"#EyesAreBlind & #ICannotSee #RightOnForTheDarkness" -- @CurtisMayfield

BACK TO THE WORLD BOY, YO MA!

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Tuesday, June 30, 2020

-----------------  #GivinYouABreak ---------------

One chain don’t make no prison mama, you know that you taught me to be so GD fool cool

Nothing gets under my skin without me knowing about it, I overreacted to Catholic school

Production of the fame and fortune is still in the mix of super hero, bein’ ghetto-bum lucky

If you don’t know what I’m talkin’ about, just forget about it, pretend I didn’t have the key.

To the beings alive on the plains and prairies to the coastal and inner cities of the 7 ‘bumps’

Where your babies and parents were born and raised to see your face on #FakeNews frauds

Letting the strangers who’ll never actually see or know you or I, who we are, y’all are chumps

Never-land in the palm of the pope’s and oligarchy tripe, stealing your freedom for the gods.

Alrighty then, too much is too much, like my mama used to say, yes and I say daddy too, yo!

But if and only if I can irritate the powers that be who regard blind faith as the gospel truth

Not I said the blind man to his deaf brother on his cellphone, he could read the text forsooth

Out of nowhere the End comes shootin’ right past your face, you can hear the swoosh go-go!

On the other side, there’s no other side by the way yet, let’s entertain peculiar notions of folks

Until there is no other choice than to conclude that this is it, we’re alone, it’s what she upshot

This is all of the nature of being and nothingness, existence and super-mankind, a god jokes

Telling the punch line after the final gasp of thin air, survival of the fit and even then, caput!

From the avenue in Chicago from the lake to Oak Park, I ran the C.T.A. 12 cents up & 12 back

To and from the squeeze-box lessons my daddy and mama squeezed out of their teeny stack

Greenbacks came from working, as much as possible for the minimum wage, below above it

Making the democrat machine the button pins by the thousands, for mama’s & pop’s skillet.

Happy is a word but the feeling of happiness is much more, that one you get with my rejects

Out of the darkness for nine months and into the light for the unexpected causes and effects

Luck of the draw, your spirit picks the lump of 208 bones to be, as long as it’s a possibility

Random causes and effects in the future have already become the past, Presence is the key.

Treason is the reason for all of the stars and stripes, rebellion against a crown of hacked gold

Fifty stars, thirteen stripes for the patriots who know, who recollect the sacrifice of the bold

Monkeys saw this liberty being done and they wanted some too but didn’t know what to do

So, an King and Queen and I turned the spigot OFF, not a trickle or a drip from the big Ho.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Mardi, June 30th, 2020 Anno Domini @ 4:44:44 PM PST

{ Drafted while jammin’ on Curtis Mayfield Music #BackToTheWorld on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/g2udbdAmdkc }

 

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#ShipAhoy #BringYourMamaAndSisters #AintThatAmerica @JimmyBuffett @JohnCougar

UNPOPULAR HAPPINESS, GIN-RUM

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Monday, June 29, 2020

----  #YoungManInaTShirt #GreasyHair ----

In a manner of speaking, I’ve already found what I’d lost being born into a new faux family

Of men, of mice and the virus to the bacteria to the forms from silkworm to angry bee hive

Blood & bones created by the gravitational collapse of my atomic matter, It Is All I ever see

There is no other rational explanation for the existence of bloody gods struggling to survive.

Paranoid leaders moving to where they get advised to go by #BigBucks, ain’t no mercy boost

To the foothills where the roads are closed to the drifters and harvesters of my Acapulco gold

More of the Many than the Few are allowing the unelected and elected to rule a shoddy roost

Thinking ahead of the bus stop in the middle of the riot, the ghetto now, All broken I am told.

Where’s the tonic for the gin, that’s what I’m wondering and why not? You have a better gin?

I have the #TopShelf and you have the bottom’s up swill so that’s the end of the story, I win

Completely in the hands of the unknown and somehow more adept than I, supreme will of Id

Part of the Ego that I am, I allow this to be, with or without me in tow, I know, it’ll the CoVid.

If and when it occurs that the entire realm of existence is dependent on viral pandemics, Die!

It’s all over, historically, the grand illusion of the living left alone by the dead’s pie in the sky

Ouzo is what we can squeeze out of a crystal bottle’s neck, a tyro, a rookie, punk of a gangway

Head punk. new punk, all gonna go to the same place, to the fire or the dirt, my daddy’d say.

Full on foolproof method of freezing the hot matters into dry ice, where angels fear to go too

Because the burn is instant, chromosomes be damned, nature cares nothing about pedigree

You & everyone else will lie down, as y’all lay dying you’ll think of the errors of being human

Raw or cooked, the skin and bones remain the same, like the song, a rhythm in the key of C.

Now and then, from the hollar I hear the call to return for the things I forgot to bring it along

Knowing nothing special about anything in particular and just a casual observer of all that is

I have less of an ego and id than I used to when I was just a kid, wet behind the ears & wrong

Skip the olive, dry or wet, I’ll down either or both with or without you, just pour a 151-gin fizz.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Lundi, June 29th, 2020 Anno Domini @ 2:22 Post Meridiem Pacific Standard Time

{ Drafted while listenin’ to Looneytunes Adventure on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/j8hsq-mKLzg }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#IDontDrink #AlwaysDrunkOnSunlight @JohnPrine

G-FORCE IN REVERSE, CHAMPS *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, June 28, 2020

 ****  MinimumSecurity ****

From the grandpa to the papa to the son, it happens that it all rolls down the Sierra foothills

From Wisconsin to Chicago to Washington & on to the end of Earth, California kills fagots

In the gas chambers, in the electric chairs, on the hanging platforms, flies in the sky kitchen

But I got a swatter to scoot them out the screen or snuff out their short life from a maggot.

Spinning around for no other reason than there is nothing else that can be done, I’m thinkin’

Yet, it’s impossible to come to a definitive conclusion before the bitter end of life stinkin’

In a cadaver, a corpse or a sliced thinly piece of protein for the cannibals to consume raw

For the sake of the mighty and the weak, the Void, the Matrix, the World is in your hands!

It’s your mother’s or your father’s or sister’s, brother’s, aunt’s, uncle’s or cousins’ meat raw

Imagine all of the lonely DNA which has no sun to shine on their balls of solar suns-in-law

You, me and the rest of the genome partake of the only thing keeping us alive, fish alewives

Immaculate conceptions and Assumptions into the Ether, getting killed, come back jives!

Behind the dirt plows and snow plows I come from the 208 bones of each operator of a crane

Living to die and dying to live is the only way the Winters knew, it happens ad infinitum slim

All of the gigs made up out of thin air, right out of the caves, with the bass and the sax, insane

Fission of my atoms, fusion of our molecular structure into the icy H2O Mars to the Ukraine.

What never matters is what doesn’t breathe in gas and metabolize the mischief that ensues

Nothing in the seams or the creases between the sheets because it’s all caput, cook #ActBlue

Cash in a #ThousandCurrents from Hollywood shocks and awes of babies in Hades’ #Tides

Director of financing the money laundering through the Matrix, is God’s son, #SlowRides!

Piercing the skin there is nothing but blood and bones, ready to go where you were before

Give me millions of your pounds of gold and silver, I don’t want your greenback-digit store

Who has the billions of value that will give the mortals’ immortality they can never procure

So, out of the oven and into the all-too-human mouths, coco chips in cookies, on a skewer.

by

r j j stephan, i *header is my kin, Grandpa Al, pops Stevie & 2 sonny boys, #Ich & #Jamz

c. Dimanche, June 28th, 2020 A.D. @ 9:11 AM PST

{ Drafted listenin’ to John Prine #HouseOfStrombo https://youtu.be/w5Rkm_dqm7A }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?