Even on super Sunday in the springtime, you can smell the pigskin bleedin' in ice turf beneath I know what you know, it’s a finite game with an end in sight, no allowance for a sudden death Touchdown after touchdown, safety after safety, kickoff after extra points ad infinitum, it’s a go With no time left on the game clock, it’s less than a second left & the score is tied zero to zero.
Six for the touchdown, three for the field goal, two for the safety & one for the point after TD Hips get hit from the front, back & sides, above a pile & deep below the late hits ref’s whistle us Toots out of the air squeezed through a tiny whirlwind emptiness, the phase of a blown penalty High or low hits count on the quarterback and the penalty to a tackler is five, ten or fifty minus.
Regular bowl games are one hundred yards of theoretical, prolate spheroids’ critical race theory Kick the ball, throw the ball, hand-off the ball, run with and fumble the ball, it’s two for a safety Mothers died bearing the boys who played games, some lived & got a new house on the blocks Either way, we get one super Sunday every year, today’s the day, it’s on from zero to sixty rocks.
You had what it took to get to the money game, high school, through college & infinite practice Professional because paid with gold and a plethora of rewards for beating the opponent’s dice It’s a roller-coaster from September to January & then it’s on, the big Super game of man-kinder Points more than the other gets a double ‘U’ (W) less points gives you the honor, you’re a Loser.
Find out the secret and then forget about the whole thing, as if you’ve begun again from scratch Nobody knows you or cares about you, you’re an orphan without siblings, offspring or any mate You’ll go home to the heavens in a metal-wooden box, just a porcelain urn, Form of God’s farce Bottom’s up online, you’re gone & it’s like it was before conception, Dark & deep up one’s arse. by r j j stephan, i c. Dimanche, February 11th, 2024 Anno Domini @ 333 PMPST #SuperBowl2024 { Blown out of my keister this am on #SuperbowlSunday jammin’ to surprises at https://youtu.be/D2E7ahH8zts?si=SJyq8P9NgUwTACci }
As far as I ever go, ME, MYSELF & LITTLE ‘i.’ are a worrisome fraction of living Life’s Dawn One part of the whole shebang is what you’ve got under your hat, head to toe, buck, doe or fawn In reality, fantasy is one and the same as being ignorant that you’re a Cause of Everything’s holes Open your eyes then close your eyes, it’s here and suddenly it’s gone, under your total controls.
Junk in the yards or liquid death injected with the humane venom the snakes blow in the nest Parked in lot of A’s, B’s & C’s with a host of steel on 4 wheels in addition to the 2 wheel rockets Introduction to the final end of the conscious mind in accidental termination of being the best Champion of the gift, knowledge of the Truth about the reason for mankind’s existence, debts.
We owe somebody something, know who it is or not, the debt must be paid by kings or queens Whomever is here when the landlord returns to Earth for the rent on the wind and the hot fire Kept us alive, knowing how to make a fire when it’s freezing cold in the igloo and grass-hay hut Apes survived, naked or hairy, evolution allowed the most fit, healthy as bloody gods to stay put.
All of the above and none of the below can be the supreme Truth but it’s not going to fly away With your mothers, sisters, wives & their girlfriends permission, if not them, then who saves us? Men have nothing, except the doom of all the ones who have the womb to keep the wick lit up Taxes reaped descend into the bottomless pit, the gods pushed us all into the empty, gold cup.
Reaping what got stitched-in before I was ill-conceived, a notion that I’m the sewer of seeds too Cork in the bottle to keep the air out since it turns the wine into vinegar rancidness turned blue As I say that everything’s gonna be alright, it’s only because when I die, nothing will matter at all My ego, super or just regular old Id is the fact of life that my father in heaven never confessed to.
Tin cup full of silver, copper & fool’s gold getting you off to a good start, a performance of Oscar Heaven may or may not be higher or lower than the planet but either way, it’s a myth’s sick trick Perfect invisible spirit just a fleeting thought essence of abstract nonsense making sense, by far Woke or fast asleep for 24 hours every day, 6 days of working until the 1 day leftover for schtick.
Applied like sugar and salt needed for one dead plant or another animal, to disguise a megadeath Deep inside the future excretion, there’s power to glean & absorb in the blood without the Meth Speeding to death isn’t a bad way to go, it’s the only way we get to go, a hundred years in a snap Protons, neutrons and electrons making up the atoms combined into molecular formation, slap!
Right across the face, a slap applied can jog the memory & cause total recall to manifest destiny What the subject is, what the subject’s action is and it’s effect on the innocent and ignorant free Gravity pullin’ it all down to the ground, unable to be admitted to the core, six feet under rocks One granite rock-thing above ground with words that follow your full name’s judgement shocks.
Dancin’ in heaven, lowered below hell, innocent & not responsible for any body’s behavior et al It ain’t a wild thing, it’s a well adjusted patron of peace, love and happiness, just a trip to free fall As it is above it will always the same below, good that the bad & ugly are as low as you can go It would be a thriller, a spectacle of what’s out of proportion with the peace and love backflow.
Boom voids atmosphere gets pierced by a supersonic, plastic-metal flying arrow, an F-4 or X-15 Express yourself because that’s all you have to show this world, these people what you’ve seen Even if it’s nothing more than not-being like a Tibetan monk from Tibet, up near heaven’s gate Prime or tertiary in the line-up for the payoff, a trade-off for your blood, sweat & tears of fate.
High or low, inside or outside the thing itself, everywhere an atom can fizz or fuse, I am FAME Like a poker game that I can’t fold from, I have the bets, I call and raise until the losers put up Future behind dry dreams is bleak, after all is said & done this is either a black hole or a GAME You, whomever you are know what this existence on Earth means, life’s pet, a pet kitty or pup.
Goodbye to y’all, known and unknown for now, you won’t return the salute but that’s just fine Coming into the triangle, hexagram or the squared, circular sphere, full of Space’s airless sign Note cards are classified, here’s a secret I’ll share with you, they’re blank, the ink disappeared High and mighty on the lower echelon of the stairway to heaven, you will like it too, It’s weird. by r j j stephan, i c. Samedhi, February 10, 2024, Anno Domini @ 1111 AMPST
Wore no mask upon my skull’s face, neither before nor after the pandemic I emitted identical streams of spittle coughing, sneezing and expectorating The only other option was to keep the air pressure within my chest cavity Eventually allowing it out into inaudible silence, a key to a lock opens me.
I kinda liked the Beatles back in ’63 but not a lot until the bite of the Apple Shine, accelerated light speed down a Time worm hole’s Outerspace of hell Aim at the target & remain fixated on the prize, eyes & mind in syncopation Behind the predication of subjects & all objects, two plus two in mortal sin.
From ignorance, historical records fabricated for your edification & my own Not a show with no name and with no air-conditioned dirty words overblown So, I’ll make up a name out of nowhere and nothing personal will intervene Pine on fire, comply with mother nature and be cool & never dry as a bone.
Sycophantic lines grew from a point of view, One dot on the matrix of uniforms Simple mind receiving the jump charge from a crystal skull buried under worms I imagine, it’s as good as for real, the skull above your neck’s in perpetual strife Down for the count, all waking up to be #Woke or articulate the factoids of life.
Reunited with the ones who resist, turning the positive pole to the negative pole Attracting everyone who loves happiness and harmony being alive on Earth’s hole Nothing close to Earth but a dead moon, what you sense is all you’ll ever sense Nothing after the mind dies, the senses shut off & invisible soul shows its offense.
I got a pill for every ache and pain of the human body, stole the recipe from a #bot Shouldn’t be very long before we’re all immediately cremated by too humane idiots Who have blind faith in Life After Death, their fear of Nothingness is palpable as a Stith Spread from every direction imaginable, all the lower gods wonder if they’re a myth.
Union intersects two parallel lines diagonally; it means the Union is secure as a Void Fancy words merely much blowhard beeswax in and out of our bloody hemorrhoid It’s going to shake up the calmness in the quiet room, are you sleeping, brother man? Sisters were mothers, naughty by nature yet more than able to procreate species DNA.
See for miles for days with or without the microscopic telescopes, within no reason Logic using the predication to display the approximate Truth for minds of the train You never know when it’s your time to check out of life, be prepared but vigilant, son If you choose to trust everybody & everything you see & hear, the Evil will reign on.
Superman & superwoman mated & begot Adam & Eve, now then, here we all are Without superpowers to defy mother nature and reverse all laws proposed by gods No way that Earth humans will survive the onslaught of stupidity and raw ignorance Finding you are stupid after you decide to fire your weapon over the enemy’s fence.
Now you occupy prison cells in solid rock blocks of steel and stone, fired idiots on it Food for every meal as well as in between with sufficient & necessary political scat Liar telling the truth, nobody believes the Truth because the liar is a lying fabricator From above & beyond what’s underneath perfect understanding, we got the score.
Donate your cash from your exchange of your blood, sweat & tears for the gold coin Streaming like a river flowing south from the north & vice versa, who’s the heroine? She walks Earth 16-18 hours 24/7, nobody is her daddy, she’s got no offspring of Id Man is human, all men are, we’re all gonna die, today or tomorrow, killer, the Kid!
by r j j stephan, i c. Vendredi, February IXth MMXXIV Anno Domini 1200 HIGH Noon
