#ThisIsRareEarth #Militarize or give up the cookies! #ResistWeMuch

 

MOTIVES, SPACE’S TIME TO AVOID*

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Saturday, March 30, 2019

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You can’t tell when something is going to fail, it’s the nature of being alive down home, here

On the Earth, the dirt, black, red and gold lucky to be alive for a moment, all of this is Fear

Of being all alone in the middle of nowhere with nothing but an empty vacuum to ponder me

It is one of the facts of life, these quantum theories of everything are in the computer’s scree.

Come home when you’ve been away forever, it just won’t look the same in the cosmic rod

Complete spunk and funk coming out of seven holes in God’s face’s skull, a dead demi-god

Golden God, yes sir, be obedient to The Master, there’s only One Way for High-Tech stipends

Live alive and be dead in death, that is all you can do, all you will do, unless your dream ends.

If you look around or deep inside, it’s identical, within and without a head, we all gotta die

It doesn’t matter if you’ve been loved or if you’ve loved anybody or anything at all, souls fly

It’s either an empty conceptual analysis of the things ratcheting up my bloody hemorrhoid

Or it’s an incredible notion that all of these things themselves come from nothing but a Void.

The inferior needs the superior to compare the mirage, instant ghosts in every orgasm spurt

It is how the spirit enters into the genome’s spunk, to be or not to be extinct in wipe-out Dirt

Star dirt is the used-up, gas emissions of the black holes and white dwarves, ghostly coolers

Punk rock and classical overtures come in dead people’s suits on the hook, dead-god killers.

Didn’t ask for a kiss but you took one from me without permission, it was sweet, we, all good

After time and space were swept under the mat, decades rolled by, I died, you died, we all did

Once upon a time, twice, thrice, multiple times, NUKE war OTW, ad infinitum 5G ping-pong

Boys and girls taught to obey the law, press buttons on and off, pay the tax to bang the gong.

Army, Navy, Marine Corps, Air Force, Coast Guard and reserves of warriors defend this chit

Stand down and don’t defend yourself, see what happens tomorrow, actually, you won’t see it

Eyes won’t be wide open, the mind will not be bent to the pleasure and pain of being the Man

Hu-man being specially created or randomly evolved in a clap-trap, a star-kissed a tuna can.

by

r j j stephan, i {*Header is a masterpiece of rock hard, human symbol of the ORIGINS!}

c. March 30th, 2019 A.D. @ 2:22 AM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to NewsRadio KFBK-1530AM the Richard Syrett spouting tantalizing broadcast, paranormal, conspiracy, #AI & whatever the Cosmos hacks into! Boom, link @ https://www.iheart.com/live/kfbk-fm-am-217/ }

FINIS

#PERFECTIONisRIGGED #FakeNewsIsTheWholeTruth @ricoSacto #ricoSacto

A LITTLE SOMETHIN’ TO JUMP FOR

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, March 28, 2019

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Way up higher than ten feet, the hands’ bones slam on the rims, no longer hard rocks to fall

Easy as a swish through a nylon net, big boys and girls throwin’ the pea down, jammin’ a call

A little game created to keep the young fellows out of trouble, without it we’re doomed to see

Just a civilization of smaller skeletons, less than six feet long, two feet wide, miraculous to be.

Computers, #2 pencils, ball point and fountain pens, vaporized trees’ pulp into leaf pages

To capture the light and the ink in accepted, standardized forms, to read and digest sages

Wise men who told some tales without giving away the secret, why we’re here, who we are

Gods gave a narrative to the scribes, they wrote it, we read it, nobody ever knows it there.

Until you and I reach the final showdown, before the fear of death overtakes your tiny mind

Think about it, you were thinking of things and soon you won’t be, it will all be over my kind

Presence of sons and daughters of the unseen, above the matrix’ essence, below a poop deck

Children of men and women are what we are, that is all, no more or less, hey what the heck?

Motivation to move up and down, in and out, over and under in a 360 degree kind of circle

Is dependent on the ingestion of proper sustenance for the apprehension of momentum’s pill

You and I and no one else but the first man you met on the street, horns blown, here and now

Back doors side-locked tighter than tom toms, snares and a bass drum, skin of god’s spells.

Strings to rub the sound out of the friction, melodies and rhythm from hearts’ ebbing souls

Provided the stuff that dreams are made of, nothing substantial, no substance of tide flows

In or out of love, in or out of veins, bloody feelings seem to be all there is, either to be or not

Nobody knows, philosophers and priests pretend to know, the sheeple’s need to be a robot.

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Thursday March 28th, 2019 A.D. @ 7:35 PM PST

{ drafted while listenin’ to Joe Satriani “LIVE” #AlwaysWithMeAlwaysWithYout youTube link @ https://youtu.be/BsJisD7n8_Q }

 

 FINIS

#NightFreaks #BallsToTheWalls #ThePoynterSisters

NIGHT FREAKS, EYES & HIGHBALLS

by

Richard Joseph Stephan · Thursday, March 28, 2019

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What it does to fight back, urges to meet your true self’s Oneness, drunk, mid-field of dreams

That you will know before the sixty seconds of the New York minute flies by in cyber-streams

I ain’t kidding, there can never be another doubt, it’s all about how many years pass Go, see?

I’m not sorry you’re findin’ this all out later in life, there never was a secret, you flew over me.

I won’t put myself in your place, that’d be a rude thing to do, I’ve got manners from mating

Early training to excrete in the proper, civilized manner was most helpful to attract dating

Ready for the simple and complex to occur and awaiting my logical response to the causes

Being able to explain my personal flaws in behavior is my forte, it ain’t my fault, Ma’s & Pa’s.

Resistance to the concentration on the Truth and accepting fantasies of reasons for being One

That is all that keeps you here, surviving and striving for the food, the clear water, quenched

Backpack of the animals with hands an feet, not claws and paws, rules of the code, Adam’s I

Nothing makes sense if you follow the syllogistic logic, premises assumed lead to solid Ends.

My mama told me that my daddy did some things to her that caused me to be here, I believed

Notions here, to the ones who think they’re gifts from the gods, Yahweh, Ala or damned Dead

Your hands confiscate the Truth, amend it and accept it until your final gasp of oxygen’s fill

Then, you’ll know extinction’s ghetto and never be embarr-assed by a Void’s contracept-Pill.

Begin the trip, afoot come the thoughts and inventions of work, causes and effects of Life

In a cell’s DNA or a man’s or woman’s heart and soul, comprehend without matter’s wife

Energy flowing from a burning ball of gas, a star called Sol, Uncle Sam’s big sister of damn

Nothing particular and everything in general comes from this and that, you name it Sam.

Manipulating the thoughts of the dreams you can never remember while Nation conscious

That’s the easy part, getting the stubborn jackass to move forward with a massive load, us

Brief moments in the maze going forward, backward, sideways, up and down, copped a feel

Dreams that moved a desire to homogenize homo-sapiens’ orgasm orgy for Buddah’s heel.

Lovers’ haters come and go without any warning that I ever pay any attention to, so, my #Bad

Unintentional, I got priorities of attention, things I can do something about, I forget to so sad

Out of control my Breath’s Death, how can I suppose that my Life would be under my powers

To be or not, that is all I can think, therefore, I am what I am, babies ain’t mine, they’re hers!

by

r j j stephan, i

c. Thursday March 28th, 2019 A.D. @ 7:11 AM PST

{ drafted listenin’ to Curtis Mayfield #SweetExorcist on youTube link to #KungFu & HITS link @ https://youtu.be/1X3-DqUve08 }

 FINIS