WE GOT THIS, JUST KIDDING! #FishinHuntinForBigGames

SOS SMOKE & DRINK, LUCKY STRIKE-OUTS & BLACKJACK SHOTS

Expand darkness, blank white in the light's white?  No 151 Rums?

I'm walkin' on a thin line waiting for the canines to bare the gums

I smell and taste like what all the rabiid dogs hate, rather eat scat

Just 'cause you thought you had power, that's what's annhilated.

As a bum or a junky or both, you are ready to die for a holy fool

Earth's One Lady who bore you down to crossroads of dead ends

Here & over there, animated or at rest, air above my knee bends

Bats have no fever but all humans have it over 100 degrees too.

Issues of a practice & theory of being and not being an arctic fox

Hu=Man as if it means something more than random atoms, son

Conceived in or out of love, gestation & birth to death, it is done

"X" heaven or hell, the dead go back, ash, star dirt is dry in a box.

You're crooked as a politician leading the sheep over a cliff edge

All dead falling on the living left over from the skyscraper's ledge

All fell down at a mile per second, felt like a short time forever so

No worries before the ends, what'll be will be, Que sera, let's go!

Higher than an box kite flying as high as the stratosphere allows

Eight miles higher than the dirty ground under our feet, it meows

Pussy's better when it's happy than when it's afraid of a cat fight

Scratching at eyes, slashing for survival without a god, gotta bite!

All gone, already where it's always been, inner sanctum of Words

Rhyme or not, irridescent and transparent, a figment of the birds

Flying or not from Dodo to Vulcher, all gotta eat, pest of the prey

Killing the hunted is a necessary condition for survival, I'm fittest.

Around the world doesn't take days, it's a macro-seconded idea

Created from the ash and bones leftover from the organs matter

Couldn't play any longer, air & light were not needed, oh mother

Just empty void of INFINITE nothingness in lOVE, enjoy it, Hi, uh.

by

r j j  stephan, i

c.  Vendredi, July XVth, MMXXII Anno DOMINI @ 711 AMPST

{ Jacked this up while listenin' to @POTUSB #phuqUP link @ https://youtu.be/mzgq70kO4Sk }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?

TERRY'S SONG - MY MAMA'S SONG

#Boss & SOME FRIENDLIES #FireAway #INCOMING

MISSILE DIPLOMACY?  SI!  FIRE AWAY!

Take aim, mid-stream, nobody wants to be woke in graves, wanna bet

Nobody likes a wet one, cold & a mess if you're not in a woke mood yet

In the china cabinet your mother loaded with valuables, you tipped it

Almost fell upon you & crushed you before you were six, back in '55!

Pusher's pull of babies climate's climaxed angel fallen to Earth, high

All confused about the nature of nukes, why will a whole world die?

One split atom theorized by a genius and made to launch at a godhead

It's above as below & you want to defend your people you annhilated.

At one time or another, being a foreigner on this cloud 9 puff of oxide

I shall not go out easy, I'll be kicking and screaming if I'm not extinct

We're not the people who devised rules for this planet's dead hot rods

We're the people who've united in states of being independent of gods.

Think about this #HotDog & #HamBurger, dead animals to eat or not

Covered up with garnishment loaded to the bottom of a tubesteak bun

Under the boardwalks, beneath the overpasses, turnpikes rollin' one

All around extinction of humanity is denied until the last robot & bot.

Mink stoles & Nike kicks to call-out the empty holes beneath a mamba

Snake wait to hiss & strike at whatever moves within reason's samba

Only you & I know that I'm not a taco but my taste is on higher ground

Unless I believe the lies told by lying liars, repeat ad infinitum sound.

Which border's the waterline for me & for you in this dire straits sock

East and West coasts of the USA in recession, recycling the depression

For the good, the bad & especially the ugly kids on the block, y'all rock

Cash in a cache as money's in the bank, as it's backed by pot leaf, son.

Sombreros & pistolas left at back doors of the house, jack's movie set

Or not to be satisfied, pleasure or pain of the suffering in painted face

Nuns, deacons and high priests have no indulgences, blessings, grace

No credit for you here & now until all gods are dead and gone in debt.

Way gone past the time in space when fish were jumpin' out of there

Crows & ravens on both my shoulders, that's how I woke it up in here

Talkin' with the lips from heavenly angels that formed the holy souls

Seven of them you can see, keep them closed, keep spirit's backflows.

by

r j j  stephan, i

c.  Jeudi, July XIV, MMXXII Anno Domini @ 711 AMPST

{ Cocked pistola in word form, #FireAway listenin' to @Chris_Stapleton  link @ https://youtu.be/ZI-aPHeUDlk }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?

H.T.F.W.I.K?

#GotItAllWrongAgain #NotThisTime #NeverAgain #WhereWouldYouBeBooH? @RareEarth @MartinaMcBride @TheRollingStones @BruceSpringsteen

PHONE & A PEN TO NUMBER YOUR DAYS, HOLD YOUR HAND

Sonny boy, you needed to listen to me before you died and went to heaven's gate

There was no reason for you to check out so early, sitting put as a duck, dated fate

Can't leave even one holy soul behind, it's one to the head & two to the heart ache

Where nobody gets out alive, double check the combo, wake up for the Gods' sake.

Pertaining to the argument deduced from the induction into the hall of DNA errors

Mutated before you knew it & committed to be conceived and now full deceived

Tapping on the metal, the wood and animal skin drums, metronome beat, indeed

Of course, it's all about the morons & idiots in the closets of bedrooms of dreamers.

The townspeople who believe in the rule of the mob are waiting for someone to die

In front of their eyes as they hang, cut off a head, topgun's down, small step for Man

Doin' mash potatoes while barefootin' down on the dance floor, movin' high and dry

#Girls know without them this whole shebang doesn't go down, they forgot about it.

I recollect this here, you or the little bitty ones left alone to a perpetual epileptic fit

As if you wouldn't dream after you went to deep sleep, act like you're woke as chit

Working for groups who devise the words for the rules to live by, I am a wake pyre

Revolution of the seasons of Earth spinnin' & wobblin' in orbit around the bonfire.

She came back for more, that day in the dark, games & fun on my banana seat's slot

Leather, pillows, blankets, what the hell was I thinkin'?  Oh, my girlfriend's so fine

OMG, a catholic boy scholar-athelete on the way to a war nobody declared, a 1969

Boom, egg we once were, we're all #Woke again, I saw what I saw, OMG holy shot!

Slick as snot on an oily rag, it's all I've got to wipe the mess up, I ain't #woke in sin

Mortal or venial, like that or an original thing in french I can't repeat, vulgar mother

Of my sisters and brothers in arms, in legs, in my own mind, I'm not sleepin' father

All night long, pretendin' to be an innocent infant, hungry kid or a Man, barefootin'.

by

r j j  stephan, i

c.  Mercredi, July XIIIth, MMXXII Anno Domini @ 1111 AMPST

{ Jammed while listenin' to @MartinaMcBride & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/o3AhjFc8AiE #CouldItBeMe?  #Disappear #HaveIGotItAllWrong? #ThugsMugsShots }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?

 

where would you be?

where would you go?

who would you know?