#NobodyGetsOutOfHereAlive #NOBODY ...you neither my sons, my daughters I never had, etc, etc, etc...

NEVER MET A WOMAN, VAMANOS...

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, August 6, 2020

************** #SkipARope **************

On a scale where your mother and father put all hands on deck, tattoo grim young-bloods’ skin

For the sake of the middle class on shaky ground moving underfoot, high immortality’s sin

You have got to be pulling my leg with this blame game of fake responsibility’s fake news

Who you are and who you know is who you blow and who blows you, it’s a tit for tattoos.

Give me liberty or give me death, that has already been arranged against the Will of Man

Will of either the Greek or Roman or presocratic punctures in the argument for a Woman

Only with both the Man and the Woman will the species thrive and survive in a tiny bubble

In order to adapt to the wingless angel flight, the seven continents drying, God’s wobble.

Frequent entry into the outerspace between my ears causes happiness to warm my soul

Drinking a toast to you and me because it’s some kind of wonderful, to be in a Time hole

On a scale where your mother and father put all hands deck, raised the youngbloods up

From the hospital near the ghetto’s neighborhood, some abbreviate that to a trophy cup.

Overall from the first to the final stage, my best will be lucky enough, but why, holy moral sin

Hit the flag on the last bounce of sacred bluegrass green, lights are always on my eyes to bet

Balls to hit and to roll, to catch and throw in a hole, over a goal’s post or in a goalie’s webnet

You’ll tread the identical path on the way to your majestic finale, lips agape, eyes wide open.

All hands on deck for all but the CO, she’s already there waiting, don’t pass go or collect $200

You’re going to jail sooner or later, even though I think that wouldn’t be cool, with or without

All free will, your free soul, moves to hide temporarily or permanently, a conscious awareness

It peeks through stone & iron curtains, slit Mona Lisa’s neck with my sword for Roman Nazis.

Words move quickly between the mind and the understanding of the rational thinker, the Id

Not the super Ego or the Ego since they are both immersed and invested in the life of the kid

Little boys and girls grow, learn to comprehend the nature of Truth and Lies, trumping aces

Straight and narrow road, once momentum kicks in is an easy Way to Live in faces of races.

Burn words, burn bones, flash flood or freeze the entire planet’s content, it’s above and below

My spell’s one of the sixteen sung about in the song about a chuck wagon rollin’ down a road

Fifteen attempts to flesh out the bubble and each time almost there, tripped and fell too low

So far below that there is nothing above nor below The Void, pray to God I’m no secret code.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Jeudi, August 6th, 2020 Anno Domini @ 3:11 PM PST

{ Created in a minute while listenin’ to #ONDA & hits by Los Lonely Boys ad infinitum on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/iHwu9g3Um5Y }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#ClosetGate #Southpark #IAmGuffawing #BlackHolesCauseWhiteDwarfs #TheDevilIsDOPE

 $$$$$$$

ROLLIN’ DIE IN A BLACK HOLE’S ID

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, August 5, 2020

------- #ThatsTricky -------

Thought a lot about It, gone fishin’ for a figure of speech, calculus of a mob’s war boondoggle

Love and the loss of it once found, is all there is that’s worth a hoot, the End of no Mean bull

Cows just stand up and wait for a final judgement, be eaten or chased for stuffed trophy play

It is indeed, all there is, spaceships or not, the caves were the safe place from the beasts’ prey.

Rollin’ sevens and elevens all night long in the casino, the den of my investment’s mad hatter

Workin’ at the improbable and expecting this impossible dream, a blue diamond and a worm

On a digital screen, personal wealth over six zeroes hides nothing about life’s eclectic Matter

Performed to obfuscate reality and not allow the Truth to be told or even seen in occult Form.

Innocence at the beginning of the play, total ignorance of the nature of Big Bang’s evolution

Of men and mice and their genetic codes of DNA which survive holocausts and trepidation

In and out of the joints that kill cattle, potatoes and tree paper to cover up their emasculation

What you don’t know WILL hurt you too, knowledge’s power is sacrosanct and Original Sin.

Worship of the Unknown, Occult or Steel-headed Fathers, Sons & Holy Ghosts, is forbidden

The die has been cast into the iron pot that cannot melt in rock lava, rollin’ blue diamond’s in

Sounds cannot be heard without the ears to hear the beast’s beats but vibrations feel the Way

Narrow and without distance or a map, the infinite is unreachable by any atom, night or day.

Here and now before the Last Rights you either get or forget about their Lost Words to Bless

Poor humanity full of fear of Nothing but the Space of the Unknown, astronauts found Bliss

Where nothing was everywhere and nothing on Earth mattered one bit, not even a smidgen

Because This is It, This is All there Is, you, me, the living dead, the cosmic porridge we’re in.

Rolled the dice and played my cards to win every time, never, ever played to lose to the brave

Rules were given, followed or broken and the chips fell where they were directed by the grave

Once upon any Time can be no more, it’s a matter of spinnin’ and wobblin’ in Space, in a Void

Form’s appearance of Matter to the sensation of Mankind, the incarnate way, we are #Droid.

Appreciate the air I breathe, it never belonged to me in the first or second place, gifted revival

From the unknown vestibule where our mother’s womb and father’s tomb kept track of Time

History recollected to remember the heroic gestures of the mighty mortals who failed survival

Certain death and becoming, buried or crushed, eaten bones, shat on grass, a drop on a dime.

Mouth & eyes agape, buried, covered up to attempt a coup d'é·tat of Anglo-Saxon melodrama

An origin of the finale of the ignorant, future shock left to us by our mighty, dead god-mama

Earth, the dirt cinders of the thing itself, the unmoved mover in the flesh, Thor with thunder

Enlightens the disgusting dregs of society, aftereffect of Full Power unleashed, It Is All Over!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Wednesday, August 5th, 2020 A.D. @ 7:11 AM PST

{ Drafted as I lay dying, listening to the #Dramatics #TheDevilIsDope & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/8-oHwBkZAvs}

 FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#WhatDoYouThinkBoutThat? #PowerShifts

SIX FEET FROM MOTHER’S BLOW

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, August 4, 2020

--------- #GoodTimes #BadTimes ---------

I kiss my mom these days by blowing her a windless kiss from six feet away, dying viral fools

We never see one another’s face any more, we’ve got iPhone photos and celluloid Kodak flicks

Everything in due time, everything is everything and nothing is nothing, the Dalai Lama rules

Bringing it all to the table with the cartoons I love to watch, 24/7 the The Simpsons’ shticks.

An Event Horizon from out of nowhere and without any warning from the AM radio like glue

Stuck on me as I was gettin’ down on a beautiful day, out by the swimming pool of clear blue

Nothing there to bother us except bad guys who followed my daughter home, bad guy’s ways

I had to go from peace to war in a moment without a thought, warrior mode on purple haze.

I don’t fight, I deny the outcome has anything to do with any of my actions, yes they’re dead

But there was something wrong with their minds, they wanted to kill me, my fearless dread

Philosophy of waiting for the moves and responding in effect with the check mate in nines

Finished before the opponent recovers from the descent into the abyss, angels’ stop signs.

In no hurry to stroke the accelerator because at that point, there’s no more fair competition

It makes me feel such sympathy for the relentless loser who couldn’t believe it would happen

I see what you see but you say you don’t see it, I don’t care though, I know you are a genius

Top of your education’s class of superior students, who studied to excel, to be superior dust.

Which in the end is still all you and I are, regardless of the function of the PhD or HS diploma

In the wind, at the end, all alone, no wife, husband, no kin at at all, One, in a morbid pleroma

Think about the living stars, the dead stars, the unborn stars, then think that you exist here

In the middle of nowhere, outside of 93 million miles to the nearest origin, a climax, a beer.

Nothing to get all riled up about until it’s time to use your skills of self defense from the mob

When they come out of nowhere from the dregs of somebody’s society, can’[t get a living job

They come in busloads dressed with their baby grouchy-Marxist garb, ready for a stone age

Rock music and the classical Jazz, Country and Soul pieces of Culture, Americana in deluge.

Stay with me one more moment, descend into the ascending vortex, into the holy, full of zeal

Coming up or down, just because there’s no other way to go, gravitational collapse of the field

Interrupting the coitus long enough to cause the species to go extinct by a devilish good deed

In error, Truth became the Lie and that was the Key to the End, the Finale, it was a bad seed!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Lundi, August 3rd, 2020 A.D. @ 1:11 PM PST

{ #GodInHeaven ? Ripped this from my leased gullet while listenin’ to the mighty Carlos Santana #LIVEconcert on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/Afaf6YWWqD4 }

 

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?