCKTOBER 16TH, 2019 A.D. @ 4:44 PM PST
{ drafted while jammin’ to my radio station #RicosFavoritesRadio link @ https://www.iheart.com/artist/jimmy-durante-13750/ & you will need max VOLUME! }
<3 span="">
W.W.A.R.D.?

#GoodBuddiesNeverDie #HappyHours #FastTrackin

SOUTHSIDE SHOWN, BLOWN TOO
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.?