THE KID, DESPAIR, COPS & QUARKS
If there is more than what is already here and now, I’ll take it, not that ennui has set in but
When you’re just zoomin’ up and down turnpikes’ and freeways’ and state roads’ holy rut
Unless you inherited the nest egg of the family fortune, you better get ready to sweat it out
You’ve no choice, it’s the nature of the beast, to be here and now but not before or after It.
On the mothers who hold quark eggs of the genome within their holy confines, a womb room
Where I come from, where you came from and anybody that’s not here yet will come from, eh
Not only am I divulging the magical Truth regarding the origin of your universe, It is all of It
There’s nothing more nor less than you, I and the space our atoms conglomerate within, chit.
Compared to the alternative which is utter dissolution of the ego, the self, the sense of being I
Is all we need to get by, that and a companion to share the mystery of being nowhere in Space
Watching the illusory moments move from past to present to future, everything is everything
Nothing is but the lack of it All, conceptual analysis to die for? I think not, ‘Let’s Pray, Sing!’
A leader of the pack has arisen from dusty dirt of Northern America’s land mass, a harbinger
Realization that the star we call, the Sun is sunny but is dimming, every spin around danger
Burning up into ash is the only path to follow, sit down, be quiet, STFU forever and forever!
Still, there’s hope and faith in the love for the Liberty given by birth in the USA, for #TheKid
Watching open borders flood with diseased refugees with nothing but a stamp free-food fight
Poorman’s blind faith in divinity is the tool of DNA code for the extinction of species, DNAcid
Indeed, all in a #BigPicture, the creator’s back, detach the U-chord, End’s a zone of twilight!
You think you can stop the germs from invading the genome? You cannot, it’s corpus delicti
I personally wish that living on Earth was living forever but it’s not, that’s Blind Faith for you
A group of three boys playing music like there’s no tomorrow and for all there was One high
From the peace pipe smoked leaves and the inhaled grains of ground leaves, a wingless fly.
It’s the best thing available to the poor, to the rich, the good, the bad and the ugly, it’s Time
Where things happen for a reason or not, at random or not, but happen they do, in a Space
Utter despair, a sound way if you get off of the straight, narrow path of nose to the grindstone
I am strings of bass’ rhythm and blues to a backbeat of thin skin, oh, you got that right, son!
by
r j j stephan, i
c. SAMEDI, FREEZEMBER 21ST, 2019 A.D. @ 4:44 AM PST
{ Digital, red writing is on the ceiling, it’s 4:44 and you’re time is up! Drafted this while listenin’ to Joe Satriani Joe Satriani Universe #TheForgotten & #ROCKshards on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/2rsdZHcRM9c }
FINIS
W.W.A.R.D.?
