#FreedomToBeOutAtThePlate #JohnColtrane & #MilesDavis 1960 LIVE in @Stockholm

MITIGATE MY FORM’S SUBSTANCE

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, January 19, 2020

***********  #Institutionalization  ***********

Some kind of thirteenth ghost in a movie from Bollywood and Vino, mirror smoke clears it up

In through the out door, Donald J. Trump The 45th President Of The United States yoyo F/U

The People are fortunate to have such a fortunate son in charge of the Elder People’s jewels

Our precious freedom, our liberty to think and act as we please, under sacred Golden Rules.

Bare with me a moment if you wouldn’t mind, it’s unintentional that I ruin your contentment

I told my father, I told my mother, sisters, brothers, sons, wife, friends, no daughters I’d sent

By pony express, telegraph, telephone, FedEx, ZAPmixmail or Usmailforme, DOA condoned

Just because y’all think you’re all so pretty and so smart, you think you’re immortal, cloned!

Now then, it’s Time and Space motivating rhythm, blues and cool jazz to run on the #Dozens

Of mice and men’s signals of sound, pounding on things, blowing into things, sawin’ strings

It’s none other than the infinite Void to contrast the noise of the As, Bs, Cs Ds, Es, Fs & Gz is

Chords with duplicate notes simultaneously displayed to vibrations of bathroom vacuums.

Sucking the refuse down a deep, dark hole and mixing it in with the rocks rolling off volcanics

Erupted and isolated from life as we know it, ladies and angels burned in hell, wing and foot

You know of another explanation for the formation of this life on a planetary stage, so say it is

Dead air, nothing but silence in the night and white noise in the day, ad infinitum, ‘til caput.

Then, there at the moment you seize your brain and mind into a presence of infinite fidelity

What the dawn of the light is there at the end of the dark tunnel, you will know when you see

So what? Who cares? When you get to know the reason for Life’s reason for Death, you die

Puttin’ the magic down on the eighty-eights or the pipes of wooden metal, All’s #ShieldsHigh.

Conceive of mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers in the middle of tragedy, growing up awake

Eyes wide-open by the nature of a beast we live close to, the waxed, wooden floors in a blaze

Children and nuns with nowhere to run, nowhere to go but to jump out windows in kid piles

Bones of young and old women who attempted to save the impossible to no avail, Angels’ lie.

Wisdom’s application of this knowledge of the reasons why humanity exists are Platonic cons

Dead guys who left US rules behind, pretended to know the game, to control the Ids’ minions

Punks are the overlords and punks are the subordinates, the rest of us are here for the party

Last thought, finally, “Live free and die young!” my old friend used to say, he died on Harley!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Sunday, January 19th, 2020 Anno Domini at Five O'clock AM

{ Drafted while listenin’ to #LiveInStockholm MilesDavisLive & John Coltrane on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/k7zBmDSSwZk }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#NuclearMissiles @ApocolypseLater #DustThisBroom @ZZTop @MilesDavis & MOI

I DISRESPECT, THIS PILE OF DUSTY

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Sunday, January 19, 2020

----------------  #KindaBlueOrPurple -----------------

I’ve got a bone to pick with you and this ain’t no party, it ain’t no barbecue picnic, it’s blown

You have been allowed to run rampant through the concrete jungle and the donut holy hehl

Ladies and men don’t count in this levy of taxes for the things that breathe, ring a cowbell?

What comes before, what comes after the being you and I are, Man, disrespected Unknown!

Free and easy or in chain gangs of men and women who carry the burden, the mother’s lode

Of Gold, Silver, of Platinum, Iron and Steel, the ponies run around in circles, all my eyes’ face

For no reason at all, spontaneous combustion happens to the best of atoms and cells of bones

Prick balloons full of hot air, sit back in rockin’ chairs, wait for the final doze daze, into Space.

Rocked the face of the gods and demons for what it was worth, here to overturn the apple cart

Rotten apples make great apple pies for the diners on the side of the freeways and interstates

Angels fear to drive there on I-5 and the 405 where demons thrive on wasted, whiskey spirits

Gold dust within a charade of atomic events, quark of a God, a perfect punk, #CornPop phart.

Generals talk and a men emerge into One, dignity and respect mean nothing without the toys

Survive and be the best human, grandparents thought you could be, king or queen love blow

From an ovum and the intent of random collisions with the DNA left over by Big Banger Boys

If and only if you comprehend Nature, Beasts and the creator, THEN you’re incommunicado.

Baby girls dreaming of big boys, big daddies to bring home the bacon or not, just being alone

Without the baby boys who don’t know where they are or what they want, rolling a baby bone

All 208 of them from the first breath under the sun, out of the darkness’ holy, hot explosions

Ends of dreams comes before you even knew it was subliminal, who #Googled the life I’m in?

Search engine manipulation of cyber-libraries of the world, empty, uncracked books I loose

Lions ate my homework teacher! I did the work, I showed my work, got loose from the noose

Pricks of the pins and holes of the emptiness where beards are shaved and hair is overgrown

I’m not who you think I am or was, unidentified and behind my mind’s eyeshades, my 6 gun.

It covers my 6, it covers your 6 and if not for the bravery of lookin’ death in the eye, we’d die

Circumstances being given to you and I as a matter of accidental coincidence, death gets high

Way up there over the clouds into the deep, dark black, empty space between blown asteroids

Utter nonsense in philosophical jargon, Life is a flow of bloody water, we’re the hemorrhoids!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Dimanche, Janvier 19th, 2020 A.D. @ 2:22 AM PST

{ Drafted in defiance of a divine comedy inherited from your mama AND jammin’ to the holy, silence of MilesDavis & John Coltrane @https://youtu.be/k7zBmDSSwZk }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#HeavyTraffic #WynonasBigBrownBeaver #CaptainShiner @PRIMUS does rock y'all, eh?

AN EXECUTIVE’S ASSISTANCE SIGN

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Saturday, January 18, 2020

------------------  #HEAVYtRAFFIC -----------------

It is the way that it is for a reason, it’s not your free choice nor my own, deep thrust concept

Analyzed from the original flagellate to the ova form of infinity, a perpetual charity precept

Consequences for the First Cause of the Big Bang, there is That, this here, that there of it all

Never intentional being a mean man or ignorant human being, yet I am what I am, Adam fell.

You know it and I know it from sea to shining sea, from the cinematic psychos of holly wood

Perfection in the test tube at the lab unleashed on the minions who strive for the music fraud

They get it now and then, the need to bleed for HIPPIES, GYPSIES, DREAMERS, AND ME

Prom night, marriage night, good night Irene and that is all there is, life on Earth’s a mystery.

All for One and One for All is the motto of not only three musketeers but also just a Cisco Kid

Trilogy of Logic, Reason & Nonsense in episodic dreams, birth, living & dead Egos of Ra’s Id

Women and men no different from one another, each to one’s own phantasm of mass-psyche

Followers of creeds, tower of Babelish linguistics of Vagabonds’ Words, retrograde 4th Reich.

There’s an imagination for certain, First Cause of the images inside the head, behind 3rd eyes

Cream of the dream is at the tip top of the realizations of consciousness’ awareness of on high

Below the function of a calculus’ abstraction from the ink of plants and animals’ gypsies of I

On the hunt for beauty to reproduce the need for immortality, rewarded with mortality flies.

If I were a fly on a wall at the first moment of conception, I’d hear the words, “Uh oh! Sheet!”

Then I became this thing typing right here and now, bleeding out an early AM 7-11 java donut

I know nothing, starting right there, calm your derriere down and chill for the punch line putt

Neither got a hole in one nor saw one but I’ve seen the tiny holes and tiny balls of God’s heat.

I’m referring to either the reader or someone the reader knows, mama & papa’s Hades’ Hehl

Bringing it all on home now, counting backward from a million point five, ready, set now go

Headed toward the finish line just by reversing 180 degrees, turning ‘round to the back-flow

Shape is Form tasted by light and sight, blinded beings know no form yet feel the odor, smell.

On this middle path found by accidental movement in a paradigm spherical cube, I am all in

You are all in as well but you won’t know that for the duration of your belief in after living life

Where nobody has ever gone when they die on Earth, not even one pope or high priest of Ra

Not one that’s One and at Peace with their Soul can go wrong, it is what it is, so, bla, bla, bla.

by

r j j stephan, i { not #WynonasBigBrownBeaver though! I get it! }

c. Saturday, January 18th, 2020 A.D. @ 7:11 AM PST

{ Drafted listenin’ to Primus.us #TalesFromThePunchbowl #SouthboundPachyderm on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/yH3_H-E2Y0s }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?