#OrElseJustForgetAboutIt #MakeItRealNow @CarlosSantana @JoeBonnamassa

LET’S RUMBLE! CATS’ SKINTIGHT!

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Monday, January 20, 2020

It may be a bet in your mind only or at a track or on a book, where angels hook drop C Notes

System of the cats with nine lives as witnessed by the queens who revered the felines’ coats

Calm as a lion or a tiger or a panther, even a cougar or mountain lion or ocelot, they eat us

What do you think they can do when they’re hungry and need to feed themselves or the puss.

It won’t be long before the end that’s near turns into the happening of the thing itself & how

Only the powers that outlast your and my occupation of inherited luck of the proverbial draw

If I might go out on a limb and suggest my opinion, we are neither Stalin’s nor Hitler’s sins

We the people here and now are responsible for the words we sing and shout, above the din.

Amazing that you got here to hear and sing even one short song or a cavalcade of a noted beat

Around the corner or just standing right there on it and waiting for the girls to go by, two feet

Legs up to here or there, depending on your point of view, it’s all good, up or down pleasure

To be the sight or the seer of the mirror image of God’s best formed angel from stardust pure.

Nothing to dance for other than just because you think you’re so pretty, you made the grade

Mrs. O’leary’s cow never kicked over the bucket to start the Chicago Fire, it was a band aid

On the heated end of spontaneous combustion, the cow pies filled the barn with gas to blow

Since the Mrs. did smoke a pipe, out behind the barn where it appeared safe, trick of a crow.

Bibles or catechism skrees in pamphlets to show the innocent and the enlightened mind’s eye

Down the center of the forward direction, never sideways or backward, respected I, every day

Penchant for appearing connected when it’s really the way to be aloof, disconnected hot wire

Coming into a laser fight for freedom and power we appropriated, 9ers win, cats are onfire!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Monday, January 20th, 2020 A.D. @ 11:11 AM PST

{ Drafted listenin’ to #Supernatural HITS @Santana #miAmigo Carlos_Santana https://youtu.be/XxJDpyETDjE 

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#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.?