Oceans' Tide

"Oceans' Tide"

Gathering pebbles from the ocean.

The waves coming crashing down.

Collecting grains of sand and snowflakes from the beach.

I soak the sunshine up through my skin's bones.

On this day I watch as my skin turns colors.

The oysters hide their pearls of wisdom by the azure bay.

As the gulls cry and fly high in a summer's bright sky.

Diving in the cold water to catch fish.

The fulfillment of a dream's wish.

Some miss their wishes and catch up to them in dreams.

Like the gulls, they can fly and fill their bellies.

Others have other dreams they can fulfill while wide awake.

They live in heavenly clouds.

It's six in the morning and I must awaken out of my dream cloud.

Love you and can feel you tickle me until it hurts.

Life's tickle tortures.

Make love to me again when I wake.

Poetry story.

In slow motion.

By Jonathan Billet - 07/27/2014

Faked Theories

"Faked Theories"

Theorists are phonies.

Theories all cost.

The theories that cost are always lost.

Man's theories were lost.

At such a dear cost.

Theories are spoken by asses.

Molasses drank through straws' glasses.

The sun must wear a gun.

Sun's of bubble guns.

With all of its invisible ultraviolet rays.

Before man there were aliens with ray guns.

The rays emit an orange haze.

In a puffy, smoking cloud.

Don't talk too loud.

You might wake up the world.

It's in one hell of a spell.

Soundly lobotomized and hypnotized.

Floating in an outer space.

By Jonathan Billet 07.24.14. 

I Have Lost The Time

"I Have Lost The Time"

Although it's always sublime I have lost my time.

On a navy jet with the internet.

I pick up a code blue.

Old blue isn't very new.

Et tu Brutus?

It's Steve's father's jet plane.

In a mysterious game.

That's his claim to fame.

His family name.

Part of the same poem.

Not well known.

But always well shown.

Not by a smartest.

But by the artist.

Often times alone.

Sorry the smokestacks are smoking hay.

That's what I say.

Watch out for the smell of fires in rubber tires.

See you later mater.

By Jonathan Billet 

All Aboard

"All Aboard"

Too much traffic.

Freeways are congested.

Only wish today was tomorrow.

Sorry I missed you on my tweet.

Missed everyone on board.

The ship had quite a few cafes on board.

Did I tell you about the one with the poems on the tables?

Just trying to turn those tables around.

Like I saw in the painting.

Plagiarism is against all law.

Except the law of nature.

Wait until after the hearing.

I'm listening but don't hear a thing except calibrations.

Can't listen but I hear a crystal leeriness.

Or is it weariness?

Forgive me for not listening.

If I could hear clearly, my head would be screwed on right.

Thought I saw a doppelganger of George in the Haight in 1968.

Ten years tear's to late.

Torn years.

Worn down fears.

Too many beers.

Too much fate.

By Jonathan Billet- Revised 07.24.14. 

Cookies For The Workers!

"Cookies For The Workers!"

Free cookies for the workers supplied by the socialist worker's party.

This is worth the time of day as are all systems and clocks.

They don't run the same in different time zones.

Guns and flowers die.

Green socks for the B.S.A. Bull Shit Artists or The Boy Scouts Of America.

I'm sorry I left to this day.

What have we done?

What color are Bobby's eyes? 

Do they change colors like a chameleon?

To fit whatever surroundings he's in.

A camouflaged disguise.

Meant to pull the wool over our eyes.

Long goods on the memory truck.

Its purple like a new day.

The people are here to stay.

They can have it any way.

Their wish is my commander.

Like a slippery salamander.

I attended the company.

I was a federal man with the C.I.A.

California Institute Of The Arts.

Working on both coasts.

Writing my poetry.

For the U.S.A.

By Jonathan Billet 07.25.14.

King Of Pandora's Moon

"King Of Pandora's Moon"

I am the King of all the bird's gold dubloons.

Living in a symmetrical room on Pandora's moon.

I had a measurement to get my reimbursement.

In desperation I had a separation of a libation.

My name is Mr. Zero.

I am friendly with Batman and Zorro.

Shouting through a glass door, I can hear what is heard.

Not a word.

I'm a King Bird.

I am the ruler of Pandora's Moon.

The King wears red and yellow polka dots on his tee-shirt.

He has eyes in the back of his head - 3 to be exact. -

2 eyes in the front of his head.

He wears sunglasses on all 5.

So the people can't see his eyes.

When he tells them all lies.

He runs around the downtown trying to catch up with his shadow.

A sparrow was on the table where I was drinking water.

I banged on the table and the sparrow flew away.

For whatever reason more landed on the ground nearby.

The ruler stomped his foot on the ground.

Frightened, they flew off.

Of course, I was told a story I still find hard to believe.

The sparrows sought a revenge on King Bird.

They crapped on his head from time to time.

Never in the good King's life had he been crapped on.

Have you?

Postscript#1:

A friend of the royal King has an uncle who has magic

with wild birds and trained robins to land on his finger

and they even allowed him to bring them into his apartment.

Postscript#2:

The writer suspects that the sparrows may have been seeking

revenge on the King Bird because of all his lying to his

subjects.

By Jonathan Billet 07.24.14. 

TROPICAL TREAT

“TROPICAL TREAT"

Paintings are a tropical treat and so is all music, especially speech. I can hear their beauty. Cultures are also tropical treats like the Cuban song – “A Laughing Gas.” 

Nature’s beautiful, even in Winter’s tropical treat. All nature is tropical music, and so is air and the universe. A lovely one is the island Gauguin painted along with his walls. Food certainly has its own unique tropical flavors.

Sunday hides from the rest of the days in the week. All the other days of the week are hidden too. A pear tastes like an orange to a fish and looks like one to a dog. 

We all have our own peculiar tastes like they do. Just a part of the beautiful, luscious world in which we live. 

Even a wooden chair has legs on which to take a stand.

I like writing poems and reciting them.  

It's like singing songs to the world.

Tea for two and me for you.

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

Never feel blue because your life always starts anew.

Never old and always bold.

On this theory I'm very sold.

It's a living story I was told.

Life is platinum furniture.

I can subtract my money but can't add a sum.

Doppelgangers of Lloyd and Abbie that I saw.

Half a dozen of each crossing a street.

Someone saw one of me in a McDonald's at five this morning.

I slept until noon. 

Maybe this is a dream I had!

Or is it someone else's dream's escape?

J. Billet - Revised 07.18.14.