P H I L O S O P H I A

Tuesday, April 28, 2020

#OneAndDone #SurfsUP #CoronaVirus #Wormhole & @SteelyDan #SurfingSaltWater

CORONA VIRAL #2020 WORMHO *

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, April 28, 2020

** #EyeGotYourCompassion **

Hunger kills the life to transform the darkness into their delightful DNA fantasy, the big hurt

Need it for the blubber of that blather comin’ out of the all too humane punks, weasels today

From brothers and sisters to haters and enemy-mine, there’s a reason for being alive on dirt

Because being the food for the swimming slitherers who are hungry, is Not the narrow way.

My father was there at the conception of what I turned out to be, hand job in a incubator jar

If I’m not stricken dead by the time the imaginary clock strikes 12, any moment is way gone

Set in your ways and you don’t like my personal set of ways, incompatible psyches to duel

Until the final climax which may be a SuperNova or a BlackHole, either way, run outta fuel.

This is no company picnic, there’s no family and there’s no friends, it’s you & #FakeBlues

Really as happy as a human can be living beyond the childhood & ‘bout a million #BirdFlus

Like you never thought that you’d be an orphan, some folks actually were with no li’l mamas

They know who they are, they’ve been taught to read the tea leaves and hearts of the papas.

On it or back stage won’t matter in the front row, the vino-alcohol in my bode bags, so old

Pushed buttons and kept all of the keys to the locks in a safe without a combination, cold!

In a frozen place near the south pole’s tundra, smack on top of a phantom axis’ topped tip

You’d think a UFO flyby in that day or night would disqualify Earth from God’s cosmic flip.

Romance with the rocks that roll down the mountain sides, it’s the duels of distracted gods

Who roam around as if they’ve got more than 1 life to acknowledge their gaze, signify frauds

If and only if you’re lucky ways get you get aged enough to climax in being’s fake embrace

Home sweet home, a memory of One or less comfort, safety and divine protection’s face.

Heretofore, a hashtag of #Blues gets you some with or without the rhythm, it’s the goods

Some people got them goods and others weren’t lucky enough to be fortunate sons & kin

Busy, too busy to strike up a dialogue so there’s a monologue sprouting to be the foods

All three square meals every day, 24/7/365, known for gettin’ it on, I’m like, yo, is It in?

Coming to know what the ultimate reason is for being alive is crucial to your future funk

A mood that will come when you get closer to death, at least if you get old enough, punk

I am not casting aspersions, punk is a student looking for the Ends, the Way of a warrior

Beware of Platonic Truth and realize that you’re alone on It, it end’s by yourself, savior!

r j j stephan, i * I ain’t braggin’ but this sheet’s gittin’ for reals! So, #LetsRoll!

c. Aprile 28th, 2020 Anno Domini @ 11:11 AM PST

{ Drafted while listenin’ to #Countermoon by #DonaldFagen off the #KAMAKIRIAD CD link @ https://youtu.be/k_MDnVO8fcc & #Springtime @ https://youtu.be/mGrdIMa052k }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

Monday, April 27, 2020

#EyesDontGiveAHoot @Blondie #WidowsAreWeeping right here in this #LivingInAGhostTown @TheRollingStones #NoFakeGhosts @BruceSpringsteen @TheRollingStones #PartyOfONE

HOT DIE GHOST TOWN, LAVA ROLL

Richard Joseph Stephan · Monday, April 27, 2020

---- #WidowsAreWeepin' & #CreepsAreCreepin #BeAwareOfNow -----

Party over here at the end of the line, end of the road where all you can do is twist & shout

Well you know, the dirty low down truth about the whole shebang, it’s a wet market of porn

In the depth of your wild mind, there’s no food to eat so there’s nothing to trash a whiteout

Pure puff pieces of the mid-life crisis meaning you didn’t die on a day you & ma were born.

Are we hidden in plain sight of empty Space and Time in eternity, mining for the gold

In a theoretical experiment in the menudo of stew from the ancestral power of the One

I am positing some premises and deducing a logical conclusion, I glean the Truth’s foal

Claiming that both I know nothing for certain and just as certain, I’m alive havin’ fun!

There’s pain and suffering everywhere on this load of star dust, dirt of wasted hors d'oeuvres

Grandmothers allowed this to happen, they had control over #Fake swingers, luscious curves

Most if not all of them dead now, all gone but they’ve left their moron children, the unlearned

Now wisdom within the genome has dissipated into the ether, this wisdom won’t be returned.

You need to leave your mommy & daddy, fly overseas to defend your country? What the hay?

It’s an expanded electrocution of your nervous system’s itch to attempt patricidal matricide!

Ain’t this a peculiar manner of speaking? All of this is peculiar yet a thing itself is too. Seek!

Know who you are or why you’re alive today, on planet Earth’s Supernova extinction? Hide!

Any ghost’s town is where you want to go, nobody there but you, all 208 demonic anklebones

It’s not because you think you’re so pretty or you deserve it, because it’s the way of the rubes

You are not what you’ve accepted as being true about you, dead & gone, under the headstones

Dream trippin’ party, last day of Vegas-Tahoe foreplay, The Meadows’ last roll of dye cubes!

r j j stephan, i

c. Lundi, Aprile 27th, 2020 Anno Domini @ 4:44 AM PST

{ Drafted in a #DripDripDrip of reason ‘round 5:05 AM PST while injected into an infinite loop of The Rolling Stones #GhostLivinInAGhostTown @ https://youtu.be/RdhENdBYqdo }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

Sunday, April 26, 2020

#FakeOldMan #FakeReality @BobDylan #TheRollingStones #WeAllInAGhostTown #AloneTogether @PapaFrancisco #MassForTheMasses #CyberHoliness

MASS OF A FAKE DRAFT-DODGER

by
Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, April 26, 2020
------------ #EnvelopTheEnvelope -------------

I was a teenager in the ‘60’s just waitin’ for my lottery number, got too high to go to War

It’s not my fault that I wasn’t one of the chosen sacrificial lambs to die in a rice patty mud

In my own and my brothers’ blood, we grew the rice that eventually grew into the food do

Where the excreted elements of fire, water and the dirty filth of the planet’s cosmic pooh!

It isn’t the way of the warrior to begin the fight before the first battle, yet here I am, it begins

Way down deep inside of the older men of the American population, those born & raised kin

Of the Howdy Doody and Captain Kangaroo bunch, Rocky and Bullwinkle, it’s chromosomes

You are just the same only different in the DNA replication combination of random genomes.

Playin’ ball on the dead end side streets we lived on from sewer to sewer wasn’t fun enough

We had to fight for basketballs in the alley where our dads put up backboards and rim hoops

Nets of the basket always cut down by local jerkoffs, they’re all dead and gone now, it’s rough

But anyways, I just met her, the one who inspires the inner wealth of nonsense, dum-phuqs!

OK, I need no rent and I don’t need no bag of groceries but I do need to find the lost gizzards

My brothers & sisters from other fathers & illegitimate mothers, sisters of 7 continent beats

Blood freezing in the cold tundra or boiling in the bug infested jungles of the extinct lizards

We ate what we could to keep the grass from growing too high so the cats could sneak #Eats.

Precious ash and filth of the dead star ready to bury me and the history of birth, to be or not

In utero, it’s a 50/50 chance you’ll make it out of the hole alive and then, well you know, hot

Where angels fear to go, near monsters like we the people, ain’t no angels in reality, so now?

Mythological paraphrasing of the recorded notions of the ignorant & wise, same guys’ blow!

In the omega field of the dream, your final 40 winks as a Big Bang rapture ruptures the Ends

May not be today or tomorrow, came up too fast, sudden yet certain, countin’ on holy Bends

Blood snitchin’ the Ends, #StolenValor let me put my chant on yo’’ rats’ lips, “Shoulda went”

“Nothing to fear but Fear itself,” satisfactory Truth, naturally son, you’re a dead hero, #Gent!

Police and military revolutionary puttin’ the hammer down on #ChiCom fake gangster thugs

3rd world country scuz/scum comin’ on a southern caravan up thru Southern American bugs

Stopped cold at the iced shut borders from Baja to New Orleans, even down to a Miami shore

We are the ones they’re coming for, the safe and sound inside of a Trojan Horse’s belly door.

Serving somebody’s what the human genome does, under arrested development, to live & die

That’s all there is between the Big Bang and a total annihilation of Matter’s deep, purple Voids

Other than that, have a great time trying to survive & hunt for food, shelter, mama’s apple pie

Nothing to see here but jokes of caveman writing on rock walls, #FakeNews hoax of androids.

In fear and loathing of the fear itself, One comes out of nowhere and ends Light, we go Dark

Nothing changed since the last time we were there, before the climax of a souped up hot-rod

All of it or none of it will be what it’s always been, a testing ground for accidental #Southpark

A dream within a ship’s dream of cartoons, phqn flock of #WahWahs who lost ‘ways’ of God!