@LosLonelyBoys #Rockin' @TowerOfPower #HITS #CantDrive55MPH @SammyHagar @ThreeDogNight #InTheMoodOrNot @RobertPlant

GOD MADE MAD DAMS, PLATO & THE.44's, HENCE, HORRIFOROUS WORRIES, YOU'RE FIRED {edit}

Nothing of substance & it's atomic content left when death calls your bluff, #FakeNews' hopes

Hunting the surface for something to eat without working for #FakeNews sin, white trash US

It's got a lot of good stuff the white boys just throw into the garbage cans #Saved by the popes

They have nice clothes on their fat covered bones, satin, silk, wool, fleece and I ain't jealous

If you move around inside of a shell and you can't get out to stretch your wings, you're a secada

Become a nymph for 13 years & One won't have predators & all of hatched egg young'll survive

Bums and the junk they peddle on the side streets and alleys among the throngs of succulents

It's a secada world again, this year is the 13th and the hatching will soon commence the scents.

Scribbled a message on a third dimension of the sky, we're upside-down & inside-out in the bed

Consider this, where you yourself, your super ego and Id go every night or day when you squirm

Nowhere, that's correct, it's identical to where you were 'fore a meeting of eggish pseudosperm

Perfection is never a problem, the whole universe is perfect, the parts when detached, undead.

Follow the facts & the politicians will follow you right off of the cliff, it's just this way, don't diz

Mere graffiti scribbled on subway walls, common idiots of epidemic proportions with no reason

No purpose to be alive but you know why you die, stop breathing a minute and boom, see son?

Sick no more in these 208 bones, multidimensional consciousness inherited from homo hablis.

Don't save & don't spend, follow a herd of sheeple right off the cliff to a brutal boneyard scree

I've no idea what kind of moron you think I am but I'm not your token #woke, single black hoe

Seventh son, I am what I am and I can't stands no more, would you mind gettin' off of my Hill

Hey!  Hee, come on man, you know the thing, I think I am, one lost & found spirit's rubber soul.

by

r j j  stephan, i

c.  Thursday, May 27th, 2021 Anno Domini @ 6:66 AMPST

{ Tripped out of my face & fingers this AM while listenin' to the @TowerOfPower #UrbanRenewal on youTube BEFORE the @Armstrong_GettyShow on @650KSTEAM #DarknessOfTheDay #ToP @https://youtu.be/UrxRJ9HlfZk }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#SixteenCandles #AllYouNeedProcreation #SeeNothingInEverything #LikeItNot #Kinks #King & #DooWop #DrunkAsASkunk #SkunksDontDrink

STRUM OF STRUNG-OUT 6-STRINGS, A PHYSICAL GRAFFITI MIRAGE'S MIDNIGHT RIDE

There are no more than four, six or twelve strings of cryng sheep's guts in a symphonic hysterotomy

In this lit up world, as above this one & below everyone else's there's a reason for being here & now

Only one and one half hours to explain the nature of the cosmos to infidels with intellect deficiency

No way to explain the surprise at the dead end of information, before the garden of Eden's holy cow.

Divinity disapproved of the disobedience to the rule of law, the commandment to avoid the tiptap

From the knowledge tree's sap, gets you drunk so your own father doesn't know you, tip o' the cap

Hit those hardballs and the buckets for years from nine to seventeen, then the war of Da Nang got It

My time in this Space was not mine for forty five months and a basic training day, all on the GI teat.

Only won at the end when it felt I was losing the battle at the end of the war, wanted to AWOL chit

I stuck it out, in uniform and honored my commitment to God and my country, had a GI Bill party hit

Degreed, careered and retired from two entities who remunerated my Time with a stipend to die for

What you most probably will never know is what it means to be me, man, it's a trip if enter the door.

Transitory stages from pre-conception to post-mortem, has the a priori and the necessary a posteriori

For the propositional argument for the proof that what didn't exist in time can suddenly be created too

As if there's a painter or sculptor who creates a world renowned work of art & then disappears at sea

We're left with a master's piece in some 64 square chess board of first & last moves, stalemate blues.

Wandering around in the sand and stone garden parts that no longer are mastered by water's waves

Disappearing into outspace with the rest of the oxygen and hydrogen, leakin' out stratosphere caves

Little missies and the old maids and widows who outlive the naked skinned apemen, skinwalker's tea

I smoked it after I grew it and mixed it with the mushroom and the cacti concoction, surfin' Monterey.

Sweet and sour move the taste and smell into the holy, sweet spot that only you and I know, mai oui?

Or maybe not both of us but I do, can't explain it to the uninitiated ones who have not seen the lights

Being dead for a minute or two brings you where you wanna come back from but don't stay too long

Your time'll come when it's scheduled, it ain't random, it's all set but you've no clue & that's so wrong.

Confetti falling all around me, 360 degrees for some reason like gravity has no effect, dreamin' awake

Power to move stones and change minds from illogical arguments to the solution of their being woke

Culture creeps who were programmed by mean, ugly miscreants unaccepted by their own clan parties

Piercings everywhere from head to toe, hair sculpted to distract from the plain Jane or Juan tan faces.

Mortified by the Rastafarian symbolics, the streams of categorical imperatives, forms of Plato apology

To the society of men and women, who came and went before his screes in the squares with the elegy

To have been and to cease to be are all that could be downloaded into the dialectic for the sake of one

That one would be anyone who would not be scared stiff by the Truth about existence & eternity fun.

Live today, gone tomorrow is about all you can comprehend, forget about who told me & why I know

Now you know and that's all that's important, now you do what you wilt, the future is already, we died

Just like the Past, I kid you now, a momentary lapse of the Present, a reasonable time to need a blow

Of gods to save us from songs sung 'bout eternal suffering in a Nova cluster of Black Holes, let's ride!

by

r j j  stephan, i

c.  Mercredi, May 26th, 2021 A.D. @ 7:11 PMPST

{ Drafted jammin' to some #PhysicalGraffiti by @LedZeppelin from the @IrishO'African youTube channel link @ https://youtu.be/EH6I31ev1GM }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#HappilyMarriedMan #AnAnthologyVolII #WearYourSMARTglasses

DIVINITY COLORED TAXES ABOVE & BELOW MAMA'S #LP WATCHTOWER

-------------------#SkipThis---GDTPM----------------
Bums and junkys conjure a daughter & son broulet but you can stuff IT where it can't shine
Lazy bones of soylent green drunk drones, dying to work & take CoVid tests, it's gold dough
Yet the chromosomes survive in other formats, in other shapes and sizes, in a world of chit
Betting that you don't have enough chit to pay for the trip you're on nor the one you get.

Well the payment is nigh but that's the least of your worries if you ain't armed with a wife
Thank the monkeys and chimps who want your money, your possessions, your family's life
To be the top of the pack is a place we all want to be but I am there, yes, I'm the One too
Giving away the punch line before the joke's set up, a way of workin' the room, too soon?

Songs sung to the sweet beats of the animal skins strung over the heavy metal's pi circles
All the girls went all the way and that is the end of the story, turned into the nuns' extinct
Of priestly bishoprics and papal judges of Good and Evil, ancestors all dead in Sing Sing's Sin
Original disobedience in a garden of Eden?  Come on man, you're pullin' my leg outlier it in.

Strings plucking the notes of A through G ad infinitum, octaves above and below the dead
Sleeping yet not dreaming yet, in a deadend Void between Light and Dark, star's black hoe
Unwound spool of fishing line at a three pound test, six inch leader & piece of pencil lead
This here & that there compared to nothing, frozen strings hung from nowhere you know.

In victimhood I emerge as predator, the one who kills the living to eat dead anima foo foo
Do you have to use those words to trigger responses of being all too human, y'all do tend to
Bongs bond us between heaven above & hell below where we all gotta go, played it all out
Had it all in the bag of unknowns multiplied times an e-thing cubed in a twisted round about.

Purple pundits and green, gargantuan plants over 10 feet tall, my buds deep purple angel dust
It won't hurt too long if you don't think about it, try to believe you imagined it, a wanderlust
Nobody believes anything they didn't go through themselves, skeptical 3rd eye spark of a spiff
We're all gonna die when it's Time, 'tis a BLIND leaps' faithful herd over Ma's proverbial cliff.

Where were YOU before your mother and father met in the testtube of an unholy 1st date
Place in space where the humanity is conceived and hatched from, my mama, free will fate
Without the XX the XY has no function, it exists for one reason in the universe, for hotrods
I am and you are, at some point down a coveted hobo road RR tracks, candle wax of gods.

Conviction of purple supremacy, when the cadaver has lost it's verve, well there you go now
Again and again, as if you have no recollection of chartreuse fragility, don't go on Jimmy crow
Yet again since day one in the fragility slammer, stuck mama's 208 bones in a DNA hoosegow
Nobody can be more woke than the deadhead's that run the Earth, in a NYC minute it'll blow!

by
r j j  stephan, i & #IDGAFWYT
c.  Mercredi, May 26th, 2021 Anno Domini @ 7:11 AMPST
{ Created while #Woke & pushing #WhitePrivelegeAndFragility the #GDPusherman & listenin' to @Steppenwulf #GDThePusherMan in a loop-link @ https://youtu.be/3XqyGoE2Q4Y }
FINIS
W.W.A.R.D.?