#TsunamiOfWokeness #WokeAwakeWicka #Smokey #JuniorWalker #SomeDayWellAllKnow

w o k e

 

SHE'S JUST A GIRL, ONE HOT, SMOKIN' GIRL

Probably gun-shy and feeling like an undefended fort in foreign lands

Freedom never was free since day one of civilization's use of hands

To fashion the mounds and pyramids to bury the rotten, dead of us

Our kin and our friends as well as strangers and enemy ilk, all fools.

Not their fault that their ego-centric spirits ignore eternity of fools

That we're lucky to be here and now between the headlines to skip

Original big bang came before mankind's creative evolutionary pools

I doubt what I know from the first word out of my mind's mouth lip.

It's the scoop you've received before you knew it was a secret scree

Passed down from the secrets underground, in caves & now in Space

Humanity too much for the planet's rockin' & rollin' so soon, all I drip

Not bringing your bodies and minds along for the conscious acid trip.

Nefarious humans, as they too can be, hybrid implants on a top shelf

That we all will eat them to save our own living entity, it's gods to be

No language to express the experience, all offspring fends for it's Self

In a canoe or a submarine, flowing along liquid gas, parking like a flea.

Anywhere that won't drown or crush your conscous awareness is fine

It is what it is for a reason, accident of a random matter-collision line

Blood bled downward due to gravity, missiles shoot the sun's photons

Someday, we'll all know in a future day of God, who is yo mamas' sons.

I am postive more than negative but I am neutral in a dream within one

Presence is everything, to be aware & know your position under the sun

To be or not to be is a discussion for the atomic subatomics, of a quark

Invisible abstraction descended from the grunts and groans of god work.

No credit taken, none given in effigy, all for one and one for all, that's It

All I can do is cry just like a little baby that has no idea that God is Light

What I am is what I am, what I've become is not quite on target, it's tight

But not a bull's eye required to Know The Truth, it's enigmatic bull's chit.

For the last time, for all above & below right and left wings of The Eagle

It's the empty power of the wind that lifts the emptiness into the Regal

Kings and queens were made of the same as the paupers and scumbags

Atomic, neither ethical nor immorally yours, Big Bang accident on Rags.

by

r j j  stephan, i

c. BLOVEMBER VIIth, MMXXII Anno Domini @ 911 AMPST Lundi Lundi

{ Drafted while listenin' to @ArmstrongAndGetty on @kste650AM link @ https://kste.iheart.com/ & during commercial's jammin' to @TheCars #YouAreTheGirl (yes, you are!) on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/DmFdW1JyccA }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.? 

#THOR #SugarLoafin'

CONTENTS, INGREDIENTS, MENUDO VOID { woke stones, gratefully dead kids' fool's gold }

Don't know about you but I've sweat bullets tryin' to be heaven's seer

Then when I get here I find out there's this struggle to survive a leer

Which means, everyone wants what you seem to have control over, see

Inside or outside of a dream inside of your noggin, your head woke free.

Puns aside from the serious business of staying alive, stayin' awake too

Always sleepin' with one eye open, it's because of the dogs of war boo

Leaving scraps of books and life's ups and down behind, in an upper box

Seats above the fray, where wise men & angels fear to go, on a cross.

Bursting your bubble that was never there in the first place, all psychic

Ghosts disembodied spirits of who used to be but can't let go the schtik

Pretending to be wise and immortal helps only fools' states of yellow rust

Always have what it takes to win games without rules, in gods we trust.

Beware of the dogs who bark down the gangway, as you walk by to see

King Kong on a black & white TV at Aunt Mary & Uncle Tom's cool party

My turn to itemize my deductions from the premises, it is my conclusion

Using all I got as tools to fix broken persons, places or sweet nothings.

Follow me, I'm the pied piper kind of like the old song by Crispian St P

You know the routine of the subjects, just objects of the powers to be

What buries the things that are right on to the many?  The One & only

It is not my fault, just sayin' don't stab the whisperer, only the lonely.

Fixes are in man, don't know the bookie ain't a bookie, my name's Sam

I am or maybe not in any case, what're the odds, is it ever worth a cup

Bouncing balls on screen, appearing to direct attention to the words UP

If and only if the application succeeds, you'll know what we all do, Jam.

Exposed undercover, overcoat on the underwear, so above as below goes

Features of the creatures appearing on the screen of our minds, ghosts

Think and use your mind as I do, let the music carry you above the fray

It will be there when you come back down to Earth, don't worry, I say.

Brought back before the conception's reception, the ecstasy of a touch

Blood made from a thought out of the sky, a First Moving of cosmic rock

Dirty balls of blown smithereens that know where it's all coming from it

No sign of palamino paint horses on the horizon, I'm all Wild West schit.

It's all about YOU, it's all on YOU, your life, your soul, it's your time

To be or not to be this or that profession's state of being alive on dirt

Nobody asked for conception, it happened anyway, here, I lost my shirt

It ain't what it ain't, so this probably ain't paradise but it's a rhyme.

On the crime and the punishment for being all too human, come con-man

If you do the crime then somebody taught you to be stupid, too human

Not your fault nor mine that the cause of effects has abandoned ship

We don't judge the origin of the universe, ever for any reason, no lip.

Justice is indeed a ham sandwich as it's always been from Day One, see

Always the case that everything will be swallowed in a black hole I flee

Goin' to the origin, the Singularity of invisible quarks and mother's milk

Calculus of a red or blue prophet provides a function for dead head silk.

Halls empty except for stuffed heads of foreign eggs, yet all too human

Set up for a bon fire to turn the star onto it's final, inevitable bastian

Cosmic porridge of gas, liquid, solid and some fourth dimension nonsense

No reception for the horror of afterlife's scary ghostyheads, my rants!

by

r j j  stephan, i

c.  BLOVEMBER VIth, MMXXII Anno Domini, Dimanche @ 0800 AMPST

{ Kicked out this jam, after a @SmokeyRobinson concert in #NorCal at the @HardRockHotelWheatland & this AM listenin' to @TheEscapeClub #WildWildWest in a loop link @ https://youtu.be/6vE5ewvxdfo }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

............................................................................................................................................................................................

#WildWildWest #KoolMoD2 #CASHout

SUNSET ON THE FOOL'S PACIFIC, EARTH SPINS LIKE AN IDIOT'S WOBBLING TOP

Condescending to you for your own good gods, I am being used as an usher

From the Good, the Bad & the Ugly I rose from the dead head I was under

No fault of my kin, my personal choices to merge with the universe's seeds

Of vermin and human there's an assumption of divinity, we're food it feeds.

Don't show your ignorance don't humiliate me with your stellar intellect

I used to be an idiot but mama didn't raise a fool, in my case, my grandma

Now then, let's pray and have a mass for the savior who died for Nothing

A saga worth someone else other than myself could relate in a song I sing.

It goes Do, Re, Mi, Fa, So, La, Ti, Do in major, minor, sharp or flat, I'm One

Seventh son or the first of many matters as much as molecules in the ocean

Conquering the meager travails presenting their obstacle obfuscation sins

Easy come and easy go from here on out, I know nothing, the Outs or Ins.

Received the required training to manipulate the thoughts, the calculus too

Equations of inequality merge with the cosmic dust & lose the essence Blues

Deep diving down into the thing itself that you were before conception, chit

Drip and ooze from the holy gaps that allow the elevation of the epileptic fit.

An idiot knows but I'm not that certain of this one point about theoreticals

All of the propositions are assumptions to be Truth when they're just shills

The swindlers know they're best bet is to have the best shills in the ace club

Given the need to bleed, everyone thinks it's their turn next, that's the rub.

Nobody gets out with their shirt on, they lose their tee shirts and laugh it off

As if noone notices that they just burned their cash well earned in a hot coffin

Dead to you meaning it's left in the silver mines up in the cool Sierra Nevadas

Entertained and fed like cattle giving up their inner T-bones & chimichongas.

Reduction of the size of your quantity of being down to the final atom of dust

Brings you & I to the final breath I have to blow into the world's Gold or Bust

You ain't takin' anything with you, as ants scramble for crumbs, your kin too

Final curtain falls too soon but you were warned, did you heed?  No, you fool!

by

r j j  stephan, i

c.  BLOVEMBER Vth, MMXXII Anno Domini @ 711 AMPST Samadhi

[ What happens during samadhi? dot dot dot

In samadhi, the process of concentration, the object of concentration, and the mind that is trying to concentrate or meditate all have become one. The mind is no longer focusing on the object in an objective manner. All that remains in awareness is the content, the essence, of that object. ]

{ Kickin' the jams & this little ditty while watchin' HIGHLIGHTS OF @TNF #PhildelphiaEagles WIN 29-17 vs. #HoustonTexans game Week #9 2022 link highlights @ https://youtu.be/OxC2gP9_oX4 }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?