CITY OF BAD SMELLS, WHERE I COME FROM @ChiTown right where the @Iriquois used to fly with the @Algonquins, @LakeMichigan

WHERE I COME FROM 

by 

 Richard Joseph Stephan  ·  Thursday, October 18, 2018

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How many times I’ve been around the entire solar system’s galaxy, dead and gone black holes

I’ve forgotten all of the past times except this here one right in front of my blinded man roles

Sun of my origin, old man I came from before my “Daddy” guy taught me how to git rowdy

Outside of the gravity and the core of the dirt n’ stone, spinning, wobbling, orbiting nobody.

She knew she couldn’t change me once I was created to be alone without a friend/mate date

Sittin’ in white sand by the end of the beach, watchin’ waves roll in and out of the wind’s fate

I forgot why I came and it didn’t matter where I was gonna go tomorrow, like this, it is done

Need, desire, want to be alive forever, no matter what, immortal good or evil, All of it for One.

Move, animate yourself with the consummation of the matter, metabolize Light’s locomotion

Bullet holes in my leather vest, shot in the back by all of the little girls I thought were perfect

Dream mother of my children who were not yet to be here and now, moving toward fire, son

Daughters jackin’ their jaws ‘bout the meanin’ of why I do what I do, when it is already done.

Complete and utter malfunction of the genome, the DNA alleles spell the doom of acid’s love

Dogs like Ones we feed, your own and mine, luck of the draw with God’s rock and stone bone

Blue light cherries flashin’ in my rear-view mirrors, pedal to the metal to the end of One O 1

Oxygen ran out, overwhelmed by the hydrogen, nitrogen and the wasteland, you better run!

by

r j j stephan, i { #LayYourBlanketOnTheGround #BoyzRoundHere #Rednecks }

c. ROCKTOBER 18, 2018 JEUDI @ 8:88 A.M. PST

{ jammed this one out of NOWHERE listenin’ to Blake Shelton #BoysRoundHere & HITS on youTube LINK @ https://youtu.be/JXAgv665J14 }
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FINIS

W.W.A.R.D.?

#NightengaleWingedAngels #NativeFlutes & #RockGuitars #SacredDrums

WHITE & BLACK IN A GREY AREA

by

richard joseph stephan * wednesday, rocktober 17, 2018

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Whatever it takes to be or not to be will be done, step the lead-off first base, a stealing kind

That you and I are fortunate to have had a microsecond of the millennia, a sacrificed behind

Even though we didn’t know the innocence nor the flutist call for consummation of old calves

All of the runs to get home with more runs and win the game of innings, quarters and halves.

White bear from Chicago, groomed near the lake by packin’ Cheese and Hoosiers deadheads

Hippies sixties, beatniks’ fifties, sent me to cold wars, slept in Plato and Karl Marx waterbeds

I protest the protest of the protesters, if that makes sense, if it doesn’t then I still protest, son

Give it some thought, use logic and reason then divorce rationality, you’re a GD phqn moron.

It’s just begun but the ending was easy to see before the lights came on in the darkness’ glow

Bringing a song and a dance over to the party of One, I see nothing but myself here and now

Possible that there’s a high probability that life will turn out fine, I’ll die and nobody will cry

Nobody’s concerned if nothing exists in reality, when you die your life dies, boom, so just die.

The long, tall tale of the chosen ones and the descendants of the original men and women lied

Fear of the unknown, fear of the death of your loved ones and neighbors was the hated stench

A smell of rotten blood and meat, uncooked, sunburned but in the heated fire’s tongue french

Excitement about the trip from ignorance to enlightenment, in check until ecstasy, let’s ride!

Pulling the sand together with the random words and sounds from the holy wood, windblown

Spells and sounds formed into the potion to demand the intent to be realized, Nothing’s sewn

Yet stitches and scars remain, it keeps a gaping hole uptight, out of sight of holy sycophants

Creative force without a form, without substance, Nothing in Full, demigods? Not a chance!

by

r j j stephan, i { not a psycho-sycophant, no pining at this age, an anomaly, it’s my dream! }

c. ROCKTOBER 17, 2081 A.D. @ 5:55 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to #ShamansCall from #AThousandRoads by R. Carlos Nakai & my soul recollections on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/ey5v268s7ZA }

YOU KNOW...IT'S ALL 'BOUT THIS...W.W.A.R.D.? #CloudNineOverHere

#Bonzai @ricoSacto #ricoSacto #OnBeingBlogged

EVERMORE ALONE, EVER AN EGO 

by

RICHARD JOSEPH STEPHAN · TUESDAY, OCTOBER 16, 2018

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Carrying on the variety, charming ends of a beach, out into the deep, free will of my I-Sins

We go from the future to the present and on to the inevitable finale of the play on the #Ends

Words being important for nothing more than writing in darkness on cave walls by shewolves

Or this and that place in space, this or that time living life as Earth rotates, counter-revolves.

Looking at the nature of the beasts left here in front of our sensory perception, they eat meat

We’re meat on bones, not the children of God or the sons, daughters’ of man, raw flesh of Ra

Talkin’ God or Yahweh or Krishna or Buddha or Zeus, I could care less about the name sheet

Same old tune, hummin’ ‘tween the human ears in your towers of Babel, po’ scat of yo’ mama.

You may or may not interpret the words in the meaning intended by the author, l’il ol’ me

That piece of flesh and bone, unintended consequence of painful first intercourse, oh mama

Over and over again, pregnant due to human rhythm of a holy man, a Catholic, hella papa

Invented from the ruins of buried books and hidden rock tablets of emerald n’ black gold.

So, go girl, as they say in urbanic ghettos of appalling DNA sprawl, suburbanite misanthrope

Political overthrow, random riots on asphalt, steel and concrete sidewalks crack, long walks

On the television or the audacious #ConscienceOfTheNation, an Eagle, bald, still just a dope

Diving for the salmon, talons lockin’ on to the steelhead’s face of shock, no sound, no talks.

Ears, nose, lips and mind in synchronized duplicity, #Fakeness for reals, unconsciously puny

That most souls who lurk in the emptiness outside of the Earth’s ebb and flow, on the money

A difficult decision had to be made during an accidental extinction of the species, it’s gloom

Holy vortex, hammer down, honeymoon’s over with Thor & Thor Hammers are aloft, doom!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. #ROCKTOBER16TwoThousandEighteen #Mardi @ 10:00 AM PST

{ penned listenin’ to the mighty Armstrong & Getty on Talk 650 KSTE 600-1000 AM PST }

NB. https://www.iheart.com/live/talk-650-229/?pname=kste-am&campid=play_bar&cid=%2Ffeatured%2Farmstrong-and-getty%2F

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

#WWARD