#RichardHeadsWelcome #TieYourBootsUp "Y'all workin' even when it's hurtin', up early with the birdies..." #FullThrottle #FixAMonkey @SamanthaFish rocks! #OhYeah!

FIX A MONKEY, AN AMORPHOUS ‘G’

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, February 2, 2020

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Jokers think they’re winning when they’re losin’ it, bit by bit, no #Bettys left alive with pot

Tomorrow I know that everything will still be everything and the Smoke won’t be anything

In a spatial warp of time lines, penetrating the rainbows of dark angels all karaoke singing

No flights for the ghost who gave it up, six was nine on cold, dead ground, like a flyin’ swat.

Pertaining to the rainbows and the interstellar space above, birds know they’re stuck on a ball

Inside a dome of air, creation of breathing plantation animals, microbes of a Hollywood show

Searching for more life than you’ve already been graced with, jealous of your sister’s later call

Dixieland’s Graceland are just north of Never Never Land where angels fear to go get a blow.

Easy to corrupt the innocence of the children who depend on their host to teach golden rules

Mortgage the youngsters after-school to the corners of the streets down the square block pool

Of men and mice and rats and roaches that animate the garbage and junk of humanity’s yard

Dump it where White Trash fears to go, make room for new, recycled crow, up & down bard.

Remember it all, hook, line and sinker, recollected a Presentation of my life, dire straight says

Recollection of my skinny bones and fat muscles in atrophy, ash in an urn, no free S.E. Cupp

Liberty is a phantom of the holy ghost that moves the DNA of cells dipped in an acidic hiccup

Pennies from heaven for you and me to keep us quiet until the Last Supper of Santa Clauses.

Using facetious puns to misdirect the attention from the present to the past, ignore the come

From nowhere and nothing in particular comes everything in general, amazing I am the One

Not you nor anyone else in particular, All is One, from a piece of charm’s invisible electron fix

Aristotle enhanced Plato’s dialogue for the nature of the Beast, scree screams 9’s got your 6.

You want greed and you get what you paid for, priceless subjects predicating objects of desire

Mental cases comin’ into the front doors in a straight jacket and belly full of sedatives on fire

Uno, dos, the only numbers that really count, 3 up to infinity’s matrix, that’s a Trinity’s funk

Animated the Unmoved Mover inside of your sullied soul, Original Sin’s sixguns, laugh punk!

Shotguns and arrows flung from cross bows to speed wisdom’s point into a dirty mind of Eve

She gave it all, form & matter, things themselves, gave it up to Adam, micro problem reprieve

Nothing else to do in the ennui of Eden, 2 fuq-forbidden fruits, burrowed up, sorry demigods

Deus, Zeus, Jehovah or Ala's Savior, wisdom in One, Joshua, Siddhartha or Buddha hotrods.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. February 2nd, 2020 A.D. @ 4:44 AM PST

{ Created from the Void this AM, excused while I kissed the sky listenin’ to the #Beats of Ramones’ #HeyHoLetsGo #Greatest Hits (2006) on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/9xmRt_2Aia0 }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#DontCrashNow #SonOfA #WeWillKickYourAssassin #Tree is what my pops used for #3....also, my mama's name, #Tree..... yo, yo! 1,2,3,4....

TREE OF MY FAVORITE EARTHLINGS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Saturday, February 1, 2020

We all only got what we give, what we gave may not have been enough if we’ve got it, nothing

I’m right behind y’all on the way to the end of the road where nobody gets off on a finish line

Taxes every year on the labor of you and yours, paying for only the Power of One knows, jinx

Pretenders following the leaders into the Black Hole where angels fear to go, age of a sphinx.

Dreams in a form of music that plays sounds of notes of scales without being seen, air waves

Interpreting the given into the style of the way of your beasts of burden and your saddle bags

Carrying things and memories you can’t forget from the cradles to the graves, deep in a sink

It may be true or false but nobody can come back to tell us one way or another, truth is Pink.

It’s a musical philosophy, words and rhymes and beats and riffs and runs up and down scales

In the middle of it or on either end, the infinite line has no being in angular, triangle squares

In the cubed heads above the necks of 200 bones, less the cranium, headless horsemen know

Where and when this thing itself is presented in egg, matter of DNA stardust-form, it’s a go.

You get what you got because it’s a return on what you gave into the genome, evened Stevens

It’s all there is between the essence of the matrix and your own id and superego, I am the sins

All of it, every single atom and charm in the struggle on Us, in the Void for a karma kid’s ear

No way to know and one way to find out, hit home runs is what we do, one, done, outta here.

Below a bronze statue of an immortal bunny rabbit, still got the music in you, teens grow up

Just a minute ago we were hidin’ from papa and mama, now we’re goin’ solo or duo stuck-up

Kicked my arse in for no reason other than to shame the unknown, the last One to even hurl

Neither you nor me, myself or I, not your betrothed spouse or your steady friend, a #boygirl.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. February 1st, 2020 A.D. @ 1:11 AM PST

{ Drafted in moments while listenin’ to some #DreamersDisease #YouGetWhatYouGive by THE NEW RADICAL 激進份子zzzz on youTube link @ https://t.co/bI1GRLZjm0?amp=1 }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#IsThisMusicInYouOrNot #SUPERBOWLSaturday

FEBRUARY, SPELL IT RIGHT LEFTY

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Saturday, February 1, 2020

- - EGOISTIC GNOSTIC PLATO- -

Jig was up about a hundred years ago, back in the days of grandma and grandpa depressions

Of the men and the rats who ran the streets in the alleys full of trash and the men who pick it

Highly paid for takin’ the trash to the dump for the minions to crawl about and find the gems

Thrown out accidentally, white trash and brown grounds and black ashen dust of her hymns.

God had no loins, that’s why we’re here to show off the creation of flesh and bone from Space

Matter in the hands of nobody you know, occult, magical effects from spells of a wizard’s face

Crumbled bones, dried up blood ready to be wet and flowing once again, dead but never gone

What moves you, moves us all remains alive when you die, it’s a tour de force, all too human.

Now in this presence of Time in this Space, recollection is everything, never forget the Truths

Cause is One First movement in the middle of nowhere, inside of the cosmic egg of a dark Ho

Hard to get in and easy to get out, that’s the way love is baby, narrow way it’s always been too

Fathers of mothers who make sisters and brothers from just a shot in the darkness of Fruits.

In the garden of Eden I had a thought, I was hungry for food to move through my upper GI

Tract of my beer and pretzels, mustard, catsup, pickles, lettuce, tomatoes, Super Bowl Brie

Dips into the gullys of the chips and celery sticks, cream of the dill or the garlic bulbs, I win

Bet on it, the team that wins has the realm of football gods above, y’all promised to Star in.

It’s over when it’s over, it’s said by many since grandma’s hands tucked me into a revolution

Rapid pace of days & nights, increasing the gods’ fizz, darkness overwhelms cosmic sloe-gin

We run, we walk, we crawl and we roll slow or fast when we step on the gas, burn mortal sin

From Hell-fire, Super Bowl Holes & White Dwarfs come divinity’s bet, holy defecate, I win!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. February 1st, 2020 A.D. @ 5:55:55 AM PST

{ Drafted #SuperBowlXIV Saturday before the Light of Dawn spun into my window while listenin’ to #GrandmasHand by Everlast on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/4f-PVsqtzVU }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?