So drink your beer
And drink your coffee
In the fear
of The Great Nothing (Henry Jamison - The Rains)
Could it be any worse
Stuck in reverse
Let it all go to waste (Cold Play - Fix You)
Because love is patient ( Johnathan Ogden - Slow Down)
If you never try, you’ll never know
That lights will guide you
And fix you (Cold Play - Fix You)
I’ve never tried the secret door
Scared of what I couldn’t keep
Though it could drown me
Even though I’ve no fear of heights (Katie Melua - No Fear of Heights)
So I made up my mind and left her (Caribou - Hello Hammerheads))
The gelatintion of used
and fry grease waste.
fry your catfish in me
fry your chickens bay-bay
them potatoes fry crisped and all
grease slatting on the wall
shrimps and zuchinni too
baking soda doughnut
fried up too
then when it starts to stink
and the porkchops come out pink
sprinkle in the soldifier hardener
and that old grease
is ready for the trash can
when the potaos won't clear it up
sprinkle the powda and solidfy it up
and dump the grease out there
Film Clip of Lex luthor
in his college days
doing an advertisment for
Gelationizer grease remover
filed under "Attribution" from
Supermans notes found
in a breifcase at the
Metropolis Mall
by Hal Jordon and Alan Scott
Oswald Cobblepot and wealthy businessman
offered them a fortune for the breifvase.
Tune in to see what transperes.
3 slightly different interpretations in
delivery of the same line or lines.
Cobblepot spoke to them via phone
and then they agreed to meet somewhere
near the railtracks.
Written by
Dr. Johnathan Crane
of
Acme Betterance
a
Acme Company
Reserch Deptment
I’m just twirling in the center of my room.
I’ve got way too much to do.
Has that ever happened to you?
I’m assailed, derailed and impaled by indecision.
I can’t find my lucky pencil and I have a final in 90 minutes
I have lab results to qualify and I’ve a term paper to finish.
I have two problem-sets due and I must arrange movers.
Despite my burn-out, I should start packing for move-out.
In order to get our reservations and tickets in hand,
we’ve got to finalize our summer plans.
On my theoretical schedule - I’m behind -
oh, and there’s a mountain of laundry to climb.
In finals week everything is ratcheted up.
and there’s the weighty and unavoidable demands of sleep.
I’m just a girl about to pass out in her room, over-caffeineed,
from chugging a large, iced coffee after 3 hours of sleep.
I’ve read that stress can affect valuations.
I think it’s true.
I twirl.
.
.
Give Paris One More Chance by Jonathan Richman (Youtube ZMF7Jq8xNGI)
I Want You Back by Trijntje Oosterhuis
Make a Rainbow by Benny Sings
Let Her Go Into The Darkness by Johnathan Richman
in 1923 girl babies were named Nancy, Susan and Ann
boy babies were christened John, Michael, and Joe
then the flappers came along and changed everything
Now girls could be Lois, Louise, and Edna
Boys were approved for names like Samuel and Zeb
During the depression years babies were suffering
They were named for grandparents
Jim, Stuart, Johnathan, Eunice, Maude, Bessie
During the fifties, it was vogue to name your children with the same letter
A family could have Dirk, Deke, Deanna, Dillion and Dwayne
Maurice, Marlene, and Margo lived across the street.
In the sixties names were borrowed from Presidents
Back to the Johns and Samuels, I am not sure about girl names
Seventies arrived; now okay to name your children Freedom and Rainbow
After that, it has been everything and anything goes
Shanty, River, Drake, Tulip, Apple, Bedpan
Baby books cannot keep up with the flow
A connoisseur of delicious or Johnathan apples? Queried my mom.
I had never considered her a connoisseur of either, I said with aplomb.
I knew her as Apple Jenny, she was a crone with a mission to learn.
I watched over her closely as she made her warm apple butter churn.
A scholarly woman, a sage wild woman who knew her own mind.
She was empathetic, casual, down-to-earth, pleasant and kind.
It was a grand Apple Day Celebration, and a lively fun dance.
The apples were practically putting themselves to sauce as they prance.
Granny Smith slapped Arkansas Black’s wayward hand.
The rest of them laughed, and they kicked up the band.
Honey Crisp, the most forward tart of them all.
Was dressed in a lively gown, and shoes that made tall.
She could barely walk in them, and kept stumbling down.
She is such a corker, a goof pot, a run-around and a clown!
Ginger Gold refused Roma’s advances every inch of the night.
He finally gave up and ran off with Delicious, a most awesome sight.
They would have darling offspring, tasty and sweet.
We do not like to think however, of people who eat.
The carnivores are asleep in their beds, as we dance through and through.
Johnathan goes home with Golden Delicious a bit after two.
Some of us will be made into applesauce, the rest into pie.
But until that happens, we dance, we make love and we sigh.
I AM THE DREAMKEEPER
****************************
He rises,
hells stench fouls the room.
Its derogatory calls,
sadistic mental torture!
Left paultry souls in vehement anger.
He comes, the Grim Reaper,
no sentiment,
beholden unto himself.
He scythes through the dying.
Mortified the living scream,
their death hastened,
euthanised for free.
The Grim Reaper, I await,
not death, his person,
for I am the Dreamkeeper!
This being one dream
of many that I keep.
I was hesitant in its release.
Yet my intervention
Saved its authors Life.
Am I sentimental?
Of course, yes, for,
I am the Dreamkeeper!
The Grim Reaper?
A friend, NO!
A poacher causing strife!
++++++++
Inspired
by
Johnathan French
*A shepherd boy has become my best friend and my father's worst enemy.
I lay awake each night, praying for my friend's safety and my father's sanity.
Father was never accused of immorality, but I'm concerned about his instability.
My friend is so unlike my father, who is self-centered and filled with dishonesty. In his heart, He wants me to succeed him as king; but
his illogical mind disagrees.
My father hates and tries to kill my dearest friend, never understanding that my love for that shepherd boy only increases. My pain is greater than I can bare, and only heaven knows how this saga will end.
My father's anger and rage is so great that he has become violent with me; and it seems his love for me is wearing thin. He is so jealous and unreasonable! I never dreamed that I, a son of a king, would have no interest of ever being a king. My greatest desire is that my best friend will someday be king, and that my father will come to love him and also be his friend.
071717PSContest, August Premiere, Brian Strand
*Possible entries about David to be found in the journal of Johnathan, son of King Saul
My family is an old house:
Dad is the fireplace, which keeps us all warm.
Mom is the food, which keeps us all fed.
Paco, the Chihuahua is the television set, which provides us all with entertainment.
Kiki, the cat is the radio in the house, which makes a lot of noise.
My grandfather is the refrigerator, which stores all of our essential needs in life.
My uncle Joe is the propane tank of the house, which stores all the gas needed for the stove.
My Aunt Shana is the door of the house, which lets viewers in.
My uncle Larry is the propane tank filler which feeds the tank the gas needed for the stove.
Lulu, the pug is the carpet of the house, which keeps all of our feet warm
Sweetheart, the pug is the tile floor, which provides us something hard to walk on.
My cousin, Johnathan is the main bedroom, which people look at with awe.
My cousin Eric, is the insulation, which keeps any sound from escaping,
My grandma Eastridge is the walls of the house that keeps it warm.
My Grandpa Eastridge is the shape of the house, which people see first.
I am the foundation and the framework which keeps the house from crumbling
Johnathan, Innsley, Marie, and Paul ---
Tom, Trish, Bea, and Jack: all of them.
Black, white, asian; Jew, gentile, zen...
Sex, art, love, mores revolved,
entering ever-shallower circles of discovery.
Clear ice cubes clanked on glass;
religion, sex, quality imported Scotch
and Cuba made the rounds.
Conversation calmed, each with his own idea:
the ultimate word.
Fake furs, donned, drifted into oblivion.
Feeling alone, J. C. cleaned up.
From the dulled Johnson's Wax luster
on a genuine Duncan Phyfe table,
his distorted rumpled reflection
stared up at itself.
J. C. looked away, noticed four new white rings,
picked up a soiled Canon towel,
and wiped away three beads of water,
a few ashes, and himself.
My name is little Jonathan, I am old 4 years old
My daddy never loved me; my mummy’s hugs are cold
My sister is always screaming, she sometimes don’t come home
When mummy and daddy both go out, I’m left here on my own
My name is little Jonathan, I’m 7 years old today
My skin has purple blotches, that won’t go away
Daddy is always angry; he comes home late at night
I hear mummy and daddy rowing, that then turns to a fight
My name is little Jonathan and now I’m almost eight
My body is so scrawny, because I haven’t ate
The kids at school make fun of me, because of my dirty clothes
I’m use to taking the punches now; I’m use to blocking the blows
My name is little Jonathan, and soon I will be nine
A lady came to my school one day and said it will be fine
I do not live with mummy now, I live with someone new
I have some really lovely clothes, my body’s better too
I’m told what mummy and daddy done, was wrong, Thiers no excuse
A child cannot defend themselves, defend themself from child abuse
A Hero
by Johnathan Wayne Throckmorton
when i read the paper today.
i couldnt believe what it had to say.
my heart droped to the floor.
because a friend i lost to the war.
now memories are all anyone has left.
its like a knife right through the chest.
i cant imagine how some people may feel.
but i know its a wound that will take time to heel.
my heart goes out to all of you today.
i drop to my knees every night and pray.
i pray that the pain may go away.
and hope in our hearts he will always stay.
for the loss that everyone has baired.
his memories will forever be shared.
once again im sorry to all.
for the loss of a friend and better yet a hero to us all
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