#RideLikeHehl #NeverStop #NeverLieToMe #AlreadyGone

BORED MONKS’ BOWS & GUNS, RIP

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Tuesday, February 26, 2019

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Struggle to become men and women from the boys and girls we got raised from, then caput

It’s over before you know it, before you wanted it to, an unexpected pretend shockin’ cut

Kicked off of the living team and traded to the dead, death of the heart and the soul, both

Souls cannot survive without a 208 bone framework unless angel wings count, chosen one.

Fear of the end of life will only waste the Time in this Space which’s so precious and critical

Mass and the quarks of black holes notwithstanding, a physics and chemistry, #Bardo #Hell

Burst out from a blown white dwarf, here we sit with Snow White and seven dwarves’ balls

Holy scat written down by scratchin’ straight and curved lines in the dirt and on cave walls.

Now and then, whether it’s your choice or not, you will die because you’re alive but that’s all

You and millions of other atomic ideas became adapted to pickin’ strings, Pan blowin’ a horn

For the minions to rock and roll around the Time and Space of watches and clocks, that’s all

Leave your body alone, burn it to dust, bury it in the rock flush of formaldehyde’s acid porn.

Grinning and laughing inside as loud as a black giant steppin’ on Tom Thumbs’ porch to find

Guitars and horns, drums and tambourines to add the voice of Earth to the noise of mankind

Words written and spoken in every language in the universe, sounds, signs never out of sight

Out back, *up-down* by a riverbed’s blown rocks, Hades’ smithereens, state of my good fight.

Fish and dolphins and whales jumpin’ out of the water to get up to the sky, we remain down

Home on the ground, still hungry to eat the matter to continue to remove a goddess’ gown

Searchin’ for what is never going to be found since it is nothing that is lost, nothing’s new

In my wildest dream, I live forever while everyone else dies in distress, um, the gods knew.

In a garbage or soup can, the refused is recycled into the smoke, chem-trail dusted air-gas

Through the hands of dirty bums and bumettes, life moves and animates the old bug’s arse

Educated from the kindergarten around 4 years old to the metabolized education’s gun-din

Boredom’s exactly what priests’ sisters of charity wanted, gods of war, death, now I’m all in.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. #Mardi, February 26, 2019 A.D. @ 7:11 AM PST

{ drafted listenin’ to #TrueLove by Glenn Frye & friends' #HITS youTube link @ https://youtu.be/mUM4x4Bl_Ic }

 #PURPLEhAZE

W.W.A.R.D.?

#FairToMidlandTexas @ricoSacto #ricoSacto

SAM WASNT WASTED TIME, POPS!

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Monday, February 25, 2019

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First time we met, I did not know it would be deeper than the concrete and rugs we groomed

Fur balls and cat scratched fever pullin’ it all together to make it all go away, y’all ain’t tamed

Wild as the hair looks on my back, tail and head, I remember what you told me boss, I got it

Here waiting for the next step of your legs movin’ one foot in front of another, type hard s#it!

Significant and simple, legitimate coming and going, like the mechanism of the galactic static

Compression’s explosions rule kings’ queens’ quarks inside of a singularity’s Void’s potshot

You know that is your origin, that’s why you can’t stand the sound of the word, it is symbolic

Inside an astronauts’ or cosmonauts’ spacesuit, the dream ends in all alone, an empty dot.

Milk of the feline cattery cut off from the source of being, a purr and spell of a kitty-cat nap

For the dogs among us, chasing a critter that runs is inhumane, in-canine, a travesty of crap

Asking for nothing other than food, water and a place to watch the living, huzza up the crack

Laughing on the way to the end of the last time they get to move, to animate the bones’ rack.

You don’t get to voice an opinion, river-flow downstream from the peak, to downriver’s #dam

Pour the water on the fire, spray the foam to suffocate the flames of the left over sparks’ kick

Planet spinning, maybe so, unclear spots on a dark matrix, blind faith in a holy, Popsicle stick

Mixed menudo with burning light and heavy metal, foul matter, faked you out pal, Sam, I am.

by

r j j stephan, i { dedication: #SamanthaStephan #RIP <3 span=""> #WonderinWhatILeftBehind #WastedTime}

c. Monday 2-25-2019 A.D. @ 4:11 PM PST *Header is ‘MOI’ in a California Redwood forest

{ spun this spin around on my thumb for an hour and it bled out as I became the sieve of the matrix listenin’ to #WastedTime by the mighty Eagles https://youtu.be/c0SvsinEUfY #OMG can’t believe it’s happenin’ again...baby’s gone, it looks like the end..... #BackOutOnTheStreet #TryinToRemember }

 W.W.A.R.D.?

#TurningIntoShadows @ricoSacto #ricoSacto

PICASSO’S VISIONARY FUSION *

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Monday, February 25, 2019 A.D.

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Merging the smallest particle of matter with the largest wave of energy becomes Adam

Evaluate the atoms, the neutrons and the organisms generated from wasted evolution

Neither good nor evil, it is just the plain facts of life, there’s no God or Ala, only atoms

Therefore, step up to the bar and name your poison, fission or fusion, either way, I win.

Not being either a man or a woman, just a ghost in the machine that types on keyboards’ buts

A three act performance without a finale because the star never comes out for a bow or curtsy

As the stage turns to black with only one spot of light in a beam, a voice kills the silence’s OM

Curiously foolish to expect the Good and Evil to share this inherited DNA Ugly shape’s form.

It’s a war to become either one or the other but never both until the last breath, unto death

Walkin’ or slitherin’, swimmin’ or flyin’ in every case as DNA moves, dies or lives in health

Ego of conscious awareness gives way to the Id, to the spikes of the Super Id, love it or hat it

I do not click on enter, that is up to you and yours, this here dream is a regular race riot!

Mother black, father white, cousins Latin, friends from the orient, revolutionary litter’s pick

To lead, to follow, to live and die knowing the reason for humanity’s presence from the dick

Into an egg of a program, 32 genes to mix and match the genome from Vladivostok to Cool

Old, golden hills in California from Pilot Hill to Coloma to Shantytown, keep lead for a fool.

Just like you and me, like the ones who came before and will come after us all, sweet Nothing

For the sake of sanity, we must not lose the blind faith in the unknown, the blackness’ Space

Void of everything from language, everything between planets and solar forces’ made-up face

Lipstick, color cover-up for the spots and scars, boom magic, #fakeNews of an ugly duckling.

by

r j j stephan, i { *Header is a Escuela Deportiva Pablopicasso of #Pablo }

c. February 25, 2019 A.D. @ 4:30 PM PST

{ #pumpedup listenin’ to #SlippinIntoDarkness by #WARTheBand on link @ https://youtu.be/RFSWW4O6QNM }

FINIS