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Bisaal Jun 2017
I'm lost
like a bird
who lost its flock
during migration

I'm lost
can you help me
find my way back,

I'm lost
perhaps you
can tell me
where I belong?

I'm lost
*help me.
Denel Kessler Feb 2017
Mirrored silver
tag me blue
reflective sky
widgeon, merganser
blithely sail
broken ripples

cawing crows
anxious ducks
explode airborne
duly warned
silent drone
fateful wraith

glides over
the settling
razor eyes
the meek
the weak

fleeing flock
white bellies
exposed to the sun
banking hard
return to serenity
certain death

in nature
alliances are clear



no match
for those
against him
True story...
: )
Devin Ortiz Dec 2016
As a child, I was blessed
Light skin, in a white world
I had white friends, white teachers
I had white pastors, white family
That was everything that I knew to be

I had some black friends, a black teacher
I had a black pastor, black family
I saw color, I saw the differences
I saw white friends hating my black friends
I saw white teachers demean black students
I saw white christians leave the black pastor
I saw family both white and black love me just the same.

Hate is taught.
But birds of a feather
Flock together
And I flew with any breeze
That would have me.

With wiser eyes
With years behind me,
I've flown with the gentle stream
A birds eye view of an unchanging world
So I've decided to test the current
To soar with broken wings
Famished dreams
Onwards to freedom
Connor Exodus Dec 2015
Spit on me with your mind
And dissect me with your eyes.
Decipher this very self, less
Orientated being that simply exists.

Plunder your skin around
My thoughts without effort or
Worry. Everyday without knowing,
Show harshly, I do not matter.

Lie inside of my ribs, caged
In a blanket of spring. Warm
And numb in a cornucopia
Of love whilst it howls outside.

Please, stop recalling time as
if it is the oxygen you breathe.
We have until the last sheep
verbally dismembers me cold.

I feel I only have a little left.
Yet only a fraction has been
Taken. Hurry, find me, and
allow me to climb out of my brain.
Open to interpretation.
I remember quite distinctly
The night the Angel came
Hovering above my field
And calling me by name

Fred, the Angel yelled to me
Waking all my sheep
I yelled "you stupid ****** twit"
I've just got them to sleep

He said a king was born to man
And I must go to see
I said, "I've got these bleating sheep"
I don't do this for free

The angel said follow the star
All the way to Bethlehem
I told him, you must be ****** daft
My next shift starts at ten

I've been around the world a bit
And I've seen a lot of stunts
But this angel hung right in the air
And his wings did not flap once

He said there is a child
And he will be the King of Kings
I didn't really listen much
I was still watching those **** wings

The sheep were going batty
The field was bight as bright could be
I said, of all the shepherds round here
Why did you come wake me?

He said to travel swiftly
And to follow yonder star
I said, I'm off to bed mate
I'm not going on that far

Then there came a bolt of lightning
He had barbecued a ewe
I thought this bird means business
I mean just what could I do?

I left my flock with Charlie
The shepherd two fields over one
And I said I'll be back soon mate
I'm off to see the holy son

I met up with some others
All of us had the same tale
Of an angel flinging lightning
So we all felt we best bail....

I got there in December
I'd been travelling for months
The only thing I thought of
Those wings...did not move once

There inside a manger
behind an inn...full up each day
Was where I saw a vision
I'll remember to my last day

Three wise men dressed in robements
A little kid, and his tin drum
Some donkeys and a camel
The baby Jesus and his mum

Dad, was in the corner
All alone hanging his head
He said "How could this have happened"
"I never left the bed"

I looked upon the baby
And I looked down upon that face
He looked at me and smiled
You could feel a state of grace

I really didn't know then
What I was here to do
But, now I know my task was
To tell everyone I knew

So, I started out on homeward
To tell old Charlie of the kid
I picked him up a present
Yep..that's exactly  what I did

I guess the world must owe me
and this I 'll stand and shout
You could consider my gift to Charlie
Was the first true  gift given out

Now, I sit and watch the sheep here
People come up just to see
The shepherd who started gifting
The shepherd...that is me!!!
Jordan Fischer Oct 2015
I stumbled upon a chapel last night
Inside was a man with a mirrored face gesturing for me to enter
He does not speak but continues to motion and reflect my demeanour 
Hesitant to oblige, I survey the inner-workings of the religious structure
No where in my sight lies the truth
A building built on lies and stories
Fables and myths 
The man says " You feel lost little sheep, please flock to the power, for I am you, no longer shall you scour, you found yourself within these walls"
I reply 
" You are not me, you are a just a reflection, A manifestation caused by fears and I will make peace with what I am by searching inside of me 
Not flocking like sheep to a fabled entity"
Bijan Nowain Feb 2015
Birds of a feather, together they flock
Whether they skip, run, jump or walk
Laughter, fun, smiles ear to ear
Experiences shared without any fear.
Frolicking through the meadow
Peaceful day, happy and mellow
Hands holding as they stroll
Attraction inevitable, resembling soul
Victor Mickeal Jan 2015
I found myself surrounded not
by wolves in sheep's clothing
but sheep in wolves clothing
To hear false claims of independent
minds, separate wills, strong souls
Yet quick to follow the command of
The excuse is friendship, love.
The same promise that was given to me.
Do not insult the heart of a wolf
with lies of it's identity.
Be true to yourself sheep.
Be safe with your flock.
Follow what you know.
The Terry Tree Dec 2014
In fields you walk with cloven wanderlust
With blankets carried on your back as fleece
Protecting fellow sheep-fold innocence
From devious behavior in the flock
Smiling as you bleat and stride as golden
Reflecting rays like sunlit drops of milk

A lamb of God your knowledge is your milk
Your curiosity breathes wanderlust
A message from the ancient one baas golden
Engraved upon your heart and curls of fleece
Observe the blessed range within your flock
Stray not for you may lose your innocence

A fog in hills may blind your innocence
Beware the wolf will take more than your milk
And with each day you bond among your flock
Behold the beauty of group wanderlust
We thank you for your warm and cherished fleece
That soothes us as earth's twilight breaks golden

Glory to the impossible golden
For myths of your spiritual innocence
Merely trumpets what liberates your fleece
The holy grail is your chalice of milk
Discovered in a cave of wanderlust
Restful within the shadow of your flock

What joy is raised in stables of your flock
An offering of ritual golden
Pasture of thirsty hearts in wanderlust
You teach us to hold fast to innocence
How precious is the richness of your milk
Our comfort is to rest our heads on fleece

A new dawn to behold an age of fleece
A new dusk to protect an ancient flock
A new day to preserve the gift of milk
A new memory to hold futures golden
A never ending age of innocence
A satiated age of wanderlust

Fruitful wanderlust of black sage fleece
Shepherds innocence to a white cloaked flock
Prepare ye golden moments with thine milk

Poetic Form | Sestina
A sestina is a form of poetry that uses a method of repeating words at the end of each line. It has 6 stanzas of 6 lines each, with an envoy (or tercet) of three lines to conclude the poem.
Frank Ruland Nov 2014
Speak of the Devil,
and he shall appear,
but cower, not of his evil.
Demons are nothing to fear!

They're concealed by corners,
and skulk beneath shadows.
But hear me, fellow Loners:
These are not the Gallows!

No! There is no danger here!
Only men behind masks,
that hide their own tears!
Just listen, is all that I ask.

Demons are aplenty,
but they've no hold
over the Sheep so gently
grazing in their folds!

My Flock, speak their names,
then laugh in their faces!
They play pathetic games,
but cannot win our graces!

They are the weak and scorned,
for they have not our hearts!
From egotistical ambiguities they are born--
our confidence tears them apart!

So, I say to you, my friends:
walk through their Valleys and Shadows of Death,
but do no let it be your ends!
Do not let them steal away your breath!
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