Friday, December 23, 2011

To God

"To God"


To God A Second Lasts For Eternity.

The Universe Is Full Of Seconds In The Giant Pinhead.

In God's Eyes The World Is Blind.

God Speaks Only Braille.

A Gifted Few Comprehend God's Words.

God Travels In The Mind's Imagery.

God Hesitates and Hates To Be Late For A Date With Fate.

God Doesn't Send A Letter Without A Return Address.

Find Me Love--

I'm Not Hiding!

Love A Friend!!

Love The World!!

LUV AND POWER FLOWER!!!


By J. Billet



B4


"B4"


B4 time had began and after it ended, cars' headlights' shades were running across my windows, on my basement's floor, while we were making love.  Outside, people were walking as the dark, black, sky rolled on by.  The moon wasn't showing, and stars were flickering on and off again like a dying firefly.  This happened with the rest of the world when it was very high on vodka and rye.



By J. Billet's J's

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Pee In The Sea


"Pee In The Sea"


I Swim Singing
In A Key Of C
While
Swimming In
The Sea Of
Orange Tea.
The Fishes
Drink The
Orange Tea
And Pee Into A
Sea Of
Tranquility! 


- J. Billet

Tuesday, December 13, 2011


Breathing dirty purple air and 
bathing in HBO bottles.

Drinking toilet gin and smoking
bathroom pipes.

Got picked up by the Federal 
Bureau Of Intoxication.

Worked at The Department of
Detoxification and Water Purification

I'm downstream in the mainstream 
of society.

Are you all right? Is everything out
of sight?

Am I necking too tight?

I'm caught in the shadows riding
on my sneaker's bicycle.

I've got to catch the 3:30 tricycle to Trinidad.

Here a moron's screams in
my dreams.

Translucent, transparent, shapes and 
shadows are dancing on the bedroom's ceiling.

Leprechauns and neocons!

I'm hooked on prozac,
zantac, and cipro of ceylon!

I've met a thousand clowns in 20 million towns.  I'm at a dozen places with different faces.  Skipped over miles of heartbeats.  My claim to fame is I don't know my own name.  Don't even know if I'm here - time of day or day of year.


End - Jonathan Billet
11/19/09
A gurl was walkin2 skewl wit her bf n they were crossin da rode.
she sed "bbz wil u luv me 4evr"
he said "NO.."
da gurl cryed N ran across da rode b4 da green man came on the sine.
boy was cryin and went to pic up her body.
she was ded.
he whsipered 2 her corpse
"I ment 2 sey I will luv u FIVE-ever....."
(dat men he luv her moar dan 4evr....)

REGLAOGB IF U CREY
ALWAZ...XXX

- Anonymous

Dreamt

"Dreamt"


"The Other Nite I Saw U Madly Dancin.  I Was Wonderin' If It Was A Rain Dance.  Your Face Was Werin' A Mask And Yu Was Smilin'.  Waz I Dreamin?"


Jon Billet

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

A Winter's Thaw


"A Winter's Thaw"




Happiness, Sadness, Gladness, and Madness.

Does love have right or wrong?

Rhyme or reason?

It has every season.

Is it a circle?

A square?

Are squares triangles?

Are circles square?

Triangles rectangles?

Are they transparent?

Translucent?

Opaque?

Is there a hereafter?

A thereafter hereafter?

What you don't know won't hurt you at all.

After all, a summer comes before a fall.

It knows everything's all.

A fall's chill turns into a winter freeze.

I got down on my knees and prayed for a lazy summer breeze.

Swapping tales and telling lies.

Beach pails, sun supplies, and starfish's shells in the ocean's skies with you.

You are as heavy as a 55' Bel Air Chevy.

Opening your purse's latch to enter the snatch with my giant wooden latch.

You're my cupid doll's flaming match with a pants' patch.

Always covering your snatch.

By Jonathan Billet

Thursday, December 1, 2011

After A Rain It Shines

"After A Rain It Shines"


What is to befall us?

There is a blind-spot when the sun hides the moon and the night hides the dry skies.


Dawn's dusk cries.

Truth never lies, but it dies.

With every new revolution is a baby's heartbeat.

A new sound and time.

Love is here to stay forever.

The deafening roar of millions will be silenced by quiet solitude.

A new heartbeat will be heard.

Beautiful, refreshing, harmony's musical song.

Where all live and thrive.

Gracias a Dios!!!!!


J.Billet
I am a bohemian Bostonian.

Love New England clam chowder that talks.

As a kid, I ate New York clam chowder.

Better than swiss chocolate's powder which can't power a locomotion.

I'm always running out of my shaving lotion.

An implosion of an explosion in a quotation by the Chairman Mayor.

He's the smooth sayer.

A real player.

Who wouldn't do you a favor.

But he's not a payer or payee; his salary comes for free.

It's like a poker chip.

Give you a tip.

Don't let him give you the whip.

Take a trip to another city that has more pity than His Honor's.


J.Billet

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Mellow Jello

"Mellow Jello"


If I dreamt Saturday was Sunday and only Wednesday and Friday knew for sure.
If blue thought pink was mellow, would this be bullying?
What does green do?
What do the other colors think?
What would they think if they were you?
If we are all invisible in the eyes of God?
If it rained and snowed in different colors?
If a store has a back door.
Does it's ceilings have doors too?
Do the walls have doors coming out of them?
Do the floors have doors?
Is there a place where a run-on street never ends?
Graffiti-covered sidewalks with different colored artwork painted on them.
A town with many colored buildings from green to blue.
Do people wear their pants inside-out?
Outside-in?
Upside-down?
Shirts for pants?
Pants for shirts?
Bras around their necks?
Underwear worn on heads.
Mouthwash for hair tonic's growth?
Shaving cream as toothpaste?
Toothpaste as shaving cream?
Birds that buzz and bees that sing?
Cars yelling and people honking at each other.
If the paintings in the museums were facing the walls?
If you had to sit upside down on seats?
Eat from the table sideways?
If you sat on your head and walked on your hands?
If your shoe heals were made of lead?
If the world was made out of lead?
If you breathed in air and ate from dirt.
If mice were orange, yellow, pink and blue.
If your eyes were orange, purple, black, or grey?
Silver or gold?
If we woke up at night and went to bed during the day?
If butterflies ran on mood power and were starlit?
If coffee beans were white?
If piss turned into water and water turned into wine.




Jonathan Billet

Thursday, November 24, 2011

The NY Television Set


“The NY Television Set”


A happening may be when the TV shows film commercials being destroyed.

Then burning the networks’ fall line-ups, live, on the air.

Did Dr. Phil meet Dr. Oz The Wizard?

See the strange people wearing orange gloves on their hands and feet?

Yellow and black striped, purple spotted, polka dotted bell-bottoms.

Blue shoes, with green fedoras and a white silk shirt.

Sucking on rainbow colored lollipops.


By Jonathan Billet

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

"Billy got so lonely that he wanted to give his first true love a back massage in the nude."

Jonathan Billet
"Billy felt like kissing her bare feet."

Jon Billet
"I am a numerical nothing named Mr. Nobody."

Johnny Foo-foo

Speaking Life

"Speaking Life"




You who love life laugh quietly and cry loudly.


I wish the world wasn't as afraid of itself as I am of myself.


My clarinet playing, banjo strumming sweetness.


Your hummingbird's tune is as unique as the rarest of all finds.


You capture souls with your strength, courage, knowledge, and beauty.


I wish I could be one of you.


You feed my starving body full of joy, forgiveness, and happiness.


Your beauty's colors create new skies in my eyes.


You are love.


Love is all.


Tรบ amรณ.




J. Billet to A. Dudet

Saturday, November 19, 2011

"Bad News: We're Really Not Here And Neither Is Night Fall."
"No - God Does Play Dice With The Universe. God Plays A Mean Game Of Pong Ping In Quantum Leaps With It Too."

Tuesday, November 15, 2011


“Time’s tempo is the tick-tock of a heartbeat’s clock.”

- Billy
"I can't draw a straight line but I can write a pretty good one."
- Billy

A Rhythmical Rhododendron's Rhapsody


“A Rhythmical Rhododendron’s Rhapsody”



Life lost for seconds, hours, days, or years.

Oh, priceless and precious day of sighted sound.

Sunshines and copper moons.

Silver stars and a red mars.

A tomorrow’s tunes in next week’s noon’s clock.

It calls for singing.

A cantor’s song.

Harmonies for thought.

Thinking colors of a time.

A rhapsody of a rhododendron’s rocking rhyme.


J. Billet

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

My Divorce


“My Divorce”


I’m sleepwalking in the middle of the day.

Eyes wide open at night.

There was fire in the sun and we made love.

Clean up the fire and quench my thirsty desire.

Tremendous explosions heat my head in your bed.

It’s like I’m made out of tons of dead lead.

I know you think I was a snore of a farting roar.

One barfy, boisterous, bickering, bad breath's bore.

The tongue's canker sore.

Now I'm down and out, pacing the floor, with a different set of keys and a new front door.


Jon Billet
Divorced from the world.

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Quotable

"Poverty sucks."


Col. Corn Flake

Letter from a priest

Dear Jonathan,


Once again I thank you for your poetry. You are truly gifted and I thank my God and yours for your life. Keep dreaming, musing and writing. You will be blessed abundantly. I am off again- this time to Texas for 2 weeks. 


Peace,
Frank

Elmo Lewis


"Elmo Lewis"


Elmo Lewis was a Rolling Stone on the wrong telephone.

The sun blocked its shadow.

Last night a full gold moon arose.

At the institute, Anonymous Bosch bit Vincent Van Gogh's toes to spite his nose.

A dead beat's Halloween.

The sober wind howls and blows.

The tunes flows to the rhythms of the singing in the back row at the show.

The junkies all overdose.

Smelling salts wake up the sleeping people praying at the Steeple.

A dreaded designer dog dines on delightful dinners.

Today, tomorrow was yesterday's Saturday.

Saturday turned to Sunday following last Monday.

My bluesday's birthday.


J. Billet's alias Anonymous Bosch

Friday, October 28, 2011

Karma and Dharma

Destiny was determined by a date with fate.

I met the barista at the methadone clinic and she told me the seconds we spent in the bath having a laugh were priceless to her.

We pulled up to the Esso Station where miles of our monotonous minutes were spent singing songs with yesterday’s horns.

I saw her at Aroma and told her I was addicted to the sixties.

She put her head on my shoulders and said, “you’ll be okay.”

I heard sweet lullabies in her eyes.

Throw my thoughts in the garbage.

The sanitation crew picks them up, recycles them, and then they are sent to Spain.

Am I a deadbeat poet from a newly born generation trying to capture his words with a butterfly net?

Will I ever grow up?

Flying and glowing like a fairy firefly.

I have traveled many miles in 20 years of thinking, and grown several inches too!

Do I juggle pumpkins at the town circus?

Will I ever share sweet tears with the world?

No funciono bien!

No tengo baterias.


Jonathan Billet

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Obvious Obsession

"Obvious Obsession"



I is noivous in the office waiting room.


Waiting for the nurses to spread jelly on my belly to look for stones!


"I am a dead-beat poet and I know it!"


What did she mean by that one?


Sure, I dig for a life.


I wish people would stop digging me.


I'm a digger.


A-type beedle.


Quit digging me!


Bye, bye, Missy!


The designer wears red soles on his shoes.


He doesn't even know what color his townspeople in France color their toe nails!


U R A Squaw I Named Silver Crow Who Rides On - Golden Horse's Back.


There Will Always Be A Place In My Teepee's Heart For You - Thunderbird.


COUNTER REVOLUTION AROUND THE CLOCK?
DO THE HULA HOOP OR THE HOPSCOTCH WITH ME?
I MISSED THE WASHING MACHINE'S REVOLUTION BY 9 MONTHS.
I MUST BE PART OF AN INSURGENCY.
TO QUOTE THE OLD MAN, "A COLLECTION IS A PAYMENT. - NOTHING IS FREE."


I'LL WRITE AND RECYCLE SOME OF THIS GARBAGE AND SEND IT PAR AVION TO YOU.



j. billet's

Split Bit

"Split Bit"




My banana malt split its bits wits through its slits.


The shooting stars made a direct hit from Mars.


How much is our love worth?


All the pleasures we enjoy on this earth.


Treasures treasured in day-lit nights.


Everything we can compare in our universal share.


Sing a song of lustful joy.


The ultimate ecstatic dream in its heights is a supreme extreme.


A purple cloud hiding the moon's light.


Sheer delight!


A green, metal, teakettle will soon heat and whistle a new tune in an afternoon's June.


We are floating on a helium balloon around the moon.


Made love in your apartment's beautiful room.




By Jonathan Billet

Traveling

"Traveling"



We traveled from Constantinople to Grand Cairo.

Saw the rainforest in New Zealand.

The batteries in my car ran out of electricity.

I prayed at a Synagogue made of cedar wood on Christmas Eve.

We sacrificed to golden statues in Hollywood while the children of Liberia starved.

Can hear the flames blow while trees grow magically slow.

El mundo conticence omnes intentique era tenanabant.

A giant whale swallowed 1.000 ducats 400 fathoms below the ocean floor.

I was above taking a Holland-American cruise tour.

Scorpions hung flies from a barnyard's ceiling on gibbets.

I shot them down with my sling shot.

30,000 miles from Neptune rests a planted made of #8 billiard balls.

Where the orange and black ladybug crawls.

I climbed back to earth on a rope made of hemp.

Are we all Russian spies in Bigfoot's private eyes?


By Jonathan Billet 10/17/11

Friday, October 21, 2011

My Little Head


"My Little Head"


At night, he sees multi-colored lights.

Never frights, but has his flights.

Life is his fight.

Stars blind his bright darkness.

Shadows in his skies light up night skies.

There's something to be said for this little head.

He's alive, yet knows many who are dead.

He's still listening to what they said.

He'd rather be himself instead.

Life to him is not heard but read.

He stays well fed.

Is comfortable in his mind's bed full of lead on his meds.


j.billet's 10/18/11

My Lone Mountain Girl

"My Lone Mountain Girl"


Pearls for swine

Mother Earth's wine

We were always raving and misbehaving.

Love we made Lonely Mountain's orphan girl.

Like the Duke and Duchess of Earl.

We shared ice-cream Sundays full of vanilla, chocolate, banana, and strawberry fruit twirl.

All in a swirl.

Oh! What a whorl.

I had you for a wife.

But our love, like most, ended in rife.

Now I am a fief in that world's miserable life.


By Jonathan Billet


Spontaneous Reaction


"Spontaneous Reaction"


Twisted arms

Twisted legs

Twisted minds are dead.

Twisted feet.

Twisted chairs and twisted covered sheets in twisted seats.

Twisted trees like twisted knees swim in partially parted seas.

Circus fleas are always coping please in a twisted jail where they never make bail.

Crossed electrical wires start Holiday fires.

We are all sellers and buyers.

Midnight flyers.

Ashes in funeral pyres.

Muck in mires of mud.

You’re always bathing in the orange-blue soap suds.

Is it up to date to be late in your living fate?

I adore living in it after and before.


By Jonathan Billet

Friday, October 14, 2011

My Days


"My Days"


       Eyes Slurry

                                 Speech Blurry


Was a beat artist in the 50's.

Drank too much acid rain in the 60's - Shower Power!

Only wished yesterday was tomorrow.

Saw stuff through my ears and heard things with my eyes.

I have a problem with sounds.

The brothers of the earth are bananas for their monkeys.

P.S. - A thought for the day keeps the doctor away.

P.S.S. - Smiling everyday keeps the blues away.

An idiots idioms:

"A second at a time."
"If you are not part of a problem you must be part of a solution."
"Where were you when the pimples broke out?"


After the rain falls, my lover calls.  

Life can be a hard caller -
Sometimes I feel 10 feet small - other times taller.  
Winter snows fall as a baby learns to crawl.  
Without love, we would be nowhere at all.  
I'm writing on supermarket walls,
flying paper planes in museum halls,
as I walk under the Oregonian waterfalls.
In Suburbia, NY, Everything's still in Shitsville.


To My Old Doll Pag.
By And Love Jonathan Billet

Friday, October 7, 2011

A Place In Space




"A Place In Space"


I climb Jacob's ladder to the moon and back down again.

A wine connoisseur was on the earth's vineyard picking frozen grapes.

I have traveled a long way to get where I'm going.

The womb is eternal.

Life's a precious, given gift and death a permanent state of mind.

Like time, it comes and goes.

Floats and flows in everlasting streams of dreams.

To live is to love in a trance of romance.

It's always time to discover a new beat.

So give me 20 hands and feet.

Make love then repeat.

We will dance a dance in summer's heat.

A molten lava's plume in an afternoon's tomb. 

Tell me who you think I am.

I'll tell you who you are.

A stellar universe.

We are both in an Acela's race through time and space.

Very hot!

Are we not?






By Jonathan Billet 10/05/10

Monday, October 3, 2011

Cupcake's Shop

"Cupcake's Shop"


 I look into your eyes and see you in mine.

Mine in yours.

Pick up your love everywhere.

Can feel it, taste it, touch it, borrow it, and steal it.

You're worth all the world's costly goods.

Want to kiss your feet.

God's special treater, but tastier and sweeter.

Yet, you borrow for a stealing and give for a living.

Take me on your mind's travels.

Wherever you may go away, in my heart you will be to stay.

Echoed spoken words we spare can't compare to the love we share.

Empty silent time's space in this lonely place.

Shadows in your beautiful eyes reflect the light night summer's dawn skies in their orange highs.


All my loves thrill.
J. Billet

The NY Television Set

"The NY Television Set"




A happening may be when the TV shows film commercials being destroyed.


Then burning the networks' fall line-ups, live, on the air.


Did Dr. Phil meet Dr. Oz the Wizard?


See the strange people wearing orange gloves on their hands and feet?


Yellow and black striped, spotted purple polka-dotted bell bottoms.


Blue shows with green fedoras and a white silk shirt.


Sucking on rainbow colored lollipops.




By Jonathan Billet

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

To Steve


"To Steve"


A Jade Buddha picked me up in his taxicab.

We drove to The Hilly City across The Red Bridge's Golden Bay.

He told me The Divine Being's heart was full of joy and contentment.

Not unlike those of the enlightened few.

The Wise One has a soul full of knowledge and tolerance.

Through love's strength comes eternal wisdom and peace.

The Buddha let me go pursue my travels to Tibet.

It was there where I found My Sage's Monastery on a Himalayan Mountaintop.


Jonathan Billet

Sacred Season's Life

"Sacred Season's Life"



Just started writing poetry and will never finish with any degree of success.

Winter's words are frozen and summer ones are burnt.

Spring and fall are so beautiful, they can't be disguised in words.

They make me too lazy to write about them.

Want to lie down and bask in their beauty.

Here I lie in my non-existent days, listening to my dybbuk's piping music.

Sleeping, I see myself on an operating table, while in a dream and writing to you.


Jonathan Billet

Sleep

"Sleep"



The fall makes me want to fall asleep in brown leaves.

That's why it's called fall.

It's a call to fall asleep with mother nature.

Like my mother took her final sleep in the autumn's rest place.

On the shelf is a shadow of shade.

White particles of filtered sunlight are blocked by a philodendron plant.

Books are collecting dust and resting lazily in a haphazardly manner.

The sunlight hits them at a bent angle.

I love the beautiful, deep, dark, mystery of fall.




By Jonathan Billet
"A monk in a funk is a funky monkey."

-Jonathan Billet

Monday, September 26, 2011

Hidden Shadows


"Hidden Shadows"
 


Do Shadows hide behind doors?
Under floors?
Above the walls?
Through our keyholes?
Are they transmitted on telephone lines?
Did you get a feeling that objects were blocking the sun's shadows?
Or even your own silhouette?
Who are you?
Who am I?
Is Oui us?
Who are we?
What is God?
What is earth?
Are we made of God's artwork?
Statues with motion and movement?
Emotions with laughter and tears?  
Are we a dream?
A daydream?
God's dream?
A dog's dream?
Part of someone else's dream?
A violent storm with ups and downs?
Do we bounce and not walk?
Do we slide?
Let things go?
Born again yesterday.
Quite new!
Like winter's shivering cold snow?
Colors red and purple?
Head for your comforting warmth of shelter and heat.
I can see only through my naked eyes.
We are all naked in the eyes of God.
All of God's creatures are naked.
Naked they talked, walked, slept, and lived.
Black mirrors reflect the earth's darkness.
Hidden shadows reflected everything.
Can you see yourself in your own shadow?
Mine?
Ours?


By Jonathan Billet

Saturday, September 17, 2011

My deepest sympathies to the Kennedy family on behalf of beloved Kara. 
The spirit will always live on in my life.

Love,
 Jonathan Billet

Clinged Starchy


"Clinged Starchy"

Life goes by so quickly, you can't see the money pass.
Dylan was right - Money don't cuss - it cries.
People walk down Wall Streets in their dresses smoking cigars - chatting to themselves.
Even thought I saw Bush and Obama holding hands on Main Street in Centerville.
Dancing to a tune by a Bubble Gum Rapper Named Elvis.
Did the Tennessee Waltz in the ocean God made with his pee.
Drowned by God's tears in my laughter -
Swam from N.Y. to China and back in the tears.
Got pissed off.
Peed on too.
Whoever you are, I'm sorry I'm so crazy.
Making a living, while never for giving or getting.
I feel sorry for myself.
I'm happy with the blues.
I know I'm wrong -
Please try and forgive.
I always knew you were greater than you claimed to be.
Your greatness was my weakness.
Try to understand.
Thanks God.
Love a friend named Billet's
 
By Jonathan Billet
Modified Starchy 9/14/11 

Friday, September 16, 2011

Untitled Poem


"Untitled Poem"

No sounds were heard, not even chirping birds.
Not heaven's spoken words.
He sees things - but who doesn't?

The roaring of the ocean is silent and He strains to listen.
He doesn't even listen.

Drunker then hell and stoned sober at the same time.
If it wasn't for The Mother's Father - Life would not know Him.

He believes colors have their own sounds.
And the colors are music to his ears.

He's out in the cold - teeth chattering and face turning blue.
To Him the robin is red.
Leaves are purple.
The soil is blue.

And buildings are a different hue in his view.
The sky is in black and white like the television in the sites.
Up, up, and away are his flights with many colors' lights.

To Him the blood he feels through His veins is all in other brains.
It is as grey as this cloudy day.

He loves to be held.
Laughs when He is.

To Him life is a dream He can't understand.
His wish is my demand!
He's really not interested in such matters.

He loves the world unlike many of his brothers and sisters.
This child of mine is happy that He can eat.
Satisfied to stay cool when it's hot and warm when it's cold.

God loves you my beautiful one!


Billet - dedicated to a most loved one. 
Sunday - June 19th.

Untyping Written Writing



"Untyping Written Writing"


I take away all the licenses from kids who run lemonade stands and support the bums who use squeegee sponges to wash dirty cars.  Smoke my cigar while eating caviar from a mayonnaise jar.  I am resting my head on a pillow and sun tanning myself on a bench in Westchester County.  My Mac was fried at McDonald's and I bumped into Harry Burrito on Chatsworth Avenue.  In the summertime heat I'm like a Polar Bear getting a chilly reception at all the ice cream shops in suburbia. I'm always running to the local bank to get my free supply of pens.  I love to flick my Bic, as I can't afford a Mont Blanc like all the big shot executives.


Oh me! Oh my! Come si, come รงa. Ra Ta, Ta.  God Ra!  How far do we go?  Let our garden grow! We're painting the sun just for fun.  Chair is picking at my rear and my nose is so red, it could explode.  Life is not to be taken seriously, but with a grain of pepper, which will make all the noses blow up.  Blow up in my face, then I'd be in another place in this outer space.  I hate the masters' race.  They have problems concentrating and belong in summer camps for the winter.


Doc, perform an anal-ectomy on my head and try to find a brain.  At vocational school I wanted to be a cowboy, a ship's captain, or an Indian chief.  I didn't know the difference and still can't understand it.  This life is like a libation in a movie's cartoon animation.  P.S. Don't try opening windows with bent forks.


Dedicated to Jake
From Jon Billet