"Moment's Sounds"
A magic moment is a movement.
If you have a moment's movement there must be sound.
I've heard it before in my lifetimes' dreams.
Like television's screwed screen's lines I've seen after sex.
I can't think with her kisses and body movements.
She and I become as one.
Although, there were too few of us.
Not the amount I was promised due.
I am just like your imagination's view.
Et tu?
Who are you?
Where do you come from?
A hot flaming star's bright sun?
You are the one who is my fun!!!...
A star may weigh a ton but your love weighs none.
Your stars are lighter than feathers floating in space.
Your body is as rhythmic as your face.
I am slow to race with your heart beat's rapid pace.
Like your deck's golden ace.
Right by my side's place.
You are the sweetest dove.
To all the women whom I love.
By Jonathan Billet <https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100008123118668>
06-25-15
Saturday, June 27, 2015
Long Before Leaving
"Long Before Leaving"
Arrived at the station long before leaving for it....
Got caught in two places at once.
I went up and down the railway station after having my libation.
My disease matactecised and created tears in my lover's dried eyes.
It turned from a microscopic growth into a pandemic.
With no end in sight.
It had no light from which to hide.
The rest of the world took no sides, it never confides.
Start to finish and finish to end.
A message, it did send.
I wear glasses to see people as I want them to be.
Not as they are.
The women look like doves and men are sight's soaring eagles.
The cars never stop running, just like the clocks universe.
They all travel at different speeds.
A tree's leaves changes colors, like the camouflaged animals of the earth can.
In the beginning the earth was silent, and in the future will change back to silence again.
Like the trees' leaves or a camouflaged creature.
By Jonathan Billet- 06-24-15
Arrived at the station long before leaving for it....
Got caught in two places at once.
I went up and down the railway station after having my libation.
My disease matactecised and created tears in my lover's dried eyes.
It turned from a microscopic growth into a pandemic.
With no end in sight.
It had no light from which to hide.
The rest of the world took no sides, it never confides.
Start to finish and finish to end.
A message, it did send.
I wear glasses to see people as I want them to be.
Not as they are.
The women look like doves and men are sight's soaring eagles.
The cars never stop running, just like the clocks universe.
They all travel at different speeds.
A tree's leaves changes colors, like the camouflaged animals of the earth can.
In the beginning the earth was silent, and in the future will change back to silence again.
Like the trees' leaves or a camouflaged creature.
By Jonathan Billet- 06-24-15
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
Talks Like A Musician
"Talks Like A Musician"
They write like magicians and talk like musicians.
A few do.
They say look both ways before you talk.
Or you may end up getting run over by a passing star.
Couldn't help but stick my big butt in the cement before I spoke.
Now there's an impression of my rear in the cement, autographed by me.
Like Grauman's Chinese Theater blocks away from Hollywood and Vine.
Living a cat's lives of nine.
So raise your stein to this story of mine.
"Life is sublime when it changes from a riddle into a rhyme."
Especially for me and my big mouth's behind.
I hope you have the time to read this fairytale's rhyme.
Rhymes with the times!...
By Jonathan Billet
June Ninth, Two Thousand Fifteen
Dedicated To My Favorite Person-Andrea.
They write like magicians and talk like musicians.
A few do.
They say look both ways before you talk.
Or you may end up getting run over by a passing star.
Couldn't help but stick my big butt in the cement before I spoke.
Now there's an impression of my rear in the cement, autographed by me.
Like Grauman's Chinese Theater blocks away from Hollywood and Vine.
Living a cat's lives of nine.
So raise your stein to this story of mine.
"Life is sublime when it changes from a riddle into a rhyme."
Especially for me and my big mouth's behind.
I hope you have the time to read this fairytale's rhyme.
Rhymes with the times!...
By Jonathan Billet
June Ninth, Two Thousand Fifteen
Dedicated To My Favorite Person-Andrea.
Monday, June 22, 2015
Fiddler's Dime Rhyme
"Fiddler's Dime Rhyme"
A riddle isn't worth a dime unless it's played in rhyme during fiddle time.
I don't know if my last poetry piece existed anywhere, but in my mind.
The sun, planets, moons, and stars' rivers, and oceans, are my sons and daughters.
I'm writing on a full moon in a cathartic late June.
Soon to be the turning earth's July, for an August supply of a hot afternoon sun.
When the musical melodies ring as one.
Are you lip syncing me, or tongue touching the clouds in the sky?
The state of California seems to have gone dry.
It's a dry and fecked smell that attracts flies.
I just skip over, in my stately high.
Will the world cry, should I die?
I'm taking tokes on some powerful smokes.
Ruining and staining my teeth.
Beneath my feet on the floor, right next door.
Four and twenty blessed score.
Why should Tom, Dick, and Harry miss Larry?
He can't hide anymore.
Below the acupuncturist's store.
From you, after, or before.
From: Jon's John.
By Jonathan Billet
June 21, 2015
A riddle isn't worth a dime unless it's played in rhyme during fiddle time.
I don't know if my last poetry piece existed anywhere, but in my mind.
The sun, planets, moons, and stars' rivers, and oceans, are my sons and daughters.
I'm writing on a full moon in a cathartic late June.
Soon to be the turning earth's July, for an August supply of a hot afternoon sun.
When the musical melodies ring as one.
Are you lip syncing me, or tongue touching the clouds in the sky?
The state of California seems to have gone dry.
It's a dry and fecked smell that attracts flies.
I just skip over, in my stately high.
Will the world cry, should I die?
I'm taking tokes on some powerful smokes.
Ruining and staining my teeth.
Beneath my feet on the floor, right next door.
Four and twenty blessed score.
Why should Tom, Dick, and Harry miss Larry?
He can't hide anymore.
Below the acupuncturist's store.
From you, after, or before.
From: Jon's John.
By Jonathan Billet
June 21, 2015
Thursday, June 18, 2015
Rhapsodical Dimes' Rhymes
"Rhapsodical Dimes' Rhymes"
A kangaroo hops and stops at the local Stop N' Shop to get a bite to eat.
With its gigantic feet it picks up a rhythmical beat.
The holes it makes have no bottoms.
A blank railroad sign has no play in times' rhymes.
A half empty drunk bottle of burgundy wine is stuck in a rhyme of time.
Flickering flame of a moth's rhyme in time isn't worth a dime in a telephone line.
The flame is lost to the wind's time.
Everything in the world will turn good and fine.
To ripen with songs' rhyme.
In heavens sharpened and shut out designs.
As it stands on two of its four legs hinds.
The local ventriloquist will throw his voice in an echo down the canyon.
The trains will come and go, speed and slow.
When they reach it and the blank silent, sign that says nothing.
It will lift up and around as the town's ladies bend down and show
cleavage all over town.
Many grafters reach for roofs' beam's rafters.
True, I spoke as I saw the world fall.
Nobody will give me a telephone call.
By Jonathan Billet -06-18-2015
A kangaroo hops and stops at the local Stop N' Shop to get a bite to eat.
With its gigantic feet it picks up a rhythmical beat.
The holes it makes have no bottoms.
A blank railroad sign has no play in times' rhymes.
A half empty drunk bottle of burgundy wine is stuck in a rhyme of time.
Flickering flame of a moth's rhyme in time isn't worth a dime in a telephone line.
The flame is lost to the wind's time.
Everything in the world will turn good and fine.
To ripen with songs' rhyme.
In heavens sharpened and shut out designs.
As it stands on two of its four legs hinds.
The local ventriloquist will throw his voice in an echo down the canyon.
The trains will come and go, speed and slow.
When they reach it and the blank silent, sign that says nothing.
It will lift up and around as the town's ladies bend down and show
cleavage all over town.
Many grafters reach for roofs' beam's rafters.
True, I spoke as I saw the world fall.
Nobody will give me a telephone call.
By Jonathan Billet -06-18-2015
Monday, June 15, 2015
Making Love In Larchmont
"Making Love In Larchmont"
Inspiration is a kind of beautiful magic.
Insanity passes with time and loving kindness.
To those who seek it.
Hannibal and Napoleon's conquests were a fuzzy past participle.
Shakespeare and Gandhi were living history to live on forever.
In life's clarity's silent moments.
Although they speak louder than sound ever will.
Peace will come to the few who possess strength to those who help others.
The world will come to a heavenly sent catharsis of epiphanies, whenever it is achieved.
Superstitious mirrors will never reflect the sun ray's goddess of love.
Love is currently here to stay with those who embrace it.
Love is the world's word.
We must heed the magnificent calling.
While we are alive, to chant its blessings.
Love you more than language can speak.
By Jonathan Billet
On A New Day.
Inspiration is a kind of beautiful magic.
Insanity passes with time and loving kindness.
To those who seek it.
Hannibal and Napoleon's conquests were a fuzzy past participle.
Shakespeare and Gandhi were living history to live on forever.
In life's clarity's silent moments.
Although they speak louder than sound ever will.
Peace will come to the few who possess strength to those who help others.
The world will come to a heavenly sent catharsis of epiphanies, whenever it is achieved.
Superstitious mirrors will never reflect the sun ray's goddess of love.
Love is currently here to stay with those who embrace it.
Love is the world's word.
We must heed the magnificent calling.
While we are alive, to chant its blessings.
Love you more than language can speak.
By Jonathan Billet
On A New Day.
Saturday, June 13, 2015
5th Vertical Dream In A Steamy Ice Cream
"5th Vertical Dream In A Steamy Ice Cream"
Bosco Nouveau is the topping to art nouveau's new show.
Jupiter has an indigo glow in our summers' times.
Plato never took Socrates' hemlock.
Birds flew to snowy mountain peaks.
Life never delivers what it seeks.
But seeks with a silent tongue.
So it speaks.
Making us once again, almost young.
We are always finding, but never arriving.
T.P.'s show off colorful blankets on their walls.
Next to the ancient, bubbling, waterfalls.
Smalls and talls are on the racks of department store's halls.
Where I try them out in the clothing stalls.
While young musicians learn how to play on Les Pauls.
To all you alls.
They chime with the deep south's melodic rhyme.
Written on a southern day late May.
By Jonathan Billet
June 13th, 2015
Bosco Nouveau is the topping to art nouveau's new show.
Jupiter has an indigo glow in our summers' times.
Plato never took Socrates' hemlock.
Birds flew to snowy mountain peaks.
Life never delivers what it seeks.
But seeks with a silent tongue.
So it speaks.
Making us once again, almost young.
We are always finding, but never arriving.
T.P.'s show off colorful blankets on their walls.
Next to the ancient, bubbling, waterfalls.
Smalls and talls are on the racks of department store's halls.
Where I try them out in the clothing stalls.
While young musicians learn how to play on Les Pauls.
To all you alls.
They chime with the deep south's melodic rhyme.
Written on a southern day late May.
By Jonathan Billet
June 13th, 2015
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