#ricoSacto

Wednesday, August 19, 2020

#EyesCouldUseALittleRain #OnTheWindowPane

STRATOVARIUS ON A WOOD FLOOR
Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, August 19, 2020
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Stepped back a few paces when I got a whiff of the aromatic sense, my daddy was my brother
I knew it was a disguise for the hookah smoke and since I did not care one way or the other
I inhaled to my heart’s involuntary delight where all of my joy originates, a bit below my belt
Not for a small reason, I am falling in love with my violin’s sweet rubbing chords I surely felt.

A concerto with a B flat or in A diminished, hey I don’t care if was a C sharp, the deed was in
Before and after the flow of the sounds from a delightful angel in disguise of wood and nylon
A dream might end right near a last rhyme, at that point, being spent, I am a Matter’s mirage
All of it came of a dream out of nowhere but some Grateful Dead grave down by Baton Rouge.

Magic or just a coincidental accident of random circumstances winding up in a favorable win
All that even an orphan expects or wants is peace, love & a fair shake to get some laughin’ in
From NYC to Peking. over to Moscow, London, Lisbon, Paris, Rome and Lake Titicaca H2O
Formula for success of the genome is identical to a millennium ago, strong survive, weak go.

As far as you can see or hear, nothing feels as right as the sound of an opus in a concert hall
You close your eyes for a moment and fly away on the wings of your soul to an unknown port
A hole in your soul that normally is closed for business, then opens wide to accept a holy gift
Strung out on the wood and the mind’s direction of the phalanges upon the hearse gear shift.

Cup was full, then half full, then half empty, then the lights went out, no dawn e’er returned
Out of the Way to see what was going on while still on the path, there is no world of the dead
Guidance from the people who abided by the ten commands and rules of the road, made me
Know ethical judgements from A to Z, I row my boat gently, life’s a dream, did I tell you, G?

On the Dry Creek River I can recollect the steelhead jumpin’ for flys below the fogginess
Creme de la crop moves the rest behind it, no time to waste dilly dallying for indecisiveness
Rocking the soul within is all I can do, I wish you the same for holy Nicolo Paganini’s sake
Pick away, saw that fiddle ‘til the cows come home, @MarshallTucker1 & @CharlieDaniels1.

Bright as day and dark as night all in one day, around in circles we go without gettin’ so fake
Not much anyway, sometimes if you spin around too fast you get sick, like you’re from Mars
Monkeys and men are the same, they like their heads to stay steady so they can keep awake
In the end, my baby’s some kind of wonderful, to me and the world, I’m rewarded! My stars!

by
r j j Stephan, I
c. Mercredi, 19 August 2020 A.D. @ 1830 hours PST
FINIS
W.W.A.R.D.?

Tuesday, August 18, 2020

#FireInTheHole #TakeCover #DoliIncapax Well, what would @AnyRand have to say 'bout @Montgomery_Gentry ? #ANTHEM @ANTHEM

doli incapax or got away with murder
by
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Too young to know the difference between moral codes of behavior, act like a war hero
Annihilating all living things in sight that might threaten your own life while fast asleep
Instead, clearing the narrow way for safe movement and a supply chain of sustenance
For the sake of mirroring the images given before and after personal death, pray to God.

If and only if the humanity doesn’t evolve into another species in future, flippin’ millennia
This homo sapiens form will become extinct, reproduction will cease, cloning not an option
Then it’s up to the gods, the strong will survive and the mighty will gain the spoils of wars
Mating, eating, sleeping, fighting for property and dominance of Space in Time, as whores.

It’s a fait accompli in the end, it has to be this way and can be no other, not in or of a fake flirt
Heaven sent all but the wisdom and knowledge beyond atmospheric pressure of pink-red dirt
Never anything but net when I shoot my set-shot or jumper from a perimeter, all swisheroos
It goes through more often than not, points of the game of 21, 7-zip deep down, lousy blues.

Too young to look like Evil is lurking within, without ethical morality’s fake zombies of food
All the little punks and tots are just the models for taking up Space here and now, to die for
Miserable or happy from dusk until dawn, dreaming the head to toe reward for being good
When you put your two lips together and blow, it reminds you & I of Norma Jean’s star door.

by
r j j stephan, i
c. Monday, August 17th, 2020 A.D. @ 4:44 PM PST
F I N I S
W.W.A.R.D.?

Monday, August 17, 2020

#BurningDown #JackDaniels #Countryized

I AIN’T GOIN’ OUT TO CHOP WOOD!
Richard Joseph Stephan · Monday, August 17, 2020
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It is no joke, it’s the meaning of living and dying on Earth or anywhere in the solar system
I am a comedian and I can’t make any more jokes out of this, no woman, no pain to them
Men move it as human beings, back and forth, to and fro but there’s a reason for madness
In the middle of the tidal waves comin’ in off of the NorCal coast, I saw a fish bigger than I.

I see what I saw when I saw it, I go faster than light but I slow down to get debunked by God
Leap of blinded faith that you and I inherited from either Adam and Eve or monkey bloods
As if I’m not here and now, relating this theoretical probability theory abound in deep floods
As if the Earth had so much water in the past thousands of years, what’s left is the deep sea.

Nothing is absolute nor free to be, that’s an irrefutable fact of living here & now, to die for it
Everything is here, it’s all right now in the present, the past is history, the future is a lit debit
Amazed imagination is unqualified to opine on the unseen yet obvious to the blindsided dead
What do you know about me not bein’ any good at kissin’ you, you like to lie about that, eh?

I’m the best you ever knew, the best you’ll ever know after I’m dead and gone, game’s got skin
I got a bottle of CAMP & rack of #OldStyle, we’re goin’ down to the river by the holler, you in?
Lake Michigan rolled me on down the Mississippi to Biloxi, got an accent from Texas on my C
Lovin’ the y’alls and none of this is my fault, I got here and it was just like this, it’ll always be.

Miracle that this and that got here from an exploding mass of amorphous particulates, a hole
Now at this shootout there’s nothing fair anymore, the backstabbers are your sisters of blow
No warning from my daddy or mama when I left my boots by the bed, nightmares were afoot
In a four cornered room you go, windows and door wide open, nobody but murder she wrote.

Girls and the booze and the smoke were all I knew on the last night at the steps of the Doom
I went out to chop some wood but I never came back, it was not easy without an axe or a saw
Used up and still alive, breathing, scratching for a cure for starvation and bleeding heart sin
Think it’s all about the reproduction of the DNA, attraction of the sex to implement the skin.

Price to pay is the ignorance and wisdom switching from on to off, all good to evil out in back
Nothing to know once the ending’s become the present, recollecting dreams in a dream pack
You never were alive when you thought you were, died and then became immortal as an atom
Happiness’ whistle is blown in sweet home of my bones, homo sapiens’ 1st Cause of The One.

by
r j j stephan, i
c. Monday, August 17th, 2020 A.D. @ 11:11 AM PST
{ Drafted listenin’ to @MorganWallen #CoverMeUp & #HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/KEnFCa-5p9E }
FINIS
W.W.A.R.D.?