#FishinInTheDark #FishON ##FisherGods

MEN GET KILLED, ALL OF ‘EM DIE

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Monday, October 26, 2020

--- ssssssssssssssssssss ---

On any border of any country on any of the seven continents, there’s a naked ape baby cryin’

About the rich and the poor, the unfortunate and the lucky dogs of war and peace’s fake sin

Gods’ one and all, just like the myriad of star clusters in the blackness of outer space’s dam

Singularity is less than simple, it’s basic prerequisite of all propositional logic, it’s all Adam.

In the meantime, all of the isotopes either expand or collapse as atoms of molecules bend

In black lights and glowing spirits within the bones and blood, amazing you didn’t attend

To the facts, the sight of what you saw was not the body, it was the human soul, a UV shack

Reason why the appearance was different is because lit up wavelengths overshadow black.

Despair won’t be the only final feeling of the genome, there’s always a cryin’ shame moment

One is in store for each and every one of us just because smooth sperm found an egg living

Life alive in a nervous breakdown, a common denominator of fragments, so below I got sent

Complete once the momentary lapse of reason has occurred allowing a blink of high lighting.

Who or what, how or when come to mind, last gasp of oxygen won’t yield what Faith allows

Blind belief in something you’ve never seen or experience is a madman’s venture, fool’s blows

If by the age of reason you were advised to look at the eternal truth of life on Earth, you’d be

Tricky and compliant to the causes and effects you never will have any control over, you see?

Remember that I told you so, grandchild, long lost friend and people that smoke blew aside

From Ann to Nanette to Valerie to Maryjane, we had a great time y’all didn’t we? Crow cock!

Know it all or just make educated guesses based on the Science and the Metaphysics of a rock

Earth called a planet, actually just a dying star, oceanic flow is frozen Dihydrogen monoxide.

I am mortified and I hope you are too, I was shooting to kill and if you weren’t, you’ve erred

You’ve all been deceived by the papal bishoprics and high priests of humane sacrificial affairs

On the funeral pyre, you die like we all do, suspicious of the reason why is futile so why ask?

It’s a trap you can’t get out of, you don’t want to, but in the end, it’s time, breathin’, no mask.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Lundi, ROCKTOBER 26th, 2020 A.D. @ 2:22 PMPST

{ Drafted while listenin’ to SOME #BritSoul Ms. Vanessa Haynes LIVE https://youtu.be/Nw_AVM3jNNA }

FINIS 

W.W.A.R.D.?

#TittiesBeer @Montgomery_Gentry #BigDogs #ShortLives #RIP

CUT THE LIGHTS, KNOCKIN’ BOOTS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Sunday, October 25, 2020

---------------- #BeTheDog ----------------

Stay away just like there’s a #BewareOfDog sign right there on the outside gate y’all know

It’s the way it’s gotta be because the boredom and ennui of the nation is so endemic, so-so

You and I gotta do what we gotta do, in English it’s universal and foreign tongues drip mud

Held off the unintelligible sounds of the tower of Babel where me and you split all the crud.

Won the whole kitten caboodle ‘cause everyone else was bluffin’ or folded their Boston beans

I didn’t show my hand before or after the final cut, the last bet before the Beg Bang ended it

Not any origin of this universe but the end of my long borrowed unit, here & now, DNA genes

Myriad of confusing colors & order of things called #Chaos of Divinity, this divine is the chit!

Evermore since the age of reason amassed seven years times ten, sixty nine so fine, all mine

Hearts fallen down my memory bank, jumped the cliff about ten times, OK maybe I’m wrong

The bottom line is, my infatuation with the eggs of the genome was legend, in my mind only

Not even One, except the last One needed the boots knockin’ 7 or 8 times, gods in my songs.

Schooled and militarized my weapons for the capture and evolution of the Love and Legends

Pale moons shining brighter than stars fallin’ 360 around us out of nowhere, the Void ends

Like the last kiss from the love of your life, the living one not after-life empty spirits’ fates

Knockin’ boots right after, me and you baby, you know who you are, let us open the gates.

Sweet dreams woke you up and there I was, as it should and always will be, I’m One, the One

Who came from somewhere out of Time and Space and intersected with your lips’ padlocked

Nevermore to miss anything of the Yang, my Yin is sugar, in the crowd of all Chicago-blocked

California dreamin’ in a sea surf, Pacific fishin’ souls up a lazy river of old man Sonny’s Sun.

Used to be a Past until the Future became the Present for a moment or two, maybe a bit less

Fraction of a flash in the pan, the picture develops from the negative to the positive, I confess

Not to the priest who pretends to be more than a human, blessed with the celibacy of Eunich

Nothing to pass on to the gene pool of acid, a remix, all recombinations already fixed, kicks!

That’s all it’s for, knockin’ boots for kicks because we can girl, just me and you, shut the door

Nitty gritty comes and goes in a moment, when the sugar stirs the hearts fall, all rich & poor

Three songs more or less gets the two who need to tango for the Ultimate Target, to be the Fit

Only the super strong will survive the height of ecstasy from the baby dance, call it the tricks!

Lat call for the last drink, we got the Harvey Wallbangers again and now it’s under silk screes

Shades drawn, no daylight will come in until 12 noon at the Arctic, yo feets don’t fail me now

Dark as it was when I closed my eyes, you’ll never know my happy sight of you naked, seized

Punk that I used to be, Good Hominid, BAD DUDE, warrior, patriot, slung drinks & the blow.

That’s what you do to defend your country when you’re a teen in fear, shoot them or shoot up

Pale moons were up there way back then and they still come up now and then, in a funky cup

Sugar stirred from the first wet dream to the final relaxing of the muscles, toilet bowel release

Nowhere to run when you’re on mop up duty for the corpses, reverence required for a corpse.

Halloweens’ for all of the Dead & Gone Ones and all of the souls still alive on Earth, winners

All of the saints who died and all of the sinners who became saints and all kids of the sinners

Just a kiss of death is all y’all need to gain the Putsch, you will ascend to the top of the roots

Revolution in and out of parking lots, A-Bombs, H-Bombs, #MOAB’s last call to knock boots.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Dimanche, ROCKTOBER 25th, 2020 A.D. @ 6:66 AMPST

{ Dripped this from heaven whilst listenin’ to @LukeBryan #KnockinBoots (DUH?) on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/yTJGOeW1qx8 }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

@LukeBryant @EricChurch @Santana @Nickelback

OUT OF OO UPTIGHT SIGHT, RAIN!

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Saturday, October 24, 2020

-------   #Bryant/ChurchTime ------

Everything in the universe is here and now on this planet, Earth, third rock from a burnt One

Silver and gold come from the innards and even the One doesn’t know what it’s nature Is, son

Come Sunday or Monday the things themselves will all disappear into cosmic dust like mama

She was here and now she’s all gone, a remarkable memory for a wisp of wind on my ol’ papa.

In the meantime, since I’ve found out that the Sun really never goes up or down, my eyes do

Asleep because I must without a free will on that requirement of the genome, to dream too

About whistling in the wind, trying to see the clear light in the eternal darkness love groovin’

Sundown or golden dawn is just the spin of the wobble, the only reason to drink spirits’ Sin.

Mortals wanting to be immortal without their 208 bones is an absurd yet obligation for Man

On being all too human, desire and will making a difference for a silent majority and it’s fan

That would be me, I’m a fan of the silent majority, I might be the only fan as the sun sinks in

To the imagination of the pretty girls and smart-arse boys who populate the ape-man skin.

Could be black or white underneath the hair on the skin, we’ve become dumb & naked apes

Evolved through the natural selection of females wanting a male boyfriend, dad of po’ kids

In or out of the caves, the huts, apartments, condos and mansions to house the egg/germs

Songs to sing and love to make between me since I’m here and now & you are not, Worms!

Tears of the ocean water on the ground of being, girls gone mad to create more baby’s blade

Infantile and innocent become the assimilation of fake pain and suffering of being so played

In a Big Bang or at the essence of the Singularity of senoritas who drank all my Margarita sun

On our way at sundown, riding into the West, far from the origin and on to destiny, I’m gone!

Me and you make the only two that need to be under a pale moon or a blazing hot star, a sun

Me, you, us and them, all of us, living, dead and those who have yet to be, we’re the DNA fun

Acid alive and kicking, Lysergic doors of perception blown wide open, it’s black jack D swillin’

Sweet and sour, all of it is the Need, the Desire to be knocking boots until the cows come In.

You know you’ve got it all, everything I need, you got it, like Roy Orbison used to sing for Sue

Higher Joseph Love than the highest place in space where you can still breathe, below a cusp

Of Ends and Origins, in a Twilight Zone that I can’t recollect being in, maybe a bee or a wasp

Is all I could do to germinate the world, fill the hives with sustenance and die for nothing too.

There’s a good chance that it’s highly probable, just might be possible to be more than bones

Look in the mirror or a reflection in the glass-like pool of blackwater in lagoons, a soul moans

Since the first decade of breath and fear of spankings, I knew this was all a matter of Timing

This Bad Business that this species rolls with, at least for the moments I lived, canary singing.

Zeroing in on the destination when you’re nearly out of fuel, you know you can’t make it Hair

I suppose you’ll close your eyes tight so you don’t see it coming, at that last blink in the hood

Chips are all in, the table is called with Infinity’s poker face, royal flush, four aces or One pair

Monaqita and Mona Lisa, forget about fittin’ in my groove, It’s raining & we’re in the mood!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Saturday, ROCKTOBER 24th, 2020 A.D. @ 7:11 AMPST

{ Journey through fake news & rockin’ on youTube Carlos Santana & Rob Thomas LIVE #SMOOTH @ https://youtu.be/28E8WKZ614w }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?