#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

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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.?

@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.?

#EyeCannotBelieveThis #Ouila

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DADDIO’S NEW YEAR 2019 A.D., ICY

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Monday, December 31, 2018

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Alone and nothing but air baby, oxy-nitro, hydro-carbon and a menu-do of dead, cosmic soup

Mixed together in a menu do of cow’s brains and pigs’ feet, to eat or not, graves are in a loop

Deadpan spoon or a forkful, you can shovel it all down the gullet, no satisfaction’s all of that

Respecting nothing because it is all there is, the facts of life are chilling but, facts are #Fact.

You got here before or after I did, learned to read words and comprehend the being’s nature

I get ready to die every day of the living body, the oneness that’s here and now, bone bell ring

Saw it coming, body’s mind could have prevented divinity’s prestidigitation, a worldwide tour

Babies come and babies go, some sooner and some later, some never get past the zygote ding.

Perfectly happy and imperfectly sad, immortal ideas, a fiction of imagination, a chimera sin

Nothing or something, in the middle or at the outer edge of the system, chain of fools’ in a bin

From the front to the back, you will be what you are, what your intention allows, conquer it

Years, centuries and imaginary, fossilized parents of the present, hung low to burn and bury.

Chains of history, recollected by the ones who were never there, implants of an ignorant mass

Without the links, the fools are by themselves, all alone in the middle of paradise lost too fast

Before you know it, you discover nobody knows a thing at all about anything, farcical drama

Lying to me and sayin’ it’s gonna be alright, that is a mistake, I am a skeptical man of manna.

No free bread in the soup line, you must make an effort to survive in the cosmic bog of atoms

Naturally, Time’s Space becomes all there ever was, to you and everybody, even my God cums

Bringing acid to fruition under the blazing, red-hot, white dwarf, disguised as the Sun, Sonny

Boys and girls, it’s time for the show, we need to get it going, fade-out on stage, stoned Rocky.

All my friends and relatives faded to blackness on blue, all alone here and now, a haven sent

It is what it is and I can’t say no more since the WORD is all there is, I say it and it is so, cuz

Wonderfully composed compost in the hot spot, burnin’ nostril strength, odoriferous scent

A kiss and a shout away from the formulation of the mighty and weak, goodshitz got a buzz.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. FREEZEMBER 31, 2018 A.D. Lundi @ 9:11 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to some Slash, Derek Trucks Susan Tedeschi Ronnie Wood - Oficial & SimplyRed’s Mick Hucknall (Simply Red) Italian FAN CLUB all @ B.B.Kings B.B.King Blues Club & Grill New York #ThrillIsGone & HITS on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/3uneA-cstZs?list=RDjJncp6eMUSQ }

 

W.W.A.R.D.?

#WithALotOfHelpFromMyFriends #FakeNews #WTF would Richie do? #WWRD or even @AynRand?

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BE THE LIGHT, IT’S PESO DE OCHO

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Saturday, December 29, 2018

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Pulling the zero gravity around with the skin and bones is as easy as a pirate dreamin’ a mare

Maybe in the day or the night, closer to my world in my own mind, home sweet home there

Pieces of eight and the pirate’s booty lifted from sailing and stealing without working, insane

Completely ingrained into the genome, programmed DNA to reproduce and survive the pain.

Blown horns and blown harps leading you and I on to the final curtain, feared twilight’s zone

Where men, women, animals and plants of dirt, go to their maker, an original species’ bone

Pick a feeling inside, deep down in the bones, in the soul, be merry, be happy, do not fret wife

It is what it is and it can be no more, the drama’s the ceiling, no drama’s a rock bottom life.

Frozen back bone, holding my nerves to signal my inner warmth from frozen Chicago’s rivers

All the water runs through it, satiating the thirsty and keeping the wasted mush. sanitizers

Looking outside of the box there is nothing to see, hear, feel, taste or touch, empty void’s God

Streamed the lack of everything known, empty hole without holiness, human, divine blood.

Over again and over again, we repeat ad infinitum without hesitation, it’s what we do forever

There’s nothing else to do but stay alive without pain or suffering, strive for stasis of the lever

It moved the unmoved from it’s spot of being too heavy, in the light way we walk until extinct

Then absolute emptiness turns creation not so pink sink, sunk down under or above the law.

The lead and gold all get traded for the food and the mates presented to the buyers & sellers

Time ticks and moves sundial shadows quickly around the quivered arrows in the bullseye

Pine cones, seeds of the plants and animals that gave us our energy, to animate the complex

Putting a foot in front of another, cutting in lines, finishing the session with a priority FedEx

Monkeys, snakes and me in a bag, a burlap sack of potato smells from Idaho, need a fist fight

Out in first light of the day when the sun shines somewhere unseen and suddenly out of bed

Stiff corpses and stiff fishing rods move one another for no reason, just back off the big head

Beacon to lead the blind and disoriented to the goal, pay the pieces of eight, see light, be light.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. FREEZEMBER 29, 2018 Saturday @ 4:11 AM PST

{ DRAFTED all the while jammin’ on some Tednugent.com #Stranglehold & HITS link on youTube @ https://youtu.be/0c3d7QgZr7g }

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W.W.A.R.D.?

#RickRoll #TootsieRoll #LetsRoll

NOT SO FUNNY, HUH? #RickRoll

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Friday, December 28, 2018

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You and I got to the party after it had already started but nobody was rockin’ the floor

So, the happy ones began spreading the joy around to all brothers and sisters who roar

Star above and below the Mason-Dixon lines, pointlessness, despair from the top’s tip

All the way down to the foundation of Being itself, the matrix unfolds the mystery clip.

Business and pleasure mixed together in one lump sum of things themselves, less or more

Then, as if it’s right now, ending battles with robots and idiots, all too inhumane to the core

Mental and physical ability inherited from the acid, created, evolved, mutated, fortunate son

Who cares about everything? God, that’s the concept of this world, game! How fun? Funny!

Bad brakes can’t stop the momentum of the load, the mass that animates the bones’ marrow

Perfunctory poetry and accident of the genome’s conception and adaption to evolve, be slow

Faster than a speeding bullet and able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, just too human

To be or not to be in the middle of the mix, yesterday, today and tomorrow, love in a tin can.

Flyin’ in a circle around in space, revolving, orbiting, wobbling ad infinitum, puttin’, takin’

Until the last gasp and gulp of the gas that made water famous, oxygen and hydrogen ballin’

On and off of the court, to score is to win, to shut out the opponent, to create a long lost loser

One who was winning everything has destroyed all semblance of happiness , middle of Nye.

Thinking gets you so far and then you must leap ahead, blind faith’s bloody, fuschia comin’

Blood! You’re the alpha and omega of whatever you are, alive because Eve bawled my demon

For the bread and water to stay alive in the wind, the rain, the freezing cold and snow of sin

Disobey the master of my behavior, my moral and ethical self, an invisible blue moon’s son.

All of the people, we the people, those people who formed a perfect union of cosmic raindust

From a one cell acid malfunction, mutation and random recombination of macrophage rust

Performance on the track, runnin’ counter clockwise to Time’s elipse in black Space’s quarks

First Cause of God’s Void, original con-game, holy oragasmic cave monkeys, dreamers’ kids.

I got a line on you baby, it’s straight and narrow like the path I tread from dusk until dawn

This will go right to your head and you will become the thinker that I never could be, a pawn

One move at a time, one space or more, diagonal or straight up-down the sixty-four squares

Until the end of the game when check or a checkmate put the #RickRoll on the beaten, losers!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. FREEZEMBER 28, 2018 A.D. @ 6:66 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to #Boss Bruce Springsteen Gillette Stadium Foxboro, MA. 09/14/2016 on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/r42oGK-8lDY?t=1}

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W.W.A.R.D.?

#DropTheTop #NeverEverDrip

 #DropTheTopBaby

SPARKS, FIRE, ODDS IN FAVOR *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan·Thursday, December 27, 2018

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Hotter than a pistol after ten rounds fired into the bull’s eye where nothing but emptiness Is

Glimpse of the way when blinded by Light in an empty nest where silence annihilates the kids

Dark matter and White Noise permeate the atmosphere both above and below the substances

Water, Fire, Air and Earth mix up the rocks and rolls ‘em around infinity’s ellipse, who says?

Sweetened spots and sourpuss funk in boots all have smoke swirling in past winds of Time

Everything is what the timing is, all of the things themselves and everything else on record

To recollect the data and replay it all for those that missed the trippin’ of their mom’s rhyme

Multiple children from multiple men and just one woman, brothers’ and sisters’ multi-color.

Milkman at your wife’s kitchen door and you’re supposed to roll with sucker punches, kiss it

Love in between us and leakin’ out of the holy holes between your ears, 7 holes from a teat

That is what the reason is for being alive and reproducing DNA to disregard the extinction pit

To be or not to be just because you can, no other reason for being alive, just eat, love, excrete.

You’ll never be awake before you die, death requires awakening, it is inevitable to be the hole

It’s a holy hole or an empty hole but it’s a hole all the same, a place where Nothing is the Soul

In love or not, blinded by light or the darkness, it’s inevitable that you see Truth, you see God

Divine intervention in the perfunctory prayer, lay you down to sleep in astral dust, gas’ blood.

Peering through a pin hole of light, insight invisible, dumb luck alive, blowin’ winds of Time

Gone from the scene in less than a hundred trips around the star, still an insane, lame brain

As it was above and so it is below as well, finite cascade of caskets runnin’ a 208 bone-dash

Skillet of corpses, fried French Englishmen in Italy’s boot, criminals’ gold spot of lead cache.

For no reason other than just because, you are going to die just like me and every other body

It doesn’t matter which species and which time the DNA was processed, it’s all Cosmic Soup

Mixed in a hodgepodge of whatever this and that happens to be named to the #Allstar five

Ball is legal and on the floor, on the field or court and hit or thrown, bounced, full hand-jive.

by

r j j stephan, i #TheOddsAintInOurFavor

c. FREEZEMBER 26, 2018 A.D.

{ drafted while listenin’ to Bruce Springsteen - #Uncasville 5-18-2014 FULL SHOW - final show of the tour! link @ https://youtu.be/0nUeKuDjHUU }

 W.W.A.R.D.? 

#SupremeEssenceHeartSoulChi #BabyBabyIDGetDownOnMyKneesForYou #IfOnly...

 I DESERVE A WHISTLE, OLD MAN

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Wednesday, December 26, 2018

s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s

Ice cold beer and straight Black Label gets into the boys’ and girls’ skins behind iron curtains

Battles and wars of wills, nobody backs down or gives up light, only the living kill, Fire stings

Freezing on the hot side of the Earth and burning on the frozen side, it’s what a star reasons

Dead and gone, a lost cinder in the scheme of atomic things themselves, microcosmic beings.

Fire and light are all there is, without them life doesn’t animate on planet Earth, a zero sect

From the original burst of energy, a Big Bang and a Silent Whimper become Cause and Effect

Nowhere to run, nowhere to reproduce the DNA ad infinitum in the middle of heavenly soil

Utter complicity with the deceiver of the common and complex, I am here, now I am loyal.

To the father, to the son, to the daughter and the mother from which acid bursts, gods at war

Spinning and wobbling in circles without any reason for being there, just because, that is all

To search the observable, record-able with the tools of the trade, humanity’s straight razor

So be fine, live alive without being two, three or more, all alone in solitary dread to the core.

Function of the metric measure on the number lines of two dimensions produce a 3rd & 4th

On the 5th, whether it’s a full quart or a milliliter less, spiritual flight of the soul’s folk lore

Bird or anything with wings to defy the gravity of the hysterical graves, dug in haste’s odor

Deteriorate and create the things that perpetuate the moves of Mercury’s twilight zone door.

I’ve got your attention now or maybe not but the issue ain’t me to be or not to be, it’s all you

Been the end and the beginning of the lines that go parallel or cross-cross their paths of “Do”

When “Don’t” is the WORD of the day, learned is adaption to change quickly before removed

From thee to thou and there to here, now and then you make a move, being at one, unmoved.

Sudden death and an unexpected accident of Time’s Space conjunction in a parallel junction

Deep in a canyon and far out of a universe in the Void of Being’s mighty surgeons cut of One

Not just one of the ones but The One, you are at least reading about the facts of life for once

Adapted adoption of the machine that I am, I whistle to warn my prey, I’m a loaded six-gun.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. FREEZEMBER XXVI, 2018 AnnoDomini

{ drafted while listenin’ to 94.7 WLS-FM on the web link @ https://www.iheart.com/live/947-wls-5367/ & listenin’ to some Daryl Hall at Daryl's House Club & The O'Jayslink @ https://youtu.be/BzWRT-PAGQk }

W.W.A.R.D.?

#JingleBellJive #RightTimeToRock #RideInAOneHorseSleigh

MASSIVE TIMES IN CLEARLIGHT

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Monday, December 24, 2018

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Handling with care was never an option in the middle of grim chaos, you don’t care though

So, no harm, no foul, continue the dream without a thought of makin’ any messes, holy O

I think and therefore the logic remains to be seen, whether it matters to God or man’s face

Treachery and forms of Matter’s marvelous substance as such, is All there is in empty space.

Another pretty face won’t move the unmoved mover an inch to the right or the left, at One

Nevermore in two or three split personalities which swim in chaos, lovin’ the insane fun

Without any regard for the doing unto others golden rule, consume the food, lick the hand

Like a hungry dog lookin’ for a master, someone to hunt for it’s food to cook in a dead pan.

Mother of all bombs will put a dent in the cement down to the core, reverberated brass bells

Ringing up the total of the cash and the charge for the things created to be destroyed in jells

Holiday virus ready to re-ignite the Earth into a Pulsar, White Dwarf or Snow White no doubt

And how the Time and Space works it all out by itself without my help, hey, it’s not my route!

Formulated the matter into tiny cells of atoms’ electrons, neutrons and protons, for A-bombs

H-bombs and #Neutrons ready to trium the Earth into a Pulsar, White Dwarf FeFiFoFums

Just because that is what matter does, it burns and has no ethics or morality, Ra, Jesus, Sky

Faith-blinded black-light in dark rooms without mothers or fathers to feed upon, Voided eye.

Picked and plucked because the Time is up and it’s all goin’ down, from above and below me

Spatial dimension of a warped shape at the mercy of gravitational and centrifugal forces’ tea

Wake up call for dead bodies’ souls buried, burned, drowned and blown clear to smithereens

Yuletide attitude, tip God’s DNA, melted blood and bone’s fate, frosty snowman exit scenes.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. FREEZEMBER 24, 2018 A.D. @ 3:33 PM PST

{ written listenin’ to some fantastic Frosty's Christmastime Lounge link @ https://www.iheart.com/live/iheartchristmas-4596/ #NorthPoleRadio on the WEB @ here’s a link to #NORADSanta #trippin on the #lead #RudolfoTheRedNoseReindeer @ https://www.noradsanta.org/ )

 

W.W.A.R.D.?