#DilbertCheck #RichGirl @RichGirl

A PHONY MALONEY, sabre rattle

Pawns find the easiest way to an inevitable end of its board life @Ankh checks

Knights, bishops, rooks cover the holy castle for a royal welcome, aw shucks

Down shift into the sleep mode… happy, busy, sleepy dream, hold it up Sam

Flower children & hippies of rock & beatniks of rhythm & blues bat chit slam.

Data you need to grow the plants & raise the herds & flocks of animal cookies

Limit your tick tock around the clock & replace it with the fallback plan, peace

Sue the pants off of the powers that be for allowing the whole Truth to be told

At the university & the college of Plato’s & Aristotle’s gods out of Man’s world.

Ring around the roses but please don’t plant daisies in the garden of Eden

An original sin might result without a simple man’s lion out of the cave den

No safe space on any of the seven continents, so sorry got a tongue in cheek

Morons & idiots planned this, the species extinction program of The Bleak.

Breathe in & breathe out is all you can do, you’ll know when you’re chokin’

You and the rest of the herd got away with it all, meaning & justice Teaching

Which witch or warlock has the magic to protect the species’ RNA, oh I see

It’s terrifying & a horrifying college prank, your poison drink, philosophy.

Supreme and extreme on the Timeline of a birth to bone death, stillborn soul

Astonish your test tube parents, they could not inseminate their eggs, yet I am

One’s all there is, what you are beyond dead 208 bones is a sandwich of ham

Brutal truth, follow me, lights out, that’s it, caput, it’s over Sonny, Overglow.

Perfection inside of the empty, bitter end, no sunshine, moonshine in no jug

All holy Worry imagined immediately disappears, no saving souls, less a thug

We’re all in the same boat, a dark hole, behavior excused in the end, I’ll believe

That is the Blind Faith, the antidote to certain extinction of the species, grieve!

Wonderful as everything is to many, to One who is everything, do not be Matter

Energy is just recognition that You are Not what It Is, kneel and genuflect to her

Gravity is the Grave, you’re gonna go down if you like it or not, not allowed haven

Crusade for a phony Maloney holy grail, in a finale, it’s over, curtains, at One Zen.

Bugs and what’s left post extinction of the species of hominid due to the Wars

Not meant to kill themselves, the defect was built in extinction of all but the One

Nothing but Space’s Void of Time anywhere else, no Mulligans in cosmic soup

Don’t shoot the messenger, heed the creed, a phony Maloney, a Chitown loop.

by

rjjstephan, i

c. Jeudi, III-II-MMXXIII Anno Domini @ 911 AMPST

{ Oral and anal beyond the gravity in a song about gravity, drafted in utero while jammin’ to Mayer @ https://youtu.be/7VBex8zbDRs }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?

#Birch #Boredom #Oak #Eternal #RightHereItIsRightNow

LOVED THAT GIRL, SHE LOVED ME TOO, SHE’S A GONER

You got wisdom instead in and out of beds of holy women seeking to get seminal 12 blue months
Earth’s wobble as the 3rd bit of rock from the star we call Sun and The One, without it, we’re all dead
Like a stone, a rock or a flying bag of carbon, oxygen & nitrogen Congo con job of the best & brightest
Hummin’ down freeways and turnpikes with those jettison machines, speed kills the quickest & best.

Not here to be here and then leave without a peep, without one word up from the grave digger’s spade
Monkeys, aping the the things unseen by men, pretending a UFO ain’t a known One, checking on a Fade
Atop of the blackhead or whitehead, souls set free like ships sailin’ on the deep, blue sea without rudder
No love shadows mine, it’s all chit that exists, without me, without you, without us, it’s gone, way gone.

Got bent like my mother and father, not from the east or west coasts of the USA, Dank z undercover spy
Like the winds and waters, I blew it and I wet it to get some action, like Northern lights of southern high
Bums and junkies will always be the way of the morons and idiots who don’t know the Truth about gods
They came because they could, ethically sound, morally upright, philosopher getting’ jiggy with a stone.

Bored of being on the Board and l in a retrograde slide from circling in two points of view, one Singularity
For you and I, it’s the final call the bartender shouts, #LastCall of the last detail, bury or burn, lost at sea
Demons swimmin’ around in a dream state of amnesia, unknown doom headed downtown & upriver too
Nothing is exempt & nothing is what it is, hence it is exempt from Life, Death and infinity’s dreaded crew.

Preconceived a notion & then it materialized for the minions among us, the herd moved to happy place
It ain’t my fault, I’m not accepting the credit nor the blame for the way it is, that’s just the way it all goes
When the lights of your conscious mind go out, you’ll be in the dark just like the first dark room’s womb
Dust storm and then a vacuum, between the sheets and orgasm let the wild horses loose in this tomb.

 
Where the grand parents dropped off the kids on the corner by the clowns and jokers of God
Leftover funny humans, no joke, nobody’s sorry that it happened, it just did what all gods do
Create everything and then leave the scene as if you expected to always be the ‘X’ unknown
Now, present, in the past and in the future at one and the same moment, the secret’s blown.

Punks moving the pages and shooting the guns, killing the words and the babies of humanity’s
Daze is complete now, sleeping forever and no wake up calls or strawberry alarm clock ditties
Perfectly round, triangular angles in 45 degrees of Isosceles, isotopes in the fission of infusion
Soul free, animated bones are picked clean from the BBQ, rest of my life is just a cool breeze.

Rested at rest, dissolved into the matrix of Earth, Fire & the invisible Wind effect of The Spin
It stops and it starts at the one with the Will To Power, that’s me if you didn’t wanna party on
Funk and stench of the dying life, wakes up the dead to retrieve the leftovers, nail the coffin
Moms dead and gone, dads not certain of conceived DNA code and here I am, a mortal sin.

Come on man, don’t give me the stink-eye or the minions’ middle finger sign of the high IQ’s
Higher than underground and deeper than the stratospheric ions of quarks and a gods eye blues
To die for or to live forever, choices of a fool and her junky tools of retrospection gone askew
Love the hate, metabolize it and it fuels the justice to the Word, ink of type is forever sky blue.

While you wait, you get clean and then you run with the other bulls, lookin’ for the release
Of the spunk and funk accumulated out of the finite infinity allowed to sit right next to me
Wild east, west, north and south, always moving toward the sunset, toward the sunrise hot
Burn it all up, a fireman's substance, philosophy & nature of things, zero, dot dot dot . . .

by
r j j stephan, i
c. Mardi, 2-28-2023 Anno Domini @ 0559 AMPST

Funk The Fear Itself #SometimesWeCry500times

GOT THE NERVE, TIME OUT @DILBERT IN YO’ HEAD’S SPACE

As I lie about laying in the death bed of the dead who died before me, it’s just nothing to see here
Nothing to worry about for you and yours, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers & all the Holy Names
Reason is your mind won’t make it past a final gasp of air you take out of the Ether’s 6 pack of beer
Hops and barley ground and leaked from a Chinese laboratory or eating of swine & rats & reindeer.

Chopped into the tiny subatomic and invisible to the human eye, not the microscope or telescope
Distortion is not the way to be happy for the rest of your life, on the other hand just smoke dope
Choice of freedom or indentured servitude, ask any boy or girl, any man or woman, any ol’ body
Even though the strong survive a conflict, Nothing alive lives forever, ain’t no soul of immortality.

What there is may be everything you sense, eyes, ears, mouth, nose and the misery associated
On top or at the bottom of the pile of scat leftover by the powers that be in tombs of the dead
Everything between the two extremes will atrophy and in a matter of epochs will show and tell
Gold & silver spoons’ old money, inherited by the first to come, Soy-lent Green is all the people.

Monkeys and the people who appear related but apparent heirs to the Big Bang original sin
Given a last chance to be good and not evil, somebody chose to make a new rule, a law of kin
You know the definition of self-defense so you must follow that one certainty or else, caput
If you don’t live then the world as you know it will not exist any further, no output or input.

 
Robots ain’t humanity, get over the mortality sooner than later, all good for the goose & gander
Park your Tesla car in Harvard’s backyard and fly your Leer jets into Monterey or way up yonder
Peer pressure is the least unimportant and most effective pressure other than the fear of death
Threats of loved ones works which ones you love and which ones you don’t know, take a breath.

There is a common ground, below or above the plane of the planet, inner or outer Space’ reaper
Grim not so much but the Ends of Everything, now that’s really Something, timing is everything
Sins are wonderful from the point of view of dead men & women who had to play with our mind
Talking big sisters, little brothers, matricidal and patricidal tide of fighting to death, Truth to find.

Sensitive kind or as hard as brass nickels in a cash register, every thin g melds in a menudo finale
Blackness blocks out the light of Truth, black is the absence of light, ultraviolet to infrared Big Sur
Simply more complex than any ability I’ve gleaned from seven decades, Life is a girl called Corazon
Santana played the music that moved the 208 bones to and fro, head back & forth, aye, aye amour.

Too much to see & not enough remembered of what was seen as the present, now just the past
Wrinkles and creases in the recollections, filled in lines blanks with the best BS to be all my best
Onto the fourth dimensional chess game with rules made up as you move, mutate each strategy
On a checkmate, I’ll have to hit the road, I’ll have to go, No Mas, mi amigo, losers for a peso, see?

As it has always been before you & I arrived to perish the preconceptions and high-brow talkin’
Like you’re the Marx brothers, Groucho, Harpo, Karlo, Zeppo, Gummo & Chico, hey, who is @Karlo
Oh that marks the spot where the comedy turns into the narrative of those with no grasp of humor
Not that everything is ph’qqn’ hilarious, but you’ve got to admit, life is a series of all good smokin’.

Punches are all about the Timing, the Timing is everything, pause or continue my blokes’ gangs
Always dreamin of sharin’ the days and nights with the love I cannot live without, sung songs
Of rhythm and the blues that follow the rules of the road, the facts of life and the lucky draws
Not much we have to do with the outcome, it’s directed from the, Nothing as the crow caws.

In the deep pool, at the bottom where nothing can see nor be seen by the swallowing goldfish
Monkeys and the four-legged things and X=forms of the menagerie all coalesce a dinner dish
Peak just below the end of the lines where the brave men feared to go, ALL was much too high
A climb would cause a tumble and deadly fall to the ground of being, all jealousy that I can fly.

Late show as hard to come into view as the past 24 hours you’ve already purged, mind shrunk
Into the things without mass, the energy angels of the good and the wicked jokers of the funk
Created from a thought, an idea just a phantasm of the light in the pure darkness of the Fight
Impersonal black is black, I want my baby back, like the song we heard, Remember the Night.

by
r j j stephan, i

c. Lundi, February XXVIIth, MMXXIII Anno Domini #HappyBirthdayDaddio 2-27-1927 – infinity
{ Jammed this out listenin’ to #MARIA by #BWStevenson link @ https://youtu.be/mAQlg2qSR2w }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?