#ShredYourBones #SiftYourQuirksForGold #GotsTheLittleFeat #CategoricalInvective

DARK WEB, GOLDEN DAWN’S ACES

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, October 1, 2020

------------------ #WhatsGoinON ------------------

Paradise? Misplaced in the matrix’ purple southern sky, breakin’ wind in a vinyl groove tube

Crackers and jokers seem to function well when tribal showdowns crop up for a power move

Expanded mind of germs & microbes evolved from an occult teaching of self defense survival

Killers roam plains & jungles to eat the LIFE, humans hot spitting bones of buzzard & jackal.

Bees working and flying to and fro from the hive to the work, the pollen for the honey spots

Queen and the unlucky mates who die after their application to the princess’ machine slots

When and if the sickness of the AM becomes a huge bowl of rocky road ice cream sundaes

Hives of categorical invectives dissolve the elemental substance that gravitates to a sun daze.

All my fault or so it seems to the untrained eyes that stare holes through bee’s wax swarms

Points taken to the wood shed with the bad boys needing to originate maggots’ tapeworms

All that’s left of us all, no hope for any reincarnation of any soul into any other antibody foal

Punks runnin’ the dozens on sisters’ faith and hope we’ll turn out well in a hard, bone skull.

Pinned down for the opine on the nature of the beast, the thing itself at hand, introspective

Reason’s common theme to be or not to be is not the only question, there’s the only answer

I am here & now, I meant to be here to say the things that I recall, by heart, quote Dr. Strange

Pruned trees of knowledge and climbed about barbed wire, dusted off the dark web’s Range.

A domain of incomprehensible vastness and put out on a linear trajectory of a thrown trident

First Cause of all of these effects, only one infinitely tiny piece of this One, I am all the advent

Of your apocalyptical adventure on Earth, call it DNA of God’s Mankind, more than Nothing

Void in an empty closet at the back of the diamond mine, underground lord of the gold ring.

In the self-reflection’s wake, the tide remains invisible like a fleeting orgasmic punch the nose

It is here and now where anything goes, meaning causes & effects are divine fingers’ ten toes

More or less than the One is the Void or what it takes to multiply One and thus, two gods of It

Disembodied soul flight of a natural mystic, deep down in a hot mess, in the Dark Web sheet.

Right or left honkies on porches watchin’ neighbors’ Popes’ kin comingle blood in Havana

To congregate for the sake of the species’ genome, code X of the unknown life grace & vice

Figure it or not, it is what it is, what will be will be and you can’t step in the same river twice

Truth to take to the westbank of the Ole Miss, Mississippi or Big Muddy. Missouri, Nirvana.

Hot rods moving so fast until they smash and bend into heavy metal, mass of miracles set

Into the reflection on the glass-like dimensional barrier between who you are and you bet

During games people play every day and every night on seven continents full of red rovers

RNA out of nowhere in Space yet in a Time warp of perpetual motion & an unmoved mover.

Deity says it’s not the fault of the origin that the denizens of the matter live in corruptifornia

Forces of construction, reconstruction and deduction of the destruction are all standing down

Electorate of the elected are the majority who maintain the status quo, that’s up or downtown

Homo Erectus’ finger was on the trigger, evolved herd mental cases now enjoy stolen Utopia.

Looking up forever will not bring the thing itself back into your mind’s eye nor rubber soul

Will to Power will always be the One, the Only Way down the middle path to Ends, eternity

Commitments and commandments from the bowels of a Big Bang or tiny pitch Black Hole

The system has a glitch but it is endemic to the pandemic of the 2020 A.D. extinction of me.

A day I died, maybe, maybe not, nobody can say but me, on that day, I’m gonna fly way high

If you see a dream when you sleep at night or in a day dream that there’s a star born again

It would be me, not another, just One and the same as I was in the beginning, shown as I die

Forevermore it will be nevermore, still somewhere in the revolution of a dirty, infinite spin.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. ROCKTOBER 1ST, 2020 Anno Domini @ 1:11 PM PST

{ Rocked out of my mind while listenin’ to Grateful Dead #JustTheJams on youTube link @https://youtu.be/c8O3BfgruDk }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

@MartinaMcBride @GwenStefani & @BlakeShelton = This is IT @GratefulDead #JustTheJamz @ACDC #FlyOnTheWall #ClassicO

FLYS ON THE WALL, SONS OF BEE *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, September 29, 2020

 ---  #DamSkippy #Snap ---

Demonic rats vote black and white trash into positions of signature authorization but I’ll cry

Tears aren’t comin’ down my cheeks any longer since they’ve dried up in the county’s pig sty

A reason for the intrepid drunk tanks of the cities and towns of the whole world of golden dirt

Placed here & now in Space without an infinite allotment of time to face the fact, God’s a flirt.

For the sake of being a neutral stimulus for nothing at all in regard to philosophy of lives’ skit

Dream within a dream in each and everyone of the beings, the homo sapiens, One’s alive in It

1st contact with UFO’s synapses’ type of linguistics, ghostly mysterious, atheistic magic trick

Gets the babies of the seven continents believing that they will remain alive when dead, Sick!

Now then, since it’s impossible for all innocent folk to both know the Truth and be happy too

A panacea for this decimating data is that you will walk nearly alone without catching the flu

Sick & laying dying is for the masses who believe that there’s no better Time than the Present

It’s wrong like Marx, Lenin & Trotsky but not Trump & Geo. Washington’s advice & consent.

Making fun of what you see and writing and speaking as if you know it all, it’s a funny sound

You observe with your intellect and interpret the horrible sights, sounds and feelings of life in

Or out of white and black trash cans and dumpsters, dregs of humanity, rats and roaches’ sin

Looking around 360 degrees, contemplating One’s naval, mother, father of all underground.

Somebody like my grandma or my daddy told me before I could see over the commode to pee

You should always do your duty to God and your country, be nice to your ma, your papa & kin

Never steal another man’s girlfriend, wife or private property and watch your back for the sin

None alive will be as good as you, no one else will always be philosophically correct, trip to be.

Schools harbor the teachers of the philosophies which are exactly like virus’ DNA & bacteria

They teach invasion of the host, break down the codes of order and dissolve the mass hysteria

Leaving destruction of the order of things because they had Nothing, they love Nothing at all

That’s the ends of origins but not the coffin of a climax yet, a personal death’s shroud, a pall.

Underground or in an urn full of ash and bone, maybe in a box on a shelf in a closet’s bowls

To go back to the place you came from which is nowhere but here, a gleam in your kin’s eye

Animated cosmic trash, dust of magnetic behavior of Red Giants & Singularity Black Holes

...void, empty, zero gravity, silence, feel Nothing, you always were, now shoot the wall’s fly!

by

r j j stephan, i * StopTappinTheHeader

c. Tuesday, Nine-TwentyNine, TwentyTwenty Anno Domini @ 4:44 AM PST

{ Listenin’ to Grateful Dead #JustTheJamz Tube link @ https://youtu.be/Eh7yeysPDhI }

FINIS!

W.W.A.R.D.?

#EnforcedDisenfranchisment #WelcomeHome #FUBAR #TobaccoRoad #LunaticsLiarsAndLameMothers

FUBAR MASK IN TOMBSTONE DUST

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, September 27, 2020

---------------- #BooksEmptyHeadsFullOfIt ----------------

Coming from a Joker DNA in Space next to your naked bones screwed dead, yet I am not lost

I need to find myself alone again, where I used to be without yours or anyone else’s hype cost

Being beholding to helping you every step you take, every move you make, so stay in control

Finished, caput, totally out of the favors that used to be Humanity’s #COVID19 diseased soul.

Just let me have my food, my shelter, my drinks and smokes and I’m good until a bitter End

When it all comes down from the outside and begins collapsing within, I won’t leap off a cliff

Y’all go to the place where nothing remains, like a song that nobody ever sings to money lend

To the future and to the past we give this present day and night, out of our control, just a GIF.

Today is a trick from yesterday planting seeds to sprout flowers to grow into terps for twerps

Serving thousands who alter their consciousness for the sake of sanity and avoidance of Hell

Which may be where the sinners are sent once it’s determined that they couldn’t give a slurp

A confined, extremely hot place, #Walkinonthesun with @SmashMouth ringin’ a Liberty bell.

Cryptic scribbles on walls & first grade Primer lingo give you keys to a 1932 Ford coupe 409ci

Dual quad carb for an after walk on the sun’s Time Warp, nothing to smoke, not even a pinch

Jacked up and revealed, then retracted and immersed into the lower echelons around you pal

Joined at the hip, stiff lip Hippy chicks born to grandparents from Woodstock, a cinch, UB1.

In a manner of speaking in tongues and whipping the girl scouts into shape for the cub scouts

Den mothers do nothing but monitor the fledgling taxpayers’ account of their twists & stink

Eventually after decades, they’ve grown into a connoisseur smoke of burning leaf and seeds

Mint flavored to the taste buds, past the windpipe into the lungs and back up through I.N.C.

To be this man or woman, this human being is as easy as being a virus or bacterial germ-bug

It is animated and dependent on the host, the living and breathing, self-replicating man-slug

What’s this substantial humanity, dirty rocks of planet Earth, Form of a Godsmackin’ room

With or without the original plans from the creator of the entire COSMOS, we’re all doomed!

I brought a knife to the gunfight because nobody with a gun, loaded and cocked fears a blade

Sharp enough to puncture thin steel and skin, to slice limbs, heads and vital organs that fade

As the blood and innards become the outside of what used to be deep within, contained milk

Hot with the flames of scalding, hot lava from the volcanic interruptus of the Big Bang’s ilk.

There’s a minstrel attempting to strum and sing the Unknowns and the Unforgettable hymns

Heroes and heroines said nothing while the spinners of tales took to the weaving of the hums

Words made flesh to die in between the covers of the books nobody reads about gods we trust

#2 odor, unforgivable, like a dream in a dream, One Singularity, disintegrated my balls’ dust.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Dies Domenica, September 27, 2020 Anno Domini @7:11 Ante Meridien, P S T }

{ Bled out listenin’ to WAR THE BAND #HITS link @ https://youtu.be/Ig4jQrofnBI }

 

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?