Lung Breather

"Lung Breather"

I dreamt I was smoking my first cigarette.

It was after I had smoked for twenty years and quit for ten.

I drew the thick, nauseating, harsh, tasty smoke into my fresh, pink, lungs.

Blowing it out in a thin white-grey puff of smoke.

When they brought me to the emergency room.

Throat on fire and lungs bleeding.

Sticking some metal object down my throat, as I choked.

I vomited blood all over the thin white warm sheets and woolen blanket.

I lost consciousness and could see myself and the doctors below.

I awoke in my own sweat soaked bed.

Waking up alive and well was quite a thrill.

The only cigarette I smoked, they don't sell in stores.

As I realize, I never had cancer.

I am cancer free.

Que será será.

Your dry sweetly perfumed body next to mine.

Nibbling at and tugging at my ear with your teeth.

Asking me in a low sexy voice if I wanted to make love.

I caressed your milky breasts and began sucking on and kissing them.

Then, I could see and hear a musical vibration while we made love.

By Jonathan Billet-04/04/2015

May's Daze

"May's Daze"

Fall is back and spring's ahead.

May brings tank tops and bellbottoms.

Organ grinders find their souls.

The women wash by the waterholes.

Police units are on local patrols.

Tuesday is a funday.

Wednesday will never be a monday.

Thursday is the sauced day.

Friday is a lost day.

Saturday is really Tuesday, without the toupee.

Sunday was Monday.

Today is yesterday, too.

The days of the week are few.

There are many yesterdays.

Yesterdays are far away.

The months of a year can hear.

The bar is not far, it's very near.

I could be drunk on beer.

Out of misplaced fear.

Shed your tear.

For a hot summer's year.

In my room I will hide away.

Writing my poetry at the bottom of paper cups.

By Jonathan Billet- April 3, 2015

My Ass

"My Ass!i!i!i..."

My ass gives me a gas.

No pain in the ass.

A free pass.

A dream's sass.

Is it past?

Moving too slow to be fast.

Easter will come by.

Then say goodbye.

If you wish to get high.

Don't cry.

There is no shame in pain.

Living is insane to the sane.

Not to tame.

Love You Only!

By Jonathan Billet - 03/21/2015

Battery Acid's Paint

"Battery Acid's Paint"

The cows out in Colorado graze on granola and grass.

Green cars passed gas.

The batteries have gone dead and acid is leaking from their insides.

Time for a tune up.

On my bluesband hohner electric harmonica.

Got a book of blues while I was drinking booze.

Life comes and goes without any shoes.

Its got no muse.

Faded newspaper's late tunes news.

Good cheer to this passing year.

Your happy tear.

Without all fear.

Year of tear.

Tear cried a year.

Drown in beer.

I could see rolling clouds in the hills.

Got my five dollar bills and cheap thrills.

By Jonathan Billet

-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