#ricoSacto

Saturday, November 10, 2018

#MetDownOnTheBorderRioGrande #EatinSaltyPeanutsOutTheCan #OutlawsHadUsPinnedUsDown #CiscoCameInBlasting #ricoSacto @ricoSacto

 SHE GAVE IT T’ME, O’ER MY #787 *

Richard Joseph Stephan · Saturday, November 10, 2018
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It was in a New York Minute, yeah the NYC moment in time, big apple’s piece of mys-pace
Rode the buses and drove the cars and bikes to and fro, then suddenly, it’s all in your face
Into thin air, gone before I knew it, I had nothin’ but a ROAR noise, lies of what it all was
I’ve forgotten most of what it used to be yesterday, it’s all just an ever-incarnated kill-buzz.

The feet that you and I allow to walk all over us when it’s time to pick on a #Mark, use ‘em up
Truth or lies, how many people are in jail and prison are innocent of the crime of being a pup
Here and now in this present Time in this particular place in Space, watchin’ a ton of sunsets
One more, maybe none, who knows, wrong numbers might’ve been momentary mortal debts.

So, get ready, get set and go, lean to the left, lean to the right, stand up and sit down to fight
Without rocks, sticks or stones, hand to hand, foot to mouth combat until one sees the night
A challenge and a challenger requires a superstition that there’s a reason to be top dog DNA
To spread the genes far and wide, harems of infant incubators to mend the original sin, GA.

Daydreams now and nightmares in the unconscious mix the beliefs with the facts, yielding O
Big zero to cancel the things spelled and written on cave walls and on undersea volcanic flow
Frozen in the middle of nowhere, think twitchin’ and itchin’ outer-spaced, as below, so above
Don’t stop thinkin’ about it, do not waver, don’t think about your pain or pleasure or the love.

Center of your mama’s bull’s eye, when you were the end of the umbilical lifeline, a dot-speck
Knives won’t cut, bullets can’t shoot, fire don’t burn, angels’ wings unto me, all hands on deck
Martyrs for the cause and blank effect of having blind faith in a divinity’s penthouse top-floor
God knows, it’s consternation of a light-speed flight, flyin’ a #787 on LSD, First Cause w#ore?

Gonna bang the best of fatherless children, roam the cities’ courts and fields, all wet dreams
With or without the ethics, the morality of the Golden Rule of reciprocation, Do Unto Others
Rule of Karma known to orphans and queens, from the age of reason unto thy death, buzzers
Other than known facts, you’ll die like others before and after us, coughing Karmic screams.

by
r j j stephan, i { *header’s a brand new @Boeing787 that I will buy some day with CASH! }
c. BLOWVEMBER TEN, 2018 AD @ 10:10 AM PST
<3 br="">
 W.W.A.R.D.?

Friday, November 09, 2018

#LovingYouWhetherItsGoodOrBad #OnFire @ricoSacto #ricoSacto

BROKEN IN TWO, I’M A SCATBACK

 by
Richard Joseph Stephan · Friday, November 9, 2018
---------------------------------------------------
But wait, there is a will and that means there is a way, a low and high road to the finish line
Whether you go kickin’ and screamin’ isn’t important, what it is? You’re gonna need a blow
It ain’t my fault that all of the things that are right here and now are the way they are, so fine
Glad to be here even for a NYC minute, to rock steady here and now for a bit of the ho-show.

You and I have a history now but it will be defunct in a hundred years, ask your GG gramps
Don’t worry babies, y’all from birth to ninety-nine, you’ve been a grand prize, been champs
Y’all got out of the womb in time before miscarriage and abortion, raw meat for the bulldogs
Road down the middle of of the parade’s double yellow lines, stay straight up, writin’ blogs.

Freeways lettin’ us do eighty in the express lanes, right down the center side, concrete walls
Doin’ the speed limit, cruising and ridin’ high on the turnpike in the pink cadillac with balls
Pops and grandpa state troopers won’t get dragged in when I tell Smokey that I’m a banshee
All the way to the place I’m goin’ just because I’m a simple minded sone, they just cry to me.

So, now I give the highest tribute to ones who serve and protect us all, some more than others
Giving Time’s Space and Peace a blood sacrifice on the funeral pyres of sisters and brothers
Magic language, sounds of the whirlin’ planet wobblin’ on the axis, in the matrix, as you were
At ease or attention, it’s the obedience you payback for the honor to survive hominid culture.

Underneath the swami’s turbin, a skull protecting the perks of mankind, insufficiently rancid
To be alive on spinnin’ ground where idiots evolved, did a dirty dog, The Occult’s WWI skit
Soldiers looked like two hundred eight bones surrounding sperm and eggs, pay for the Fall
No sign of any life after your own death, poke a bear, idiot, the sanskrit scrall’s on the wall.

by
r j j stephan, i
c. BLOWVEMBER 9, 2018 @ 2:22 PM PST
{ drafted while listenin’ to a load Soulmusic Aretha Franklin #SeeSaw (Your love is like...up, down, all around...) link @ https://youtu.be/QVlSdY6N7Dk }
 
W.W.A.R.D.?

Thursday, November 08, 2018

#TimeAndSpaceIllusionsDreamsMyths #ricoSacto @ricoSacto

WHAT’S MY STORY, DEAD FISH #151

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, November 8, 2018
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When you had found yourself swimmin’ with the fishes, it was a bit too late, breathe it all in
It’s all about the fun baby, beating hearts in this form of animated flesh, a skinny, blue boner
Regardless of tall tales told, mythological salve, Truth distortion of anthropmorphic jinn
Live, continuous coverage of the paramecia and amoeba swimmin’ in the wake’s uncool air.

Cocky, absolutely sure scuttlebutt like magic writing on the wall, more scat, let’s all be fair
Perfectly fine from one to nine, ad infinitum, such as we are, a WTF Supreme Being’s error
One of the mortal or venial or possibly an original malfunction, a freak of natural sharkskin
Godhead hid in a Marxist dreary, proletariat gobbledygook, rock poundin’ sand in Pei-king.

A freak show on the stage in front of all the blind men who cannot see the light all night long
This will not be easy but it won’t be complicated either, just wait until the #EndOfDays bong
Fire it up and listen to the music rock and roll down the mountain’s flow of volcanic ashtrays
Dreams of boys and girls dashed in geography and history classes, attention to #Ends daze.

Group of morons and idiots over here in front of your eyes, your dreams’ve become such fun
To become what should have never been yet the present is what it is, exploded aster debris
Ground pounded the water leakin’ out of the blue watermelon vine, 100 % Grade A and #1
Watch this my friends, go fishing at the lake or down by the river, even middle of the ocean.

A flowered, silver dream makes golden smiles in me, something the folks gave me, #Liberty
It came from out of nowhere, like a shooting star in the middle of the pitch, black night of ‘G’
Faded DNA solution of electrons and neutrinos of the #BigBangSpawn, inbred one, god-Sun
A joker’s quantum broken heart’s all alone, no spades, clubs or diamonds, drinkin’ #151Rum.

by
r j j stephan, i { #MightBeALittleDustOnTheBottle #SweeterWithTime <3 a="" amp="" booze="" class="_58cn" d="" data-ft="{"type":104,"tn":"*N"}" dear="" europe="" grandpas="" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/finewine?source=note" my="" of="" target="_blank" wine="" your="">#FineWine
#SmoothMash #AngelsWings }
c. BLOWVEMBER 8TH, 2018 AD @ 11:11 AM PST
{ #WORD squeezed out of #Lemons given the #Occult nature of the origin of being, while listenin’ to Jo Dee Messina #HeadsCarolinaTailsCalifornia & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/78rdaVuzRSE }
<3 p="">
W.W.A.R.D.?

Tuesday, November 06, 2018

#LetUsRoll @ricoSacto #ricoSacto @KidRock @GretchenWilson



MY SWEET ICE TEA, HONEYBABY
Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, November 6, 2018
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Eyes of sweet honeybees’ dark trash excellence aflowin’ two hundred eight bones, my godson
Wanted to be immortally mortal but that contradiction in existence could never come to be
Neither are you alive nor dead, in #Limbo just like every other living thing, oh anointed One
Retreat from the battle of eating or being eaten, burned or buried on a hill or in the blue sea.

Aw heck, red necks and wine, all but certain that the ultraviolet and infrared waves all dig me
Nine lives of the cat ain’t nothin’ but a legend, I am on my nineteenth still, waitin’ for twenty
Ice code of my ponies of Bud is pour it down the hatch, in this order, 1, 2, 3, nothin’ but fancy
Don’t say nothin’ once I’m fadin’ into a back wood of my foggy bottom bog, rockin’ ain’t free.

Horses in the carriage or under the hood only gets you to the end a bit quicker, wrinkled face
Around a track or treadmill, around and around, step by step, we’re a GD groggy human race
Rocks and Stars both below and above the pontoon or off of the shores and banks of the pond
It makes little difference to the dead men and their hands in my pockets, law’s order my son!

All we did was show our faces out of the holy darkness of our Origin, mamas’ inner sanctums
A condition of logic and reason that you arrive right here and now, up and down Sonny’s suns
I and only if you look like a loving reproduction of the mothers’ fathers, all natural selections
From the whole set in the domain, the party ends when I say so, diameter, radii and my sins.

Ultimate radio show on dead air, the last day you get to play here and now, smoke ‘em dead
All of the unheard philosophy, dusted words, phraseology all misleading, a jacked-up thread
You and I really don’t care, scared, it doesn’t really matter, there’s nowhere else to live it alive
Hombres guzzle Grapo and Tequila-lime Space’s Time drunk, I took the 5th, now I just drive.

Not driving a car or a truck, no bus or train, no airplane nor jet, mere model of skin and bone
From zygote to ancient scent of #BadSmells, like the city you were spawned from, corn pone
There were the priests and nuns, the prowlers and molesters at large, busy and side streets
Catholics and atheists mixed up into a huge spore of pre-star fodder, not ready Earthen Sun.

When the time is right, when nobody sees it coming, the forest fires will ignite the Hydrogen
Blue sky for your eyes only were only in the presence of the past, out of time without a future
Where I was and where you were just before conception and gestation, that is the question!
It ain’t my fault like William Shakespeare suggested it to be, eh? Blame it on FrancisBacon!

by
r j j stephan, i
c. BLOWVEMBER SIXTH, 2018 TUESDAY @ 11:11 AM PST
{ drafted while listenin’ to the The Osborne Brothers & other fodder you will like Blake Shelton etal on youTube links @ https://youtu.be/E5RDEXpc8OY?list=RDJXAgv665J14 & https://youtu.be/kkoT1nZOexY?list=RDJXAgv665J14 }


W.W.A.R.D.?

Monday, November 05, 2018

#BottomOfTheShaft @ElonMusk @ricoSacto #ricoSacto #philosophia

 
@MaxWeinberg #MaxWeinberg

SOME #WIPEOUT NEWS FOR YOU
 
Richard Joseph Stephan  ·  Monday, November 5, 2018
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Just in case you forgot or never knew in the first place, you have a lease here and it’s up
You never have to worry about which way is up though, it’s the other way of falling down
I still have thirty-two teeth and in impeccable wardrobe, ask any haberdasher, he’ll stop
Just to comment on the nature of this picayune beast of burden, I saw a lot, a lion robot.

Utter nuisance to think for yourself, yet you must, praying to your creator will not reverse it
Species that avoids extinction rises to the top of the food chain, they do not eat one another
Top Dog species is in a safe place as long as the Earth spins or wobbles on it’s axial revolution
In orbit around a burning lump of burning gas, a star called our Sun, the immortal One son.

Pink and purple in a circle of origins and destinations, where and when we are, here and now
Snakes in the field of my nightmares and daydreams, I invented the slither and hiss to blow
From the origin of the first light in the darkness, first blink hammered the nail on the head
A crying baby’s a threat to world peace, Earth’s a burned-out star of dirt and rocks and US!

This is ALL THERE IS, no heaven in space or outside of this Presence, this Present time, now
Tomorrow or yesterday’ll NEVER exist to anyone on this planet, that’s a whirling Windmill
After the baby’s schooled and merged into the genome, it begins it’s entry into a Hades’ haze
To discover that Ground of Being is an energy depleted, oil and gas burned out star as well!

Looky here now, we will either agree to disagree or become lost ‘ants’ with no god-compass
Whether you are a bug without a name or a human being, an orphan with no self guardians
Corpses continue their entry into the hands of the Void between the black, blind spots of y’all
Nothing is further from the Truth of the nature of reality itself than my own consciousness.

You have NO SOCIAL SECURITY, when the population decreases, you’re left with a whore
Therefore, the non-participating realm are too uninformed about the reformation to fix it
War and battlefield death will decrease the young population as well, they will not need SS
To fix social security, #ThisMeansWar, war IS the answer to #Everything, All HAIL #Thor.

by
r j j stephan,i
c. BLOWVEMBER FIFTH, 2018 A.D.
{ draft prepared by #Scratch in a dream downloaded to the #MuseOMine while I typed on the Kboard to the fine jams of my #BrotherFromAnotherMother Carlos Santana on youTube link @ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0EW80BwB9mQ }

W.W.A.R.D.?

Sunday, November 04, 2018

#GodAndGuns #1776 @Freedom #DontLetThemTakeEm @ricoSacto #philosophia #ricoSacto


CONSCIOUSNESS' HO, WON’T SWALLOW

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, November 4, 2018
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Carnivore bites you and tastes your blood, it’ll crunch your bones, y’all kiss canine boldface
Dead maybe not but eaten you’d be, therefore better take pains to arm well, leather and lace
War’s arrows, bows, pistols, rifles, knives, swords or whichever tool it takes to finish the job
Selfie defense of your own and your family’s, throttle what you got, eliminate things you rob.

So, employ the unemployed or give the no-count riff-Raff free money and food-stamp doors
To make sure they got cold beer, whiskey and all of the skunk they can puff, punks n’ wimps
Participating tribal rituals makin’ it skin tight, out of sight, boys n’ girls down, neon pimps
Nothing personal, shotguns at one with being alone doesn’t mix in tribes of eleven to fours.

Wasn’t anybody holding you down like when you were thirteen and bein’ beaten by a pillow
From an empty, black hole with nothing to show it filled up with the refuse of the gods’ glow
Sun and stars above and below this mile we walk alone, sometimes good or evil, always Bad
All night rambling between my tiny ears, each side of the computing matter, orphans all glad.

Your mother’s father doesn’t matter, everybody gets grandfathered in, even ET’s from Venus
Women from Mars and angels from Saturn, Uranus and Neptune, gins, kings, queens, gods
You ain’t listenin’ to the Word or the Meaning or you’d launch, not your rockets but your life
On the way to the eternal mocking of the black and white shinin’ blowholes on matrices dots.

Jumped out of your clothes the moment I asked you if you needed your back scratched, yep
That’s exactly how the food needs to be, undressed and raw as the moment it got boned up
From naught but an egg, sperm, rusty love or at least lust, created gender-dead meat chops
Turned out to be alive and not dead, just unspoken and unbroken, opened wide legs and lips.

Way down from First Taste past two lips, way down to a kaput finale, flushed God’s holy fight
Boredom edge over the ennui and moved the gods to battle over the ways and means, Power
Shine on stars from the blackness, millions of years apart, find ‘It’ down at the speed o’ Light
Hundred, eighty six thousand miles a second, R, W & B rollin’ stones, I’m God’s Father. Man!

by
r j j stephan, i { DO NOT GIVE UP & RUN! DON’T LET TAKE OUR GOD & GUNS! }
c. BLOWVEMBER 4, 2018 @ 5:55 AM PST
{ drafted while eatin’ a Georgia Peach in the darkness, under starlit skies of NorCalUltras
kicked to the ground in a mighty Void, #chickens on the side! listenin’ to Lynyrd Skynyrd
#GodAndGuns flowin’ through my circulatory system, #CominBackForMore link for the
PEACEMAKERS in the dresser drawers @ https://youtu.be/Gwd46EvhYw4 }

W.W.A.R.D. ??

#TheLeveeHasBroken @BrothersOsborne @LedZeppelin @ricoSacto #ricoSacto

CONSCIOUS’ HO, WON’T SWALLOW

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, November 4, 2018
-------------------------------------------------
Carnivore bites you and tastes your blood, it’ll crunch your bones, y’all kiss canine boldface
Dead maybe not but eaten you’d be, therefore better take pains to arm well, leather and lace
War’s arrows, bows, pistols, rifles, knives, swords or whichever tool it takes to finish the job
Selfie defense of your own and your family’s, throttle what you got, eliminate things you rob.

So, employ the unemployed or give the no-count riff-Raff free money and food-stamp doors
To make sure they got cold beer, whiskey and all of the skunk they can puff, punks n’ wimps
Participating tribal rituals makin’ it skin tight, out of sight, boys n’ girls down, neon pimps
Nothing personal, shotguns at one with being alone doesn’t mix in tribes of eleven to fours.

Wasn’t anybody holding you down like when you were thirteen and bein’ beaten by a pillow
From an empty, black hole with nothing to show it filled up with the refuse of the gods’ glow
Sun and stars above and below this mile we walk alone, sometimes good or evil, always Bad
All night rambling between my tiny ears, each side of the computing matter, orphans all glad.

Your mother’s father doesn’t matter, everybody gets grandfathered in, even ET’s from Venus
Women from Mars and angels from Saturn, Uranus and Neptune, gins, kings, queens, gods
You ain’t listenin’ to the Word or the Meaning or you’d launch, not your rockets but your life
On the way to the eternal mocking of the black and white shinin’ blowholes on matrices dots.

Jumped out of your clothes the moment I asked you if you needed your back scratched, yep
That’s exactly how the food needs to be, undressed and raw as the moment it got boned up
From naught but an egg, sperm, rusty love or at least lust, created gender-dead meat chops
Turned out to be alive and not dead, just unspoken and unbroken, opened wide legs and lips.

Way down from First Taste past two lips, way down to a kaput finale, flushed God’s holy fight
Boredom edge over the ennui and moved the gods to battle over the ways and means, Power
Shine on stars from the blackness, millions of years apart, find ‘It’ down at the speed o’ Light
Hundred, eighty six thousand miles a second, R, W & B rollin’ stones, I’m God’s Father. Man!

by
r j j stephan, i { DO NOT GIVE UP & RUN! DON’T LET TAKE OUR GOD & GUNS! }
c. BLOWVEMBER 4, 2018 @ 5:55 AM PST
{ drafted while eatin’ a Georgia Peach in the darkness, under starlit skies of NorCalUltras
kicked to the ground in a mighty Void, #chickens on the side! listenin’ to Lynyrd Skynyrd
#GodAndGuns flowin’ through my circulatory system, #CominBackForMore link for the
PEACEMAKERS in the dresser drawers @ https://youtu.be/Gwd46EvhYw4}
W.W.A.R.D.?

Thursday, November 01, 2018

#Hashtag #Meatballs @ricoSacto #ricoSacto @Philosophia








RED MARS, DEEPURPLE NEPTUNE

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, November 1, 2018
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In a winter wonderland in the middle of nowhere known to man or woman, hot fire starts
Smoke is there too, always together one by one and two by two, forever identical pharaohs
I ate all of the goblins and their candy last night and I’ve burned off all of the sugar sweet
Without the freezing cold anywhere in or out of sight, it’s all a matter of movin’ my feet.

Dreamed while wide awake, gifted from posterity or my mother and father, suckled hind teat
Giving in to the benefits of inheritance and grand larceny, a transitory experience is all of it
Cork’s out of the wine bottle, cap’s off of the whiskey, poptop’s blown off the beer cans, sons
Corporate and private, pretending it’s not transitory, forcing blind faith upon the wise ones.

My life and love have gone dark in the pitch black of night, Neptune’s purple and Mars’ red
Whether you lived and died already, still alive or not yet to have become the DNA zygoted
It really doesn’t matter at all if you recollect the memory that the divine spark carries me
From pilgrim thanks and on back to the birth of the crucified One and Krishna and Buddha.

Seams and creases right up the middle from the origin’s destination and problematic position
Argument for a rational approach to celebrating mythological lore for the love of goddess’ son
In the dawn of the origin where the train started on the RR tracks from o’er there to o’er here
Shook my bones and my soul froze solid, time’s drunken saint, Santa’s addicted to my beer.

Fun for Red Mars’ girls who don’t become the nuns and boys’ deep purple extinction code
Winning awards for monsters in love, coming began going, broken records’ forming mode
Siddhartha and Socrates reason and rhyme ‘bout a millimeter thin, now weep, ACDC guitar
I’m all One, without deception or remorse, feelin’ the burn undersea, Uriah Heap to Qatar.

by
r j j stephan, i
c. BLOWVEMBER ONE, 20 ONE-EIGHT A.D. @ 9:11 PM PST
{ drafted while jammin’ with The Black Crowes #HardToHandle & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/2CE6bgj-hx4?list=PLdoJjJ9cLqRxFdjG_C9KCwebgLcOzut9C & @JoeSatriani & @G3 youTube link @  https://youtu.be/zDfy67my2So }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#WhoAreYou #IAmTheEnemy @ricoSacto #ricoSacto



BULGER’S TONGUE, SAYS NO MORE
Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, November 1, 2018
 
Pour the warm water over the cold and dead head, recollecting ice cream cones and hot rods
You are a free rocking bone sack and that’s the way it has to be, devolved from invisible gods
Nothin’ controversial in your bone dome, synapses’ bobbers up n’ down, pounded brain-dead
Ignition of the gas and inflaming the deep pond of idiots, morons and terrorists, all offended.

Your mother and father left you out in the cold before or after their deaths, a poor baby alone
Joined the Union’s League of distinguished, naked boys swimming in a pool at a club of stone
Elder men of Chicago, New York, Miami, Seattle, L.A., Natives extinction reserves of America
Let the females, sisters, daughters and wives be the mothers of natural birth, All is of my Ma.

Before my conception I did’t care, I was not alive, I did not exist as I will not when I’m dead
To the front of the past recollection, avoid the final conceptual analysis of matter’s of being
Why you are alive, what is this life all about, frontal lobe, a divine privilege to be punished
For the ancestral heritage of disobeying signals of One creator, a Being of and for Nothing.

Suicidal murder of the qualified living things we eat and excrete, that’s all in Man’s control
It’s the maniacal and brain dead you will fall so far down the rabbit hole, you’ll lose it all
Everything you experienced and all you can remember will be forgotten, just a N.Y. minute
Down south of the border, Eagles are squawking, line is drawn, spy Trojan Horse, Halts!

When the radio DJ’s want to defend the W  hitey: United States of America v. James J. Bulger
They may all meet the identical fate of a #FrenchKiss with a dull shank, a pick stickin’ razor
It’s not for me to say or know the reasons why people fear threatening attorneys-at-outlaw
Evolution of the primate into your daughter’s date gives an unnatural selection of God’s flaw.

Question everything, have blind faith in nothing humanoid, lust for solace and be super slick
With the fifty emails a day to clog up your inbox, I will increase that too, I don’t give a lick
It will make you feel as if someone is listenin’ to your commanding requests, download Adam
Earthbound imagination here in my bloody battle’s war, blessed, gods’ all favor the damned.

You and Whitey and everyone else will swim with the fishes, land-sharks sent Whitey to hell
As you tweak the two lips of blasphemy and rat out your brothers, strokin’ your pants of dung
Key is to make connections, no need to swim with fish or be the fruit of nuts or tune of a song
Ancient scrolls of World Series’ bytes, tired records pitchin’ crazy screwballs, tongue is held!

by
r j j stephan, i
c. BLOWVEMBER 1, 2018 AD @ 1:11 PM PST
{ drafted listenin’ to the The Rolling Stones #LetItBleed & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/PwRg_Cqhs6U?list=RDPwRg_Cqhs6U

W.W.A.R.D.?

Wednesday, October 31, 2018

#WitchesHallow #NeverForget #LastBreathWillCome @ricoSacto #ricoSacto

 

DON’T LIE TO ME BUT IF YOU MUST
by
Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, October 31, 2018
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Make sure it’s worth the risk of losing the love of your life when you take on the assignment
If you choose to accept it, you will be well compensated without worry for fame heaven sent
Chances are slim and none this isn’t just a nightmare, dream within a dream, without weight
It doesn’t matter a bit if you honor the ethics of civilization or that you deduce a Gomer‘s fate.

Hockey puck flyin’ past the blue line for an icing call, so the defense turns to an offensive role
Reverse skating and on defense going backward at the netted target, screening the goal hole
Style and grace on blades of steel, on a wooden stick of backup pine to slap shots, high stick
Checkin’ the bodies up against the count of the command, all’s well and counting down quick.

There’s feathers on the ground but more still on the Eagle flyin’ above to the nest, high or low
On a peak of a mountain, Big Mouth open wide like a gaping Mariana Trench rockin’ below
In some kind of a stranglehold on the culture’s voice, a muffler stops the signals to choke it
Air to breathe and gas to burn, gravity to churn, make the world turn, fly around, oval orbit.

You will, they will, we all will do what e’er needs to be done before we die, including nothing
To know that there is nothing that anyone can do about anything, is to know the truth well
Without compromise, from the thing itself, the matter, cell by cell of the body and soul ring
DNA and RNA blocks to form the matter, to shape and force it’s being to become, all #Hell.

by
r j j stephan, i
c. Mercredi, ROCKTOBER 31, 2018 @ 10:10 PM PST
{ DRAFTED while jammin’ to Stevie Nicks #EdgeOfSeventeen concert #LiveInChicago on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/S3DhXcQepbY }

W.W.A.R.D.?

BONA VENTURA------- & a Happy #WitchsHollow to y'all! ------------->>>>>>>>>> @ricoSacto #ricoSacto

COME TO STARS’ & SAINTS’ HALOS

by
Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, October 31, 2018
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If not for the evolution of the orgasm, just like the lemmings jump, mammals would vanish
What I’m referring to is Nature’s evolution would never allow survival of any shadow’s dish
If not for the cosmic soup left over from the Big Bang’s solar system, creative internet stream
From Nothing we all became what we are, what you see’s what you get, our holyhell scream.

My town and your ciudad in the middle of nowhere or deep in a hood’s magnificent OMG
I do not exaggerate when I say that One could not make this up, it must be an accident I see
Complete and utter fear of the shadows that move in the day and the night, irrational scare
Get jacked up on the sugar and monosodium glute, fascinated by all of the girls’ long hair.

It’s much more and much less at the same time, in spades, play cards or roll snake eyes’ die
Anything to win the jackpot that is the jackass’s gold down the road, invested blue soul’s ice
Pawned it all to get the return of it all, now with nothing left after the last bet came up dry
It’s purple or red at one extreme of the spectrum, Spirit devours the prism’s light, high price.

In a dark place where the stars never sparkle, the sun never shines, there is Nothing living
No bodies and no souls, no spirits in the night, from my lips to God’s ears’ good old waxing
I am not in jail, I am not in a full lockdown, high security place free from the shanking dag
Killed none, blamed for a spree on fifteen or twenty, innocent of the guilt, a murdered jag.

From the tip of the Earth’s mountain snowcaps to the bottom of the Mariana Trench’s matrix
Everything’s everything and that appears to be an inescapable fact of life, as is you got my six
From the virus to the dinosaurs, spiders, snakes and Homo Erectus, we’ve come into this One
Hide under your bed, FUN to be these Homo Sapiens on a #Holloween dead moon, BOO son!

When you die, you’re dead and I’m really not a Jehova perpetrator of Truth or Lies of sheet
Being in me is exactly like the being in you, consume my flesh and bone, get you in the mood
Without the power, Corpus Christ to die and there is no spirit or soul to boot, so die real good
Revolutions won’t be televised but UFO’s left monster signs, we’re all Holloween sweet meat.

by
r j j stephan, i
c. Mercredi, ROCKTOBER 31, 2018 @ 7:11 AM PST

W.W.A.R.D.?

Tuesday, October 30, 2018

#WitchesHallow #HappinessIsFlyingInARollsRoyce


I THINK THAT’S MY DAD! WHAT IT IS?
Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, October 30, 2018
sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
That man right there, he really does look like my dad, a bit tricky to treat you on Halloweens
Dark eyes a little bit different but the rest is exactly like him, as the wind does, we just blow
I was about two months old the day he died, he was about twenty, reduced to smithereens
Compared to this present day, he would have been the #BlackPanther or the #WhiteShadow.

With a fix on your life and limb, you are the last man and last woman in the solar system
Make the Earth your home and propagate the seeds to make life grow and thrive, civilize
In concert with the origin of species which you are, keep that the occult mystery of flies
Maggots and spaghetti who thrive on the refuse and recycling of the wasted fuel’s orgasm.

Cleaned of the wrong-minded conclusions which follow from invalid premises’ deductions
Back to the origin of species when wonder about the matter and hunger, why such a pout?
Mortal or venial and possibly original, garden of Eden type of hereditary, witches potions
Compared to normal, as above so below, during a storm there’s turmoil within and without.

On the day when the souls of the faithfully departed who’ve rested in peace, quake the yard
Graves’ piles of muddy, rocky dirt begin to wave like the ocean surf does with tide inbound
Out of Mother Earth, living corpses rise because the undertaker hid bones in shallow ground
Inner peace in your neighbor’s hood, heart and soul, I’m all, criminally sane, praise the lord.

It is thrilling to say the least when you get scared and you know it’s pretend, as opposed to
Reality animates the body, bones, the emotion and until the heart ceases to raise an eyebrow
When it’s dead and gone, it deteriorates and festers into a subject, buried, creepy ghosts too
Backdoor slammed behind me but it opened up again, enter this monster of August ‘51 stew.

by
r j j stephan, i
c. MARDI, ROCKTOBER 30, 2018 @ 3:33 PM PST
{ drafted while listenin’ to Michael Jackson strut-slam-boogie on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/rmCA3qQkqso }

W.W.A.R.D.?