#CrayCray #OnIt #GalacticGuardians

SWEET LORD, #CHITOWN HOOKS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Saturday, August 8, 2020

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Women and men shading their nekid kid and give their best shot to fool the inner 6th sense

That all of these mothers and fathers know how to tell their kids that they will eat ignorance

Told not to worry and everything will turn out fine if you keep on crankin’ out the miraculous

Fine in the end and so fine appearing in the form of beauty, natural with or without all of us.

Now, later I’ll tell you what happened before you were conceived as a kid on the block, Thing

Nothing more nor less than you’ve been taught by the family you trust. all boxing’ in the ring

Formula One or Forty Nine matters not even a twit, it’s all sayin’ nothin’ while makin’ noises

In a formula with no recipe written down with directions to create, two wrongs make it right.

Squirts of the Truth squeezed out the turnip greens of farmland dirt, crust of Earth’s butter

Naughty yet natural in the mind of the beholder, speaking from experience I’m not bashful

Needing and wanting inside of the 208 bones and miraculous experience of pains to suffer

Working for the score to become even-Steven, as if it ever was in the first place, be merciful.

Cause of all these effects from Earth’s core to outer Space is an Unknown, almighty specter

Supreme Being, First Mover of Everything in the Cosmos, in every atom, a molecular factor

Songs of beats and twangs, voices of air and convulsing lips and throats, sugar a pretty mate

If you have a sweet one, you’re mating will succeed, if not, it’s a lonely life ‘til your last date.

No can do, can’t love you because you aren’t the One that I’d die for, I’d have to let y’all go

But for The One, a funeral pyre is all I can hope for, I can’t sit on star clouds in Space, yoyo

Never a chance I’d be good boy in Hehl either, probably organize a break out, a reincarnate

Be that as it may, being as such is a matter of a dream form, displayed for a cool, fake fate.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Samedhi, August 8th, 2020 A.D. @ 8:88 AM PST

{ Jammed this out while listenin’ to Marvel Comics #GuardiansOfTheGalaxy soundtrack link @ https://youtu.be/pS33w9vnJHI }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#WhatIsTheRecord #BareNakedLadies #AlwaysInVogue #HootieAndTheBlowfish @JimCroce @Madonna #Hackensack

FAR AWAY SIDE DISH OF THE VOID

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Friday, August 7, 2020

************** #VOGUE ***************

Love ya ‘til I die little queenie, you choose from the gallery of adolescence in the cosmic stew

Found on road, dead as a door nail, unable to resurrect the corpse, who’s no savior of the few

Singin’ birds, croakin’ toads, like my daddy did, not as sweet tears flow from clowns and fools

Songs’ words in and out of rhythm, rhyme, sonnets, epic sagas, I love me when my lip drools.

Dreamt of the Narrow Way and passed by the Matter and Energy into the cities of the angels

The words used to open the doors were like magic, I’m pleased and I’m thankful for the real

Making something nice and beautiful out of the ash and leftover crust of a burned, dark star

American Way or the Other Way or no Way at all, from Tibet to Tallahassee and back, so far.

Wishing and hoping for the Faith and Charity from that Hope will not uncover the far Ends

Pleasant or joyful, only One Way my genome wants to be, martyr toward all the evil friends

From the origin of the production of the zygote unto the remaining, disturbing memory too

Life’s a living thing, animated or anchored, grounded, flyin’ in clouds, try on a dream shoe.

Bridges built by humanity up to the top of the world’s center of being, angels fear to go there

What is old, Old York where the things themselves moved about the Bronx and Brooklyn fair

Songs sung, poems read, hair pulled out by the roots, all the passion of a Jersey Devil quack

Deprived and inhumane, we enter Doom, roller derby queens found a dark bar in Hackensack.

Words coming out of my mouth, produced from the jumbled thoughts of those who died then

After they thought about thoughts and jumbled them into a coherent philosophy of my zaZen

On the rats and the civilized apes who came long before my arrival in the mother’s void room

A gift of climactic passion dangled as a reward for inseminating the holiest emptiness’ tomb.

Slow down your roll mighty One from nowhere I know, not from this Earth, a soul of the gods

Roaming without a final destination in an immortal comet’s tail of smoking cinders, Hot-rods

Forms of the matter come and go,regardless of the ethics or morality of the Wills in all Things

To be animated or cease moving, stepping stones, look through a telescope at Saturn’s rings.

All of the remains to remember when the Past was the Present and the Future that never was

Anywhere you walk in my footsteps, you will get to where I got to, Ends like the origin, rock

Nothing is more cold than being all alone in a huge universe without anyone but One’s face

Everywhere I go to breathe the gas, it’s always there but I heard there’s emptiness in Space.

by

r j j stephan, i

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

{ Drafted while listenin’ to @BareNakedLadies & #IfIHadAMillionDollars &  #OneLessSetOfFootstepsOnYourFloorInTheMorning Jim Croce & #GreatestHits on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/Y-55nhfkn4Q }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#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.?