#GawkingInRetrograde #SlipSlidinAway #PainSufferingDeletePleasure #TowerOfPower2

GAWKING AT YOU IN PARADISE, YOU BLEW ME AWAY

Pretty as a picture in a rectangular frame, painted or photographed in 2D

Form of eagle/wolf DNA in a shape only a goddess could #con, perfect me

On board the train or the plane or the ship, hey I don’t give a hoot, play ball

For the duration of the parade of fools movin’ like shadows on a back wall.

Joined at the hip in an intersection’s dead end where it hits on perfect timing

Barter and trade the whole shebang for success at the finale, park your sins

Known it for all too long, no reason to let on about recollection in Sing-Sing

Prisoner for life to trade for the one taken in haste, wrong guy paid in skins.

Pouring liquid gas from a fruit picture, like Kool-Aid smilin’ on a shady pitcher

Bored apes walking & talking the smack they can’t back up, no mighty power

Forts to protect the men and the horses from the bad guys’ arrows & spears

Callin’ for your mama won’t help one twit, it’s low down but man, God hears!

Liberated the slaves’ minds from indentured servitude, bodies had red blood

It was dark everywhere without the light, all skin was clearly a sack screwed

Why genetics selected to evolve the brown, yellow, black & blue, it’s so rude

We wouldn’t do that to one person much less the entire creation of the hood.

Stolen valor right in front of your eyes, no hero ever takes credit for done deeds

Only dodgers who ran away from a mean, green machine’s grey matter synapses

Escape without getting a dot upon their ‘i’s’ just like downtown, it leads, it bleeds

Mindful of the reasoning in perception, perspective forever in momentary lapses.

Boring as apes in a loopy sequence of repetition, none know why it’s goin’ on

What it is exactly with the birth and death of living things, rooted or animated

Gold and silver for the poor & downtrodden, bills & strife for the well-off brood

Dummies as Mannequins speakin’ as all humans do, out the side of a pie hole.

Voodoo in the rules that were written in the stars by the token god savior son

Why it had to be the daughter of God yet it wasn’t, just my dad’s kid, my sister

Life living double time exceed the allotted ticks on the back of ol’ big brother

Modern or old fashioned, it’s all out of sight and out of my mind, I’m on the run.

Cool cleft in the chin, nice roman nose on the prima face, it’s full of the power

Of cell activity, multiplying the One in an infinite Space without an end of Her

Music playin’ the strings inside the cranium, fully loaded melodies & lyrics

Natural to press, push, pull or yank on the strings attached to nobody’s Dix.

I think that I thought you were thinking the same thing, that you love me too

As the first & last time the wise & the silly hooked up to cause another at one

A hybrid of RNA leftovers from the Bigger Bang of gravity’s collapse, I’m you

You’re me for a flash, then you’re not me forever, it’s all purple, black & blue.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Mardi, Janvier XXXIst, MMXXIII Anno Domini @ 1111 AMPST

{ Drafted ala @MarioLanza https://youtu.be/rRhmogBs-gU & @Pavrotti style https://youtu.be/Q8k3R8kgEUc }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?

#TuesdaysGone @AlreadyGone #HowLongGoneYouGonnaBe #MakinLoveInSlowMoShunBaby #DIG #OneHeartbeatAtATime #MASH

ROLLED WITH M.A.S.H.’S COVERED WAGONS, A CUBED CIRCLE KINK

In no uncertain terms, the conclusions are indubitable without a reasonable doubt

Of course, inferences regarding the truth or falsity of any statement are inevitable

There is nothing else to do other than pass judgement on the innocent who shuffle

Uptown or downtown gone to the high end of the court, rose up from the ash trifle.

Performing the art’s work is secondary to becoming an immortal name after death

Looking in through the out door probably won’t escalate temptations of Eve’s Stith

With your permission I’d appreciate the cooperation of your friends & family to be

One with Many, either many for The One & only one for me or salute a finite scree.

All of It is all one way or another, seriously a comedy and a tragedy simultaneously

Blond or brunette, shades of black and blue haired elder folk, can a babushka sing

It’s OK even if you’re baldly sour on shaved skin without the follicular immortality

Freedom intuition of slaves in a Time Machine, 3D chess mate queen, mate a king.

Now then, getting’ down to the eleven year young brass tacks, you’re old enough so

Here it is in a nutshell, the hull is cracked & the center’s exposed, eggs are fish roe

Boats and ships, floating, diving, flying into space, warping the zone into a matrix

Of vermin and human kinds that keep the secrets of 1 unknown in darkness’ kicks.

You’ll get yours eventually, karma will take care of that, you have no say in the Sin

It’s original, before you’re ever conceived or able to disobey laws & rules of my kin

By the products produced from the natural resources of a twirling particle of dust

Hair of the dog sheds and the soul’s canine can be found, God dog, backward rust.

Simply all too human for hominids, gorillas to the chimps, monks, men devolved

Or maybe it was always exactly like this and Charles Darwin had imagination hid

All in the fossilized history of the buried stone & bone, scratched cave wall slated

Wondering what in the world was going on then, which was their now, ape hated.

Funk enough for all of the freaks and finks who grew out of the petri dish of a god

Left the ignorant fools to rule the roost, like a vision fading into black, silly hotrod

Ugly as I turned into the Beautiful without any labor pains, a slip-sliding away too

Chance for change on the horizon, bustin’ open the casket & the urn, I ain’t no fool.

Thunder and lightning on the road or back home inside the inner sanctum’s cave

Backstreets ridin’ in my backseat and sippin’ Margaritas, slow-motion cruise Save

They got us home & tucked us in, warned us for the first & last time, obey a moose

Chief of Bull Winkle, me, myself or I, a #Goofy bum rush for the cryin’ royal blues.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Mercredi, February 1st, 2022 Anno Domini @ 1111 AMPST

{ Jammed in a strait jacket to take me away, I ain’t gonna fake it, jammed to @VanMorrison #SometimesWeCry in a loop @ https://youtu.be/LqkrGPEdt34 }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.

#sicknessOfSpandex @ParableOfParabolas #SicknessUntoLife #HealthyCorpusDillectus #BigBudsBug

parable VERTEX & DIRECTRIX high fOCUS’ latus rectum of PARABOLAS

Alternate your generator from the current to feature the wave or the slipstream

Hangin’ Ten while surfin’ on the New World’s disorder, Stewie’s whipped cream

Required for the iced yet not frozen stiff, a mouthful of that sugar & you will sigh

Miracles may or may not be in your future and you may not believe it, God’s high.

Metamorphizes your soul on ice into the leader of the chain of fools into the king

Of the mice and the all too human offspring of Adam, Eve and the lightening sting

Just an accident of being in the right place at the right time, happy face on avatars

Mean with the blue hue or a purple haze pouring from a cloud nine’s uptown bars.

Out of the military, missing in action, killed in action, prisoner of the war on peace

Punch in your own face, two or three times the normal force, at sea, lost the keys

Ship I sailed on could not be sunk by the almighty ocean, my will power made a pie

Every fruit & meat inside of a holy flower crust, pudding too, it’s my mood, oh my!

I beat myself up because nobody else can, nobody will, I am as invisible as a ghost soul

Where & when you began in concept, minimum two random minds in collision of dough

Matters not one bit that you can smash yourself harder than your moms’ or dads’ fists

Junk is the manufactured elements combined to addict the hearts & souls to evil bliss.

Brutal to be innocent and fully compliant to direct orders from ne’er-do-wells yet killed

By bats and blackjacks smackin’ all 208 bones, 100 muscles plus or minus, blood filled

Flight of the bananas from the tops of the trees to the mouths of the apes, it’s over, eh

Barren females of eventually here and gone males and any other recombinant RNA/DNA.

Thanks the gods or just One God off of this planet’s surface, most claim above & below

Welcome all of this strife and struggle to survive, learning ABC’s & critical economic low

Being poor to begin with and never likely to dig any way up and out of the dark, holy end

Heaven? Come on man! Hell? Come on man! Fear the Fear itself, Goddess’ Zen friend.

Whispered words I couldn’t hear and now can’t repeat regardless of the hopes & dreams

Remember the recollection only a moment prior to the gasp and gulp of the love’s finale

Scared yet brave enough to enter the arena of hungry lions & feral tigers of a naked king

By a stretch of the imagination, you sucked hind teat when I knocked you out in the ring.

Milling around the continents, the smoke signals disappeared before the message’s blog

Something about nothing at all that attracts the attention of the beings’ all high on a hog

Eating plants & animals to stay alive, it’s what all fauna does in every galaxy’s revolution

Atoms, photons of photosynthesis ala electron, proton & neutron in orgasmic venial sin.

Ape-men look at the chimps and other apes as simple minded, nearly all too human ilk

Not to be eaten, that monkey meat, dead muscles of the primate not OK, only 4 legged

2 legged only if a bird or anything inhumane, not so human, kinda like the evil boys’ crew

Girls raised into the women who behave as trained, as are the dogs of war, dead lead do.

High sticking is a penalty in any hockey game unless it’s unseen by the referee who blinks

Eyes wide open sometimes close a second or two for some shut-eye, that’s Time, me thinks

Nobody taught me the ABC’s in any other language, American English after the native steal

Incorporated the Franco-Anglo Atilla the Hun causes of the effects, civilized food, good deal.

Reform school for the uncooperative to discipline against the ego, kill will for your own good

Must be a problem for the low IQ supervising part of the herd, it ain’t a problem for the brood

They all are like you and your kin, don’t like the ugly or things that stink or taste like bull scat

Fun like you had when you were innocent and not able to feel guilt for tasting a Covid19 bat.

Lower underneath the synapsis where angels fear to go, I’m all in Hollywood, on a blue screen

Furnished the furniture in the 40-room mansion, from cellar to top floor in the tower of power

Luck has nothing to do with anything, all intent of the will to power, survivin’ on smoked flower

All want to nudge you deep down inside, they control that impulse, I’m inbred gods blue-green.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Lundi, Janvier XXXth, MMXXIII Anno Domini @ 711 AMPST

{ Jammin’ to @TheStylistics #YoureAGenieInDisguise on link @ https://youtu.be/gLo8tQ0vIxo }

F I N I S

 W.W.A.R.D.?