Best Omnibus Poems
"cor meum"
Within the end of "IT" all
no matter gender, cause, colour, creed,
place in life, entitled or without title,
healthy or diseased, or
the choice of who we are,
who we lay in life with and
Love –
yet must never harm a child -
when that time comes,
water in the blood
blood in the water,
there will be great misspellings
of misread meanings
the talking in tongues
of minds in idle
treading water
with all
the lost and found
bemoaning
vaccuous ghostings
and small trolls time wasting
the Woolfish hours in small ponds
on great tidal waves of walls,
the message, poetically
is clearly spelt –
within the End
of IT all,
Love is Love is Love
perfectum imperfectum
immaculatum cor meum
in omnibus
arcanum penetrabile
gemma Christi
the decoded glistening read jewel
found in that dark place
embedded in every heart
Love is Love is Love
then, as One
cor meum
One has won
Candide Diderot. ‘25
Categories:
omnibus, muse,
Form:
Free verse
CELTIC DREAM
This land, as old as emerald's green
so delicate, a jewel serene
was hers and mine, a world at rest
from life that played out not at best,
seclusion from, "What do you mean?"
All things were understood in trust,
in love we lived, as if we must
forget about our times alone,
retreiving not the sword from stone,
and there we let it stay to rust.
No shining knights were there to see
nor axes carving destiny,
no blood would flow onto this land
except that God would have it planned,
from Dunloe Gap out to the sea.
All was too well, my love for her,
and she for me, be as it were,
and life, our greatest omnibus,
turned out to be the love of us,
and so in love is how we were.
© Ron wilson arbuthnot
akaVee Bdosa the Doylestown poet
Categories:
omnibus, ireland, love,
Form:
Lyric
"What does light have to do with darkness!?...."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Like mixing champagne miscreants
Within a simile laced frosted glass
Of crystalline stones mingling these
Crowned guises....
Fatidities of peremptory phantasms
Oracular silhouettes of the predisposed?!
Rising in unison unto a collective toast
Toward deceptives destiny; their very own
Whisperings billowing within ceramic tones....
These phantoms of the Pharoahs final call
Unto finalities masquerading opera
Respondez, s'il vous plait!?
Where on a blackened tie adorns this omnibus
The guest of honour with such, hollowed eyes
Smiling, as pressage greets them all....
Raising this metaphoric flume; a symbolic vessel
To these midnight mass miscreants of soporifics
Fatiditized oraculary made realities; fasicles
Standing before phelonians robes of fallacy?!
While as fantasias final chords begin their
Beckoning from afar; this preemptive echoing
Personifications, blood red rose....
Calling, afore this latter days gatherings of
Soon to be forevers, predisposed; ex parte
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
....The final toast!?
Note: ~ A resurrecting moment from Halloween 2008....
~ "'Love' & Warmth, Always," John!:) ~ "Hebrews 12."
Smile ~ "Its 'A Beautiful Day,' So Don't Let It Get
Away!?":) ~
Categories:
omnibus, faith, life, sympathyhalloween,
Form:
Matris Dei caeli et terrae
Quam dulce, quam sancte, quam pulchra es
In quo mihi quotidie cupit
Veni ad me saties gratiarum
Illud etiam nunc in omnibus!
Solium tuum perstat in caelo
Nemo potest vincere.
Tempore evertens tua potentia est
Quisque subsunt sua.
Radix est ante saecula,
*****non capere potest.
Tua auctoritas ambit omnia,
Nemo potest ponere terminum.
Your essentia et esse est infinita,
Non est qui semper superstes potest!
O mater dolor
Exaudiat te genuit
Terra autem occiderunt vos
Per tuum, et vivam dolor in terra
Donec requiescat in sinu tuo?
Categories:
omnibus, birth, devotion, earth, heaven,
Form:
Free verse
Forbears,Edie,Kate and Ann furnished apiece with brush and pan.Each
Victorian 'Miss' tied in service's abyss.Far off days,now long gone,their toil each
day was lengthy and long.With fires to light,floors to scrub,and carpets to brush
and drub.Mops forbidden,as they smeared the dirt and begrimed their prim
alpaca aproned skirt.They cleaned 'his' tub,emptied 'her' commode,a regular
chore in a housemaid's daily load.Must rise at six but never to mix and no matter
what,keep a stiff upper lip.Never lose your cool,a formal curtsey the perpetual
rule.Half day off once per month,so free to roam and catch the omnibus home.No
other opportunities in store except a marriage at eighteen or before.Upstairs and
down stairs ,no in between,starting out at just thirteen and just there to please as Master and his Lady take their ease.
Categories:
omnibus, family, history,
Form:
Ode
Flower of lotus
Soft neath cumulus
Peaceful vision thus
Within radius
Hear the angelus
Wish of nautilus
Dream of Pegasus
Spur my animus
Flutter stimulus
Teasing up a fuss
Perfumed omnibus
What should we discuss
The kinship that’s us
Affinity plus
Equilibrious
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Submitted on February 1, 2019 for STANDARD CONTEST 170 sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 1ST
Originally posted on April 7, 2018
Categories:
omnibus, appreciation, beauty, friendship, heart,
Form:
Rhyme
my flesh is filled and fraught with foul disease;
offensive is my life to mine own eyes
who sees me sail life's clear and cloudy seas
where faith fills up or empties out our lies.
now here I stand a broke and beaten man
whose love of life laments obscurity
but in the end ambition's naive plan
reached in and stole my soul's integrity.
I am but one who's never been an us:
no flesh - no blood - no break of fast to feed;
a lustful trust once wrapped in omnibus,
ground down and made a graven slave to need.
disgusted as those degradation days
laid waste upon the taste of indiscreet;
my soul a hole of black and blacker ways
confronts chronicity of incomplete.
there is no way to spread the dreaded blame;
excused are those accused or left behind.
I do so love to play the changing game
in every little corner of my mind.
I've traveled every twisted rut and road
that zigs and zags across my mottled map
and every road became an endless load
and every stop became the same old trap.
I've tasted magic mushroom's mellow cure
alongside mystic natives in Peru;
made love in huts to ladies quite unsure
as glitter ghosts played rock and roll kazoo.
I've sat inside the sacred Shaman ring
where apparitions dervish-dance around
but what the Shaman brought I could not bring -
my last was lost - my first was never found.
I'm jonesin' in the center of a city
while waiting on some powdered China-white.
I pray the man can deal a bit of pity
or sick I'm bound to be throughout this night.
I think I see my hero now a-comin'
like a pimp he's dressed in tapered leather
tripping proud with lanky strides and hummin'
tunes he writes but cannot keep together.
I'm watchin' death come walkin' straight at me
and I don't think or blink a cautious eye
but hand the Ferryman Charon his fee,
relieved to leave without a shout "goodbye."
Categories:
omnibus, epiclife, love, me, integrity,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
freeloading riders
robber barons at the till
grand omnibus bill
Categories:
omnibus, political
Form:
Haiku
Ibi , culpa non est
Quia hoc modo non solum superest,
Dixit non restrictione
Et tandem sanavit dolor meus
Let me poetemur sine ban
Quia est indefinita
Et quod relinquetur mirabile escape
Hoc erit questus
Denique , non permanens, restrictione
percutiam
in finem
Nam cum summa felicitas legere omnibus dicam?
©Copyright 2015. All rights reserved.
Categories:
omnibus, language,
Form:
Senryu
Only a fall leaf
Blows where the wind takes it
We take the omnibus
Senryu
Oak leaf scours asphalt
Autumn´s worn out dead beat
Can´t dance tango
Senryu
Rainfall in Yemen
Taliban under umbrellas
Listen out for drones
Senryu
Steps on gritted road
Slam of a car door and voices
The song of life
Categories:
omnibus, dedication, deep, hope,
Form:
Haiku
Part I
my flesh is filled and fraught with foul disease;
offensive is my life to mine own eyes
that see me sail life's clear and cloudy seas
where faith fills up or empties out our lies.
now here I stand a broke and beaten man
whose love of life laments obscurity
but in the end ambition's naive plan
reached in and stole my soul's integrity.
I am but one who's never been an us:
no flesh - no blood - no break of fast to feed;
a lustful trust once wrapped in omnibus,
ground down and made a graven slave to need.
disgusted as those degradation days
laid waste upon the taste of indiscreet;
my soul a hole of black and blacker ways
confronts chronicity of incomplete.
there is no way to spread the dreaded blame;
excused are those accused or left behind.
I do so love to play the changing game
in every little corner of my mind.
I've traveled every twisted rut and road
that zigs and zags across my mottled map
and every road became an endless load
and every stop became the same old trap.
I've tasted magic mushroom's mellow cure
alongside mystic natives in Peru;
made love in huts to ladies quite unsure
as glitter ghosts played rock and roll kazoo.
I've sat inside the sacred Shaman ring
where apparitions dervish-dance around
but what the Shaman brought I could not bring -
my last was lost - my first was never found.
I'm jonesin' in the center of a city
while waiting on some powdered China-white.
I pray the man can deal a bit of pity
or sick I'm bound to be throughout this night.
I think I see my hero now a-comin'
like a pimp he's dressed in tapered leather
tripping proud with lanky strides and hummin'
tunes he writes but cannot keep together.
I'm watchin' death come walkin' straight at me
and I don't think or blink a cautious eye
but hand the Ferryman Charon his fee,
relieved to leave without a shout "goodbye."
Categories:
omnibus, addiction, adventure,
Form:
Quatrain
One from the 1850s,
I bought it from a Scotsman thrifty,
on the windswept Isle of Skye,
its browning cover caught my eye,
old paper that’s weathered to tan,
each leaf thick and dry in my hands,
an imperious title-page,
and the high English of that age,
once a proud showpiece for a home,
when books were pricey, barely known.
Early western, 1914,
full of villains and bandits mean,
black and while plate on the first sheet,
basic Roman fonts, cold and neat,
scratchy fabric on the cover,
like crack to an old book-lover,
small publisher, long ago lost,
tales forgotten, so cheap the cost,
a curio, few know it’s here,
the fun that enthralled yesteryear.
Paperback, 1946,
bright cover, like posters for flicks,
first seen in the pulp magazines,
tales of dastardly doings and fiends,
pocket-sized so it slips away,
it seems small in the modern day,
the teachers once scoffed in disdain,
“It only sought to entertain…”
Falling apart, bring out the tape,
since this kind of reading is great.
Bound classics, 1952,
enshrine time-tested points-of-view,
matched series, no pictures, all words,
print so tiny it seems absurd!
Bible-paper to fit it all in,
ancient scribes, philosophers grim,
spines crack when you open the tome,
once made young college students groan,
few were read, and yet they still sell,
’cause they look real nice on a shelf.
An omnibus from ’83,
the best of Jack London for me,
received it as a Christmas gift,
public domain brings good profits,
smooth cover, in two colors cast,
dust jacket with wolves, running fast,
buffet of a dead author’s work,
tales told from all over the earth,
read half, but I mean to get back,
if I ever find time for that.
Now our ‘books’ are screens with blue light,
one more device, it never feels right,
and I have used them, I attest,
yet I still think ‘How is this progress?’
Categories:
omnibus, age, appreciation, books, history,
Form:
Rhyme
(for Gahan Wilson)
Mushroom stew, mushroom stew
Nothing more or less will do
Needs no spice, no barley rice,
Laced with wine would not be nice.
Every morning, noon and night
Mushroom buttons grace my plate
With my fork and spoon and knife
Feasting till the hour is late.
A tasty brew is mushroom stew
Makes you dream and makes you scream
Eat some and I promise you
You'll become a mushroom, too.
"Mushroom Stew" appeared in my newsletter Mushroom Stew 1, 1975. It was collected in the big omnibus Anthony Shriek: His Doleful Adventures; or, Lovers of Another Realm (Centipede Press, 2017), containing the horror novel plus a second book's worth of short stories, novelettes, poems, and "odd end pieces."
Categories:
omnibus, evil, fantasy, food, horror,
Form:
Rhyme
AUTO, PLANE AND OMNIBUS
Auto, Plane and Omnibus-
what a marvelous fuss,
that stupor'd man creates with you.
Ladies, Gentlemen and Nom De Plumes-
what frolic,
just yesterday unknown;
is reality tomorrow ?
That which is up, that which is down,
how can we tell right from wrong-
when covered with technology ?
It takes the roses essence
and be-little it to nothingness-
until Poet and Philosopher,
re-erects it on a citadel of Love !
Categories:
omnibus, change, culture, growth, hope,
Form:
Free verse
As I reclined and looked at the horizon
I complemented myself with a proving smile
because the sunset was so lovely
and I had not seen one like it for quite sometime
The omnibus colors of the sky blended so perfectly
Magnified by the tilting shadows of the glaring sun
and before it had finally rested
I felt my life painting is done.
Categories:
omnibus, bird, birth, class, home,
Form:
Ballad