@MrBean #ricoSacto

IT’S A DISGUISE FOR THE UNSEEN

by

Richard Joseph Stephan * Tuesday, January 8, 2019

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Thank the powers that be, whomever and/or whatever they may be, I understand, I survive

Nothing on Earth, above or below the sun, a feeling called Fear within me, blowin’ my soul

Never will be anything to beat or eat me other than myself, even when I’m only half alive

Maybe I’ll change someday like ma and pappy did, way down that 6 feet deep black hole.

Be afraid more than you’ve ever had to before because to meet your demise isn’t a dream

It really happens, you die, I die, we all die eventually, like every other mortal of the Elohim

No wings, no bodies, invisible souls, out of their minds, in one ear and out of the other Jam

Pulling wool over your eyes, die as sheep, an epileptic flash blindness, a sacrifice of a lamb.

I don’t do the dozens but if I did, she’d be the one in the corner with the combats boots on

Nothing wrong with that if you’re in comic mode of breakin’ rules and laws, be in on the con

Pulling wool over eyes just like the sheep, causes immediate flash blindness, angels please!

Lucky you, we made it to Earth, we learned to survive, hate to die now but my heart’ll seize.

As soon as I set my eyes on the object of my desire and intent of my attention to the thing, It

Whatever you want to call it in any language or signals of the drawings or letters, hunter chit

How we survived without being eaten or burned or drowned, only God or Ala knows for sure

Copacetic as a fool on a hill, up a creek with no paddle, balls and bears hit jackpots’ red color.

Underneath the teflon armor there is the blood, skin and bone of the little one grown into big

For the black magic or the red devil, it all comes down to this, back turned on the only origin

All of this came from One thing, what it is, what you call it makes a little bit of difference but

Either black magic spells or blind luck of being in the right place at the right time, mystical!

Rhythm and beat merge into a song from horns, drums and steel strings’ amplified riffs

Chords of flats, sharps, major, minor, seventh and diminished, all help to express the One

Seven notes, seven octaves puts the forty nine places in this space time, no jumpin’ off cliffs

It’ll be over when it’s over, no reminisce routine for the dead and gone, be the Golden Dawn.

by

r j j stephan, i { #EyeAmNotBatman }

c. TUESDAY JANUARY 8TH, 2019 @ 3:33 PM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to some amazin’ CARLOS SANTANA #Europa & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/JAsfAuvFvh8 }

 

W.W.A.R.D.?

#WhereIsTheHill? #CypressHill #Time #Space #ricoSacto @ricoSacto

 

 ssssssssssssssssssss

A LUCKY STRIKE OR A CAMEL?

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, January 8, 2019

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Smokin’ hot, bees of honey in a black label, drunk in a twilight zone’s open wood-fire, I do

I don’t every time things appear to be going south, not my intention to be ignorant, ignored

I cannot do what I haven’t been programmed to do, ethics, morals, knowledge of evil’s God

One suddenly spunked into mitosis of the DNA, a fortunate son and wayward wife’s hotrod.

Under 9.2 in the 1/4 mile, on blacktop made for traction of spinning, burning rubber’s light

In utter darkness and malicious intent of an invisible terrorist, stalking the innocent at night

Eating, defecating, blowing hot air out of the posterior canals of foul stench, dead, used fuel

Taxi please or an UBER quote, get me to the airport before my flight departs for a liberty bell.

Periodic tables and algebraic equations to illustrate the nature of Being and the star, Sun

Father, mother and sister are another story for the nature of being a moment in Time’s fun

Pretendin’ that everything will be fine in the scheme of things will work for a while, it’ll end

Even if just a second before your last breath, it’ll present itself as the Truth ‘round the bend.

Look deeply into dark places you can find inside or outside a godhead, timing is everything

Peanuts is funny, the rest is history, grilled onions and extra well done on the cow pie thing

Bon Voyage to the minions who await the return of US mail to the address of a peppy skunk

Filing for the absentee parents, the motherless children survive, they’re behind bars, drunk.

To make sense of it all and bring all of the pressure on proving that knowledge is the Truth

A philosopher and a mystic have a chat in a chat room on the internet, metaphysics in sleuth

Fait a complet, it’s a wrap and there’s nothing that any human on Earth can do about a whole

If you’re alive or will be soon, get the info/data on the nuclear bomb/missile, in a black hole.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Tuesday, January 8th, 2019 A.D.

{ drafted listenin’ to top 15 #Cat commercials made to laugh your arse off, link @ https://youtu.be/DOyaP4Kr8R8 & #WARTheBand link @ https://youtu.be/gSQAlfyaKyc }

 

W.W.A.R.D.?

#WhatItIsLike #WhatItIs #SomebodyTellMeToo #SoundOfPain #OohAhh #OohAhh

SHAME AND THE TAMED MANE

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Sunday, January 6, 2019

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It’s alright to be here and now with the remnants of civilization, terrorist’s love of a Scratch

Layin’ and swingin’ in a hammock, wide awake or in a deep sleep in a waterbed’s cache cow

Got laid out after I got laid with a boat-full of #Kauai leis and goose-down creature comfort

Periodic tables and analytical deductions to feast on, nothing is better than the here and now.

Birds and bees gave my father the chills of this short life, he told me that x’s & y’s play robots

Lookin’ for the best ones who make each of us smile wide, a happy pleasure gift, oh my mama

Into the adult and the phase of machine strain and breakdown, drift away into the Forgots

Thinkin’ of things we’ve done and what we’ll do to carry on through this insoluble dilemma.

With a stick, a rock or a blade, a bullet hole or a slice of flesh, our meat is USDA quality #1

For no other reason than we’re lucky, nothing eats human beings, cannibals are an anomaly

Yet other species of animal eat their own, relatives or strangers of the same species, yes son

Not my fault, I’m just a drifter livin’ a dream, nothin’ but me on my own, looky here, I see!

Outside cosmic stew where even the Grateful Dead fear to go while still kickin’ in the barn

A veritable void, an absence of matter, not even one atom, no dawn or eve spun myth yarn

Something for everyone and Nothing for nobody, that is where the ball bounces, a punk scam

Cheating you out of your money and your turns to become rich and famous, holy God’s dam!

All of those tobacco leaves giving me the time and changing the dangle, a wobble of star dirt

Kicked by my own boots when I was down on the ground, kicked my own arse, lost my shirt

Dipped, smoked, rolled my own or stoked a pipe for a whiff of dead sailors’ Earth, 7 salty seas

I’m a model of universal Space, recallin’ old, bloody days? Timing’s everything, more please?

Forsaken purpose for being alive and surviving the struggle until the bitter end, I’m Cali-Eyes

Hippies and gurus playin’ the game without tellin’ anyone the punch line to the cosmic comic

You are all, everyone of you, alone, both now and forever, go away and come back, a God dies

Without an apology for losing immortality to daddy’s skin, bone, smoke and mirrors schtick?

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Dimanche 6 janvier 2019 à 10 h 10 (heure normale du Pacifique)

{ drafted while listenin’ to Kid Rock #Bawitdaba on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/1OrNS2zbTZg?list=PL23CAdoO_Fp-XXplpjfbHWyJF_4GV-OlG }

W.W.A.R.D.?