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Bhill Oct 2020
yes, I see it
no, its got to be from the smoke
I know, it does make for some great sunrises and sets
oh, can you hear the cattle mooing this morning?
makes for peaceful coffee time...

Brian Hill - 2020 # 273
Adri Sep 2020
Subservient only to the wind
the gently blowing of the sycamore,
the soft green hues that line the countryside.
Small tufts of grass uprooted by
the gentle tug of the cows,
endlessly wandering the pastures.

The slow plod of time,
marked by the solitary grazing of the lone herd.
My steps marking the familiar indentations of
stretched gravel roads that seem to continue infinitely

A set rhythm of the land,
enclosed by rusted barbed wire,
stretching for acres against the
slanted posts forced upon one another.
Lush green trees cradle the relentless sky

I beckon for the cows to follow
They do so,
blindly not questioning
the authority of the one that offers food.  
I’m greeted
like a deity of honeydew and apple blossoms.
Bearing these gifts,
I am welcomed
by the cattle that I care for so dearly

I spend day after day with the cows
Growing closer,
caring for the new calves,
cherishing the bond that was built.
I begin to love them more than I love myself

Soon the long summer days,
turn to the crisp evenings of autumn.
I follow my familiar route to the pasture
Hopping the fence,
whistling a cheerful note,
but today is different.
The trees were singing a somber tune
as if the birds were crying out
pleading with the heavens above.
Jordan Gee Sep 2020
Chop wood, carry water,
channel Ra.
Overtones over the undulations of Nun,
where the first man stood quite
apart from his father.
The cattle of Ra poured forth from his eyes and
thus he ruled over what he made.
Red frequencies in the dark are
strung outside of time -
the mana by which energy makes art.
I cannot look toward the Black Octave…
bad cymatics in the Red Resonant Year.
I’m barking at the Blue Tetrad.
The indian guides couldn’t tell if it was
Comanche or wolf.
They remained still for quite a long time.

By: Jordan Gee
all of it in frequency
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
The First Christmas
by Michael R. Burch

’Twas in a land so long ago . . .
the lambs lay blanketed in snow
and little children everywhere
sat and watched warm embers glow
and dreamed (of what, we do not know).

And THEN—a star appeared on high,
The brightest man had ever seen!
It made the children whisper low
in puzzled awe (what did it mean?).
It made the wooly lambkins cry.

Not far away a new-born lay,
warm-blanketed in straw and hay,
a lowly manger for his crib.
The cattle mooed, distraught and low,
to see the child. They did not know

it now was Christmas day!

Keywords/Tags: Christmas, day, lambs, star, children, baby, Jesus, manger, crib, cattle, oxen, straw, hay, Mary, Joseph, shepherds, wise men, Bethlehem
CasiDia Jul 2019
Within the stomach of the world
The country stretches its branches, uncurled
Who is the horror of Napoleon Bonaparte?
Who darkens and fools the heart?
Often when man is shaken to the core
Other worlds sneak peeks in his door
And even in the junction of cattle
Metaphysical and mystical truths dazzle
Touched by the sea, a vision came
The pearls of the earth in flames
A jackdaw perches itself on pistons
Radiating heat from all of its mission
His mystic sense stayed tight beneath eyelids
Yet lit the flame in all said and undid
Like a voice in the wilderness
Or even a prophet of old, who might deliver us.
MisfitOfSociety Jul 2019
Cut off God’s thirteenth finger,
It brings the world bad luck.

At the supper of the twelve,
It traded life with a kiss on the cheek!
A tree held a rope for it,
So it could trade the life back!

Number thirteen of the twelve,
Died in a non-existent hotel room.

The dead speak tales of the one,
Who’s kiss killed the sun.
Blew out the world’s candle,
And slaughtered god’s cattle.
Loaded three long nights into a gun...
And pulled the trigger!
SR Nirmal Kumar Nov 2018
Swaying blades of grass
Tenderly await
Grazing cattle
A Simillacrum May 2018
Robot noise
Robot noise
The only sounds on Earth
are the stomp of heavy metal,
and the grinding of gears.

"What's worse than this?"
we wondered.
It turned out
we had more to learn.

The pure human had left
at the start of the new internet.
We were hybrid beings
of fleetness deemed cyberspeed.
The faster we learned,
the less we learned about us
as creatures.

As creatures,
we were captured in chains
the day we fully interfaced.

Hammers for nails before,
the sales elite saw this in store:

Stood up sleeping,
cow cattle weak to sweet lies.

Robot noise
Robot noise
The only sounds on Earth
are the stomp of heavy metal,
and the grinding of gears.
Homeless.
Worthless.
Nameless.

Let's examine the heart of rebellion,
shall we?
a rider there found the lore
and envision his plan
though surely a wire tell
and fine her in her skull
a minute's worth of plaintiff
while they meet rhetorical
and anchor a horse feather
this bar between hither
with Pegasus dimly lighted
and Chisholm Trail afoot
wholly charm a spirit together
in a kiss of extraordinary measure
that a yellow sky glitter
under the stars tonight
Burn your brand into my skin and treat me like cattle
Just don't be angry when I leave the door open
I live behind gates you've born me within
I eat the filth you hand to me, last on the line
Open your mouth, talk to me like I'm below you
Tell the world I'm cruel when I bite back
Tip me over, you know I won't fight you
Metal in my hands say I stand firmer on all fours
While you struggle to confidently stride on two
I'm built to react, you call me sensitive
The bond we share could slaughter our herds
Send me away from your vile care
And prove to me that cleavers are dull compared to your words
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