Monday, March 30, 2015

A Gay Way

"A Gay Way"



What's in a gay lay?

Everything they say.

So stand by me and stay.

For many is the day.

Is this the new way?

I really can't play.

That tune until the mid morning's afternoon.

Next June is too soon.

To pull out an army's platoon.

So spit into a spittoon!

For mankind's family.




By Jonathan Billet       

Looney Tunes I Hear

                          "Looney Tunes I Hear"



Helium and platinum scream.

Like a thick shaving cream.

It is what it may seem.

A reality's fantasia.

Said what it will say.

Waiting for the new day.

In lights' nights.

Orange moon's and true Junes.

All the singing tunes.

You have sung.

With a golden tongue.

All left undone.

Unsung on the golden. ringing, rung.



By Jonathan Billet-03/29/015

Him And Them Should Behave

"Him And Them Should Behave"                            





Living with my dogs & cats on a silver isle.

It's late afternoon and Abigail has come out too soon.

He thinks it pays to be in a daze. 

Yet, he happily jests and plays.

After all, these are Abigail's ways.

He keeps his secrets from no one.

But it's a paying sum.

Something enjoyed in the sun's light.

Why, he thinks, do so many fight?

When they like to cause a wave.

They should behave.

The world is full of falsehoods in its malaise.

The sunshine stays in Abigail's face at its place.

Like runners at their pace.

It's a disgrace.

It never pays.

To the few in inner space.




By Jonathan Billet-03/29/15        

Saturday, March 28, 2015

Green Moon Glow

"Green Moon Glow"




Pluto has three moons to see.

In a miniature green spearmint ice-creamed tea.

Earth's moon's pull is weightless and free.

But living here on earth is full of poop and costly.

It's expensive and hard not to see.

Is it to be?

Or not to me.

A singer without a key.

A stinger without a bee.

A bent knee.

Does the world need cosmetic surgery?

It's got no front and an even bigger back.

Poison, like a cigarette pack.

It belongs in the sack.



By Big Daddy B.
Alias Jonathan Billet

03/28/15

Rain Dancing

                 "Rain Dancing"



Dancing in the rain showers.

During a summer solstice in '15 on the equator at half moon's apartments.

Located on Lake Street in White Plains, New York.

Traveling to Jupiter and Ganymede afterwards.

Eating this moon's vegetation.


A luftmensch sells her wares in the hot sun at the market.

Too much sun soak can cause a heat stroke.

This day is hot or is it not?

Smoking hand rolled Turkish cigarettes.

Getting higher than Hades.

On a full moon while the opera performs.

Despite the summer rain storms.

Predicted for the future.



Nothing will destroy your new day.

Happy Belated B. Day, Rachel!

From Your Friend- Jonathan Billet.


Sometime Too Late In March.     

A POPPING PLASTIC WATER BOTTLE

"A POPPING PLASTIC WATER BOTTLE"





If you listen closely enough you can hear a Poland Spring's
plastic bottle crack, snapple, and pop. Temperature's climate
control of contained water. It's how the weather is controlled
from space. Lightning's electricity being created during a
typhoon's rains' humungous tidal waves. All well done by a
gigantic water bottle. Good remedy for an adult strength hang-
over or a baby's pacifier. It takes very little brainpower to
figure this theory out. It's as dumb as all the rest of mankind's
hypothesis. They are mere figments of somebody's imagination.
Constantly being reinvented like the reason and story behind
creation. How did it really come about and how will it end?
What's life's purpose?  It's true meaning?  You can hear it in
the snap, crackle, and popping plastic bottle of Poland Spring's
Water.




By Captain Moonlight alias Jonathan Billet
03/26/2015

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Sometimes They Say

"Sometimes They Say"



Poverty is gluttony.

Lethargy is wealth.

The world doesn't understand.

It speaks in so many languages.

But how stupid it is.

All the gibberish means the same thing.

People hold it against one another.

Because they look differently, why can't they speak with a different face's mouth?

Their senses are different and they are all really blind.

They can make fun of people who don't exercise their bodies.

By doing so they don't exercise their miniature minds.

No bigger than a worm that can split in half and still live.

It's like they need to strengthen their minds on exercise bicycles.

Like a worm does its body.

The size of a living peanut, are their minds.

I need to go on a banana break like an advanced chimpanzee.

Adding things up like an M.I.T. professor would.

Tao of a dog's brain.

Only smaller and dumber.

Bird shit for a brain.

Mao tao.

Mr. Mayo but hold the onions and cold cuts.

Kim Il Yung for number one fool.

They are living here in the United States' government.

Business players. a

All actors on a stage.

For after all, the whole world is a Globe's stage.

"They clean the executive toilet."

Sometimes they soil their minds' pants.

Did I tell you a riddle is like a fiddle like a rattle is to a paddle?

Makes nonsense all cents and dollar's hollers.

So holler if you love a hundred dollar's worth of chow.

Don't leave it up to dictator Mao.

Start at a beginning not an end.

Come be my friend.


Love You- Jon Billet

03.25.2015

SANITY

                                  "SANITY"




To a sane person life is almost so surreal it seems real.
For the mentally ill person it's so real that it seems to
be unreal.  Reality and how we see it is something all of
us must deal with.  Most people get sanity and insanity
confused with one another.  Letting our minds relax
can only give us the healthy mental and physiological
release we all so desperately need.  Relaxation is the 
key to success.




                      ANONYMOUS

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

A Dream Called You

"A Dream Called You"



A swallowtail flew with me in the puffy clouds.

We got high, as this luftmensch smiled at me in the sky.

Silver butterfly float by, in thin air, on golden wings.

Tears cried for years in my dream.

A spring flower makes the rain shower.

Love loses all of its secret power.

A flower is found the next hour.

As my minds blows, a breeze slows.

I'll be yours in a day or two.

I want you to go through.

Something only you can do.

In a dream again.

Show me so I can see.

Reality or a fantasy to be?

So real it's surreal!

You are now and never forever.



Jon Billet     

The Sass Of My Dreams

"The Sass Of My Dreams"





I rode on a gold train painted with the letter "C" in a phosphorescent indigo.

The sky was in a hazy grey glow.

In a dark, raining, thursday's afternoon, later than someplace in June.

There was a silver white moon whistling a transient tune.

The rings of Saturn all show.

They go and grow.

The cars stopping at all bars.

Holy men strummed and sang on forty string sitars.

Nobody knew how to play on guitars.

As far as I could tell, it was a surreal, heaven's hell.

Crawling out of my shell into a mystical well.

I was cast in a spell.

I heard an alarm clock bell near the bed where I fell.

The woman of my dreams tells me not worry.

The voice of fears closed my ears.

Magical apparitions magicians.

What disappears always reappears.

The West is full of cowboys with silver spears.

The East is full of the immigrant's tears.
                                                                                                   

Colorful language from a radiator that's full of steaming gas.

What comes last in the class. 

Is never any good to sass.



By Jonathan Billet

03/23/15        

Friday, March 20, 2015

Streetcar Number Four

           "Streetcar Number Four"



Colors in the mind.

A light colored sage's brush paints.

A horizon in different shades of hues.

The printed news has many views.

In black and white and white and blues.

A page's number one son of Il Kim Sung.

The Chinese earth doll made out of bright red Georgia clay.

Tomorrow's today's will be reason enough for yesterdays.

I'm looking forward to the day after that.

I stand and sat.

As a hepcat.

Would and should at that.

I am the loudest flautist.

Yell and scream as I play a color scheme.

Rhymes with the times.

So I beg for nickels and dimes.

The mimes are those sublimes.

Mighty fines.



By Jonathan Billet

B4 The Storm-After A Sun Shower.        

Thursday, March 19, 2015

The Fly's Eyes

                "The Fly's Eyes"



A fly's eyes appear to be like miniature golf balls.

I play monopoly's golf.

I really can't see it.

The whole thing was His idea.

Played along in a rhyming song.

The weak don't survive the strong.

Life is all wrong.



By Anonymous- 03/18/2015       

A Tenth Sense Isn't Worth A Dime's Wine

"A Tenth Sense Isn't Worth A Dime's Wine"




A vine holds plenty of tasty rose and lilac wine.

Fine wines change with subway signs.

Old songs are played over and over.

My lover's quarter dime.

Lovely letters mailed.

The reading never failed.

Book burning ages turns with the pages.

Magic by a monk's sages.

Wines under vines.

Ages with the times.

The divine's lines.

Singing song of love.

The tune is very strong from up above.

Poetic lyrics from a joyous humming dove.


By Jonathan Billet
03.17.2015

Blind Alley

"Blind Alley"



The future will be the past's present.

Tomorrow is the present's future.

Yesterday was the present's past.

What will be is past in our wishes' desires.

It's what is wanted by us to put out our fires.

Advertising flyers tell us what we want to hear.

Far away but right near here.

An eye's tear is made in North Korea by fear.

Forward steps to the rear.

Too much beer will give us constipation of diarrhea song.

You will see your past in a looking glass before long.

I never know what you are talking about in the present.

I can't figure how to write it in unspoken words.

Words are for the birds.

Sacred word is always the unheard.

A rare find for one who is partially blind.

Spoken by the signed.

There is no other line to this song's rhyme.



By Jon Billet-
03.17.2015

Pick Me Up

"Pick Me Up"



You pick me up when I feel down.

All of the love you lost I found.

You always come around.

High on life.

Below a southern sky. 

I lie on top of you.

Hear with my ears the sounds you shed with silent tears.

I know throughout the years you will steady my mind's worst fears.

Sounds in touch that we felt in our bodies.

Our love is about the town.

Your rhythmic heartbeat's has a soulful sound.

What is to be, we shall see.

Living for me, pays its costly fee.

Sweet fruit berry for free?

Fantasy's realities.

An insanity's vanity.

For the sane fool.

At the world's school without any rule.

In my fantastic dreams.

So it seems.

Reams of rhymes.

Signs of the times.



By Jon B. or Jon Billet To Andy D.

Rhapsody In Twenty-Five

"Rhapsody In Twenty-Five"  



Are we here?

Everywhere?

Or there?

Nowhere at all.

Here and there.

Elsewhere too.

Not now!

But when?

Better later than never.

Always to be.

Free in our slavery.


Liberty's dime.

Eagle's quarter.

Franklin's half.

Washington's dollar.

A Lincoln five.

How much is it worth?

Everything on earth and nothing at all.

Not large but not small either.


A paltry sum.

To a thumb sucking bum.

In existence by a minuend.

A friend ready to send.

It's a beginning's end.


That never fails.

Whatever helps ails.

Alot of garbage is thrown in the trash pails.

Cheers to hop's ales.


Skip over a hopscotch air chair.

Go and meet a toilet seat.

Don't forget to wash your feet.  

Brush the teeth clean.

And have a chest screen.


By Jonathan Billet

03/16/2015        

Horatio's Lights


"Horatio's Lights"




Dreamt I was on a different flight.

Saw a flashing light.

Time traveled backwards.

A forward thrust saved my life.

That was yesterday and now it's tomorrow.

Today was pitiful and had plenty of sorrow.

Thought I was living on a distant planet's moon.

Woke up from my dream too soon.

One spring's day brunch in the afternoon.

I walked passed a bird bath's silver spittoon.

After writing a tune.


Try again if your dreams don't come to you.

They are sure to come true.

Everything will start anew.

Heavenly earth will renew the fortunate few.




By Jonathan Billet - 03/15/2015

God Is Dead


“God Is Dead”

Grey clouds were soaked with wet moisture.
I heard a burst and felt warm water covering my face.
A sunshine wearily broke through the sky.
My father’s death seems incomprehensible.
My senses are dulled by the thunderclap’s wet tears.
Jonathan Billet AS ANONYMOUS BOSCH
DEAR ANDREA I WAS SAD TO HEAR ABOUT YOUR 

LOSS.-LOVE JON       

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Robin's Song

"Robin's Song"



On a hot afternoon June, before a crescent of the moon, I spit in a spittoon.

Drive my car to a distant star.

Drink plenty of tequila at a Mexican bar.

Walk out of my dreams.

See what seems to be a robin in a cold rain.

Covering her chicks with feathered wing.

As they eat the worms, they begin to sing.

You protect me with your wind's spring.

I bask in your sunshine, a heaven sent wine.

You are divine and sublime like music's rhyme.

Picked long ago from a branch's vine.

I wait for a sign.

Going on a mountain climb.

Acted out by a silent mime.

On stage for the blind.



By Captain Moonlight alias Jonathan Billet
03.10.2015

       

Tuesday, March 10, 2015

Hot Toddy

"Hot Toddy"


Many sizes, colors, and shapes of hats off to Hot Toddy.

My buddy Todd is a hot wire.

Electricity comes out of his talented art.

It is cathartic and causes the world a shock.

Making it go into convulsions of emotions.

He's an excellent mimic in the many actors' voices he throws out.

Never know whose voice he will throw next.

It's a complex mystery in a magical song only he knows how to sing.

In tones never heard before which are in his artwork.

His drawing with crayons hangs in a frame on my wall.

It should be hanging in a museum's hall.

His imitations stand tall and are not at all small.

He, like his mannerisms, plays tricks on my mind.

Magician that he will always be, with his talented ways.

His art piece's talent on my wall deserves accolades.

Made from gifted hands of the mind's heart art in the supernatural.

He works at his craft and serves people their favorite demands.

On his magic's commands.

There is no tough path hard enough for him to travel.

An amazing man of whom I will always be a fan.



To Hot Toddy From Jon Billet

Compilated on 03-06-2015       

Four Score

"Four Score"


Two and two make me blue.

I viewed the heavenly skies from a cage.

Fine wines mellow with age.

As they turn younger, we grow old and die.

Wines' designs on me.

Covering up my fiery thirst's desire.

I was sold by a buyer.

Worked for hire.

Losing my fire on the frozen wire.

I am a flyer.

Can't get any higher.

Wit quenches desire.

So does a heavenly choir.

The artist sage earns minimum wage.

He's in his cage.

Paints colors on canvases halls' walls.

By Jonathan Billet alias Anonymous Bosch

circa 03/08/15        

Singing Songs

                                                "Singing Songs"



Children sing songs.

I right the wrongs.

I missed a poor's tours.

While fighting with the Moors.

I'll hit you with a four by four.

Open all the doors.

Hit the floors.

In the musical scores.

On ancient shores.

Schools for fishy fools.

Duels with forks and knives.

Had plenty of lives.

With foreign wives.

Always played the fool's jives.

Beehives thrive.

In Alabamian skies' highs.

Better quit telling those southern lies.

Life knots all of its ties.

Shepherd pies!

All are nicest with spices and spies.



For Jonathan Billet - 03/05/15

A Mint Tulip

"A Mint Tulip"



Music can play a beautiful tune.
Chanting India's song before the monsoon.
Does it storm in an afternoon June?
Only during a full moon.
The tides turn heavy as it begins to rain.
Turning the world quite insane.
In its pain.
Making living inane for the sane.
Its claim to fame.
The game will always stay the same.
A female name could be the only change.
In life's tricky game.

Baghdad is sad.
The world is absolutely mad.
In my crash pad.
I will rest and retire.
I tire of hell's water's mire.
I never did desire to get caught in the cold fire.
Life is a doer's dire.




By Jon Billet - 03.07.15        

Cameo Roles

"Cameo Roles"



Toilet paper has cameo roles.

So does the Rolls Royce, I drove in once.

An English machine.

Candy got stuck in the way.

I moved out of the neighborhood.

Never got around to telling the neighbors about my movement.

Culture shock is too much for a ratfink.

Man, did it stink.

I had to wash in the sink.

Gave it my wink.

Without my glasses.

Flies are attracted to asses.

The shi* flies as it comes by.

I just give a sigh about the phony wording.

Tony is a phony's baloneys.  

I never met that psychiatrist.

There's so much mierda in the field.

I wonder if I should yield.

To a stoplight's flashing light.

That has no real sight.

Stop the fight with all your might.

Or else we'll get uptight.

About the night light.




By Jonathan Billet_03.04.15.        

Not Spoken

"Not Spoken"



Don't speak of love.

When you don't know its meaning.

It's not what it's seeming.

Your mind needs a cleaning.

I'm not arriving, just leaving.

Underneath it all you're seething.

I'm heaving in heaven.

Should 7 become 11.

I'll know it's really 9:11 a.m.

When you hit the street.

In all of its fiery heat.

Today is Saturday's Thursdays.

In a magical blue haze.

Pull out the book's page.

Rebel against the rage.

Spoken by a long forgotten sage.



By Jonathan Billet

03/04/15        

Superstitious Mirrors

"Superstitious Mirrors"





I don't trust images coming out of the walls.

While I sleepwalk through empty halls.

My mind is a mystery that is too small to see.

In a dream, I thought you were sleeping.

My head opened up and smoke shot out.

A firetruck full of clowns put out the fire.

I drowned in your dreams last Saturday.

You rescued me when I awoke.

You spoke in a joke.

I find myself in the middle of a sleeping night's light.

Living is sometimes what it may seem.

Ambiguously cruel to a fortunate fool.




Jon Billet

03/02/15