Different Persons

                                                                       "Different Persons"

Santa Claus is different people, but so was Marlon Brando.

I'm all the people I've ever met.

So is a divine being.

Alex and Steve are two divine beings I've met in my past's future.

Who are you to me?

A brother or sister?

An animal that I met or ate?

A bug that I killed?

My guilty conscience?

A building I visited.

Like the local pen?

Or was that the state pencil?

I'm so unsure of  myself and the world - that much I'm sure of!

I sure am full of it!

Are you sure of it yourself?

Don't be so sure of it!

By Jonathan Billet 12/18/13

Your Hair

YOUR HAIR OF FLAXEN BRAIDED RED.

AS BOLD AND BEAUTIFULLY GOLD

AS THE PLANET NAMED AFTER YOU.

TO A. DUDETTE       

KU TOO voodoo

read any old hoot

love you always forever 

and that is now in

by jon       

Jelly Farms

"Jelly Farms"

The Crickets croak on jelly farms.

A frog tells an unusual joke in the fog near a bog on a blog.

As I choke on my smoke.

In Wells Fargo's Bar.

Is this a moon's star night sunlight?

Sir, are you from the Federal Bureau Of Intoxication?

In a recently formed nation?

A flask of vodka never lasts long.

So jump on top of the moon and sing me a song.

Of course, that's par for the course.

So get up off your little Palomino horse.

Don't dream while reading a book with a chef's hat on.

Who is the cook?

Somebody I mistook for a schnook?

By Jonathan Billet 12/13/13       

Used Lot In Tuscon Arizonia

"Used Lot In Tucson Arizonia"

I'm in Tucson, Aridzona, and the year is 1968.  In

the hot desert sun the dry air is blowing the twelve

dozen American flags and the balloons with colored 

banners, rippling gently in the wind, in unison. 

Prices are painted in white on the windshields. The 

autos make a colorful collage as a spectacle that

any passers by can see. The lot is full of antiquated  

machines waiting to be purchased.  They are as obsolete

as the world of people who want to buy them.  It's

45 years later and nothing in the world has changed.

Still a mystery to itself, part of a great hoax

perpetrated by some used car dealer.

By J. Billet's 12.12.13.       

Nelson

"Nelson"

I have some ideas and ideals to which I can aspire.

There can be no compromise with mediocrity.

You know you're popular when the trees outside your property are bugged.

Never delete the elite.

Remember to always recall what they did for a livelihood.

Stay humble in your house of the minds.

Try not to get angry with your anger.

Your cause will live forever as you will Mr. Mandela.

You are a brother to yourself.

Today is a day of joy and pride for the world.

We will live on in your heart my true friend.

Nothing speaks louder than the dead man's dreams.

Yet, to this day those dreams will survive the world.

By a P.B.S. broadcast.

On 12/10/13

Hypnosis

"Hypnosis"

About a week ago, I was very stressed on the way back from school on the bus.   I hypnotized myself to take a breather.  I became unaware that I was on the bus, that it had any passengers, and even that we were in motion.  I was just concentrating, with all my brainpower, on the rhythmic sound the motor made as it hummed on, increasing and decreasing in power.  I went into a very deep sleep, unaware of where I was, imagining in my mind that I was at the depot, where the bus took off.  Suddenly, I felt pressure against my fingers, realizing I was home, and that a woman's back had been pressed against my fingers.  I thanked the woman for waking me.  The hour-long trip seemed to have taken five minutes.  I got off the bus at my stop and went to my apartment in a trance.

  A few nights later, I was watching my T.V. with a blue screen and R@B music playing.  As I was relaxing, my clock radio automatically went off and I heard very light classical music in the background.  This music put me in a waking stage of hypnosis.  I fell asleep half awake with the music on.  A few hours later, I woke up with the music coming from the television and radio combined, sitting in my chair, in a trance.

I realized these two hypnotic experiences bore a strange resemblance and formed a symphonic ally syncopated poem in my mind.

BILLET, JONATHAN H-3 03/03/09