P H I L O S O P H I A

Monday, May 11, 2020

#Chicago #TODAY #TOMORROW #YESTERDAY #EVERYDAY

CV + RS, HOLY CARVED REDWOOD*

Richard Joseph Stephan · Monday, May 11, 2020

---------------------- #CHICAGO -----------------------

At the beginning of my recollection that I am alive and I exist on planet Earth, I saw a light

Outside of my mother’s womb after I’d traveled by taxicab & sedan for 270 days in ego flight

Sudden impact of being handed the keys to a terrestrial twilight zone with our cool daughter

In both hands, you’re broke and you don’t have a job, you have no food, you have hose water.

On Broadway or Main Street, either way they lead out of the town your egg was hatched to go

Parents & relatives would follow if you showed them & the world as we know it, Truth to you

If you believe you were anything other than an egg and a sperm, I apologize to your super ego

I will defy you and your ilk if you believe that I elected you when I did not, A Hitler did it too!

Now then the edible animals we’ve determined are good to eat, our moms & pops ate ‘em too

Pigs, cows, elk, deer, lambs for the cultural misanthrope, beheaded & sliced, a campfire fool

If the number nine was actually in reality, number 1 & number 2 and that, liquid & solid fuel

It runs downhill with momentum of a sewer flow to the sewage hole for waste disintegration.

Virus and bacteria travel on water vapor, they’re in the clouds, the rain and the deep blue sea

Mystery no more once the last draw of three cards is dealt, I bet a hundred, you called, I won

It happens once in a while but not so often that I make any living bluffing about a dead man

Life here and now, gone tomorrow, lucky to be alive and healthy, breathing freedom, happy.

We’ve all got what the ‘have-nots’ want and that’s a problem, we won’t give our cache to bums

Why should I? Because they said I better or else I’d “get it,’ whatever that means, aw, bring it

Inside of the mind of men from every culture who speak every language, one or the other one

There’s a gap, a hole of infinite proportions that no human can bridge without winged flight.

No quid pro quo for you this year or next in fact, the factoid is actually #FakeNews to retweet

Readers of words don’t know whether they is true or false, nothing’s justified by my little feet

Completed arguments day and night, keepin’ it all on the up & up, all even steven, so to speak

Fortune to pitch a perfect game or hit a hole in one, I got 69 sins, that’s all folks, what a freak!

r j j stephan, i * Header’s my 1984 carving on a redwood ramp, on a cliff over the Pacific!

c. Lundi, May 11th, 2020 Anno Domini @ 10:10 AM PST

{ #Got looping @ChicagoTheBand #HITS Tube link @ https://youtu.be/QECAViP4U1Y }

FINISW.W.A.R.D.?

#StickIt #ItsStuck #TheRollingStonesMoss

DISCLOSE NOTHING, NO FEAR YET

Richard Joseph Stephan · Monday, May 11, 2020

----------- #COV19 #StopNow ------------

Searched everywhere to hide behind the dots in Space that leave us alone in the wet dreams

A piece of work left over from a Big Bang of the universal birth, pressure blown at the seams

Conceived and annihilated in the social distance of an astronomical unit or two, One is done

Something is amiss in the abyss and nobody alive has a clue about where the Truth lies down.

Punks and defunct ministers in charge of breastfed babies, I, who sucked glass of the bards

Full of vitamins and minerals that your mama could not secrete from her glands, dad’s nards

So it went from the dawn until the blazing light of the 12 hour day, final day of conscious fuzz

Memory of the historical record, infancy, childhood, adolescence, adulthood and soulful jazz.

Victims and the food I ate were all one and the same, isolation of the Blue Books in the dark

Do not ask questions if you don’t want the answers, you know that I’m talkin’ teeth of a shark

Truth is deadly, incredible Truth is still the One and Only answer, reason we’re alive my son

It’s a divine accident in the middle of nowhere, a collision and super nova, a chain’s reaction.

Second hand F-4’s in flight over the seven continents and seven seas, close encounter to God

Whatever’s not created on this dirty rock’s not from this dirty rock, simple mathematical sod

Alien beings from Time and Space are all around us, everywhere between you and I and them

Everywhere you look and sniff & feel inside & outside, you find nothing but mystery phlegm.

Meat is the DNA in infinite reproduction on a finite ground of being, peeps are the dumpster

Ammonia SMELL, you can’t imagine the putrid aroma, it’s like wet baby diapers in a hamper

Performing maneuvers in the sky all around this planet, 360 degrees around the sphere, SAM

Utter desolation inside of the head with a secret that cannot be told, what I am is, what I am!

Disaster after you’re dead is unlikely since nothing exists after death, neither a cry or a song

Outside of the rocks and dirt, there’s nothing at all but empty Space between the dust n’ shyt

Glimmering of a vacant hope and dreamless sleep, afterlife is all it’s cracked up to be, fear it

What is the empty container of everything other than you, you’re my target, gods ain’t wrong!

r j j stephan, i

c. May 11th, 2020 A.D. @ 4:44 AM PST

{ Drafted while listenin’ to The Rolling Stones #SaintOfMe & #DoomAndGloom on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/xcMQWfMTfJ8 }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

Sunday, May 10, 2020

#EveryoneHere #NotYetWaitAMinute

PARADES FOR MY DAUGHTER, SON

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, May 10, 2020

-------------------- #OnTheHunt --------------------

Everything is in line for Mighty Moe and Cinderella, animated bag of holy bones, apesextinct

Just because that’s the way I want it to be, it’s the rules of my winding road, naked ape stank

Follower of leaders’ misleads, preferably One, with a sharp evolution curve, up-synchronized

Highly improbable though it may be, it’s a wish albeit a wild and unlikely one to materialized.

Predators merely the modus operandi of eating oneself from the inside out, theory of it All

Computers and our ten fingers are all that was required for us all to arrive here on a dirt ball

For no reason even if you can rhyme the end of the line and justify the ends by askew means

Motors and engines only assist the disintegration of the core network of the things of beans.

After the teenagers move on and see nothing ahead and nothing behind them, they volunteer

For the Army, Marines, Navy, Coast Guard & Air Force, need the tanks and missiles for fear

They work but only for detente to stop the other for fear of annihilation, smashing the Earth

Into smithereens with a Neutrino Bomb, from a tiny reaction unto the doomed, bloody heart.

He and she dwelt among us for a moment when we weren’t watching for it, it has come hither

Between rocks and a hard stones wall that only moves for mass annihilation of atomic parity

Fathers of children can help as much as the dead and long gone mothers, the beasts’ thither

Toll to roll down the tristate and turnpike, expressway and freeway is more than your means.

The price must be paid for this journey, to begin and to end this somnambolistic, fake foam

At the center of the conflagration, there’s a song playin’ in Hollywood and in Kiev, freedom

By jimi hendrix and the experience, it was what it was and the Man did not disappoint, boom

Out of dead and gone in a dream with balls to the wall, bones’ dust swept strawman broom.

Features of sensory perception memorized for future retrieval if required for efficient dorks

The alternative is to be either the food of animals, insects or microbes of subatomic quarks

From a single cell to an infinite value of cells in a form, a shape without a mother’s sucker

So father and mother downloaded data into the progeny and extinction will allow no succor.

Father of mine, listen to me, where did you go when you said you didn’t know, was it me cuz?

Did I scare you away with my wanting to be around you all the time, my idol, you gave Word

That last name so I didn’t have to be a little bastard until I got a lot older, It turned out I was

A little Re-Tard that is, the name you called me the day you walked away, you old bass-turd!

Griping from your easy swingin’ hammock between the weeping willow trees, I can’t hear you

Preaching to the wind and it’s blowin’ right past my brain, my mind’s eye insight in 52 weeks

Periodic tables clearing the air and breakin’ toe bones for torture to get the Truth, to never be

Saying it out loud, making the sounds of the random mouth conflagrations, tongue in cheeks.

Overnight it stayed dark until a moment before the dawn, it all became clear, it’s lucky draws

From a blind deck of 48 or 52, pinochle or poker with or without trump or wild card flaws

Game on and game over in a New York Minute, even if you don’t like it, the way it’s gotta be

Didn’t know we were the only ones who weren’t born in the Twilight Zone, US, you and me!