#WTF Time is it? #FourThirty? again? it's early!

SUCCUMBING TO THE SUCCUBUS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, July 16, 2020

------   #WTF is your point?  None.  ------

I have absolutely no choice, this is my responsibility and my obligation, all mine, my soul

What you and I see and hear, taste, smell, touch and in general malaise, #Feel is the role

We get as the humanity of the civilized Earth planet of this Black Star above, don’t be a rat

It will blind you and burn your retina and cornea, even might strike you as blind as a bat.

You are indeed what you eat and what you dream between conception, holy self-extinction

Wear a mask or not, you will die in the end either in your sleep, accident of circumstance, son

All of the money men can muster, gold or paper or dot matrix will not buy immortality pies

There is only One piece, at peace and never divided into any manifestation of imperfect lies.

When Mona Lisa shows her face, my world stops moving, cause to effect, stuck in quicksand

In Paris or Sacramento, Milan or Tokyo, songs remains the same, out of time’s synchronicity

Simple to put the complex into perspective with a snort of Elmer’s glue, stopping my godsend

Amazing you with the dazzle of diffused ultraviolet or infrared wavelengths of finite self pity.

Come along with the useless expansion of the dot matrix, a point on a Void, smile widely now

Fine line crossed between happiness and hopelessness, lovin’ the mind drinkin’ in Earth pain

In forms of ground powder swallowed in libations, magic smoking flowers of Miss Mary Jane

Playin’ in sand boxes and then in bands until the final act of the play, we’ll all say, “And how!”

Separation from the Earth Mama, wife of your daddy, abandoned by a heavenly Father too

Oh mama mia, it’s all prima vera from here in this space, right now in this time ending blue

I am not the first and I won’t be the last to have eyes wide shut, not able to observe the Truth

Lies are what I swallowed, from Origins of Mankind to the Fate of the dead heads, forsooth.

Hot air bags full of anything like atoms of star gas enveloped, rubber containers of dinobone

Extinction of species in this world occurs ad infinitum until the White Dwarf collapses home

Back into it’s original Singularity where Nothing’s seen or heard from ever again, nevermore

Plan to make you blue is set, by surprise is the only way to find out, opened a grapevine door.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Thursday, July 16th, 2020 A.D. @ 11:11 AM PST

{ Persuaded the muse to let me translate this gibberish into golden honey drips while listenin’ to Creedence Clearwater Revival on youTube #HeardItThroughTheGrapvine on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/jCfUxn2VMT8 }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#LetsSeeHowFarWeGo #Oversimplification @Santana @Matchbox20

QUE SERA, QUARK QUANTUM, EH?

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, July 15, 2020

-------- #PutItRightInThere --------

I like your pants around your talons darlin’ and you know, it ain’t that hard to figure you out

It’s all a matter of reading the tea leaves and consulting the Ouija board’s spirit of mild doubt

Monuments built and then knocked down into the dust, to forget about the past, repeat it kid

Just like you cannot learn, you cannot teach, you are a useless piece of DNA on the path to Id.

Just trying to procreate the species not trying to be clipped winged bird heads, like yourself

No more eagle flights in the dodo bird avian race and there’s nothing you can do about it all

Just sit back and watch as the dominoes knock down the front to the back and of a li’l rascal

Swearing to the highest power that exists in the cosmos, neither someone nor Nothing itself.

I’ve hunted for a bird, a chick since I fell out the nest, mother didn’t come get me, need a bird

Immaculate conception or victim of love matters not one bit, just to touch it once, say a word

A prayer or recitation of a speech or just lyrics to a song read aloud in a poetry slam, either or

Coming to an exit at the entrance of the form’s shaped matter, a century leaves dust and dirt.

Now, about the molecular structure of the mind, the personality, the spirit, a soul to run fast

Mighty mice fly and put tom cats and bull dogs in the barn with the horses’ assed backwards

Walking through you got the impression that horses gave you their only sign of derision, #ass

Fear and courage merged in the twilight zone, above that place in space where Singularity is.

A guiding light away from the heebie jeebies moves your holy spirit closer to the Final End

Place that’s reserved for the creme del la creme and the elite mega-billionaire's colored skin

Here’s who loves ya baby, you know where I live so come on over for dinner and a B-movie

All you see is all you get for now and until QUARK quantum manifests, I will be or I will be.

Nobody can see it where it hypothetically could have been if it would have been, in the pocket

Reason and logic dictate the hypothetical and deduce the conclusion most logical to ebb flow

From bunk beds of barracks in basic training, Lackland 1971 San Antonio to 2020 Nantucket

In the circus or on the stage, it’s life’s essence of existence, philosophical morons often blow.

Sometimes they don’t blow, they just suck frequently enough to get wrinkles in their cheeks

It’s work to keep the skin soft and wrinkle free, magic potions required, also need a trip/fall

Mona Lisa moved millions from seeing nothing and then her flat face in a book or on a wall

Punks with or without me become whomever they’ll be, today and tomorrow just like freaks.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Wednesday, July 15th, 2020 A.D. @ 10:10 PM PST

{ Drafted while jammin’ to Carlos Santana #LoversFromAnotherTime on YouTube link @ https://youtu.be/FkE2TJ6pgoE }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#NobodySpecial #BeingStupidLikeAJungle

I MOVE, CASH & KISSES FOR GUNS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, July 14, 2020

-------- 1forTheMoney 2forTheShow --------

Fun to roll up and down the boulevard with or without you, it really doesn’t matter at all

The gist of it is that a bullet comes fired out of nowhere and ends the perfection on a ball

Mobs of mobsters moving sub-machine guns up and down the Mississippi for the ol’ Fed

A need for protection from the Man of this or another country, they want to kill y’all dead.

Taxes and income traded for blood, sweat and tear droppin’ put it all in the bank, saved $$

A hundred thousand dollars I saved in ten years, it’s now worth 30% less than it used to be

There’s a boom coming up country for the men and women who pay attention to the hot air

Blown around by good guys and the sheriff’s deputy canines, smelled like a girl’s perty hair.

Complete equations without variables or constants, devoid of value and quality, empty set

Nothing inside and everything else is outside of it, order and mayhem move the unmoved

Nobody to be moved, it’s the spirit everywhere within a triad of duplicity, uno, dos & tres

Essential essence of the hubris is substance in retrograde, going two ways at one time too.

Mirrors reflecting reflections of diamonds and rusty nails from the recycled coffin silk

Softer than it used to be as soft as it was, now it’s as smooth as a newborn baby wraith

Hard times and hard lives make for the saga of this civilization and then it ends quickly

Dreaming of the Ends of the forces that annihilate the foolish creeds and a blind faith.

It can be a whatchamacallit or a pathological prematurity, a gift of the gods in NY Harlem

Dead or alive, the boys and girls grow and get lucky or not, some go to paradise of the grim

Scared and out of the ordinary panacea for peace and quiet, an ended journey at life origins

Fly, run, walk or crawl, I will get to the Ends eventually, Rolls Royce or not, gotta keep rollin’.

Margie or Bettye came and went like the North wind, blowin’ right through to my rubber soul

It’s sufficient to stay alive to eat and defecate ad infinitum, but why? Just because my pretty!

Golam would scare the bejeezus out of you and me, shatter our plastic mirrors, I’m on a roll

Like dice, I come up craps, I lose it all but the Rolls wasn’t mine to begin with, awoke already.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. July 14th, 2020 A.D @ 6:16 PM PST

{ Drafted while listenin’ to #Blitz with Nick Cage link @ https://youtu.be/EMvIgNcej-w }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?