WHATEVER FIX IS IN, HERE IT COMES... #GainOfDysfunction #FaucismGuessEXTINCTION #ThatsAmore #Wavelength #Frequency

HOLDING GOD’S HANDS OF CONS, NOBODY’S BONES ALA GRANDPAWS

 It’s a backstage pass to the vast majority of blues and bull’s scat
Whether you’re hip to the omega or not, it is where the future is at

On a point, on an angle or a line moving around in circles, ad infinitum
Miracles of the causes that cause non-existent effects from a scrotum.

Come on man, this is all powered by the artificial intelligence program
You & the rest of us all think The Scat is us, when it’s merely a spasm
Apes repeating the mocking of one another’s state of being en-cultured
You need & want the same matter & energy as any other, live or dead.

Now then, at some point we need to either assimilate bait or switch
You get no house for your home if you don’t work hard for yo’ money
As I hooked for The Man’s rebound hammers & Phillips’ screwdrivers
As I laid down dying to stay alive, living in peace, war-god dodgers.

Down a winding road to all finish lines at the bottom of a cliff’s hang
At infancy there is no question why a baby boy or girl cries bull dung
I forgot to fill up the gas tank of my dad’s ’60 Chevy back in ’69, flash
Recollection of every detail of every moment, every blinking eyelash.

Jive means you have jerk-off skills learned from the angry fools in pain
Herds of humans before & after any depression or roaring twenty sin
Apes naked use of dialectics for fun, like ma & pa, all awakened seed
At the finish line of the human race, extinction of me or species creed.

Are you actually meaning the opposite of what Me thinks is truly false
Or have you lost all semblance of being all too humane without balls
Base, basket, foot, golf or bowling balls rollin’ a One-Way Street scurf
Way down to the ground & it hurts on the hardwood just like AstroTurf.

I asked for nothing & now I got a lot of things, to guard the red Hordes
Not crimson as holy godsons’ chump screes that reach out to overflow
Purple-violet-blue either ultraviolet or infrared spectrum power chords
Freedom to think you’re funny as you blow chunks of ebony-ivory blow.
by
rjj stephan, i
c. Jeudi, March IXth, MMXXIII Anno Domini @ 911 AMPST

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?

#RIPPINriffs #SLAMMINbeats #RhythmRhyminRum #Snoop #DRE & #Devadip @CarlosSantana

HICKS ARE CUPPED INSIDE OF LOOSE LIPS, ROADKILL BACKROADS

Five will get you ten, am I right or wrong? Only if you have not reached the age of reason’s G-string
Hot cummerbunds around the world of wasted waists of grooms and the ushers of the coffin or ring Monosodium Glutamate & mononucleosis of the anonymous and the genius who began in blind faith
Full time for the holy cows, no more part-time retorts & symbolic gestures to stay on the beach bait.

Pretension and hypertension mixed in the eyes, nose & mouth, filling up the mind of the gods’ dump
For nothing but air, it’s easy to see right through it’s clear, opaque window, a dirty job, a cancer lump
Pulverize it into the dust of the cosmos, you’re as important as the end of the arm’s sequential tattoo
I got the panther on my shoulder, the anchor, the bluebirds, the bikini babe that winks at a live crew.

Boredom and a screwdriver or maybe a sledge hammer, it’s a mother’s injection of the reject sign
Hot or frozen ice, the star’s essence animates and disintegrates, piles of trials with smiles’ online
Hookin’ up at night or at daybreak after dawn like the rest of the fools and sinful wayfarers of mine
I knew your name but I forgot to call you my friend, sincere apologies lookin’ fired up to the nines.

Stacked up in the corner and piled up to the ceiling, hoarding all of the love I can get out of you
It was never for sale, I got it all for free being at the right place at the right time for leftists’ rights
Far right of the larger than life heads and tails of the animated beings, the all too humane plums
By lines of demarcation on the bigger than life Dicks we all know as fathers, brothers & godsons.

Holes are all empty of everything you know & love, all you’ll ever be able to do the impossible
Here & now, follow this origin to the bitter end, warm hut over on the sunnyside of hot as hell
I’m yellin’ all songs I never heard you sing, reading between the lines & blown brass horn air
Waiting up for you, it’s late but I know you’re comin’ home, you always do, s#it just ain’t FAIR.

My Chevy van never materialized for my delivery to the hereafter, neither did my GTO or coffin
Never drove into that tree, into that pond water, underneath the lily pads with the frogs of Sin
Monkey as I appeared to be to me in all reflections of Id, Ego & Superman dummy, it’s all karma
Paid & repaid the debts twice, for you & my fathers and brothers who smiled upon my Ma & Pa.

Shopped and unwrapped the goods, credit and debit for everyone, communista-fortunata idea
Just because y’all are conceived in a dark womb, with dictionary samples of a love to my Maria
I knew that I knew what I knew but I couldn’t prove anything at all to you or yours, academic Id
Deep within, there’s leftover darkness, light or dark, this is it, It’s all there is, westside story kid!

Guitars and congas, snares and saxophones, basses & 88’s all merge in one or two mamas high
Up above or down below headwinds, I feel her skin through my frozen bones of the black dye
Outerspace void without fission or fusion, absolute zero calculation of the cosmic estimation
Equals nothing, bald chills runnin’ up and down the spines of the Rock Nerves, a mortal’s Sin.

by
r j j stephan, i

c. Mercredi, 3-8-2023 Anno Domini @ 411 PMPST
{ Drained the lizard of this masterpiece while jammin’ to #LIVE @Santana link @ https://youtu.be/8F-wrpBnE1g #LIVE VEGAS 1-28-2023 }

F I N I S

W.W.A.R.D.?

#BustABoneRhyme #WeedWhitesWine

FOG FAKES THE DEAL, ALIVE LIVER 

Eyes are always wide opened with the blinkin’ lids both above and below the windows to the holy soul
Light and the lack of it, the Dark are the qualities of all that I know, my epistemological certainty’s blow
Where I go to get away from the conflict of the yin and yang of the divine comedy, it’s no joke on yous
Nothing funny about being made the punch line of the humorless lackey, dominant subordinated blues.

Into the prepositions with the adjectives & pronouns jump the verbs & predicated nouns too subjective
Justice itself being no more than a ham sandwich, the least a philosopher’s stone can do is be objective
Whomever is first to the fortunate of being in the right place at the right time, the ghost injects venom
To go flowing inside your veins & arterial canals from head to toe, reflecting the cause of the full moon.

Inside of a baked souffle there are souled imitations of the Thing Itself, sacred, original form, Substance
Earth, Wind & Fire move in the Void and we get this & some other mutations of the Thing, the Form Id
Minions follow the leaders until they’re dead and gone, drank all of the whiskey, ale & beer for the Kid
Moved in an egg into dreamscapes of monetarist winner-losers of Wins’, Places’ & Shows’ dirty dance.

Alright three times but not a fourth or an infinite number of repetition of that mantra, it’s a damn movie
A guy in a car, says what he says ad infinitum, hence the rest of the saga, epic or mundane, it’s all I see
This wonderful world of pills and stone filtered water with or without the H2O, now that’s a bad trip man
Miracles and nothing but causes and effects of the Time in Space you get to see, nobody dies for old me!

Skies blue or grey, I’ve found are only the way I see it, the sky is an illusion of the eyeballs’ reception
Face the music, face the facts because you have no choice unless you’re at the precipice of extinction
Hope and pray you’re not, faith in the unknown universe’s holy mercy on our inanimate ebony shape
Paid for labor, taxed for Nothing but Air, saved for what is cancelled before you use it, old Zorro’s cape.

Sword slashin’ and knife slittin’ whatever needs to be let by a cut in the Singularity, near the matrix
Freedom’s illusion works the room, death is moot when the heart’s attacked by dead & gone tricks
Long, long ago before I was ever conceived by my fathers in heaven, there was Nothing at All, gods
Dreaming in color or not, I am I the middle of the lake, fishing in a rowboat with fly & spinning rods.

Pi is the 3.14 high in the sky, it’s imaginary yet all we have, the Truth, the Justice are the Germanic silk
As worms perform all of the work, the essence of the leftovers is the gold, the silver, the mother milk
No need or want for another thing if you’ve got everything that exists, everything that exists, we must
Even everything that will be eventually won’t be at some spin of the Earth, this is It, In God Men Trust.

Nothing I have ever sensed in this life on Earth is my possession, even with a title or license, it’s a loan
Repaid upon the soul’s exit from the 208 bones you leased for this Life, that’s Life in a fast lane’s koan
Moronic behavior exhibited by the all too human intelligentsia which peruses the zoos of the kinfolk
Finale awareness of all of this, origin to ends is what happens before the lights go out for your choke.
by
rjj stephan, i
c. Mardi, March VIIth, MMXXIII Anno Domini @ 1212 PMPST
{ #KilledAWord listenin’ to @EricChurch link @ https://youtu.be/ta3r6l6HOjM }
F I N I S
W.W.A.R.D.