#RealWorld @MatchboxTwenty #HeadHoncho @AlanJackson

CUT OUT THE SALT, CRACKERS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Saturday, October 26, 2019

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Hey now, this is a conditional, exquisite volume of sounds that mean something, dick deliver

From the origin to the destination, the wheels get you there faster, the Time and Space shiver

Aching from all of the negative feedback, static electricity and the function of ennui’s index

Above and below the pits and pendulums of Scaramouch and Brian the Dog, bone the hex.

In nobody’s dreams, not in mine or yours or anyone else’s, a matter of free will is so very sad

Given to everyone who arrives to breathe this Earth’s air, raised to live and die, good or bad

Whether or not there’s a reward or punishment for the actions you’ve performed, kill whistle

Maybe it’s not just a way to motivate the good to remain a good, bad boy, to avoid dark Evil.

Bottom’s were up, dropped out with or without you, all in the moment we were shakin’ hands

Black credit cards barricading the gold dust of the naughty witches;, goddess’ succubus, U.S.

Mothers and fathers let us go away and learn the lessons of the matter and form on the lambs

Finale of the whole skit, the charade that started this clown parade, a promised land circus.

Get your hands off of my pile of cash, no brains to get you off of this planet alive, all gotta die

World won’t stop turning until it’s my turn to move on or move out of this form, hey don’t cry

It’s either hell or high water under the bridge and you’re gonna find out sooner than later, eh

Took your turn on this ride, you rode it out bareback, drunk on a jet, kissed the ground, hey!

When I got back to the world, I didn’t know what would happen and then it flew ‘74 to ‘20

Forty six years on a thunderbolt with a periodic table of lightening from mass, form honey

Rock and roll in your recollection, in your box or in your urn, who got your truck or Harley?

It’s all that matters when doggone1 bones lose the DNA verve, in a box or an urn, I be free!

Frantic and in a stealth mode in the middle of nowhere, nobody can find me, small town

Play poker Friday nights, party down in the hollar on Saturday nights with the clan I own

Red, white and blue flyin’ high with a high volume of protective, defensive ingenuity, dogs

Serious as the bite and the bark, better be very afraid, back to Queens to live like Kings, us.

Somewhere close to where you are, it’s right there where I am, that’s hillbilly significant, eh

I could get in deep and dig down further than the core of a planet or the Sun or Black Hole

Down the Singularity where even Nothing gets no free will to resist, it’s an eternal free fall

From the place your birth in this incarnation began to the place you are now, a seed of hay.

Wheels to move you back and forth from your plush crib to your daily grind, DJ on talk show

It takes a cool redneck to stay solid and in control of reactions to smack talk, easy to cut 5150

So very hard to let that nutty, crazy, half-insane Betty-Sue fake kind of love, it’ll cost ya fifty

It’s all a matter of TIME, I’ll be thinkin’ to saddle up and ride, in Space, as above, so below.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. ROCKTOBER 26, 2019 A.D. @ 5:11 PM PST

{ DRAFTED with an ugly sob yet inspired by Alan Jackson groomin’ the muse with #FiveOClockSomewhere on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/BPCjC543llU }

 

W.W.A.R.D.?

#DogsOfWarOutTheBackDoor @AC/DC #InTheGame #TheByrds #RockOrBust #TurnTurnTurn #BallsToTheWall #HardTimes

ON YOUR KNEES, #THOR WOKE UP

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Friday, October 25, 2019

----------------- #HitMe ----------------

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In the heat of the night, when everything is asleep and hiding from the nocturnal predators

You realize that you’ve awaken from the dream, you’re walkin’ on the moon, in big craters

With or without ladders makes no difference since you can jump higher than Abdul-Jabbar

A bit lonely even though there’s LIVE FEEDS of #sports and satellite-comm from Earth afar.

Now then, I’ll box your ears off if you don’t listen up and comprehend the aces in your hands

Aware that there are some acquaintances who will forget the words, washed to the sea sands

All about the Benjamins, the gold doubloons and the black-faced pumpkins, #Trigger #me2s

If you don’t, somebody will eventually do the deed, to be or not, #StrongArm Joe Getty DF'rs.

#PrincesAndPaupers ruling grounds of being with enculturation, habitual reward to punish

Force the living to behave before dying for no special reason other than being a sinner knish

A thing to be devoured by the spirit sucker outside of this atmosphere or in the Earth core

Inside of or outside of a concept in your mind, an infant’s twerking, growing DNA’s w#ore.

One and the same dream, first asexual male/female life, #faux living amoeba and paramecia

Now and on the way to the final #BlackHole implosion, #MilkyWay galaxy, it’s me, #RiffRaff

Coming sooner or later in every sentient beings’ inherited genome, en-cultured paraphernalia

This AM, Earth shattered, I’m all that’s left, don’t cry, I am free of Adam’s struggle, LAUGH!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Vendredi, ROCKTOBER 25th, 2019 A.D. @ 10:10 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to #RockOrBust AC/DC https://youtu.be/_NdHySPJr8I }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#BowlingForBirthdays #TowerOfPower #ChrisStapleton #CanIBeFrank #UncleFrank

FORCE CENTRAL & COUNTRY BOY *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, October 24, 2019

sssssssssssss-----sssssssssssss

 

Scratchin’ on the cave walls but nobody ever reads the words, they don’t fight the power

Just a handful of resistor transistors left among the living here and now, in an ivory tower

Above and below, it’s all the same, liquid, solid and gas in one form or another, gold or oil

Value of the things that make us great, it is the thing itself, the faith in the unseen royal.

Call it the universe or the name, known or unknown, with or without a Word, a Name of It

Call it your mama, that you’ll defend and there’s no doubt without mama, existence’s skit

Call in sick to your job so everybody knows that you’ll have a great day without the payday

Fell in love with the telephone rings and cell vibrations, need a text, need you in a bad way.

Chased by the fast guys that made me faster than them, I had to get away or take a bullet

Tell my mama I love her if I don’t make it home, not goin’ far past the ‘hood, now in a patty

Wet socks and boots, feet’s skin gettin’ like a chicken’s spoiled leg bones, rotten germ-lout

I am not gettin’ any younger and I’m not a bottle of brandy, so I’ve got to get the lead out.

No honey in the hive to get me high, like I used to be, every day, every night, utopian wine

Now, this war’s battles won’t let me be alone, I am dragged by the nose hairs, deep within

My mind, your mind, the mind of the utopian universe, whatever else wants present Time

Tennessee whiskey and my grandpa’s dago red wine in the cask, in the cellar, a glass rhyme.

Host or guest in the matrix makes no difference, bones and skin just a simple man’s ticket

To the players of the game before and after my presence, bona fortuna, get ready to swing it

Maybe a bat or a sword or even your girlfriend, swingin’ like up in the vines, a 12 gauge shy

Shells in the kitchen knife drawer, some ends needed never to be begun, but I’ll fetch a key.

Truth is that a tooth for a tooth only works 32 times, the last 4 times, wisdom may disappear

Into thin air or anywhere else where there’s nothing but air and the devil, who lives o’er here

Down in the lower gully by the hollar of the cousins, crazy in-breds with booties from heaven

If’n I can’t git things on my own, then I don’t git ‘em, food, place to crash, girls to love in sin.

by

r j j stephan, i *Header’s #POTUS

c. Jeudi, ROCKTOBER 24th, 2019 A.D. @ 3:33 PM PST

{ jammed while pestering my muse, she knows why and jammin’ on #WhatAreYouListeningTo by Chris Stapleton on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/zhnMSVb0oYA } YouTube 102K I like this 5.6K SHARE

W.W.A.R.D.?