#Black #White #BlancoBrown @DuaneAllman #WARtheBand @TheEagles @WhiteyFord @Everlast

 SHOTS? ON BEING 1 LIFE OF IT {O}

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, September 16, 2020

-------------   #gITdown ----------

In an instant New York Minute moment in Time, the Space all around you and I lights up

In a black, ultraviolet radiation, everything white turns purplish like a black and blue cup

A holder of the Void, Nothing special other than everything that is Matter, atomic energy

Almost every holy place is the same, where you must go to become awakened from sleep.

Walking around or sleeping and dreaming or just unconscious as my zygote’s bones got free

A Constant in the whole shebang is an illusive recollection of your father’s spermatozoon glee

Among the host’s collection, only One may survive, two will not do and three well it’s a trinity

Which is the 3 persons in 1 God, a matter and energy phenomenon, this explains the mystery.

You got this story from others who came and wrote down their thoughts and then they died

They had no idea what was going on when they walked the planet, did their proverbial thing

On the other hand, it didn’t matter as long as you were happy and not in fear of being killed

By the bad, the evil, the mean men and women who were raised by the misguided souls of Id.

Mothers and fathers are not the anesthetic to the the atheism exuding from animated DNA

From the alpha to the inevitable omega, it’s a straight line from here to there, it’s what I say

Peeling off the outer shell of this trip you want to call either #Good or #Evil, you found me

Far away from where-ever you’re going to be when you finish this read, pandering rich glee.

Multiplying One times itself is nothing but itself, if there’s a mitotic divide caused by a Will

We get what we got, this is it, you’re lookin’ at it directly and inadvertently you became One

Original, Mortal, Venial get indulgences for the cancellation of responsibility, guillotine guilt

Up, down, to & fro over on the middle path, heads roll into silence, SLAM SHOTS & that’s It.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Mercredi, September 16th, 2020 A.D. @ 9:11 AM PST

{ Drafted while listenin’ to Duane Allman #HappilyMarriedMan in an infinite loop on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/vieQAhuqyl0 }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#ORIGIN #ONE

THE NINE FIFTEEN ONE @TedNugent #MotorCityMadman

BE A BUBBLE, SCREAM TROUBLE *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, September 15, 2020 

-------------  INTERMISSION --------------

In athletic cups I can drink about a gallon and a half, shame me in a trough of bloody punch

Grim nights ahead for those who downed more than three, Hell’s froze and you better jump

Back to your crib or your home or wherever you know you’re safe from the big bad oil pump

All of us just regular people that your paranoia dissolves into your pea brain, Captain Crunch.

What I love and what you love may be either one and the same or diametrically opposite too

Fun and games rupture the matrix and stop the serious mode from consuming the sky’s blue

No there’s nothing like being right all of the time, only because you never admit to knowledge

To know something is to have wisdom & wisdom’s knowing Nothing intimately for a reason.

Are you living on an island without any links to #Infowars being peddled by #Karen peddlers

They live around the US, we ain’t them but we paid to wash their Marxists Comrades’ come in

Now we or at least some of us seem surprised of the outcome of our K-12 system of idiot furs

Carried all over every cell of every human, head to toe, hair on top of every piece of dead skin.

Time and Space merge to cause the explosion that ignited the Big Bang’s essence and nature

Mother or father in charge of nothing at all in the accident beneath and all around us all, Ur

A mythical story at the end of the Platonic Republic, relies on a reader sticking to bitter ends

From a long way off, first Nothing then something peculiar on the way to wet diaper depends.

Punks on Babylon’s crossroads, eatin’ Cony Island or the Jersey Shore, out on the boardwalk

Plastic explosives and steel beams turn into liquid pig iron, all fall down like London’s epoch

Suppertime after all things that passed for reality swallows if you’re rich for Ends & free dope

Inside a snitchin’ room, dirty rats’ kid, ear sliced off clean, bloody Picasso’s noose is the rope.

Why girls get pregnant is no mystery, just to procreate the species genome here and now then

In any case, we all gonna go because our dad’s and mom’s made us come, back to a plethora

Of mice and men who came and went before we were even thought of, our turn’s bitter ends

You and I cling to guns and souls, hopin’ we don’t lose consciousness’ at death, a mind bends.

by

r j j stephan, i 

 

c. Tuesday, September 15th, 2020 A.D. @ 2:22 PM PST

{ Drafted listenin’ to #SimpleMan & hits by Creedence Clearwater Revival #HeardItThroughTheGrapevine link @ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jCfUxn2VMT8 }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

 

*Header is #TheScream by Edvard Munch's Expressionist Painting The Scream (1893)

"The Scream (1893) was painted by Norwegian artist @EdvardMunch at the end of the nineteenth century during a unique transitional period in history, often referred to as the fin de siècle. Prior to this time, artists were interested in painting their subjects as objectively as possible, as commercial success was often measured by technical skill in the days before cameras and photography were popular. By the end of the nineteenth century, brave and forward-thinking painters like Edvard Munch were less interested in showing off their technical skills and more inclined to use their art to express inner thoughts, feelings and emotions instead, often by painting with bright, exaggerated colors and simple shapes. Though reviled by art critics and considered too radical in their time, artists like Munch and even Vincent Van Gogh set the scene for Expressionism and the even more progressive modern art movements of the twentieth century."

 

PAX #BLUEonBLACK #BlackAndBlue #Bruises @Train

PAX ON Y’ALL, 1833-1896 ALFRED

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Monday, September 14, 2020

Some say that there’s a time for everything but nobody knows who said it first, but who GAS?

Nobody cares if they’ve got the correct information to formulate conclusions regarding reality

Therefore, they move about the field of dreams & find the miserable lives floundering in scat

From their own kin’s aberrant behavior to the herd mentality of the mass of civilization, drat!

Fortune is a lucky injection into the causes and effects that become what is in the end, Life

A game or a serious enterprise of the Many who apparently worship the One, under the Sun

In any case, a rhyming series of thoughts and ideas to end in the final destinations sweet spot

Steal that ticket, that’s the Way, somebody else will do it if you don’t, act that power, Know It!

Then with the Unknown in your rat-snitchin’ corner, go about your animation feeling, king

Or a queen as the case may be, either way, essence of the human species is a Substance thing

Where the atomic and subatomic merge into the vortex of the Singularity, it’s never my fault

A messenger from the belly of the beast, upchucking the Lord at a last supper, for sinner salt.

Lord is overlord or under-lord but in any case, a creature feature of comedy and tragedy plays

Child and adult play their games until that bitter end corpus dilecti calling of the end of days

It doesn’t matter that the universe, galaxy and solar system are big, infinitesimal good fights

What matters is that funky, religious, apolitical skew of philosophy’s End of Queen’s knights.

On a south Monterey beach of the Pacific coast, California golden rock in a San Andreas fault

Come in the 1800’s and leave in the 2020’s and the beat goes on to infinity in a goddess’ vault

Dripping karma from seven holes in the head, tears from heaven on my way to touchdowns

Trippin’ over the footing in a headwind just before resuming the backstroke on Mimi’s bones.

Alpha males and Omega females make the world go ‘round in circles ad infinitum or they die

Without recombining their DNA product of their own ancestry’s random trip under The Sky

Therefore, besides flyin’ around the sun in space and not knowing why, there is no accident

Earth came from a Big Bang and is a microscopic bit of dust in the Cosmos’ collection of rent.

My crafted argument leaves any who follow to the deduced conclusion, then out go the lights

There is no liberty or free will choice in the mechanism, it’s a necessary condition for the con

You’ve got to blindly believe in the meaning of words, as you understand them to mean Fun

Games played between birth and death, back to sleep, as the tamed souls eat growling bites.

Yes, therefore there’s no disagreement, logic rules of reason in Zen order of subjective objects

Become the predication of the animals we’ve enculturated into fruit of animal sex production

From the skin outside to the bones and horns that frame the beasts, all of those survived sex

Brutal to the females and weak males, in defense of the useless, soft male, what’ll be will be.

If you must kill or be killed to stay alive yourself or keep your loved ones safe above & below

Interior to our Earth down to the core of it’s being, hot as the sun’s exterior, It needs a blow

From the battles of Montezuma’s halls, Tripoli’s shores or the American Civil War fratricides

My friends and kinfolk are forlorn sequestered behind their homes walls, not homeless & old.

Bricks in the wall are all there is and they’ve been reformed from the original star dust of Sols

Madmen don’t burn PRIZES in Americas’ or Euro-Asians’ 21st century thrones of good times

Space’s Time isn’t animated by nature, a paradoxical singularity generates Warp, black holes

Therefore, I’m what I’ve always been since my origin, empty fixation on narrow word rhymes.

A gist to the whole shebang leaves no question that Nothing has been what it’s all about, eh?

Emptiness outside of the matter of atoms which coalesce into forms of shaped dust to play

One happened first and then there were many, similar but not precisely like the One’s DNAs

So, it begins, therefore it ends, shirt off my back, out in the street, barefoot, robbing its divas.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Lundi, September 14th, 2020 A.D. @ 11:11 AM PST

{ Drafted while listenin’ to Carlos Santana #Amigos side A & B on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/rg2s3ojA3T4 }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.??