#BlackHolySons #BlackHoSun #Gitterdone #Soundgarden #FooFighters #PRINCE #HomerSimpson #MimiCarey

 

A BLACKHOLE GHOST, MY FOO FOO

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Sunday, February 23, 2020

- - - - - - - - - -  SOS  - - - - - - - - -

On the far-side of the moons of Pluto, there’s a thought about an idea that’s too close to gods’

Without knowing what’s going on at any given moment in Time and Space, you race hotrods

Just because you thought you were so pretty, you may or may not get the point, now it’s moot

From the crowns of the flowers that rise above the stems and seeds that are givin’ a holy hoot.

It matters very little but one thing’s for certain and for sure, indeed It Is The One, it’s all good

Better and best of bad and ugly squares make the whole world go Lady Gaga Foo Foo, so sad

Rebel Yell electrons around the neutrons and protons of simple atoms, theoretically, my bad

Not for any small reason, I’m going to admit it, it’s shocking but true, I’m dreamin’ ugly, boo.

Not just that I am dreamin’ but that I’m dreamin’ that y’all exist on the plane of a planet

In a New York minute or just a moment before the descent into the Singularity’s Big Blow

Tellin’ you that an angel, devil or alien UFOs are mere DNA mutants from Island Morreau

Mixed up in a hodgepodge of surrealistic pillows that nobody is allowed to sleep ‘til sunset.

Silence in the loud bangs on the gongs when you go deaf and your ears won’t hear the beats

Toes tappin’ to the rhythm of the near side of the far side and every side but the East side

South side like the West Side is nothing like the North Side, where I come from, the streets

Played baseball, softball, hockey, Frisbee, four corners on the dead end, one way easy ride.

Any man on Earth who hasn’t analyzed his personal limitations by the by, hehl, he’s 5 for five

Hard to hit that percentage right on the money, it can be done though, wings up, got your six

Fully optimized with the faith of blindmen with ocular degeneration, sometime to be US alive

A man about town from Illinois said that there were fathers Abe called ours, 87 years of 1776.

A reality of Monsters who want to scare you and your kin into fake battles of war game debts

You and I will owe all alive and dead, unimmaculate conceptions of infancy, Will’s empty sets

Nevermore will liberty be the feeling of inhumane omnipotent omniscience, to be me, at one

Blind boys look up, down, 360 degrees around to see a 20/20 vision, I blackout, my only sun.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. February 23rd, 2020 Anno Domini @ 6:66 AM PST

{ Drafted listenin’ to #HERO in a loop de loop MariahCarey Mimicareyou link on youTube @ https://youtu.be/0IA3ZvCkRkQ }

#TattooTear @CountDracule #RickyLeeJones & #SadGirl @Everlast @RollingStones

#DoTheJerk #ThisMeansWar #MontyPythonFlyingCircus

DAY, 2-20-2020 A.D. GENI FLIPPER *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, February 20, 2020

- - - - - - - #NothinSpecialButYouYouYou - - - - - - -

It’s been a while, eh, since day 1-1-1 A.D. there’s been a discrepancy in utero, fake music light

Multiplied subtraction damage from extracted recombined codex of DNA’s holy infinite fight

Gave it to you and me right there down the middle of the pipe, in the pocket’s sweet spot core

Dying a moment after I’ve come to Jesus or high heaven just because I can, a cracker at four.

I got some music left inside of the deep, dark space place between the star dust, blown suns

Father of the suns just a byte of unknown “x” of the thing itself, what it is to be a man’s guns

Arms of biceps and triceps to be stroked as if it means anything more than a form of apemen

From swingin’ through trees on vines to running, walking, hiding, trapping & eating spawn.

On a joy ride in style of the kings and queens who never had a want or need unfulfilled, alive

In a mortal bag of skin full of 208 bones, hooked up with sinews moved by thinkin’ it’s Live

Transformed in the process of transubstantiation’s miracle of a pretend happening, I forget

The rest is history you can find written down on paper in twenty some dialects of lingo debt.

You got what you gave the entire time you’ve been seven, an age of reason, logic’s rational fun

Invasive from the core of being to the current affair of being in harm’s way or an easy Big One

Like Big Sur or a Big Dipper, nearly unimaginable good graciousness, musty King Kong balls

Serious waves movin’ with the rhythm of the moon perturbation and Earth’s wobbling walls.

Crying because I can’t laugh anymore in this darkness left over from the grateful soul train

First Cause keeps it moving and pulling the entire universe back into the implosion fashion

Temperate, cool heat of Gold states; dreamers with a demon immersed, bent H1N1 v-disease

On a knee bent for honor at nightfall, fell apart & gave nothing but a common flip, free fees.

Everything is everything and everybody knows that is the Truth, it cannot be denied, a priori

Judgement call as presented by a mind trained seals and showdogs eaten treats, a posteriori

Now and then there’s a this or a that which comes out of nowhere seen, Void’s full empty set

Some might find it well before the last gasp of wicked, putrid gas and funky punk blood’s let.

Right before the end of the third act, I left the play without adieu, nobody ever knew my bytes

Disappearance like magic makes the reasons for things themselves, random flyin’ xBox kites

In the explanation of the Essence and Form or shape of Matter, a supernovae singularity hole

Pronouns will have predicated the appearance of an astral vacuum, no justice, I’m in control!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Thursday, 2-20-2020 @ 2:22 PM PST

{ Drafted in the swamp while listenin’ to @MontyPythonCommunistQuizSketch @ https://youtu.be/vZ9myHhpS9s }

* Header’s moi, when I was ‘bout 4 years old, circa 1955 A.D. I was NOT a paid actor! }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?