"Love Me"
Stoplights are slowing.
Lovers will be coming and going.
Always thriving and growing.
Artists ready to go for another show.
Playing songs about Vincent Van Gogh and Edgar Allan Poe.
A Poet writes a poem that is barely known.
New sun shines always shown.
Talk to me and let love stay for a new day.
To love is to pay in this endless romantic play.
For this night listen to what I say.
Something found in grassy grounds.
We pump in rhyming sounds.
As a single heart furiously pounds.
One, as two, of the same loves.
To Abagail From Yours -
Jon Billet-01/06/16
Saturday, January 9, 2016
Reflective Lights
"Reflective Lights"
Refraction's sunlight reflects shadows on my walls.
Plays havoc on the mind's sleep.
I leap into a steep floor.
Only to run out an exit's door.
Flying into thin air without a second to spare.
I will disappear and reappear within a year.
How this magic transpires is only clear to me.
A vision which never happens and no one can see.
It costs sweat to be free.
Air is lost and water bought at such cost.
Soil and oil are commodities over which they fought.
Men died and women and children cried.
While the livers told lies to stay alive.
As a breeze blew by in a burgundy sky.
Garbage was tossed as teeth were flossed.
The livers bossed and the lovers lost.
Living lessons taught and learned.
By those whom it may have concerned.
Jon Billet - 01-06-16
Refraction's sunlight reflects shadows on my walls.
Plays havoc on the mind's sleep.
I leap into a steep floor.
Only to run out an exit's door.
Flying into thin air without a second to spare.
I will disappear and reappear within a year.
How this magic transpires is only clear to me.
A vision which never happens and no one can see.
It costs sweat to be free.
Air is lost and water bought at such cost.
Soil and oil are commodities over which they fought.
Men died and women and children cried.
While the livers told lies to stay alive.
As a breeze blew by in a burgundy sky.
Garbage was tossed as teeth were flossed.
The livers bossed and the lovers lost.
Living lessons taught and learned.
By those whom it may have concerned.
Jon Billet - 01-06-16
Echo's Canyon
"Echo's Canyon"
My footsteps echo in the park.
A voice I hear is moving through the dark.
Waiting for a flashing spark to light up the park.
I write for myself alone in an empty house.
I'm invisible to a tree and dogs can barely see me.
Want to swim in the sea of orange tea.
That will set the human race free.
We really all exist in a box.
The box has plenty of locks.
Like my floor door.
Nobody will share what's in store.
The creator has an invention kit.
A music box is in it.
It won't take long to write these songs.
The ideas brought and sold are one.
Drinking too much cheap rum.
It takes a sum.
All alone, by myself, in one of my house's rooms.
Watching Jupiter's jumping moons.
While eating ice-cream sushi with soup spoons.
Made in musical tunes.
Found tucked away for summers coming noons.
By Captain Stardust or Jon Billet
My footsteps echo in the park.
A voice I hear is moving through the dark.
Waiting for a flashing spark to light up the park.
I write for myself alone in an empty house.
I'm invisible to a tree and dogs can barely see me.
Want to swim in the sea of orange tea.
That will set the human race free.
We really all exist in a box.
The box has plenty of locks.
Like my floor door.
Nobody will share what's in store.
The creator has an invention kit.
A music box is in it.
It won't take long to write these songs.
The ideas brought and sold are one.
Drinking too much cheap rum.
It takes a sum.
All alone, by myself, in one of my house's rooms.
Watching Jupiter's jumping moons.
While eating ice-cream sushi with soup spoons.
Made in musical tunes.
Found tucked away for summers coming noons.
By Captain Stardust or Jon Billet
It's Life
"It's Life"
When the sun did not come up and peace was declared on war.
In my dream, seagulls shadows were cast in sunlit oceans. People fell out of bed, dead. Nothing was heard but crying of the sea's world.
I am drinking from a bottomless pit.
Down below it's not well lit.
Jon Billet-01.04.16
|
Jasper's Eyeballs
"Jasper's Eyeballs"
All the mugs wear different rugs on their heads.
Some don't have any hair to wear at all.
Big ears, and mugs, with eyes that cry plenty of tears.
Quietly concentrating, trying to see through the rain-
covering the windshield- on the way from Boston to New York.
Driving alone, in my eyes, thick glasses along with the sick asses.
I am a man of many faces and different thoughts.
Riding from the old Boston Post Road.
A butterfly's shadow follows me as I travel through a hot sunspot.
Meadows of grass, where painted cows graze.
Through a thick haze, the days pass.
Is darkness a bright dawn?
Am I a chess pawn?
Backyard's lawn?
Did someone turn out the lights?
Where days turn into nights.
I saw all those ancient sights.
In my mind, without any rights.
Jon Billet-01.03.16
All the mugs wear different rugs on their heads.
Some don't have any hair to wear at all.
Big ears, and mugs, with eyes that cry plenty of tears.
Quietly concentrating, trying to see through the rain-
covering the windshield- on the way from Boston to New York.
Driving alone, in my eyes, thick glasses along with the sick asses.
I am a man of many faces and different thoughts.
Riding from the old Boston Post Road.
A butterfly's shadow follows me as I travel through a hot sunspot.
Meadows of grass, where painted cows graze.
Through a thick haze, the days pass.
Is darkness a bright dawn?
Am I a chess pawn?
Backyard's lawn?
Did someone turn out the lights?
Where days turn into nights.
I saw all those ancient sights.
In my mind, without any rights.
Jon Billet-01.03.16
Saturday, January 2, 2016
Dennis Lessons On 2 N.S.
"Dennis Lessons On 2 N.S."
A hidden magical waterfall on a snow covered mystic's mountaintop.
I jump on a different planet and other shores.
What a life doesn't present, it ignores.
Rock me from my cradle into a grave.
What Dennis taught me I'll always save.
Return of my sanity is what he gave.
In a Taj Mahal's St. Vincent hall.
When 2 North South let out a call.
After a maniac fall.
My belt and shoes make me feel ten feet tall.
My world is so small.
Life and love make a difference, after all.
Jon Billet
A hidden magical waterfall on a snow covered mystic's mountaintop.
I jump on a different planet and other shores.
What a life doesn't present, it ignores.
Rock me from my cradle into a grave.
What Dennis taught me I'll always save.
Return of my sanity is what he gave.
In a Taj Mahal's St. Vincent hall.
When 2 North South let out a call.
After a maniac fall.
My belt and shoes make me feel ten feet tall.
My world is so small.
Life and love make a difference, after all.
Jon Billet
Until Death Do I Part
"Until Death Do I Part"
The amount of pumps thrust on your toilet plunger is a number of years you will live.
Balls get squeezed and breasts twisted until you die.
I'm fifty thousand books, ten thousand poems old.
About a million meals, seventy thousand hours of sleep, and seventy months awake.
I will always be younger then you are.
That's twenty five days and three light years of tomorrow today.
Old treasure, and new pleasure.
Walking in Golden Gate Park, at my leisure, tickles me pinkish green.
I am part of the hippy scene.
Roll over red rover, I dance around in clover.
An impish dybbuk causes me all kinds of problems.
It sneaks in, while I'm sleeping in bed and takes my time away.
The things I own are my possessions and poems.
These will be taken from me forever.
Whenever the mischievous space imp decides.
The world's words will repeat themselves.
In their own foolish ways.
Jon Billet Redone 12/31/15
The amount of pumps thrust on your toilet plunger is a number of years you will live.
Balls get squeezed and breasts twisted until you die.
I'm fifty thousand books, ten thousand poems old.
About a million meals, seventy thousand hours of sleep, and seventy months awake.
I will always be younger then you are.
That's twenty five days and three light years of tomorrow today.
Old treasure, and new pleasure.
Walking in Golden Gate Park, at my leisure, tickles me pinkish green.
I am part of the hippy scene.
Roll over red rover, I dance around in clover.
An impish dybbuk causes me all kinds of problems.
It sneaks in, while I'm sleeping in bed and takes my time away.
The things I own are my possessions and poems.
These will be taken from me forever.
Whenever the mischievous space imp decides.
The world's words will repeat themselves.
In their own foolish ways.
Jon Billet Redone 12/31/15
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