#ricoSacto

Saturday, December 22, 2018

#3 days until Jesus Christ was born 2,018 years ago... #LeapOfFaith #DreamBIG #BoogieWoogieChooChooTrain

SPANKY’S JOINT, ROLLIN’ MY DNA!
Richard Joseph Stephan·Saturday, December 22, 2018
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Young skin n’ bone strippers, pink Cadillac T-tops dropped, swingin’ chassis, I am, Adam.
Ones who never got the message, survival isn’t all there is, it is everything, cosmic stew
Everything in the hodge podge of dirt and rocks, the DNA moves and I laugh on a dime
Jokes and funny scat everywhere you look, the people, the animals, the space and time.

Peering through the peep holes in the fence, knowin’ it’s never time to get to the peon door
Nobody is allowed in until the final curtain draws to a close, awaiting an infinity’s corn pone
Back streets or the freeway exercise of the iron horse race, we roll on until the tires all blow
Rubber on the road, pedal to the metal and we’re flyin’ baby, what’s in back of us is way gone.

Cruisin’ in and out of the heavy traffic, on the shoulder and cuttin’ off the older ladies & kids
Old man gettin’ out in front of the crowd, shinin’ the crown above the monkeys wanna steal
Because they can’t figure out the sum of two plus two, it always mutates into high five bids
Visions and hallucinations of this substance, this #WhatItIs cannot be a mystery congealed.

Happy for a day and night, unhappy about the death of breath, world wobblin’ in smokin’ Fog
I am cruisin’ but runnin’ low on fuel, the rock and roll is about to cease, voided my gas’ tank
Still movin’ until the end of the perpetual locomotion in a pink Cadillac or 1500 cc @HD hog
Leather pants hooked up high n’ tight, hop on back my baby, we’re chitin’ on the blunt dank!

Fortunate daughters creatin’ the cheat-cheats for the baby boys, the sons of single fathers
Jumped on in the front seat, I got shotgun and you got the pedals so steer us to a promise
Who left that absurdity behind? Work a nine to five until you get to the other side’s ditz
Traffic in back of us, we dropped the pedal to the metal and we’re already in the olive pits.

Homegrown from the seed to the flower-tops, life grown and illegal to the weakest man’s sex
Higher than kites, blowin’ in cold or hot gas, revolutionary wobble my grandpa’s Fireman hex
Planet here in the middle of nowhere, space is black and dotted, obfuscated holy God’s dam
Young skin n’ bone strippers, pink Cadillacs rollin’ on DNA of swingin’ Pete, 7th son of Adam.

by
r j j stephan, i
c. FREEZEMBER 22, 2018 SATURDAY 12/22/2018 @ 11:11 AM PST
{ drafted while watchin’ #NationalLampoonsChristmasVacationMovie ‘89 link @https://youtu.be/cqggUo2kA3E & listenin’ to #TRAIN #WontYouSaveMeSanFrancisco & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/o4MKaH7d8OQ }

 
W.W.A.R.D.?

#RockMeMama #TruckerOutOfPhilly #OnTheWayToTheGoldenStateOfBeing @ricoSacto #ricoSacto

A PUNCH IN YOUR BLOODY MOUTH
Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, December 20, 2018
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I always said that the only way to fly was to go with the blood flow, let us come, let’s all bawl
Around the bases for the scores, runs ahead and runs behind the hands tied at a sunrise mall
Foreclosure on the caves that shelter your full cups of love, lust and glory, salute living dead
Heads and feet and all two hundred cross bones, up and down, all on the way to be corn fed.

Somebody’s lunch or supper in the future, in the stars for the living to be eaten, hear ‘em jerk
If Evil doesn’t walk then it doesn’t have legs and if that’s the case, Evil don’t need homework
Being a thought away from actual reality and First cause of it’s natural being, cut jagged edge
For the first and last time, the spark turns into a million points of light and ignites tune-age.

Rubber blood runnin’ through the veins and fillin’ the head with elastic notions of phantasms
Things or not things but a natural presence, je ne sais quoi or whatever, it’s givin’ me spasms
Trying to stay within invisible lines of space itself, fait accompli, all too human, crazy mind
Walking, crawling, hopping, running and flying, human animals live and then quit the grind.

Twenty four hour days, seven day weeks, three hundred days a year, golden gods whisper
Winds cry Mary or whatever sounds like a girl or lady’s name, nobody plays a cry wolf pawn
Listenin’ to the medium with headphones attached and cupped over the ears, be the executor
Don’t need another man to kill you or even natural extinction to end it, you’re already gone.

Ignition from the star’s blown gasket, uncontained effulgence of blue stuff, third stone’s ilk
Cells of the unknown cosmic, black holes posing as white dwarves and Earth mother’s milk
On a date and all ready to reproduce the species maggots, up all night until the light of day
Girlfriend stood up and laid ‘em down and I knocked ‘em down like jello shots in a MaiTai.

I feel no pain and you will never know mine, you are the reason that the things are all gone
When you woke up from the dream you saw the one who was dreaming, One and overdone
Not me but another One, asleep for no good reason, an accident of form, king, queen or pawn
Cause of the First Cause is not even a thought, not an idea, nothing but air, old Betsy’s spawn.

Completely gone from the Alpha to the Omega of the galaxy, I struggle in liquid rock salt
Dreamin’ of the waves that bring in the wake, just because you think you’re not at fault
Doesn’t mean that there is no crack in the world, there is a big, black hole up a lazy river
Pain comes first and then the numb overruns the bones, shuts down, full of foo faux-fear.

by
r j j stephan, i
c. FREEZEMBER 20, 2018 A.D. @ 5:55 PM PST
{ drafted while jammin’ to Ramones #MerryChristmasIDontWannaFightTonight & #HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/4Y5GtaTrPHM }

Wednesday, December 19, 2018

#WhoIsMerry? Question is, #WhereIsMary? #MeTwo #MeOne1Too


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WHERE’S MARY NOW? AP-BITTEN*
Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, December 19, 2018
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When the never-never land allows #Facebook #Bing #Yahoo and BOOM, my world’s #bytes
Data in sequence to allow the nature of reality to bleed through holy cracks, itsy-bitsy dots
See outside and inside are One and the same things, life and death souls are also the same
You can get everything you need and all of what you want the moment you lose the flame.

Imaginary idiots becoming who you’ve always been and always will be, ALIVE at 0600 AM
Without a stitch of infection within the holy holes of the two hundred eight bones, body slam
Old days and old dudes are a whole lot different to this world than the elder wise female jeans
Back pockets, pocket books and pick pockets all on the bus together, ready for prison scenes.

I am in love, Zeus, an idiot, a moron and bloody god named Thor walk into a bar of hard rock
Why am I in love with the #SpiritusSanctus? There it is runnin’ my body and soul, that’s all
It is the fuel for the engine I call the transitory bones unburied so far, but on their way to hell
Underground, undersea, underarms, #UnderTheGun #ACDC Conscience of the Nation kilt.

Draped over the privacy of the species, the pletes and the creases hide the nature of the dead
High on the list of not being bitten, it is the first thing chopped and sprinkled on the #Mash
Old ladies all know the secrets of the porridge that they mix in their hearts, souls and head
Dope is not the answer although to be a dopey dwarf at the Yule Tide is OK with God’s bed.

In this void, you and I see the whole shebang clearly but we cannot accept that we’re All alone
We’re all there is, no UFO’s, nothing alive from another planet in this or other systems’ bones
Young or old you’re gonna die, like it or not, your life will metastasize into the death of cells
It is what it is, form, shape of the cells, the dot, the line, the angle, triangle and squared hell.

OK, you’re lost now, dedicate your life to staring at nothing, you’ll be where you’re going now
Stoned out of your mind and being the rock of Marconi’s listener-ship, the strong arm of Getty
Tells you in a hammerlock that you’d better obey the law or be punished by the #Law, crazy
Hard rocks and a Hard #Dump will annihilate the bio-metrics of a stooge’s bloody low blow.

It all comes out in the end, what you don’t know’ll hurt you, no warning instructions included
Hydrate, consume massive amounts of fiber to get the deadmeat, foul grain to exit a #Brexit
Final and over when the message gets all the way up to Mary’s jugulars, she’s #waygone dead
Luck’s everything, fortune or an alternative which is personal extinction is it, oh Mary, caput!

by
r j j stephan, i * { header is sister-meme hohoho..HAVE A HOLLY JOLLY CHRIST-MAS }
c. FREEZEMBER NINETEEN, TWENTY EIGHTEEN A.D. @ 6:66 AM PST
{ DRAFTED while listenin’ to the mighty drones called, Armstrong & Getty #ConscienceOfTheNation blab-noggins & listenin’ durin’ commercial breaks to WAR THE BAND on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/xtDkLI5GxwE }
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W.W.A.R.D. ?