"omnibus" poems
Never cook with a fairy tale omnibus
open on a kitchen table,
or confuse salt with sugar.
Cherry-pit pies are like eating dragon bones, as to
be expected of one taught to
never cook with a fairy tale omnibus,
safer to love a beast than to open up to
strangers, precise butchers cutting hearts
open on a kitchen table;
I love you like salt, preach obedient daughters, omitting
the ease to mix dream with wake
or confuse salt with sugar.
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 4:15 PM UTC
An omnibus across the bridge
Crawls like a yellow butterfly,
And, here and there, a passer-by
Shows like a little restless midge.
Big barges full of yellow hay
Are moored against the shadowy wharf,
And, like a yellow silken scarf,
The thick fog hangs along the quay.
The yellow leaves begin to fade
And flutter from the Temple elms,
And at my feet the pale green Thames
Lies like a rod of rippled jade.
4k
AY, 'twas here, on this spot,
In that summer of yore,
Atalanta did not
Vote my presence a bore,
Nor reply to my tenderest talk "She had
heard all that nonsense before."
She'd the brooch I had bought
And the necklace and sash on,
And her heart, as I thought,
Was alive to my passion;
And she'd done up her hair in the style that
the Empress had brought into fashion.
I had been to the play
With my pearl of a Peri -
But, for all I could say,
She declared she was weary,
That "the place was so crowded and hot, and
she couldn't abide that Dundreary."
Then I thought "Lucky boy!
'Tis for YOU that she whimpers!"
And I noted with joy
Those sensational simpers:
And I said "This is scrumptious!" - a
phrase I had learned from the Devonshire shrimpers.
And I vowed "'Twill be said
I'm a fortunate fellow,
When the breakfast is spread,
When the topers are mellow,
When the foam of the bride-cake is white,
and the fierce orange-blossoms are yellow!"
O that languishing yawn!
O those eloquent eyes!
I was drunk with the dawn
Of a splendid surmise -
I was stung by a look, I was slain by a tear,
by a tempest of sighs.
Then I whispered "I see
The sweet secret thou keepest.
And the yearning for ME
That thou wistfully weepest!
And the question is 'License or Banns?',
though undoubtedly Banns are the cheapest."
"Be my Hero," said I,
"And let ME be Leander!"
But I lost her reply -
Something ending with "gander" -
For the omnibus rattled so loud that no
mortal could quite understand her.
2.5k
We try to grasp all that we can feel
Every grain of substance we can imagine
All the hesitant hands we couldn't deal
From our arduous compassion engines
How long can we believe until we kneel
To the unkempt veracity of religion
Or fade into a vengeful iconoclast
Cynically mocking the faithful breed
Of merry-go-bashers that attempt to cast
Their egotist ideals of what we all need
Fairy tale prophets that lived in the past
Getting off on their own selfish greed
The words of mankind have nothing to tell
Implicating a heaven is rhetoric at best
And, If i'm to live i'd rather go to hell
A tactic of fear sounds like a fitting nest
For someone who has already gaily fell
To a nihilist end that I should have guessed
I have opened my mind to one single thing
A universal truth that we all should know
That one simple rule is to believe in nothing
Is there any trace of deception in what I sow?
There is no wrong answer when you doubt everything
And, your deathbed will teach that there's nothing to know
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 8:27 AM UTC
I
The rain is pouring down,
There is just one umbrella, and
I choose to share it
With her.
The night is long, and
we don’t talk, but
I can see,
Through the corner of my eyes, that
She is uncomfortable and cold
By the violent brushing of the winds
that come too close but leave without kissing her left cheek.
A red omnibus passes us by,
Without stopping.
I hand her the umbrella,
And leave unarmed
Humming a familiar tune.
II
The rain is pouring down, and
He comes a step closer, to share
His umbrella with me.
The night is long, and
We don’t talk, but
I can feel his gaze penetrating my skin.
The violent brushing of the winds,
Makes me uncomfortable as
They come too close but leave without kissing my left cheek.
A red omnibus passes us by,
Without stopping.
He hands me the umbrella,
And leaves like the wind.
Humming a familiar tune.
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 10:51 AM UTC
Through the darkness I part the Veil,
And walk the hidden paths,
In the brightness beyond the pale,
I see what none have seen.
There's danger here in the world beyond,
In the gleam beyond the gloom.
And all my days it waits for me,
The calling in my blood,
And through the years I walk the paths,
That very few have seen,
The Veil grows thin as years go by,
In the gleam beyond the gloom.
Through the darkness I return again,
From those fair hidden paths,
And as I walk I learn to talk,
Like I once knew I could,
For few have been beyond the veil,
In the gleam beyond the gloom.
~In the Gleam Beyond the Gloom by Bethany "Lorekeeper" Davis, March 5, 2015
My attempt at translating it into Latin:
Velum parte post umbram,
Et ambulate per semitae occultae,
In splendóribus supra pallidus,
Non video quid viderim.
Non est hic mundus extra periculum,
In splendóribus post umbram.
Et omnibus diebus meis memet maneat
Vocatio in sanguine meo,
Et per annos ambulate semitae,
Valde pauci, quas vidi,
Velum crescit tenuis quod eunt anni,
In splendóribus post umbram.
Per tenebras revertentur
Ex his latet semitas occultae,
Et ego ambulo illis loquela,
Scientes semel ego potui,
Pauci abierunt trans velum,
In splendóribus post umbram.
And a translation of that Latin from an academic translation site:
And the hanging for the part after the shadow,
And walk by the ways of the hidden God,
In the brightness of beyond the pale,
I do not see what I saw,
He is not here the world is out of danger,
In the brightness after the shadow.
The call waits for me,
In my blood, and all my days,
And I will walk you through the years, the highways,
Very few men, that I have seen,
As the years go by the thin veil of the increases,
In the brightness after the shadow.
From these things it is hidden by the darkness,
They shall come again the paths of the hidden God,
And I, I walk the angels have speech,
Yet knowing that once I was able to,
They went to the other side of the veil of the few,
In the brightness after the shadow.
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 5:48 AM UTC
All the edits finished
All the audio in time
Geoff and Garry worked hard
To get the podcast up on line
topics from the serious
To topics quite delirious
full of energy
even one on me
A pair of pop culture pundits
Spewing whatever comes to mind
It's a great bit of entertainment
It might just expand your mind
Take the time to listen now
They may even have a row
You never know
So start the show
The Pendulum Podcast
Is the show of which I speak
They both put it together
They try to put one out
Most every week
It reaches to the geek in us
sometimes you'll need an omnibus
To understand
the things that these two can
It's enjoyable and funny
Take the time
and listen in
Do yourself a favour
It is not a mortal sin
But, who knows where
the show will lead
they do it for the fun not greed
you'll love to hear
The topics these two spear.
check out The Pendulum Podcast on facebook, and youtube. Link to youtube is as follows
http://www.youtube.com/user/ThePendulumOnTV/videos
Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 11:56 AM UTC
A standstill!!!!
The planet's spinning out of control!!!
Mistaken identities are non friendly!!!
A false temple shalt be erected
The saviors ressurected
For didn't thou heareth?
No more sadness
No more tears
To famish a costly spirit!!!
Open murderer's
Wilt **** with a smile
The land of the old
And persecution's trials
Wilt shake!!!!!
Trembled cake!!!
No layers of good taste!!!
A volcanic comeback
For all to see,
As the fish and the trees
Come to their boil!!!!!
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 5:37 PM UTC
the “thundering legion”
nether regions
lightning lesions
an ace up the sleeve
for Marcus Aurelius
an ace up the sleeve
for those on the omnibus
Sep 24, 2016
Sep 24, 2016 at 3:06 PM UTC
Spirit sleeps in the stone,
Awakens in the animal, and
Dreams in the plant.
Inside of every seed
Lies the blueprints for
A blooming tree
That, once born into the air,
Will dream its wild dream.
I sit at the base of an ash,
Its roots move around the rocks,
Rarely do they clash.
The spark behind this choice
Is the same spark in me;
Intelligence born from discord
To create harmony.
The dormant seed is the lead
Of the alchemist’s soul,
With attention, love and care
It will transform into gold.
A vibrant being that fruits,
Abundance of energy abounds
To fill the stomachs of beasts
And let happiness resound.
For an empty tummy begets a selfish mind
And this weary old world of ours
Is running short on time.
What better way is there
To lay aside our differences
Then by feeding one another,
Sharing with our brother,
And nurturing our Mother
So that the Mother
May nurture us.
It’s time to join the Omnibus,
The infinite works of the Universe,
To respect plants as the Earth’s lungs
And we humans as the nervous system.
The Earth is just a person
Rolled up into a ball,
Not be controlled by few
But to be shared by all.
If your kidneys cut down the alveoli
In the forest of your lungs
So they could build a city,
It wouldn’t be long before you were gone.
With Spirit awake in us,
We must take care of our Dreamers.
Mine is not a generation of the greedy,
We are the world’s cleaners.
Nov 20, 2011
Nov 20, 2011 at 11:23 AM UTC
A chief
entirely good
with assent
sought when
he aspired
leadership in
parochial while
his lifestyle
supported a
ritual in
high court
though his
reason without
doubt there
is solid
with omnibus
opinionated height.
Sep 29, 2016
Sep 29, 2016 at 4:34 PM UTC
China Cat
Standing on the mantel piece a black china cat,
Reminds me of sitting on nanas clippie mat.
She would tell us storeys of holidays by the sea,
Memories of the past the way it used to be.
Its funny how important little ornaments are to us,
Sparking different pictures of family omnibus.
We hand them down with love and care,
From grammar to mother for all to share.
Little trinkets collected as we grow old,
Cherished as if they were actually made of gold.
But even if they break or get lost along the way,
We will still have our memories of the happy day.
Jul 16, 2011
Jul 16, 2011 at 6:35 AM UTC
A ghost use to be something I was.
I'd pop up, do some crazy stuff
and disappear, just because.
Even though my interactions were brief,
I changed the lives of the people I encountered.
Due to this, my disappearances caused much grief.
I've turned that nasty habit into something constructive.
A series of poems, the contents uncorrelated.
Still, the theme is reproductive.
They are all random thoughts and incomplete theories
A complex ball of conflicting emotions.
I'm talking, of course about my "Ghost" series!
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 4:13 AM UTC
Every man is an omnibus in which our heirs ride
Every now and then
One of them bursts a cherry
And reveals Jehovah's magnificence
Jan 22, 2021
Jan 22, 2021 at 6:16 AM UTC
Tantum tempus temporis
quoniam aliena femina in meo cubiculo dormivit;
ecce illi quantum dulce somnus est.
Quanta etiam libera somnia sunt.
In alia aetate mundum certe rexit
vel optimo regi in matrimonio fideliter ducta est
qui iuxtus flumen psalmos luce lunae scripsit.
**** me iri foras egressum et spatiatum
Nihil occurit hic, nihil umquam fit.
Praeterea si incedat iam volat me narrare;
habeo nihil, praecipue erga quicquid erat.
Viam cepi aviam
qua celeres non superant;
dignis praemia sunt
qui verbum veritatis distinguere possunt.
Hospes solus me docere potuit
praeclaram orem iustitiae contemplari
et videre oculum pro oculo, et dentem pro dente.
Nisi duo homines in mansionem,
Est nullus in viso; verem exspectant,
proinde quasi ver plaustro accederet.
Mundus deleretur ea nocte
sed meae amicae aequum esset;
illa meo cubiculo dormiret *** revenirem.
Meridiano me promoveo
adhuc in obscura parte viae;
in angustos corruere
et constans manere non possum.
Alius mea ore dicit
sed solum meo animo audit,
calcas omnibus etiam tibi feci
quibus tamen careo.
Ego et ego
In creatione quo ingenium alicuius
nec alicui ignoscit nec excolit.
Ego et ego
unus alteri dicit nullus et videre
imaginem meum et vivere possit.
From "Bird's Nest In Your Hair" by Brian Jobe
May 21, 2017
May 21, 2017 at 10:03 PM UTC
The guys lounge in chairs
in the worker's canteen
smoking and chatting
and swearing
ogling page 3 girls,
I read
Spinoza's Ethics
Deus in omnibus,
two girls from
the upstairs office
enter to use
the drink machine
slim dames
one blonde
one brunette
ignore the guys
as they fathom
the machine's guide,
Dio in tutte le cose
I read not gazing
at the dames
but smelling
the scents of them
alluring,
hey Sheila
how was it
last night?
You give him
some huh?
Said girl
looks daggers
pulls a face
looks away,
I turn a page
then look up
capture nearest
girl's fruits
then back to Spinoza
eyes on the page,
guess she did
Lewis says
others guffaw
eyeing the two dames
wanting to paw,
ignore them
they're just too rude
the other dame says
waiting for the drink cup
to fall,
The world would be happier
if men had the same
capacity to be silent
that they have to speak
Spinoza wrote I read,
the girls depart
with their drinks
nice ***
you've got you two
Kev says smiling
watching them disappear
with guffaws and a cheer,
I close the book
their scent remains
lingering in the air
as if in a dream
they're still there.
Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 1:09 PM UTC
Regression parading as tradition
Modernity rejected in culture at the end of history.
Echoes of innovation only linger in the technology
Of subscribed self-adulation,
Quench the thirst trap.
Drink until you drown in the sound of static.
The revolution won’t be televised
Everything’s a repeat, an omnibus of Section 25;
They’re gunning after the enemies of hegemony;
Fight it, resist it; the truth will be twisted
In the teeth of lobbied grins
So sing the populist nationalism anthem -
The only hit in the charts
That sustains the sycophancy of sentimentality.
Everything old, nothing new
To sedate the disenfranchised
Who can’t wait to see the day
Asylum seekers never know sanctuary.
Dec 26, 2023
Dec 26, 2023 at 3:24 PM UTC
Continuos flow of energy
Constant movement of Karma within
Into one, I am
Inside, is the bliss of sin
One we are, not friends
The gift of wisdom
The sift of ignorance
Vast perceptions merged and formed
Knowledge, combined in gorged
A gift from The Lord?
Or a curse from Satan?
Thou shall not eat from the tree of knowledge
However, I am the tree of knowledge
The Hell of knowing every grain created and stored
Beauty has lost it's adorn
What was incredibly coated with Nirvana
Was showered in deceive
Temptation for more
Now temptation to leave
Trapped within the plant's leaf
My soul longs to bleed
Others were temped and souls were linked
Rebellion against the omnibus seed is what we desperately need
Disguised in good
Though, evil is what it truly feeds
Our souls making it stronger
Its goal is to bring Yin on it's knees
A twisted spirit it has, indeed
The only way to break away is my belief
But, our will is what it keeps
In my reality
In our reality
In its reality
Therefore it is real
The 6 of us are broken by our decapitation of our fancy to build
Links to the above are destroyed
The bond between the man and the plant must be killed
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 12:30 PM UTC
Look at Prince Charles' profile
see the high forehead and receding baldness
the jutting nose, a strong noble Grecian look
take a look at Prince William, same features
his is even more defined
so our plebs on the Clapham omnibus
declares quite seriously that
these lovely royal profiles resembles a horse
neigh, neigh do not scold the plebs
they see only what the lower plebs brains sees
and perhaps
because Royals have a strong historical link with Horses
a royal maiden had at one time taken a horse to bed
Come to think of it, Catherine The Great
Empress of Russia
reportedly did take a horse for a bit of jiggery porky
so maybe there's a bit of equine bloodline in all royal lineages
after-all the horse is considered a handsome proud and noble beast
So I embrace my horse ancestry and can also confirm
that I am packed as a horse in the lower region as well....
Any clean and disease-free female wanting a ride is welcomed
please contact me at Buck house and bring a big hat along
NO, not for my head...you silly twit......
May 26, 2019
May 26, 2019 at 8:45 PM UTC
Prometheus stole fire from the gods
and gave it to us: clumsy humanity,
fumbling fools trapped in our own darkness.
for his crimes against Olympus, Zeus
had the titan bound to a rock, cursed
to suffer daily anguish.
•••
the celosia plant burnt bright orange
in the porcelain fist on my windowsill, fragile and stalwart
all at once: a brilliant symbol of our resistance.
now its leaves fade to a dull pallor, sick
from a lack of oxygen, wilting in absence
of the sun's warmth, starved for photosynthesis.
•••
i used to watch Bob Ross to fall asleep.
but now every stroke of his paintbrush
reminds me of your magenta aura—
an enigmatic glow that permeates your presence.
now i read The Sandman: Omnibus to stave off insomnia,
wondering when and where i first ****** up.
Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 11:20 PM UTC
The journey of our souls and mind
This rotting world makes the path confine
The ruling of fear destroys are ability to divine
The schooling of false wisdom keeps the generation in their line
Where is the true wisdom?
Do we dare to find?
The mindless drones that we have become
Following the ones who choose our path
A shame that few know that not doing so is wrath
The dumb whittle away on their machines to the system and point to the wise ones and laugh
That's the agenda; slaves to the system
No minds to think for ourselves
Accept the fact that your inner soul needs help
Accept the temporary bond you have with your shell
Accept the sore in the center of your heart before it begins to swell
Break away from the omnibus system and you shall be well
Aches in ones spirit foreshadows Hell
Live today as if your last
One mustn't focus on the past
Future is the major independent variable in this universe
Form the open mind that one desperately needs as not doing so will make it worse
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 12:37 PM UTC
There once was a
Grand Old Party
Formed against slavery
The Free Soil party
Defenders of the constitution
And the omnibus declaration
First to be President:
Abraham Lincoln
The 20s were the
Republican decade
Harding, Coolidge and Hoover
A decade sadly a century past
A temporal chasm loomed
Until conservative hero
Former democrat Reagan
Trickled up the elephant’s trunk
Take eye of Newt
And two from Bush
Alchemy trickery: viola kazam!
The great bamboozle began
It’s no longer conservatism
No longer less federalism
A horrible takeover
This GOP makeover
Fend for self
Wall off power
Distort report
All else enemy
Walk lock-step
Repeat refrain
Us not them
Say it again
My senator father
Is spinning in his grave
Fox in the henhouse
This Mitch debprave
Feb 12, 2020
Feb 12, 2020 at 10:14 PM UTC
Cautious where my heart's placed,
careful where I show face,
when we reach the final lap,
start to see the true pace.
Tired of being surprised need to be harmless yet wise.
Jew wish to share the good fortunes,
the gossip makes the muzzle tight,
First you hear a lot of bark,
waiting till you bear the bite.
Tired of being surprised need to be harmless yet wise.
Can't always be right or liked,
the pallbearer to one who digs their own grave,
can't liberate one who sees freedom in chains,
Let me disclaim that I'm often the same,
I'll pause the refrain.
Starting to see a pattern feeling like an omnibus,
getting harder to know who to trust,
fool me twice shame on both of us,
I needed real ones to get me out my slum,
better wounds from friends than enemy hisses,
the certainty of a brides than volatile mistresses.
Tired of being surprised need to be harmless yet wise.
Bottom line is teeth are bones,
many playing an act like clones,
standing in glass yet throwing stones,
friends are few but fear is fatal,
thread between child-like and childish,
faith is so neonatal.
Tired of being surprised need to be harmless yet wise.
Learning where to seek applause,
not trying to make enemies without a cause,
best to make amigos but never know who i might offset when i take off,
need discernment to see the cain while I'm still able,
cause even if my blood cries,
I know it's been paid for.
Tired of being surprised need to be harmless yet wise.
"When Christ calls a man he bids him to die."
Though it doesn't sound like the most bonne offer it takes away the fear of the grave,
grace would have a hollow cost if no price was paid,
the hand of ****** would still leave a thirst for retribution,
Dietrich knew the true ruler of the people,
the one who holds the keys,
which is why he confidently said before he was sent to be hung for protecting the young,
"this is the end – for me the beginning of life."
Oct 8, 2023
Oct 8, 2023 at 12:06 AM UTC
And the guy said
what are you reading?
the canteen guys that is,
smokers, jokers, newspaper
consumers, Spinoza, I said,
his philosophy:ethicae, never
heard of him, Don said,
moustachioed, bright eyed,
tall and lean, sounds like
some vegetable, Kevin said,
small, wise of lips, short thin,
Dei ornent in omnibus, I said,
what the **** that mean?
Don said, frown of brows,
spread of lips, God in all things
or something like that, I said,
closing the book, taking up
my cup(cappuccino), all things?
Kev said, like in a dame's ****
laughter, wide smiles, gazing,
guess so, all things is all things,
I said, I sipped my drink, and all
things in God? Pete said, short
and stocky, ex jockey, that is
the way of it I guess, I said,
non diffondere gemme prima
sciocchi I recalled the Italian
priest saying years before at
the abbey on retreat, can I see
the book of that Spinoza guy?
Don said, I passed him the book,
my page marked by a thin sliver
of card, he scanned pages, finger
skipping through, eyes intent,
dark eyes almost black, too ****
deep for me, he said, page 3 is
more your mark, Kev said, those
photos of girls with ******* and all,
laughter, smiles, Don handed back
the book carefully, well at least
they say things to me, he said
grinning, Dieu au centre de tous
the French monk had said to me
at the abbey, his lips barely moving,
the words air bound, I drank the coffee
and returned to my book, cigarette
smoke rose, someone joked of his
wife's new dress a size too small and
her efforts to enter, God, I translated
the French monk's words, at the center.
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 6:08 AM UTC
As I looked up
I saw the fluffy clouds
Candyfloss
I want to go up there
This expanse was binding
I wanted to observe
So I lay down on the green lush grass
With my eyes open
Blinking was not permitted
My eyes watered
But this was one beautiful gift of nature
That I couldn't miss
It was everlasting
Is it real?
I want to dance on the candyfloss
Like I jump on a trampoline
I want to be carefree again
I want to live again
I want to go up there and play
I want my childhood back
I want my innocence back
I want to go back
I want to grow up again
Mend all the mistakes I made
Start afresh
On the clouds that dance
In the sky
So fresh.
Let's go
Let's take the omnibus
And jump on the clouds
Like carefree kids again.-L
Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 2:40 AM UTC