"N.Y.C. & S.F. - Park Bench."
Lying on a park bench, dreaming drunkenly, on bottles of Bicardi 151.
In a stupor, whispering senseless, secret nothings, confidentially, to herself.
Bright, white hair and yellow, rotting, decaying tooth.
She is awake and staring at the sky incoherently.
Clutching on plastic bags and the bench's handrails to sit up.
Expressionless, she gets up and walks on one of the twisted, curving, paths.
This will get her nowhere quickly.
She is in a rush to get there.
The universe will start anew if she ever does.
By Jon Billet
Friday, September 11, 2015
Chains Of Labor
"Chains Of Labor"
I will not have redemption.
I have gone beyond the point of transgressing.
My sin was the killing of an innocent man.
I'll always believe he was me.
His family will never forgive me.
Now I am an outcast among the ones who loved me.
Help me, almighty with this weight.
There is one consolation.
My rock and redeemer will always be by my side.
"Rock my soul in the bosom of Abraham, oh rock my soul."
In this state, for what I have done, they will inject me with poison.
I hear the walls tumbling down and I know this is the end of my life.
Say farewell to my three kids and wife.
I am complacent in a world rife with strife.
By Jonathan Billet-08/25/2015
I will not have redemption.
I have gone beyond the point of transgressing.
My sin was the killing of an innocent man.
I'll always believe he was me.
His family will never forgive me.
Now I am an outcast among the ones who loved me.
Help me, almighty with this weight.
There is one consolation.
My rock and redeemer will always be by my side.
"Rock my soul in the bosom of Abraham, oh rock my soul."
In this state, for what I have done, they will inject me with poison.
I hear the walls tumbling down and I know this is the end of my life.
Say farewell to my three kids and wife.
I am complacent in a world rife with strife.
By Jonathan Billet-08/25/2015
Moonglow's Stardust
"Moonglow's Stardust"
The eyes, a hazel indigo glow.
An azure amarilla.
Moonglow's stardust.
The backward thrust of time traveling in a room.
Better left undone than done to soon.
Soon it will be the moon's June in a truly talented tune.
Traveling in violet's yellow balloon.
For a dime and a song.
This is all wrong.
Right?
Just hug me tight, well into a starry night.
Dedicated to A Duddette's.
By Jonathan Billet 02.28.14.
The eyes, a hazel indigo glow.
An azure amarilla.
Moonglow's stardust.
The backward thrust of time traveling in a room.
Better left undone than done to soon.
Soon it will be the moon's June in a truly talented tune.
Traveling in violet's yellow balloon.
For a dime and a song.
This is all wrong.
Right?
Just hug me tight, well into a starry night.
Dedicated to A Duddette's.
By Jonathan Billet 02.28.14.
Pink Car Bar
"Pink Car Bar"
Singing on a full moon.
Listening to my tune.
In late noon.
Thirsty birds gets intoxicated from a rain-filled spittoon.
You were high in a silver spoon.
It drove me to drink and ruin.
Be in heavenly sleep soon.
By Jonathan Billet - 09/10/15
Singing on a full moon.
Listening to my tune.
In late noon.
Thirsty birds gets intoxicated from a rain-filled spittoon.
You were high in a silver spoon.
It drove me to drink and ruin.
Be in heavenly sleep soon.
By Jonathan Billet - 09/10/15
A Rocker
"A Rocker"
Living in a world that might be blind.
Has no sight or mind.
Others may have left it behind.
Lost in the eyes of the law.
Found in the hearts of the enlightened.
Misplaced to most.
Is it a dream?
No, it's magic.
A world of make believe.
It can't be touched or seen by any.
Heard by plenty.
Senses the many.
Realized by some.
Recognized by a few.
You are too.
Life will start anew.
The time to start is past overdue.
By Jonathan Billet 9/11/15
Living in a world that might be blind.
Has no sight or mind.
Others may have left it behind.
Lost in the eyes of the law.
Found in the hearts of the enlightened.
Misplaced to most.
Is it a dream?
No, it's magic.
A world of make believe.
It can't be touched or seen by any.
Heard by plenty.
Senses the many.
Realized by some.
Recognized by a few.
You are too.
Life will start anew.
The time to start is past overdue.
By Jonathan Billet 9/11/15
Purple House
"Purple House"
The woman has purple paisley eyes.
Living in the psychedelic skies.
Life doesn't last and goes by fast.
Dies in its highs.
It's really a beautiful secret's disguise.
My angel flies in the colorful skies.
The world lets out its sad sighs.
For her it cries.
She doesn't laugh, but you can hear her silently scream.
Never has a plot in her scheme.
As transparent as it may seem.
My wishes imaginary dream.
It will always be a gains, loss.
Gain what you lose.
My eyes blink.
Showing a wink.
I'm bathing in a sink.
Clouds roll by as they weep in night's sleep.
I am here without any concern or fear.
While all my friends drink beer.
One never knows what will next reappear or disappear.
For you, I shed a tear.
While life's pinball machines loses its flippers.
In this months heart throb skippers.
Underneath the orange moon.
Later then soon.
Jonathan Billet-09/10/15
The woman has purple paisley eyes.
Living in the psychedelic skies.
Life doesn't last and goes by fast.
Dies in its highs.
It's really a beautiful secret's disguise.
My angel flies in the colorful skies.
The world lets out its sad sighs.
For her it cries.
She doesn't laugh, but you can hear her silently scream.
Never has a plot in her scheme.
As transparent as it may seem.
My wishes imaginary dream.
It will always be a gains, loss.
Gain what you lose.
My eyes blink.
Showing a wink.
I'm bathing in a sink.
Clouds roll by as they weep in night's sleep.
I am here without any concern or fear.
While all my friends drink beer.
One never knows what will next reappear or disappear.
For you, I shed a tear.
While life's pinball machines loses its flippers.
In this months heart throb skippers.
Underneath the orange moon.
Later then soon.
Jonathan Billet-09/10/15
A MIND OF ITS OWN
"A MIND OF ITS OWN"
"AND I THOUGHT THERE WAS SOMETHING TO THIS CLAIRVOYANCE BUSINESS!"
BY JONATHAN BILLET
"AND I THOUGHT THERE WAS SOMETHING TO THIS CLAIRVOYANCE BUSINESS!"
BY JONATHAN BILLET
Wednesday, September 9, 2015
Bee Stinger
"Bee Stinger"
I'll always be a big mama's boy.
A honey bee stung me in my knee.
The pain that the stinger sent the body was good therapy for the mind.
If you believe that, you're as stupid as the day is long.
A bee sting isn't a real thing.
Merely a figment of your mind's imagination.
Things that hurt you are too.
Any bee stinger is a dreaming singer.
To pollinate so we can breathe.
Also for protection of the queen and her honey.
A million dollar's worth of sweet smelling oxygen.
By Jonathan Billet-09/08/2015 -
I'll always be a big mama's boy.
A honey bee stung me in my knee.
The pain that the stinger sent the body was good therapy for the mind.
If you believe that, you're as stupid as the day is long.
A bee sting isn't a real thing.
Merely a figment of your mind's imagination.
Things that hurt you are too.
Any bee stinger is a dreaming singer.
To pollinate so we can breathe.
Also for protection of the queen and her honey.
A million dollar's worth of sweet smelling oxygen.
By Jonathan Billet-09/08/2015 -
Poetic Play
"Poetic Play"
A turtle who hibernates in its well.
Will soon come out of its shell.
The world is now in the fragrant, sweet, smell of spring.
It awakens to the ring of a church bell.
Chimes nine times.
In its wondrous day.
That dances to a romantic sway.
Like life is a poetry song in its own way.
All daylight long song.
Night of sight.
Inspiring imagination's creativity.
Through the morning mist I may see with cosmic clarity.
I am beyond the sea of tea.
In the key of B.
Nobody lets it be free.
With the exception of me.
The trumpet will blow out a horn's tune at the three of clocks' noon.
It is blown on the full moon.
By Jonathan Billet
A turtle who hibernates in its well.
Will soon come out of its shell.
The world is now in the fragrant, sweet, smell of spring.
It awakens to the ring of a church bell.
Chimes nine times.
In its wondrous day.
That dances to a romantic sway.
Like life is a poetry song in its own way.
All daylight long song.
Night of sight.
Inspiring imagination's creativity.
Through the morning mist I may see with cosmic clarity.
I am beyond the sea of tea.
In the key of B.
Nobody lets it be free.
With the exception of me.
The trumpet will blow out a horn's tune at the three of clocks' noon.
It is blown on the full moon.
By Jonathan Billet
Lightning Bug
"Lightning Bug"
My eyes are blinded by star lights.
Morning, evening, and nights.
Phosphorescent electric lightning bugs turn on and off in the moon's glow.
Leftovers from the department are very poor.
Used shoes give me the blues when I go down from the ladder.
Mothers in the gutters have a tattoo's signed behind.
Find it in your mind's sign.
We are at the low and it is very slow.
For the cash that you will pay.
If you decide to stay.
While I play as the world must pray.
By Jonathan Billet
09/02/15
My eyes are blinded by star lights.
Morning, evening, and nights.
Phosphorescent electric lightning bugs turn on and off in the moon's glow.
Leftovers from the department are very poor.
Used shoes give me the blues when I go down from the ladder.
Mothers in the gutters have a tattoo's signed behind.
Find it in your mind's sign.
We are at the low and it is very slow.
For the cash that you will pay.
If you decide to stay.
While I play as the world must pray.
By Jonathan Billet
09/02/15
Tuesday, September 1, 2015
Sitting On My Hands And Legs
"Sitting On My Hands And Legs"
Sitting on a seat looking at the wall as punishment.
For having danced with my feet.
Can feel the crying heat.
While playing on my music's sheet.
Would rather be feeling a woman's teat.
But my life is no such treat.
Maybe I could use swim in Niagara falls when Viagra calls.
Swim into a lake by a rope.
Until you call.
Outside in, a waterfall.
If the trucks don't work, they stall.
My cursed wall is Gus Hall.
Waiting for him to fall.
In a man's shawl.
He wants to be buried in at The Kremlin's wall.
Put Hall back in his wall.
Watch him crawl.
By Jonathan Billet-08/30/2015
Sitting on a seat looking at the wall as punishment.
For having danced with my feet.
Can feel the crying heat.
While playing on my music's sheet.
Would rather be feeling a woman's teat.
But my life is no such treat.
Maybe I could use swim in Niagara falls when Viagra calls.
Swim into a lake by a rope.
Until you call.
Outside in, a waterfall.
If the trucks don't work, they stall.
My cursed wall is Gus Hall.
Waiting for him to fall.
In a man's shawl.
He wants to be buried in at The Kremlin's wall.
Put Hall back in his wall.
Watch him crawl.
By Jonathan Billet-08/30/2015
Music's Magical Mantra
"Music's Magical Mantra"
Good music soothes the soul.
It all depends on what you like.
I like rock n' scroll best.
Some like rhythm and blues others, jazz.
Country and hip hop are also currents.
Folk and rap hits certain spots.
What I haven't mentioned ties the world in knots.
I'll love it until death's grave plots.
It gives me the hots.
"Toys for tots."
Thank lots.
Life dies.
Music never rots.
By Jonathan Billet
A day after the birthday party for A. Dudette- 08/30/2015
A last Saturday lost in August.
Good music soothes the soul.
It all depends on what you like.
I like rock n' scroll best.
Some like rhythm and blues others, jazz.
Country and hip hop are also currents.
Folk and rap hits certain spots.
What I haven't mentioned ties the world in knots.
I'll love it until death's grave plots.
It gives me the hots.
"Toys for tots."
Thank lots.
Life dies.
Music never rots.
By Jonathan Billet
A day after the birthday party for A. Dudette- 08/30/2015
A last Saturday lost in August.
BeforeTime
"BeforeTime"
Before 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 Billet's Jon
Turning Tables
"Turning Tables"
Turn the tables around.
Toss the chairs upside down.
Tear the clouds from the sky.
Pull the moon and stars from their high.
Watch Saturn spin.
The Beatles will flip their Whigs.
As a new world stops revolutions and digs.
Sweet Mary Jane got smoked on an airplane.
All the while, I was going very insane.
Quite inane, all the same.
What did you say was your given name?
I know the game.
You put out my fire's flame.
Which mirrored the sun out of my window pane.
It started to rain as the world was released from its pain.
Really a drain on my brain.
Now I am turning sane.
Once, twice, three times again.
Close your eyes and count to ten.
Then go chew on your Fen Fen.
Love You Andrea! P.S. HAPPY B DAY! You were born on every summer's morn that will be forever...
Turn the tables around.
Toss the chairs upside down.
Tear the clouds from the sky.
Pull the moon and stars from their high.
Watch Saturn spin.
The Beatles will flip their Whigs.
As a new world stops revolutions and digs.
Sweet Mary Jane got smoked on an airplane.
All the while, I was going very insane.
Quite inane, all the same.
What did you say was your given name?
I know the game.
You put out my fire's flame.
Which mirrored the sun out of my window pane.
It started to rain as the world was released from its pain.
Really a drain on my brain.
Now I am turning sane.
Once, twice, three times again.
Close your eyes and count to ten.
Then go chew on your Fen Fen.
Love You Andrea! P.S. HAPPY B DAY! You were born on every summer's morn that will be forever...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)