#WhatWouldAynRandDo #WWARD #LoveMyBaby #ImHerLittleLoverBoy #Happy2019Yall

20/20 DIRIGIBLE’S HINDSIGHT

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, January 2, 2019

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

Forks in the road is where we come to in the end, comedy or tragedy, One returns back home

Not to the town or the country, the city or the territory but to the Origin of our soul genome

In or on the land and sea or in stealth mode through the ether’s gas bubble of air, deep Hole

Inside our outside of it is everything else other than you and I, It is in Jersey, in #Freehold.

Compared to the #ACME, your grocery and department store pale in comparison, oh #Deli

I smell salami and ham sliced to perfection, fresh bread out the oven, over river from #Philli

Utter distraction with parables and recollections of a young child’s mind, to be alone, skipper

Now that I’m all over it and done with altar boys from Valhalla, I’m just Hades’ philosopher.

It can and must be 2019 A.D. since everything is the same as it was yesterday, trouble is hers

That to be or not to be is NOT just a question out of a hundred, it’s the only one that matters

If the essence of wisdom is to know the nature of being and to act, move with direct intention

Then I consumed that essence the moment my mother decided to NOT abort my zygotic sin.

Performing in my own act on my own stage for the seven decades, I cry to return ignorance

To the creator of the Void, the creator of your momentary experience of Earth independence

In the funk of your recollection, categories of the form and matter of atomic neutrino quarks

Coming, going, sinking, swimming in Cosmic stew goddess and full of #Dead’s ripple sparks.

Punks from the inner cities broken homes, fatherless children’s skin and bones animate dust

From simple minds, repetition bred the followers, dependents of the welfare state’s disgust

You and I will discover the Truth in the end, bitter or welcome, it’s going to come to hide out

In shoes, boots, sandals or moccasins, row your boat, dreaming now? My intent, #NoDoubt !

There is no question that you and I speak to a hard piece of metal that replaces wasted faces

Ones you used to speak with and look at, now it’s a flat-screen or just sounds from no places

For the sake of the ancestors, recollect the reason why you’re here, #FullMonty accidentally

Get ready for the emptiness and force of gravity to take your bones down, burn, #dillyDilly!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Mercredi 2 janvier 2019 après J. -C. 9 h 11, heure normale du Pacifique (HNP)

{ drafted while kickin’ through a bog of fueled intensity that you’ll never know & listenin’ to #BigSmo & Upchurch 2019 link @ https://youtu.be/nzDTFYwV7MY }

W.W.A.R.D. ?

@TheTemptations #Papa Was A Rolling Stone 1972 Single Version

#POLICE & @HomelessWhiteKnights !

by Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, January 1, 2019

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

It is the time and the place in space to put the pedal to the metal, hammer down Mex-Texas

Or Iowa or Ohio, it redux of the rerun for the minions’ predilection for the Perfect, infectious

Bringin’ home the bacon to get the home-made enchiladas in foil, cat food and a kill instinct

Empty, bombed-out structures that used-to-be hospitals, schools and churches now extinct.

Magnetic waves, infrared and cosmic stellar amusement and the trouble is you’re a pawn

On and off of the thirty-two squares of the playin’ surface of the black and the white Dawn

From the monkey man mind without a care other than food, shelter and protection of God

In the emptiness of the darkness a deal is struck with the devil inside you and me, full blood.

Down to me, down to you and down to the smoke that rises from the burning, funeral pyre

Pumped up and jammed down into the ash from which it all comes, stardust, fool for hire

I don’t care that you don’t care, yet you read on hopin’ for the catch of the day, rollin’ a rock

Funeral and burial, incineration for all two hundred eight bones, all under my thumb, phoQ!

Don’t trip just because you are more holy than I am, I was a Catholic altar-boy, 13 years, a lad

Then the Force educated me on the actual #reality behind Ma and Pa and a military bunk bed

Pink sometimes but mostly lonely and blue, just in time to listen to boogaloo, midnight’s spec

Gambler and pawn shop, dealer of the cash to burn, bet you’re right when you’re a bluff, dick!

Ramblin’ with the spirits and souls, around in circles from lucky day to sad, good day in hehl

Wind blows four or more ways, depending on the trajectory of the matter in the space, I fall

Shroomy Cow and Alice’s #Vunderland hole, I and you in gravity collapse, we’re singularity

Rambling around the block in a Hearse or a Rolls or a Volkswagen in or out of this reality.

After the last breath you gasp for, right after that moment right there, that there, this here

All of it means little or nothing, I should have been, I would have been, I could have been

Features of the creatures that look like forms made of shapes of plastic, pig iron and steel

Compared to this thing itself you see, alternative reality has nothing to do with human zeal!

Downhearted and drained of the tiny bit or two of microscopic particles, angry atoms I am

Changed now and I am in total control with the will of the One at the helm, Lord helped me

Which Lord you wonder? For you my friend, to find out and I’ve got no say in the guy’s scam

Just remember, it’s a choice, your choice, you can be wise or foolish, a heavenly body #Slam!

Lonely and finished with the wonder of the surviving with the fittest amongst us, we survived

We never became the food of the carnivores, the bone-yards have our remains, our soul freed

From desire and need of the breaths you and I are takin’ right now, in and out, borrowed Time

It’s almost out the moment it becomes conscious of itself, a matter, a force of cosmic slime.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. 1-1-2019 Mardi @ 7h11 Hors de contrôle

{ drafted while #CatchinAWave to The Rolling Stones #OutOfControl & #HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/MHlxGg0QIqE }

W.W.A.R.D.?

@RonnieWood @JonnyLang @BuddyGuy #PlayAllNightLong with #Friends

#POLICE & @HomelessWhiteKnights !

by 

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, January 1, 2019  

********************

It is the time and the place in space to put the pedal to the metal, hammer down Mex-Texas

Or Iowa or Ohio, it redux of the rerun for the minions’ predilection for the Perfect, infectious

Bringin’ home the bacon to get the home-made enchiladas in foil, cat food and a kill instinct

Empty, bombed-out structures that used-to-be hospitals, schools and churches now extinct.

Magnetic waves, infrared and cosmic stellar amusement and the trouble is you’re a pawn

On and off of the thirty-two squares of the playin’ surface of the black and the white Dawn

From the monkey man mind without a care other than food, shelter and protection of God

In the emptiness of the darkness a deal is struck with the devil inside you and me, full blood.

Down to me, down to you and down to the smoke that rises from the burning, funeral pyre

Pumped up and jammed down into the ash from which it all comes, stardust, fool for hire

I don’t care that you don’t care, yet you read on hopin’ for the catch of the day, rollin’ a rock

Funeral and burial, incineration for all two hundred eight bones, all under my thumb, phoQ!

Don’t trip just because you are more holy than I am, I was a Catholic altar-boy, 13 years, a lad

Then the Force educated me on the actual #reality behind Ma and Pa and a military bunk bed

Pink sometimes but mostly lonely and blue, just in time to listen to boogaloo, midnight’s spec

Gambler and pawn shop, dealer of the cash to burn, bet you’re right when you’re a bluff, dick!

Ramblin’ with the spirits and souls, around in circles from lucky day to sad, good day in hehl

Wind blows four or more ways, depending on the trajectory of the matter in the space, I fall

Shroomy Cow and Alice’s #Vunderland hole, I and you in gravity collapse, we’re singularity

Rambling around the block in a Hearse or a Rolls or a Volkswagen in or out of this reality.

After the last breath you gasp for, right after that moment right there, that there, this here

All of it means little or nothing, I should have been, I would have been, I could have been

Features of the creatures that look like forms made of shapes of plastic, pig iron and steel

Compared to this thing itself you see, alternative reality has nothing to do with human zeal!

Downhearted and drained of the tiny bit or two of microscopic particles, angry atoms I am

Changed now and I am in total control with the will of the One at the helm, Lord helped me

Which Lord you wonder? For you my friend, to find out and I’ve got no say in the guy’s scam

Just remember, it’s a choice, your choice, you can be wise or foolish, a heavenly body #Slam!

Lonely and finished with the wonder of the surviving with the fittest amongst us, we survived

We never became the food of the carnivores, the bone-yards have our remains, our soul freed

From desire and need of the breath you and are takin’ right now, in and out, borrowed Time

It’s almost out the moment it becomes conscious of itself, a matter, a force of cosmic slime.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. 1-1-2019 Mardi @ 7h11 Hors de contrôle

{ drafted while #CatchinAWave to The Rolling Stones #OutOfControl & #HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/MHlxGg0QIqE }

W.W.A.R.D.?