#PostMortem #PreNatal @GratefulDead concert @WrigleyField @Chicago @Batman & @TheGoldenDawn

au GOLDEN DAWN BOBBYPINS #79*

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, March 10, 2020

----------- #GoldenRatio ------------

In the psyche within the mind of species specific board games, I’m the monkey, apeman lover

I mean get off of it and stay off of it, mount my back at your own free choice of instant karma

There would be no waiting in line to see what happens in a minute, I was so busy getting over

Getting acid kinks out of the genome in between a Big Bang and a Super Nova, fake dharma.

It’s a miracle that the metal was buried in the ground but Earth is a Dead Star don’t sweat it

What the ancestors pretended to know and taught their kin was in fact, just a bunch of chit

It really doesn’t matter to the ancestors who have passed into the ash and dust or DJ’s locker

Organized crime against the birds of prey and all the mothers that crawl, fly, run or slither.

If and only if your fortune keeps you safe from predators and accidental low speed air crashes

Then you may open your conscious awareness to the body and blood of reincarnated gashes

Coming to be from a defiance of nature, a spirit infused egg without a father, without a man

If you’ve got something to say, say it now, if not, hold your peace until the bitter end, hot fan.

Bobby pins you saved for 2000 years since the beginning of a millennium which has no witness

Now worth millions and donated to the Smithsonian to keep for the sake of Man, I confess

Every day to the ball of confusion in my ball park, on my court, a field of dreams’ day-mare

No music or sound other than Corona gold bobby pins scratchin’ skull, high gold in my hair.

If we can no longer breathe in and out in a rhythm to die for, then a synchronized ego alters

What masks you had before that moment, before the moment your mouth slacked, all agape

Out of the air you’ve breathed since the slap on the arse in the hospital called, St. Anne Cape

Corpus dillecti is immanent if the stiff isn’t found poste haste, so it’s all hammer down hers.

A Goldsmith or an adept at being an enlightened son of the immortal divinity, God or ol’ Zeus

Named by unknown “experts” during their Time on Terra Ferma, spin and wobble in blues

Unknown ‘x’ factor with a ‘y’ and ‘z’ too close for comfort, also without being ol’ Mary Poppins

Who needs you weasel? Immersion in solar fuel, a special and general relativity’s bobby pins.

by

r j j stephan, i *Gold Bobby Pins for all!

Mardi 10 mars 2020 Anno Domini @ 5:55 Post Meridian, Pacifica Standard Time {PST}

{ Drafted after watchin’ @TheDarkKnight #BankHeist on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/vetKTtM7YyU & jammin’ to my radio station #RicoRockHardFavRadio link @ https://www.iheart.com/favorites/ricorockhard-favorites-radio-724148/ }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#AFifthOnTheTenth FOR ALL OF THE #RubberbandMen

OMEGA FREEBIRD’S 10 HERTZ, SON

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, March 10, 2020

----- S.O.S. -----

Marking right there in front of your eyes where ‘X’ marks the spot, where you’re here, present

In the spin of the doctors and nurses early in the AM, woke up my pops, daddio drivin’ blind

Still high on the Jack D, son of the black label, got to the emergency room, mama on a gurney

You may not recollect the first day you saw the light but I do, embedded it in my mind to find.

Last year you weren’t here, then you appeared from two cells merged into a zygotish globule

In a nutshell, from nothing but a move of friction on skin and nerves, we’ve come from a void

A mere, invisible piece of atomic, nuclear matter, fissioned & fusioned Space, above & below

What supernova imagined you’d be writing Words, reading Thoughts, of me, a motley fool.

Self deprecation and some legal street drugs should get you a tent underneath the freeway

Many down and out men and women will take everything you got by labor or sin’s larceny

Once you’re naked and shakin’ naked in the freezin’ frost of a funky-aze, morning darkness

With an overdose of the Earth’s plants ground into powder, melted into a comatose mess.

Cecor’ll cover your gammoglobulin with shock troops, a kick-az of struggle and Hades’ strife

Drugs on acid, natural high of mitochondria believing they have a viral will of Jack’s & a bawl

What it is in this world that forces us all to struggle for survival and fear the death of fake life

A shiver is what you get with the realization that you’re now enlightened, death will kill y’all!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Mardi 10 mars 2020 Anno Domini à 3 h 33, heure normale du Pacifique

{ Earthquake last night around 8:00 PM PST here in Northern California... & drafted this masterpiece while listenin’ to Creed #WithArmsWideOpen & chit on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/xkRtnqNtwUw }

@SalvidorDali

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#EverybodyIsEverybody @WARTheBand @ThePointerSisters @DonnyHathaway #TheDramatics #G

YOU WENT TOO FAR, KEEP GOIN’

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Monday, March 9, 2020

Happiness is me and my wife takin’ a selfie on my mother’s and father’s porch in early prefall

A place where I used to ride my bicycle up and down the blacktop one-ways of streets’ lights

On the boulevard or the avenue, sometimes a street or a road or a lane, I lived on them y’all

Deep on the northside of the city of bad smells, tar, bricks and woodwork, home of my fights.

It was always just as peculiar with a Chicago girl, that Jersey girl was the rose among tulips

We danced every day and every night because we were burstin’ with the energy of love lips

Peculiar to say the least and a godsend for the hungry and thirsty for the pills of my prose

Ground beef and pork just like the cannibals that eat their own, four legs OK, never 10 toes.

Punk rocks and rolled up stones putting on the Ritz for the righteous and the undeserving

Everybody is everybody and the lost have been found in the muck and mire of the gold ring

Married to the Singularity and to the mob of cellular differentiation, Cause of all effectiveness

Of course, it’s in the tea leaves and in the stars, below and above all that we know is and was.

Depending on the linguistic tricks of laying down the tricks of the trade, the whole Truth’s Id

Never, ever going to be happiness without sadness while you breathe this O2, H1 and a Force

Hydrogen, gas of the bloody azses left over from the Big Bang of Stuff, gas, liquid and corpse

Nowhere else we’ll ever be able to go other than right here and now, future shock, This is It!

Party would be on the patio where the barbecue caught on fire, Hibachi flames to the gods

Burned chops and wings for the family starving for the spoils of the welfare lines of hot rods

Uneducated and ignorant singers of the American dream, freedom ain’t free to the old lovers

Oh #ChiTown gods, rich spunk-suckin’ girls with no daddy, rubberbands flippin’ the cursors.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Sunday, March 9th, 2020 A.D. @ 12:00 midnight

{ The headers is me & my better 1/2, Carol Ann, I drafted this MP while listenin’ to WAR THE BAND #DontLetNooneGetYouDown from the #WhyCantWeBeFriends cd on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/kwbqU3vWWec }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?