A PHILOSOPHY of NOBODY @ricoSacto #ricoSacto #IdentityPoliticsAndYourMama #Jericho #Nickelback #ChildishGambino

 #CardboardLeanToJericho  #TeaseTheWinos

ONE, ONE-ONE, ONE NINE, PIZZA! *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Saturday, January 12, 2019

------------------------

This only happens once every century 1-11-19 ever since I don’t know when, presence bawl

Pretty mamas all helpin’ me wonder where they’ve been hung so long and then, that is all

I couldn’t get rid of them, they were like, well, like stink on the shat, crumbled aster-crepe

Stuff you cannot make up, the pretenders are legion, ruling us in midnight’s blues, asleep.

I am paying attention and I am waiting for the other shoe to drop, copy form to git-some

Knowing tht the dream is a dream in a dream is three things, not a lonely matter, my son

Starting from the beginning at the get-go where everything comes from me, lies sun cum

Star, white or red dwarf, down to a singularity where a black hole’s what we’ve all become.

Pernicious patriots and idiots of the bounding mane, short of the dream’s climax, this Force

Blind eyes wide open to the blaze, the burnin’ atoms of gas creating a neutered Zeus’ #TicToc

Holy and a harbinger of the way it used to be and never will be again, present trinity divorced

Cheeses, cheesy slush of cow and goat teat milk, on top of my head’s magnetic, gravity block.

Defined lines of thought, deductions from inductions of my incorporated, sky-high spirits

From one more than too many, we animate the songs with lips and tongues, native chi-lights

Long hair and strings pluckin’ redbones of the natives who came before Vespucci’s barbwire

Among the children who’ve grown out of the spawn of the dead braves, drunk on water’s fire.

Love in or out of the plane, roundish faces and spiked teeth of the species’ main vine, oh Ga

On ponies or motorcycles, the dream is the same, kill the living for the food, thank ol’ Zapata

Pretenders and serious leaders of people who do a blow hard job on the microphone hot-wire

Insufficient but necessary pretense and post haste chaff, a bit of sunlight burn, I’m StarFire.

Divinity slipped and showed the no-peek hand, four aces, full house, trip queens or treys

Mindful of the Way that hominid peds must tred, giving, putting and taking gettin’ down

All for the love of the babies who grow into the minions who serve the TV and radio plays

Commercials to move the freight built from the divine inventions, a cup, a glass, a pawn.

It’s my business and yours is yours and I care but if you don’t share, It is OK, old bloke

Important thing to know is the thing itself and its essence, its form, its spirit, its smoke

When you can see the fumes rising into the sun’s rays coming down to fry your holy hole

The One inside your head, the One in your mind that you’ll never see or hear, Silencio!

Mama used to say she was gonna tell my pops when he got home from work, never, ever did

Good threat that I believed until she quit producing the idle sword over my ebony hothead

Flight into the future to the present, the here and now where I am, here and now you’re NOT

Just because you thought you were so pretty, now you cannot come and get it all hot, #Red!

by

r j j stephan, i { *header ON FB page is the reaper, you know, that #OldTimer dude! }

c. Samedi 11 janvier 2019 Anno Domini

{ drafted while whittling and jammin’ to Redbone #ComeAndGetYourLove on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/kuymTS9PoBQ }

 

FINIS

#BustAMove @ricoSacto #ricoSacto #PumpUpTheVolumeYall

SECRET METAPHYSICS’ FORMULA

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Friday, January 11, 2019

-----------------

Bigger than Labowski and smaller than a speck of cosmic dust, hair on skin’s TV bones

It is the way the things that move from within just do it, animated heartbeats’ radio stones

Whether they rock or they roll makes little difference, it’s the tide, the ebb and up-flows

Emergency? Take it easy, take your time, it’ll all end someday, you’ll all come to blows.

Having children is having future taxpayers who will pay your golden #CalNeva silver lining

Completed trip from the conception to the infection and termination of the boogie downing

All serious because it’s the way it is, no laughter, no recognition of a guilty conscience sin

Our little wing, Rams and Cowboys want to be the champion, a conscience of the nation.

Be prepared as the boy scouts of America called their BSA troop leaders out, Truth be untold

Demands of a pope and president to exile and terminate unelected nation leaders of the fold

A communal resolution for the border security, the POTUS will build Humpty-Dumpty #wall

One rolling egg fallen from above, shattered into One 1999 glass party, voided simpatico call.

An ‘x’ or ‘y’ in an equation of justice’s fate, DNA mutation from corruption, species’ extinction

We are not on it, planet eating, cows, chickens, fish, their milk, their eggs, flesh chopped Sun

Fun n’ games, serious business, attack or defend the vitality threat to you and Luddite bloods

Hydrogen fission Void, a Nihilism y’all consume, annihilated glass, wasted mass of demigods.

I’ve got some news for you and you may just find it to come in handy, way down a lonely road

Nobody gets the information when they want it but when they needed it, the metadata flowed

Blind faith in my glitches of fake ancestors’ logic and reason, conclusions, command of rights

Civil dialogue terminated, the Fabian socialists rule the roost, had enough, academic unload!

Cadre of bullies in the bowels of canine civilized training, the diapers, morality polls, ethics

All of the ways we’ve become ‘this here’ due to an accidental, cosmic faux pax, a fake news fix

That there magic’s the rest of the story, began with sound, a word, win pooh of abra cadabra

Cowboys, Words-Up a champion Patriots’ extinct Lebowsky, silenced teats,#Winning #Duh.

by

r j j stephan, i { What is it that kills Big Lebowskys? SCUD missiles or Nothing at all. Except #Time at 4:30! ...yarn spun with the MD’s... }

c. Friday, One Eleven Twenty Nineteen A.D. @WhatTimeIsIt? it’s not late...it’s early... @4:30 & listenin’ to the #Luddites favorite music @Spindoctors  https://youtu.be/e86omL8uzks }

 ...when in doubt...think about it...W.W.A.R.D. ?

#FabricatedBabble #PicassoWasAStonedJunky

HALF a PICASSO, DO it OVER AGAIN

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, January 10, 2019

------------

Without me and without you there is nothing at all, believe me and if you don’t who cares

Six sheets to the wind and I know better than to say I know anything because I’ve got shares

Mothers of the homeless boys and girls had no husbands, no fathers and no brothers, no kin

No hope for anything except for another fix of something up the sleeve, tween the toes, all in.

Who wanted to give you a chance to make it the rest of your life? No holier than Man, lonely

Reality happens when you open your eyes and live alive in the present into the future, homey

You and your friends pretend and you hope your family kin are all wrong, no black sheep love

It always was what it is right here and now, I don’t get it, named thing, look out below, above.

Nuts and fruits, skin and bones to be above ground and below the sea level surface a twerkin’

Not just once or twice but an infinitude of times, ahead in the race counterclockwise trackin’

Party with food and drink to keep, your move in the boat goin’ all night long, pass a fifth Jack

Don’t need a shot, just two lips and an ice cold Bud by a glass’ bottle of bulletproof Blackjack.

Straight shot into the bullseye for the sake of the matter and energy that you can & can’t see

Talk with the language of the culture you’re lost within, makes your head explode into pieces

Forsaken and forlorn, it doesn’t matter how many stones you inhale, wine you imbibe for free

Hard work of reputations tracked into slander, offendin’ my psyche, backbone core freezes.

The day we die we’ll give it up but not a moment before, sorry you are always and will ever be

A matter of being, a figure of imaginary speech, linguistics and comprehension are the 3.14 pi

Joe and Jesus more than less, become the person of the year, as if there was more than one

Aliens ate all the rest, the bones and all, now this naked ape monkey must bring on the fun.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Thursday, January 10th, 2019 A.D. @ 9:11 PM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to Jonny Lang #RackEmUp & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/7FHhDY2zmcg }

 

W.W.A.R.D.?

@Underexposed @ricoSacto #ricoSacto

ALL GONE, SKIPPED SPACE & TIME

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, January 9, 2019

-------------------------------------

Camel’s lips and tattooed hands of henna meet in dubious places in space, all for the humps

My humps, her humps all get atop the dromedary creating Andromeda infused data dumps

L.A. ladies and NYC hotties movin’ north to south from Chicago and on back to old CalExico

Mixed in exact order of explosion, first the outermost matter and then the nucleus of it blow.

Meeting with the dubious boss of the entire planet is silly, no meet or greet a queen or king

Son of a saint, a seamstress for a rock and roll band who traveled with Hubble’s Space probe

All of it y’all on a laser tape record player jute box, only thing certain is, ‘timing is everything’

Blown out pipes of exhaustion, rocked me to tears, shot hoops and diamonds on the ear lobe.

Tigers whether male or female do what cats do, kill and eat, reproduce and sleep and fight

Naturally it is what it is to be a cat whether in a cave, a tree or in a suburban cottage sight

Beautiful in the mirror of a blind man is as pretty as the darkness before atoms gotta blow

I ain’t drunk, I ain’t high, I’m educated to 16th grade, rest in peaceful history, make no foe.

I want to blow you away but if I do you won’t read this diatribe all the way to the bitter end

Where you’re meant to go but will never get to unless you keep steppin’ out, ‘round the bend

A lick means nothing other than you’ve got salt and bacteria on your palms and finger tips

Get over it gangsters, gold teeth and blood on the asphalt to look at my lost traces of ships.

Ones that sailed away in the night and never seen again on the face of Earth, I am one of ‘em

Not a reward but just a pathway down the center of the farm, the ranch or tiny town of them

Right down centerfield’s two-way street, caution, peaceful wind, blowin’ stops, mortal sinnin’

Grapo changed to vino at the right time, licked the henna off of camels, the pine & the wine.

One way or another, we’ll give them something to talk about one way or the other, huddle up

We’re goin’ right over the top into the end zone, there’s only ten seconds left, just get in step

One, hut two...hut hut...hike, passed, touchdown, we win, it’s a hustle for a thing camels love

To talk and to feel deeply in and out of it, I loved, I licked, eclipsed my solo flight, a cut above.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Wednesday January 9th, 2019 A.D. @ 4:44 PM

{ drafted while jammin’ to the Eagles #Legacy #TheLongRun & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/QyUW98ROjbk }

 

W.W.A.R.D.?

#LowJack #Bulletproof

BULLETPROOF, LOJACK HOMELESS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Wednesday, January 9, 2019

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Taillights are all I saw as my wheels drove away from my sight, a handshake, an odd ass’ kiss

I found the skeleton stripped on down the road behind the red barn and low-ball snow drifts

My soul dropped and my head nearly blew up like a room full of TNT’s holy, red-hot sparks

Sitting back, picking and grinning about the rhapsody’s melody, homeless in Chicago’s parks.

Cruising for bruising, coasting for slides along, no beat goin’ on, yet I rule it, a Main squeeze

All nothing, when you stop breathing, your heart stops beating, your eye balls stiff in a freeze

All of your muscles, bowels trained by the civilized culture go slack, last memory of this chit

A lingering odor of fecal matter, meat and cheese processed for life on the third stones spit.

Gas moved into liquid and solid, an evolution of the solar flares of hot, blown, atomic mass

Leaving the light and the heat in the wake for the waif to swim in and ponder fusion’s glass

All that’s left when atoms fizz or fuse into the thing itself, Oh Popeye of God, Olive Oyl is hurt

Eating me spinach just because it’s green, full of vitamins’ minerals, we kissed the filthy dirt.

Ragamuffin’s and waifs ruling the streets, homeless street urchins abandoned by mom’s pop

In line for the soup and the hot, fresh bread to fill the empty heads and bellies of the top crop

Children born and raised to keep the Earth rockin’ and rollin’ around the ecliptic, infinity’s Id

Animated from One state of being, at One until a Nova consumes this fake, holy, atomic grid.

Lies told to the children to pass on as the Truth of the ancestors become a sacred saga’s fuss

Unbelievable, incredible and not ready for prime time, revelation that emptiness is Void of us

Nobody, nothing exists where there’s no gas, no air, no matter, no energy, roll away the stone

Holy cave, radicals put games in the ground of being, holy hole cracks open, boned to BONE!

by

r j j stephan, i #GTFOOH

c. Wednesday, January 9, 2019 A.D. @ 7:11 AM PST

{ drafted while jammin’ to Cypress Hill #PutEmInTheGround & #HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/nNyDk4Q503M }

 

W.W.A.R.D.?

@MrBean #ricoSacto

IT’S A DISGUISE FOR THE UNSEEN

by

Richard Joseph Stephan * Tuesday, January 8, 2019

-------------------------------

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

---------------------------------

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

----------

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.?

#HolyChasm #MindMatterAndYourMama #DrHook @DrHook #DoinNineToFive

CHASM IN ONE’S SCHIZOID MINDS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Saturday, January 5, 2019

--------------------------------

Enough is enough and too much is too much, not enough and who gives a flyin’ hoot, man

Who is obtuse other than all of the others, the ones who you are not and never will be, One

Not because it is their personal desire or will to be the way they are, the human being fun

Just because you think you’re so pretty with that empty drink, blockin’ the #FakeNews, son.

Dreaming when you’re in a deep sleep, about how it’s going to be, in a long or a little while

You never know what tonight or tomorrow might bring in front of your consciousness’ pile

Baggage carried whether you like it or not, it’s a robotic program from childhood, orphaned

Mothers and fathers of us all die and get burned or buried, some sink to a bottomless Mind.

Hay is for horses, my mama used to say when I’d yell, “Hey, mom!” Flashback a baseball hit

I needed my uniform but I forgot to put it in the hamper, so it was green grass, stained sweat

Became The Way to practice, pedalin’ rubber side down on a two-wheeled, red Schwinn bike

Streamers streamin’ the flow of sense and nonsense to conflagrate the the rockin’ roll psyche.

Perfectly in tune with the notion of motion in the ocean, first moving H2O and C6H12O2 #Ra

Into a hodge podge of menu-do from cal-zone and minestrone leftovers, oh #PeggySue DA

Sung loud and clear from the Halls of Montezuma to the Shores of Tripoli, evil Adam’s spin

Wars historical, battles on rock gardens of queens and kings, the rapin’ rascals’ of Eve’s skin.

Your soul and my heart misbehaving into the emptiness of sweet, golden bee’s honey of love

Beatin’ knees and wings from dusk until dawn, comin’ into the sweetness as above, so below

She may be happy or she may be hungry but when she’s ready for the battle of chess to win

Fun and game no more, time and space are to use or lose, punks heads-up, get into the flow.

by

r j j stephan, i { “[T]he only way to find peace and contentment is to stop thinking about yourself.” - #MichaelASinger }

c. Saturday, January 5th, 2019 A.D. @ 11:11 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to Dr.hook Doctorhookah #WhenYoureInLoveWithABeautifulWoman & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/bD0CSd6BM6w & #FooledAroundAndFellInLove by Elvin Bishop link @ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nvglqc3QYq8 }

 

W.W.A.R.D.?

#Trippin @Trippin & just trippin'...

BLACK PEARLS IN WHITE TRASH

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Friday, January 4, 2019

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Come back to the beginning where you always intended to be, here and there, now then

Inferior or superior all mixed up either way, not the whole thing, just a piece of the skin

Points in the argument or on top of the head, you are a moron, you are an idiot, we are one

It is done, everything will all become the same as it was before the beginning, Divine fun.

But if and only if you can see in the darkness where nothing but you resides, holy soul dead

Peeking in holes to see the real things, as they are, coming to the end of the goddess’ dread

Flight of the birds whose wings are clipped by their karma, what they did before this dream

It must be paid, the debt I mean, either yours, mine or both, maybe all of ours, it’s an A-team.

Punks of spunk young men left abandoned on the bathroom shower stalls’ floors, wet dreams

Uncomfortable and annoying from the first to the last day of the cough, the sneeze, the gags

Sudden impact with a miracle and an accident, collision keeps you in tune, dead, heavy metal

Soft head on soft rock and roll dreams, #FakeNews, #Tragedy, all on a roll, amen, skedaddle.

Punks before and after grade-school training for a high school or university diploma/degree

Wisdom will not sink into the genome and will be forgotten under the dirt, burned by starfire

One day before the Earth caught it’s orbit to wobble to, I was there and I’m still here now, see

Those black pearls rolled and the white trash rocked the iron horse I rode in on, I am for hire!

Infants grown into children and on to adulthood, where each man is responsible for all of it

We all come from Original genome DNA and we’re the ones who live and die on an axis’ chit

Responsible and obligated to the #FactsOfLife as they’ve been handed down from emptiness

Factoids noted, lickety splitly I move in tandem with my spirit, on the freeway with The One.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Friday January 4th, 2019 AD

{ drafted & crafted while listenin’ to Aretha Franklin #FreewayOfLove & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/Ip_pjb5_fgA }

 

 W.W.A.R.D.?

#ThirdOfTheFirstOfTwoZeroNineteenAD

GIVE A RAT’S BEHIND, STICK IT!

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, January 3, 2019

----------------------

Livin’ in a van down by the river on a Thursday at 7:11 AM, fully armed before the cock crows

Motivation to be satisfied with the fact that you pay for the things you consume, by working

Labor of blood, sweat and tears of your forefathers, absentee fathers and mothers of mating

Deep thought is not required in your repertoire, wear your baseball hat backwards, albinos!

Now, get past the hot tip above and you’ve still got holes in your Dumbo ear lobes’ holy skin

Cauterize the wounds of the saviors who rise above the loudest mouths, stars, stripes, gunnin’

The most toys in possession of the degenerate genome which is the fission and fusion of Mum

You know the girls that raised us become what we are, holy garbage in garbage out, ho hum!

Now then, all educated with the logic and reason, the high metaphysics of wisdom, hear that?

Keepin’ whose hands off of my property, my right to possess and bear, a revolution to begin

Shell shock and battle fatigue come in handy when you’re at war, operational exhaustion sin

A little thing called #PTSD ,a post traumatic stress disorder, a Vietnam GI love of country scat.

Landfill of the garbage inside and outside of your heart and soul, become your preconception

Prior to mothers’ pregnancies, religion from East to the West, concealed divinity in clear skin

Soul and mind, spirit of the condition of being, moving, animated DNA out of nowhere above

As below, maybe an illusion or dream within a Poe dream, guest appearance, die white dove!

Pass away from death do I part, I shall expire, life throttled me by the throat, I choked a byte

I swear I shall overcome the impossibly illogical tendency to survive when death is inevitable

Narcistically speaking, without me here and now, I don’t care what happens to a world’s balls

Start at origins of ignorance, collect a compendium of fear’s mythology, now you know It all.

Revolution against the Big Brother that nobody knows even exists at all, that is God’s Truth

Ten or seventeen Rights on the written word of humanity, the pretenders awake, we all alone

Inside or outside of seven continents above the saltwater of the fish in the sea, I am uncouth

Uncivilized and enculturated with being a skeptic of the patronized eyes of rods and cones.

by

r j j stephan, i #MolonLabe Moxy Molonlabe

c. Thursday January 3, 2019 A.D. @ 7:11 AM PST

{ drafted while improving my self-esteem in tune to the inspirational #GeorgeCarlin standup on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/h6wOt2iXdc4 }

 

W.W.A.R.D.?

#WhatWouldAynRandDo #WWARD #LoveMyBaby #ImHerLittleLoverBoy #Happy2019Yall

20/20 DIRIGIBLE’S HINDSIGHT

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, January 2, 2019

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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

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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.?