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I Ride the Bus
The Omnibus
The Bus of Dreams
The Bus of Travel
It Goes From Point A
to Point B
You can't ride the bus
without walking
Walking along in a Martial Stride
Clicking in my pocket an Altoids tin
Full of the tools of Life
These are the things a man needs to survive in modern life
Fire- The fire outside like the one within
Cutting- The tool to set things free from *******
Key- The entrance to a man's place of shelter
Carrying along my wheely case
Full of the tools of knowledge
Tablet Computer
These are the things a man needs to learn better of himself
Books- The knowledge of humanity available at a glance
Tablet Computer- The ability to converse with the world entire
Paper- Ancient and Modern commodity of learning
Every weekday I Travel to the Bus Stop, Travel on the Bus
To my place of learning
And the bus is not only moving my body, but also my eager mind
And so, as I sit in the seat which has been sat upon a thousand times by a thousand butts, I think... "At least I don't have to worry about parking?"
They are the fierce writers
They ride on horses and write past you
They have rode on this earth before
And wrote with reed on various seeds
Armed with fine parchment and accoutrements
Meadows and the cemeteries
Their favourite haunts
the bull riders came
from near and far
to try and conquer
Chainsaw's elevated bar

he'd buck them off afore
the eight second crack
none would last upon
his awesomely built back

around the rodeo circuit
this bull had a legendary status
for beating they who'd do
battle with his feisty apparatus

the goading spur of rider
not disconcerting him
he'd show them that he
was ever potent in trim

of an immortal bovine
we'll never see again
so celebrate the elan
of Chainsaw's grain
brandon nagley Jul 2015
An old angelic poet went flying
one drab and tempestuous night.

Upon the clouds he rested
as the fallen angels were in his sight.

Whence all angel's were together
Serving their mighty God.

Now separated by good and evil
By free will the hellion hadst lost.

Their spaceships were ablazed
And their crown's they wore as king's.

Their wing's we're ivory crystalline
And their thunderous aura like electricity didst ring...

A trace of cherub dust they left behind in the sky
Telepathically knowing, today their wing's shalt fly...

Chariot's roll
Chariot's play
Seraphim riders, in the sky.......

Their countenance unearhtly, their eye's lit
Their batas all drenched by unseen blood.
Their flying hard to get those hellion
But they've lost one of their ship's.

Because it's their duty, to protect the all powerful God
They sweep by force in by million's, with lightning bolts as Rod's.

As the chariot Master's swept by the ghouls
The ghoulies calleth out their names,
The serpahim said to the ghoulies
Go back to hell from whence thou came.

And hellion its to late to changeth thy ways, thou made a bad choice..... So the Hellion's retreated, back to their doom of fiery noise....

Chariot's roll
Chariot's play
Seraphim rider's in the sky,
Serpahim rider's in the sky
Serpahim rider's in the sky......
I have a song I love stuck in me head it has an old western sound to it as if one walking out into the desert and I love the desert. So free to me and who I am. And anyways did a remake of the song in poetry form and song form of ghost riders in the sky .... Sang by johnny cash and Willie Nelson.. Took me forever to do this but I love it... I'm not country music fan but johnny cash and Willie Nelson are exceptions to me. Their the weird ones of country really there their own genre of music not even country they have something about them everyone loves as do I... Enjoy... I use word batas in poem it means robes in Spanish (+:

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