#BeautifulLady #CopyAMillionTimes #ReturnToSendersMothers #ChitLoadOfBlues @CarlosCastaneda #ThePowerOfSilence

 
IN A TOMB ROOM, SERVING UP BLUEBERRY DOOM

Fabulous & fantastic as it should be, my will be done as intended by my father's climax

Breathed the life from the ether into my mother's Earthly body, it's all a Holloween sex

Knitpicked out of the hypothetical yarn that capitalizes on fear of rotting in a batroom

Which won't happen most likely due to the funk of 40,000 years that sealed our doom.

Giving into the fleeting presence of being One and the same thing that cried like a baby

First gasp of air in the outer shell of your mother's bosom, a kiss & hug for the journey

Out of thin air, climax or not, conception of the egg & DNA funk, shivers down my spine

I felt that a few times and I know when it ever happens again, I pay attention, it's fine.

Not much you can do other than defend yourself from the predators, the steely dans

Whether it's behind your backs or right in front of your eyes, a swift action wins fans

Especially your kin folk, amigos & amigas from any Earthly place in Space, abracadabra

It's all about pleasing public strangers, as if there'd ever be questionable, fakin' karma.

The freaks come out at night, not in the daylight, those are the ways of the holy spirits

They come and go until the treats are gone and the tricks keep gettin' as if it's Time fits

Into the twilight choice, it's good to act in concert with an agenda of lockes dred, farout

All aware of the funk of skeleton's dark coffin of doom, a Vince Price's corpse shouout.

California has a lot of dead and buried with the pots of gold & bars of silver in the mix

Metals so heavy I can't pick up two objects at the same time, need One in a virtual box

The draw of the pistol doesn't mean anything other than you've got passed on #Netflix

Y'all gonna die, JoJo, Mimi, Connie, Karol Paula, Marie, Mary, Winnie & Deb, small pox.

In the doom shadow, you know where the light is & you can never get over there again

No such thing as wisdom to the innocent minds grown in women & men, it's so insane

On their knees or defiant to the highness of the lords and guardians of the dirty rocks

Civilization will crumble as it always does, it's a natural cycle of Earth, a fragment bin.

Where the matter has coalesced into a fat bodied mass of muddy water, wasted gas

In all the revolutions & counter revolutions, there's been no God in charge of a blast

It's a gravitational collapse of rhythm, lead and bass, swingin' to the vibe & the beat

As if there was no tomorrow, acting like this is the last day we're alive, be no defeat.

It's in the cards, aces are high, one-eyed jacks are wild, queens & kings of the clan win

Outsiders can't evolve into the essence of that substance of mankind, 98 degree skin

Wrapping the pipe around my neck or just waiting until the accidents pile up too high

Tower of Babel must fall eventually, nobody gets to get as high as the godhead, to die.

Yet that is all it would take for the ultimate verification of the fact, to die for too soon

Nothing but that, no other reason to build sky scrapers than to get to heaven to show

The core of this magnetic stone won't allow a fool to get to outerspace, above or below 

All this means that This is all There is, no need for blinded faith to fly over a blue moon.

by

 r j j  stephan, i

c.  ROCKTOBER 31st, 2021 Anno Domini, Dimanche @ 1433 hours PST

{ #KissedHolloweenKisses & drafted this for my wife, Carol's treat, waitin' for her Trick to Treat, jammin' to @IsleyBrothers #ThatLady link @https://youtu.be/nHp4Nk7fS0k }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.? 

#EmptySkies #FullBacks #RidingLikeTheWind #ThereAndGone #POOF #HappyHolloweenGrizzlyGhouls #ItAintTheThrillerOrIsIt? #YOUNGfrankenstein

 

SPOOKS' LEAVIN' CLEVELAND, SOUTHERN-COMFORT IN A WHISKEY GLASS

Gets the girl at the end of the book, ID requirement by big brothers & thumb up sisters

Faith, Hope & Charity are honorable ways to live successfully, 4 gold fingers got blisters

Crazy love of hu-men who were raised without YOUR rules that only you fake adopted

Like this all stray, scared cats, SOMETHING lasts forever, passed on from kin lyin' dead.

I waited on the people, served their mass of consumers affairs, ran the blissful errands

All of what it takes is like that whereever you fly or run, up & down, horns' buzzin' ends

Swift boats & ships up and down the thin air and wet oceanic current of a wobble spin

Gold is all that's left of the One that used to be higher than the plants & animals' skin.

Love and caring for your species and eating all of the others, packed meat's procreation

Vegetarian cookin' killer of the plants, an eater of the boiled, poached, fried & baked in

A function of the break in our sky fallin', conscious awareness is that eyes're wide open

Game without rules known to all the players, that is no game, It's a merry mortal's sin.

Fools dive in where angels not only fear to go but also hesitate to toke for a hit or miss

Not to John, Peter, Paul, Mary or Joe, Al, Jack or Jill, I'll never admit it's all gonna be OK

Alright from my point of view on or off of the turnpikes and interstates, dating infinites

Spirit & fuel for the trip is stored in imaginary Holloween, infrared, cosmic-candy lights.

You were supplied with abundant hope from your father in heaven & mother of Earth

It's stored in the place in Space where it's always been & always will be, a fired hearth

My gods are not yours and you may not even be cognizant of the concept of dead still

Yet divine is easy to put all of the ignorance of the Truth into perspective, a God's will.

On the swings and slides in the playground, having innocent fun with the predators ilk

Wanting to hunt for prey, showing that a city's the place in Space that needs cow milk

Makin' coffee lighter than it should be, a hot campfire's melted marshmellows to chew

The hot beans are clearly whispering. flights of butterflies, flowers & viral CoVid19 flu.

Home's where the heart is, mine's here with yours, I pass all love through your hot soul

Function of this calculus is a byte more than it ever had to be, silence is a golden O-ring

To be or not to be concludes being the one & only thing that matters, Matter in-control

Praying on knees for forgiveness & showing sorrow for a conscious awareness of being.

Targeted pinnacle of success being living the life left over from the garden of Eden trick

Or was it a treat that gave us the apple to eat off the tree that let knowledge's oil slick

River rockin' hills of melting snow rollin' to Seas of crossed bones, Red or Black, H2O ice

Gone country or dropped inner city, forward & never backward, be a tool, roll the dice!

Unloaded the trunk full of baggage and there's nothing but music & bright lights ahead

On the Form and the Matter, observation of a blind man who is deaf as a stoned head

Wishing, hoping and praying for the pie in the sky, not a hard way to infuse a blueberry

Good timing matches reality, tempt a backside, sins in backwoods' full moonshine tea.

by

r j j  stephan, i

c.  ROCKTOBER XXXIst, MMXXI Anno Domini , Dimanche @ 7:07 AM

{ Drafted to @Christopher_Cross #RideLikeTheWind link @  https://youtu.be/O7Xsjs0T4jI @Morgan_Wallen #NewCountry on youTube @ https://youtu.be/W3k3lfMOLdQ & #ToolsOfExtinction link @ https://youtu.be/4peygkljR0k }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

 

#TRICKSorTREATS #TwoOrTreeTimesRoundTheRosie #YoJOJO #LOADEDsputnik #AWitchesBall

Happy 18th birthday @SophiaStephan, you're 18?  God is good!  Grampa & Gramma X's & O's

HALLOWEEN FRIGHTNIGHT HOOKUPS, GADGETS & A BELL RUNG COLD

Faith is no more in nothing at all, never blind belief, no faith's leak in the Void, no bull shat

On you & I, this bewitched, Dark Star called "duhSun", full moon meow, midnight's black cat

That's about all that there is to it, all that exists in & out of the thin skin of Davy Jones' bones

Older than conception's incredible deception, the mothers' milk of invention's rock stones.

Pretension is all I have to cover up the appendectomy of the mind's eye, a far out cow rodeo

Given the hindsight of the third eye, I see Nothing clearly as the Star's thing. there's one sun

Of the rivers and streams that run rainwater down from the snowy mountains, a coker blow

Away with the influence of reality impinging on five senses, it's an ESP occult bible of a son.

Salt keeps you alive and kills you in perpetuity, you're not above the bylaws of Street's slang

The One Sun of the vast Void between things themselves, planets, moonrocks' asteroid darts

Many do the trick needed to be done by the jokers and fools who run virtual machine's parts

War & Peace in the picture only as the description of Yin and Yang, it's one's whole shebang.

Physics of being all too human is a discovery that Nothing made the things, it's personal, Fun

It's both fair and required to root the future in the fusion of the matter and energy into One

No other alternative to breathe in and out, you've got to be alive first, out of a womb's room

Wasted in paradise even though you're the most hip cat in the caboodle, bum & junky doom.

Shoot you up with a vaccine before you die, before you began to live, you'll pay a high price

There's no alternative reality you can escape to, it's in the H2O you must imbibe as if it's nice

In the gene pool, there's a clean water pool that will kill you slowly, no regrets of red crosses

Crusaders who move around to the disasters of Nature's mothers, fathers & their hot bosses.

Grounded underneath you & the dirty, rotten scoundrels buried six feet deep in purple soot

It's the Ends you get to for all the right reasons, you've no choice at all, #TikTok free, one toot

Die in a hole, burnt to ash & bone, left afloat in dead men's tea to be, wailing a wasted song

It's all a binge & there's a gigabyte left in the Unmoved Mover's Life Story, I'm already gone.

Blues and rhythm fill the ears of the monsters & being all too human, honey blooms into face

Then into massive Woodstock concerts that overwealm civilization's ability to eliminate race

You will It & the things appear out of tree equity, as if you're the one in charge, getting extinct

Hyperbolic nature aroused what it was my scree meant to be, 8 balls of woke, jacked up stink.

A metaphor is uncomparable to yellow snow that never fell but always was all-wet P-upon It

It was a relief that needed to be done by all watered animals, when it's time to go, end of skit

Lookin' for a gangway that's dark or a lighted alley between the trash can heeps, never a scat

Om is the way to form the tone that pleases nobody alive, mind in a skull or rat in a blue vat.

by

r j j  stephan, i

c.  ROCKTOBER XXXth, MMXXI Anno Domini Samedhi @ 05:00 AM

{ Punks & Junkies got a life, it's just not the one for me, drafted this out of the dead of night while listenin' to #OrdinaryAverageGuy @Joe_Walsh link @ https://youtu.be/HxM6F0gX3n0 }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?

 

 

YOU'RE IT