"IMMACULATE ACID MATRIX" #PiNK fPERFECT DNA I AIN'T

#FiddleSaws #HillbillyBones 

IMMACULATE ACID MATRIX, #P!nk fPERFECT DNA I AIN’T

by Richard Joseph Stephan·Tuesday, July 24, 2018

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For some mysterious reason, I’m here right now when that was the plan all along, #Way

A dream that lasts from the conception to the deceased soul of mating gametes of the day

One being containing the complete dimensional Void inherited from Eve and Adam One

Hurried a bit too soon, before I stocked up on the meat and potatoes, eat it all, you’re done.

Coming before I could get my drawers down but no worries, no pain, no gain, win the fights

That’s not the way to procreate the species’ specific descendants of the inheritance of a dude

None of us know the reason why you and I go tete a tete back and forth ad infinitum, it’s rude

But it’s all we have and it’s seized in a secret Occult heart full of data, insignificant data bytes.

Vision, vibration of sounds, ready to smell, taste and to what end, just for an ice cream cone

Just a pretender you are, I say that when you’re overtired and out of Time’s antimatter bone

True love provided and engaged on a case by case basis, always ready to indulge selflessly

With nobody else but me and me shadow, always with me and always with us all, endlessly.

Getting wild eyed and bushy tailed is what it takes to force the survival of the fittest life

Atoms, molecules of the elements, gas, liquid and solid, forms of matter cut by a knife

May everything that’s not nailed down evaporate and disintegrate the DNA code scoop

To be two of the same kind is a walkin’ contradiction, it can’t be true in a john b sloop.

Delete a letter, a word or a thought is easy as pie when you’re as ignorant as a top banana

What do you know, what does anybody know, nothing, that’s right, nobody knows nothing

For certain, that is indubitably true beyond a reasonable doubt, pound that way down home

Holy water blessed my head, crossed my heart, dotted my eyes, I don’t care, I’m DNActing.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. July 23, 2018 @ 10:10 PM PST

{ written while listenin’ to P!nk #F**kin' Perfect (Explicit Version) & a plethora of her #HITS CD link @ https://youtu.be/ocDlOD1Hw9k }

 W.W.A.R.D.?

"HIGHER THAN A RIVER'S BED {G}" #FakeNews NOT NOW, UNLESS YOU WANNA...

HIGHER THAN A RIVER’S BED {G}

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Monday, July 23, 2018

ggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg

Gangs’ violence and the gods get along just fine, stayin’ alive in memory, surviving solo souls

Separated from their twins at childbirth, three fourths of the living will die in dirt-full holes

If you think that it’s better that you don’t cause the end of your world nor someone else’s ego

Avoid words that express blaming and faulting of the ones that you address, respect the flow.

In the know of the ignorance of our fathers and mothers who felt the bliss of living in the pain

From the labor in fields n’ factories, consuming the affairs of mankind’s all too humane sting

You could worry as if you’ve a choice to repair the harm done, as perceived or forget about it

Save your heartbeats for the important things like breathing in and out deeply, Be a rivulet.

There is no choice for water but to move with the flow and work around obstacles to the sea

Where everything on Earth returns, eventually in one form or another, skull, bones and dust

Peculiar sightings on a screen back-light and a naked form of occult science in your fecal glee

As if there’s a reason to consume and exhume matter other than ‘just because’ dying’s a must.

Please do not insult my ego or my id and call me what I am, all too human big heads’ eyes

Communicate with the flashing lights, advancing and receding shapes in and out of dreams

Awakened from being asleep in this dream, coast west to east shinin’ lights invade my skies

Pretend that your mother and father, professors, tutors and your Self revealed, God creams.

Now, here your are again, trying to complete a mission that’s impossible, appear to disappear

Which you’ll do, whether or not there’s a heaven or a wild, punishing hell, easy as a cold beer

Away from the ground, bones buried, crushed into the stardust’s data stream of solar flares

A lot of things, in a myriad of shapes, forms, to see and touch, to smell, to taste the grey hairs.

Let the missiles fly to the remainder of Tigris and Euphrates, Mississippi and Missouri flow

Pussycats and rabid canines foam ‘cause they’re full of diseased bacteria in a viral playground

Putting DNA at the mercy of mutated RNA is the beginning, the end you’ll be, species’ extinct

Don’t close both of your eyes, you may be nuked by zealots today, It may end, eh? blink-182.

by

r j j stephan, i { “G” in header signifies: #Gnosis Gnosis }

c. July 23, 2018 AnnoDomini @ 4:44 AM PST

{ written while sleepin’ in bed with my #Muse who is attached to my #Kundalini and of course, listenin’ to blink-182 #AnotherGirlAnotherPlanet & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/hcKpfhJoeHQ }

W.W.A.R.D.?

"JOKER ON A JACK, IT’S CRUEL SCAT"

JOKER ON A JACK, IT’S CRUEL SCAT

by Richard Joseph Stephan

A little cover for my back y’all, don’t rap ‘bout me when I’m right here and now, front’s center

I know you stopped before you got on a roll, wherever y’are, where you’ve been, smoked ear

Walkin’ and hidin’ in plain sight where you can’t see me, in back, in front, on the side roads

In the twilight zone of the modality where the stoned move for the rocks and boulders of fear.

Thinkin’ about less than the things that I thought about ‘fore my zygote achieved a cold beer

Those gametes run around like crazy, like they’re stoned, drunk and ready to move over here

Pleasing Presence of gold, dirty water, from mountaintop flow to Davey Jones' Locker meat

Inside the hillbillies and the whiplash honkies who drove the Devil to his grave of solar Heat.

It’s just a thing itself and it’s all good, nobody I know fears the Evil, opposite of Live, Dead

Just a spelling of a word, it could have been different but it ain’t, backwards Live-Evil head

Bad and ugly isn’t as bad as it could’ve been if the matter didn’t coalesce into the holy Word

Stones and rocks rolled, settled in the backwoods’ creeks, down in the #Holla of a little Bird.

Out of the warm womb now young to move in Time through Space, salt and pepper with glitz

All of the muscles’ blood, cooked and boiled in the burning lightening of an atomic fusion fizz

For the sake of a chance that a Cause could show it’s face at random, natural selection loans

A voice saying nothin’ in the shed but ham bone, American stories of #TheDeadHead bones.

You had a moment and so did I, we survived past our mother and father totems, holy erected

Teased and now full of regret that messin’ around led to twenty years of #HardLabor selected

Rather than being One and all alone in daylight and night, on the sofa without regard for God

Blind faith with old 20/20 vision struggle, gave me the #HeadStart but I ran out of blood hot.

Approaching the limit at where infinity meets my conscious mind’s open end, surprise Jones

It doesn’t matter if you are crazy or sane, you’re one and the same, Unmoved Mover of stones

Orbiting, spinning, burning mass, transforming a Thing Itself into the zipper that keeps it in

Immaculate concepts, drunk here, now, we’ve bitten @Apple of Eve, All is One #Trump skin.

by

r j j stephan, i { #ThatAintWorkin’ #WeGottaMoveTheseRefrigeratorsAndColoredTVs }

c. July 22, 2018 @ 9:11 AM PST { header is my favorite sexagenarian #rockerChick, Stevie Nicks }

{ written while listenin’ to a cornucopia of randomly arranged notes on an octave scale of Do, Re, Mi on youTube JAMZ Dire Straits & #HITS link @ https://youtu.be/lAD6Obi7Cag }

W.W.A.R.D.?

"SCENES FROM AN EMPTY BOTTLE* #FoolDisclosure @FoolDisclosure

SCENES FROM AN EMPTY BOTTLE *

by Richard Joseph Stephan·Saturday, July 21, 2018

A tall and small punk all rolled into one little face from 1954 AD, just because you’re android

By a bad guy with a knife, in a dark room without a stitch of light, full power’s common sense

Comin’ inbound from the netherworld, outside somewhere in the essence between my Voids

I have no reason, no language, no thought to mend your ignorance, innocence and petulance.

To drink and eat the matter that is present, here and now, masticate the divine self, chew it

Teeth bite flesh and bone, suck blood out of hearts and sin out of souls while Earth’s in orbit

No idea why it’s goin’ around and around, history is hysteria and hysterical, yet all we got

Believe in the blind men and women who died and left dusty, old bones, God’s record spot.

Fear and loathing of who you are and what you’ve become after being cut loose from the sun

Light from the violet to the red, purple, royal blue, crimson and pink shades and hues of fun

Protecting your family and yourself from the predators left in the gangways and four corners

With the power within your hands and feet, you can mold the world around imagined fears.

Why the fire mixed with the water and entered my mainline, injected venom popped a cork

Let the genie out of the bottle with the smoke that disappears in the electromagnetic sky-park

In an empty vacuum, there you go again, nowhere to go once you’re out of here, go reverse

Back into the matter, over and over again, ad infinitum, highballs and 7-7’s, it gets worse.

When the buzz wears off of the reality and your hands and fingers protect your head’s face

Knowing that you must remain awake during battle to stay alive is the knowledge of a race

To be hit in the head by the hardest rock from the ground of this flotsam and jetsam of Sun

And then you die in pain or in your sleep before you get to be 100, in China, USA or One.

by

r j j stephan, i { *header’s cropped photo of my 4 year old #stare in 1955, #EyesWideOpen }

c. July 21, 2018 Saturday 12:22 PM PST

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{ drafted while listenin’ to JEET KUNE DO Inosanto Academy of Martial Arts video of my sensai’s (RichardKrueger) sensai, Dan Inosanto online @ https://youtu.be/Dvd3G7tO8EA ALSO BIT THIS @ https://youtu.be/qZ_xs40Rv-k }

"HOMELESS, THE BLUES & WINGS" #SmarterNotHarderUNLESS ...

HOMELESS, THE BLUES &WINGS

copyright by Richard Joseph Stephan

Friday, July 20, 2018
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What eats Nothing at all, weakened the @Herd of @Many with the essence of sweet Never

Not that you care or want to be exactly what you are, what you’ve become, what you’ll be

System of the melted, frozen snow from mountaintops, riverlets of your Mother, my father

Dead as the things #DeeBears leave in the woods, on purpose, out of the Way of you & Me.

Checking to see if it’s the case or not, whether you love this planet or even in the #Darkroom

Inside your head’s mind calculates that you’re a mortal, an animated bonebag ‘s mortal skin

Not only the case that I want to be alive forever but also I am here and now in pending doom

Periodic termination of the DNA reproduction in cycle of being and nothingness #Collusion.

Where did your Ego and personality, your being’s mind go at that #NextToTheLast breath?

Read the #Word, nobody knows, they leap to an unconditional assumption that All is well

When it is anything but well, ship of the fools we’re related to on the sea of fictional #Hehl

Space where conscious’ divinity is assumed to be Cause of Good, Evil, Birth, Life and Death.

You are and I am part of the people, places and things we call ‘Them” but the #Floyd is “Us”

Way back when Ignorance was bliss and wisdom, knowledge’s plethora of info-data omnibus

Sacred wisdom your #Mama warned you about, staying away from the rational thought dust

A birth of a #Devadip and dozens of vinyl and compac discs later, still the #Man, hum buzz.

Sweet sweep of a prime broom in Space-Time, mine moves away, I’m guiltless, I am faultless

For no reason, y’all go ahead and pick a number from One to ten and then I’ll terminate clues

Why? Just because I can, like the creator of heaven and earth can do, I will do that, guiltless

Deep, holy holes, asleep at night at an edge of darkness, Carlos Santana ‘s freeway of #Blues.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Friday, July 20, 2018 @ 7:11 AM PST

{ written while listenin’ to Carlos Santana on his #Birthday #7-21-1947 & I personally salute the #Devadip for the many hours of Time spent listening to LIVE & RECORDED versions of #PureLove! Thank you my brother from another mother! #OyeComoVa link on youTube @ https://youtu.be/VYEgCukYZbA } 

 

@CarlosSantana #Devadip

W.W.A.R.D.?

#GoodOldFeeling - @ThreeDogNight GREAT CONCERT LAST NIGHT BOYS!

W.W.A.R.D.?

#BONAROO @ZZTOP & @ACDC #SOULSTRIPPER TIME

BROKEN CONCRETE & ICED CAFE

by Richard Joseph Stephan   *   Wednesday, July 18, 2018

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If I tell you that I love you, that’s just common cents but I will call you just a friend to feel

Probably not but there’s no harm in asking, just in case you were lookin’ for such a real deal

Something to sink your teeth into, as an animal does when they really like some form of god

Sculptures of clay and granite, paintings, sketches, poems, stories, novels form this hot rod.

Stuck into the fire and burned until piping, white hot as the sun above the darkness squeeze

Flowering matrix of being, omnibus full of passengers on the way to nowhere’s empty skies

All of it moving in perpetuity to avoid stagnation and annihilation of Being itself, dying guys

Perpetual loneliness of the feeling of Oneness within the horrid and the lovely moon babies.

Picked up all of the pieces I could find scattered about the continents, set foot upon the decks

It’s just a ton of broken concrete askew in a neighborhood of sharp dressed, pregnant ducks

Putting one foot in front of the other and fighting for the rights and privileges of a monarchy

All One present descendant’s DNA coded syllo-gism of cloned DNA, a Hole, Trinity’s divinity.

Moved from restfulness itself, absorbed in the feeling, the concept, an idea out of space-time

Production of evidence that Nothing matters and if it did, who would care to drop the dime

On me or on your mother, your uncle or maybe right on top of your own head, goddaughter

Years and miles from the final departure, ashes back from the stones of this rocky saltwater.

Nobody’ll be left to dream about it, eventually when the species becomes extinct, it’s a tease

Will it be me or you, stranger not even born yet in 2018 AD, maybe 3030 AD, still gittin’ loose

Do not beam the messenger up to the UFO just yet because the message IS a concrete noose

Pussycats in a cup of jacked up white juice, you need it, I need it, iced nuts spiked, yes please.

by

r j j stephan, i { *header is the Cheshire Kat on something like H & 2O, WhiskeyVodka or just plain ole’ #BlackJack Jack Daniel's Tennessee Whiskey }

c. July 18, 2018 Mercredi @ 11:11 PM PST

{ written while listenin’ to ZZ Top LIVE Bonnaroo Music and Arts Festival back in 2013 link @ https://youtu.be/-uZinAmZtJg }

W.W.A.R.D.?

You Are My Kind

W.W.A.R.D.?

"STONES LIPS ON ROCKERS"

STONES LIPS ON ROCKERS

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Feeling rocked but not stoned and falling off of a cliff in Big Sur, I think therefore I was there

Amazing that I’ve forgotten my name, my social security number, my address, my identity

Everything swallowed and digested, recycled into the past from the future, skippin’ presents

Yours and mine, all of us, we are “The Them” our mothers and fathers warned us about, see?

No good bad guys and gals, grew up either in cities or in the country, raised by miscreants’ ilk

What is left over fodder from the Big Bang’s refuse, blown-up star particles, without purposes

A cell’s animation or multi-cell civilization’s paradise in the Void, spun homegrown, cow milk

To be you or me or not to be, that’s not the only inquiry of alien intelligence’s common sense.

The rest is the history of the universe whether a PhD physicist or blind prophet, rock hard Ra

It came from nothing we can name, we came from what we agree to call the “Thing” of God

Mainline for the brain and the mind, to think about the things, places, sheep who go LaDiDa

Maybe better that I don’t but I will give y’all seventeen cents old buddy, hop in my ole hotrod.

I came from good folks and hung around the worst neighborhood boys I could find around

Looser than you when you got a buzz-on, I fell off of the wagon and drank a tub of Jack D

All alone now just like the day before I met you, it was just the way it was, happiness’ sound

Buy me a boat, a truck to pull it and get to the Lake by the Rock, oh Folsom let me be free!

Back down, I ain’t ever gonna do it, I got my point and I know I got my own back, I am One

Whatever you say, whatever you think about this that or the other things, I do not GAS, son

I am floatin’ with the river current downstream toward the mouth, where the blue sea hums

A hundred degrees but I’m fixin’ drinks again, waitin’ to BBQ, got more ice, sippin’ 151 rums.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. July 17, 2018 Tuesday @ 9:11 AM PST

{ written while listenin’ to some @ChrisJanson #FixADrink & HITS @ https://youtu.be/-_Op0bQfMoo?list=RDmAz9iq3VFTo }

#WWARD ??????????????

" HEIGHT OF HOPE, SIR #LONGKNIFE "

 

 

HEIGHT OF HOPE, SIR #LONGKNIFE

 

by Richard Joseph Stephan·Monday, July 16, 2018 

You cannot swipe the Spirit in your ATM debit IBM machine, you have a soul for a grim one

There is no place to go any more when the promised land’s been desecrated by homo sapiens

Euro-Asian, African, South American, North American, Australia or Antarctica or my house

Everywhere above the salty sea from sandy, rocky beach coasts through deserts and oasis’ ice.

Shut up, no, keep talkin’ if you think you’ve a chance at persuading mountain dew fools, dude

To bend a knee to your Will to Power, everyone must bow their heads like you died a martyr

Burned on the stake full of burning fire, who I was became extinct, now my flesh barbecued

If the star shines on your cap or hat, your bald or hairy head, you got lucky again, gods care.

A padded foam underneath your bent knees, while waiting for your little deuce coup hotrod

Into the priests and marble tabernacles where the transubstantiation resurrected the dead 1

Every holy day, every one of the 365 spins and annual revolutions about the #FakeGasGod

Wow, paradise has been lost but nobody really GAF, nobody cares that it’s the Truth’s gun.

That will put a damper on your hopes and dreams of living after the body dies, dashed God

Empty vacuum within and without the thing itself, Being and the antithetic Nothingness sod

To be or not, isn’t an issue when nothing really matters at all, all alone is living night n’ day

Like a dream from which there’s an awakening, you’re Present, Not a thought, it is The Way.

Save the God of your soul from torture and humiliating self-deprecation, forget about it son

Pretend as if nothing has been understood and let it be as it was and always will be, sightless

No third eye or even two eyes with shades, the Wolf, The Lion and the Thunder Bear all One

Grab some lumber and nail them Cris-cross, winks, nod to God, Void for All, oh boy, godless.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. July 16, 2018 Monday @ 7:77 AM PST

{ drafted being cool, how ‘bout you? Distracted from the AM awakening of POTUS’ President Donald Trump ✅ Vladimir Putin [OFFICIAL] #chitChat with & HITS by the Official Tower of Power Band #LIVE on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/nFjHL-E0NTQ }

 

 

W.W.A.R.D.?

DRIVIN' CALIFORNIA US HWY1, SINCE YOU AXED!

DRIVIN’ CALI-US HWY 1, SINCE YOU AXED

by

Richard Joseph Stephan * July 15, 2018

First of all, it’s probably a good idea to let you know, I’m not a kid, I reincarnated, I’m fine

From the body of an ancient man who was about twenty-two, LOOSE as fishin’ reel line, son

What I do is what I’ve done and will always do, the Earth spins, wobbles, revolves, it’s a sign

You aren’t of this Earth below, beachboy, ghetto boy, follow divine regulation for civilization.

Picked and grinned since I was ‘bout three and by the time I turned into a warrior backslider

Learned how to fight and defend Love’s Constitution, don’t think I won’t, it’s a Big Surprize

Plunged over a cliff into the drink, stuck in the rocks, dead man’s curve, plumb stuck-a-phuqr

Drowned before help arrived, spirits all around couldn’t help, they were everywhere, no lies.

Sure was buzzed when I came around that last curve ‘fore I was a dead man, an idiot worries

Nothing hereafter to reconcile my all too humane faux pas that erupted with fervor, seized us

Grim reaper not as advertised, t’was fear of the living that mattered to the Void’s Cosmic Z’s

Gods don’t sleep because they are not conscious, not unconscious and have no subconscious.

Pillars and polar magnetics from friction-gravity we’ve come from gas afar from a divine thorn

You’ve got your solace in the unknown, putting an old man’s face or sitting American Indian

Natives, since y’all asked are anybody on this planet that was anywhere on Earth when born

Native is birth on the ground, in the substance of being, in a form of animal eating, data scan.

Born in mid-AM, blown into a Windy City by The Lake that used to be, animated the twoOne

To be moved from the dead stop, to become the form of two into One, lips kissed what I seal

I will do whatever it takes to survive upon the naked ape planet, hillbilly’s mind gone to Heel

Soul ain’t dead yet but I got that fate, drink and a smoke, got loose, a girl and boy, 1 & DONE!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. July 15, 2018 Sunday @ 7:11 amPST

{ drafted while jammin’ to #KidRock Smack Pie Pizza & *HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/tBWzNF_erA0 }

FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

White Trash

W.W.A.R.D.?

Last Of A Dyin' Breed

W.W.A.R.D.?

"FOOLS ON A TRAIN TO MY PLACE"

"FOOLS ON A TRAIN TO MY PLACE"

by Richard Joseph Stephan

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I woke up one day over sixty years ago and to my surprise, everyone was asleep, still are

Wool or just ignorant blind faith has become the demon-erratic way of life, liberty’s gone

Took a pill when the pain was too much to bear, sat back in my easy chair and zoned out

A twilight place in the the plasma of my Sony, linked to my Bluetooth and yours no doubt.

It’s not that complicated if you begin from a First Cause of stars n’ blue skies, my dad Sonny

Yes, the rain in the rivers from the snow on the mountain tops, on fifths or ides of September

Day my daddy died and others on planet dirt, could have been in January, May or December

Nevertheless, logic and reason flow, streaming lines of data, a new form of life, a cyberbully.

Smoking, drinking, working, paying debts, buying things and services to live like a faux king

With faux queens expecting the royal treatment or you’ll be totin’ that bale, keep on truckin’

Lay down with dogs and you’ll get the fleas, bad boys need good boys to influence the blues

Boom boom or blam blam, it’s like a nightmare or dream, depending on good or evil of me.

There’s nothing personal about this so don’t take it in a foul way, don’t #eff up scat that I say

I’m not loaded for bear and I’ve got no axe to grind, this is a mere slight of hand to go ondelay

From the get/go you knew it was all about OUR food, drink and being all too goda#n human

My own PLAYlist from Hades is no diversion from the gods’ silent chants of vermin, A men.

Places in Space to go from pole to pole and all around the equator of continental nonsense

In this time, Time has been the measure of the revolution and the recession of plasma soul

Substance of the First Cause, the Unmoved Mover is right here and right now and you got it

Deep down inside of you and I and every other thing that lives on this Dirt, something’s Up.

by

r j j stephan, I { header’s Rene Descartes & Buddha & their #TwoCents #ForWhatItsWorth }

c. July 14, 2018 Saturday @ 9:11 AM E.S.T.

{ written while listenin’ to my dominance in this hemisphere within my empty Oneness & listenin’ to WAR THE BAND hits on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/O8K8NfMLyf0 }

*Saw WAR THE BAND ‘LIVE’ last PM @ the California State Fair outside in the beautiful California July night! I must have done something really, really good in a ‘past’ life to deserve it! peace/out Richard Joseph Stephan

 W.W.A.R.D.?

"KICKS OVER SIZE #7, EMPTY TOMB!

KICKS OVER SIZE #7, EMPTY TOMB!

by

Richard Joseph Stephan  Friday, July 13, 2018

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Civilization of humanity, stuck the men, the boys, the girls who grow into the tax-you gang

Who defend Freedom, kickin’ in the barn, little feet over size #7, in a deep pocket blowhole

Took all the jobs and shoved them, the herd heard with their ears, they hear the gong bong

Filling the creator’s Void, empty pocket is impossible, it’s full of emptiness and a rubber soul.

Pumped up muscles, young and strong, energy and drive to be the best, to become the One

There’s where the Many reside, All for One and One for All, two, three or four musketeers

Grabbing the babies who are born to the unfocused, uncivilized parents or ‘parent’ is a rash

For the boss of their life, the people who reward your labor with a paper check of the cache.

Is it really an accident that the mantra isn’t generating peace and love, sharing the free-fall

I don’t think that can be proven or disproven but it’s an important point for the sake of all

You have the high hopes of the dreamers who live under a tyrant’s rule, island or province

All humanity want to be taken care of by the Big Daddy in the sky or a POTUS’ footprints.

Today may be rainy, dark or light and sunny but tonight like magic, it’ll now prestidigitate

Rolling and rocking not even felt by any of the residents upon or below the burned as#es

Leftovers from the #Fire that was the origin of the petroleum we use to combust our fate

In a deep, wet dream or just praying that there’s a Creator who cares, holes, women, ashes.

How did the ignorant, young idiot pay attention to the language long enough to feed the face

The meaning of life, maybe Monty Python and Benny Hill Funny Videos shed the ultraviolet

Disguised as the infrared wavelength, unseen yet present at all times, everywhere void, Space

Minds born to xy-zygotes, DNA’s size #0 to#7, All of It’s alone, a Divinity’s empty-mind-set.

by

r j j stephan, i { If you don’t know what the HEADER is a representation of, just forgetaboutit! You already did right? Yep, yep. Google Iwo Jima! }

DAWN IN IWO JIMA

c. July 13, #FridayTheThirteenth, 2018 AD @ 5:11 AM PST

{ consolidated the random stimuli into the inferior scat preceding this bovine excrement and all the while being entertained by Curtis Mayfield #SweetExorcist “To Be Invisible” & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/81foxlORujM }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#PowerAndNewWorldOrders

POWER AND NEW WORLD ORDERS

by Richard Joseph Stephan

 "...can't you feel the motion of the ocean?  They're wavin'..."

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Civilized and generated from the stars’ neutrons, protons and electrons, it’s gas on fire

Kept into the form of a human on the outside and billions of burning stars within It

Perfect old world and perfect new world both out of order in the chaos of mindfulness

Here and now where nothing is, that’s where I’ll be, dwelling on the hot funeral pyre.

On the natural order of the Earth’s rotation and wobble around a gas ball, spittin’ fire

Powerful accidental birth of DNA in the burned out cauldron of astral slush of beer

Perfect and permanent monolith in front of my house, keepin’ out the war dogs’ ire

Hungry to bite and kill something, dogs ferocious ready to assist woman with her, sir.

Appearance of the illusion to be the reality of your presence in this matrix of the tower

Outside the bubble with my gnostic perfection and hard liquor catapult the soul to Ra

Where the gifted and the depleted merge into One, being burned at the stake’s fire spa

Spreadin’ legs or moving the friction into the nervous system’s sex, knowledge’s power.

Eyes close once more, one last time and they won’t open up again, don’t look now, holy Ga

Pierced with swords and stakes, all of the lives I’ve lived are more than I’ve taken to my ma

Fallen off of the double-cross and crawled away because both ankles were broken up clean

On the way to the mountains, I got bushwhacked and took the stage, the Law’s order seen.

Flaws of Fate are merely a skewed point of view, an error of neglect, cathouse morticians

Some fortunate and others not so much, the fate of this man is the end of life, yours fool!

Wishing on a falling star or imploding core to expel the myth of Nothing, mathematicians

Version of an Imperative Category in a momentous realization, I’m the fire who made you.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. July 12, 2018 Thursday @ 3:33 PM PST

{ WHIPPED OUT while listenin’ to 992 arguments of The O'Jays #MightyThree #PutYourHandsTogether & HITS listenin’ to @ShipAhoy on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/AjOgxv177cs }

 #CrackTheWhip 


W.W.A.R.D.?