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Play me a melody
           that I may slumber.

Not to count sheep,
     more like to feed
on the carcass of
                 decaying dreams.

For in the lethargy that consumes
            me knows no awakening.

For the sheep no longer jump
          a cloud they are atop
the earth decaying in the nightmares
                           of life's living  
Induced fixation has engulfed us

Fixation of indoctrinated normality,
and the pursuit of said specification.

Who's, characteristics are repugnant to individuality.

We all believe we are different, but we fallow the same shepherd who has snowed us with such lies.

The hypocrisy of, "average is unique", has been whittled into our minds. We bear this scar for the rest of our lives.

To reject the ideology would be to condemn yourself to purgatory. All previous beliefs and known fact would vanish, you would be alone, adrift in nothingness and ultimate confusion.

However, our distraction caused by our fixation on subjective "normality" has blinded us. We find that we are in a crowd, and are unable to see above the billions of heads.

One thing we can see, is a ginormous stage. From which our indoctrination calls its origin.

The microphone upon the origin blocks self reflection and critical thinking through pushing us toward endless **** for their normality.

A normality of political agenda, social agenda, and cultural agenda all forced upon us through "authority".

Evil is one who questions any teachings that originate from the stage. Suppressed is their voice.

Discourse is hate speech.

But we are unique. But we are also normal because we are unique.


What a paradox

That's just what we are taught

Now that We've questioned our restraints of self exploration and personal growth. We can begin the beginning.

Free of our chains. What is our purpose now?
Amanda Feb 10
Spend my nights counting sheep
Might as well change my name to Little Bo Beep
I have flocks of hundreds, leaping over fences
Counting them all, as the bleating overwhelms my senses
But they don’t lead me to the land of sleep
All these baa-ing, stinking woolly sheep
I’m sure they are sniggering, as they prance in my head
And I lay fighting with the covers in my bed
Eyes red turn to a window, lit with early dawn
Another night passed and the sheep have withdrawn
I head out, another day, clothes dressed inside out
Too late to change, too busy dealing with the fallout
Of arriving late to work, and to the boss’s rant and rave
God I can’t remember his name, is it Brian or Dave?
But slowly his voice fades to the sound of a bleating lamb
And his head takes on the form of an angry woolly ram
Baa, Baa, Blacksheep, the nursery rhyme sings
In my head.  I feel sudden expresso cravings
I battle through the rest of the day, coffee on tap
And at lunchtime I manage a ten-minute power nap.
Then home and an early night put into place
Hot milk, no TV, a book to create a relaxing base
I am primed for the perfect night’s sleep.
But two hours later, I am wide awake. Counting sheep.
StoryTallinn Feb 7
Chicken, do you sometimes look up and get jealous?
Lone wolf are you afraid of the crowd?
Or really comfortable with yourself?
Black sheep are you fine with being different?
Or do you wish you were colour-blind, at times?
Who was the first “Original”?
The shepard before the Sheep.
What did the sheep do before the Methodical?

Their following a facade of an imbecile, it’s pathological.
But without it, they would weep.
Who was the first “Original”?

Why can’t they see the fictional?
They pray the lord, their soul to keep
What did the Sheep do before the Methodical?

Has it always been traditional?
does it help them sleep?
Who was the first “Original”?

It is a joke to see this as Logical
We’ve been snowed by those in the Keep
What did the sheep do before the Methodical?

Why can’t we find Traditional
We sit in a crowd where we praise what they steep
Who was the first “Original?
What did the sheep do before the Methodical?
rgz Jan 20
a poet who can't write
a dog that won't bite
a hill that can't climb
a clock with no time

an ist with no ism
undead but not risen
an endless schism
of self sedition and indecision

a two headed coin
a completely missed point
a light in the void
a limbless joint

Bo-Peep with no sheep
the shallowest deep
an unsailed sea
of dreamless sleep
while morrissey despairs in the background
Paul Butters Jan 1
Let’s get hysterical.
Let’s go mad
About the Winter Solstice passing
And our football team winning.

We party hard
For Christmas and New Year.
The Americans do Thanksgiving too.
Bad times for turkeys
Great days for making sales.

Anniversaries, birthdays and Celebrity celebrations,
Big Brother and Get Me Out of here.
X Factor and Lithuania’s Got Talent.
All excuses
For making mayhem
And a fast buck.

Any present will do
No matter how useless
Or banal
At times like these.
Compulsory enjoyment
Even if you’re ill.

Oh what sheep we are.
(Apologies to sheep).
We must conform
Follow fickle fashion
And hug the herd.

We may be social animals,
But woe betide anyone
Who is

“Be yourself” they say,
But do they mean it?
Course not.
The “Individual” is cursed,
Cast out
A *****.

It’s time to stand back,
See the truth
And find your inner soul.
Break the brainwash,
Defy the dictators
The Nanny State
And really,
Be You.

Paul Butters

© PB 1\1\2019.
Influenced by the glibly funny UK comedian Richard Ayoade.
Temporal Fugue Dec 2018
Today we fear intelligence
surpassing our own stupidity
we've already surrendered the castle and gate
although we can't understand or see

Stopping at lights for no reason
told by machines what will be
standing and staring at vacant crossings
logic deprived foolishly dumb and silly

The lights are red in all directions
nothing moving and nothing is free
controlled and directing the masses
yes, AI that knows you
and knows me
We should have feared computers much longer ago :(
You can be anything, but not everything,
So why do we keep making people our everything’s when we are struggling to find that one thing that makes us, us ?

Why do we bend over backwards for love but don’t take the time to invest in ourselves ?

Instead of seeking validation from other people we should should be validating our own worth,

But of course we can’t seem to shake the addiction of gathering likes on social media so we show a little more skin and clamp our mouths shut since society doesn’t value opinions anymore.

We are sheep in a sea of vanity and political correctness. All clamoring over each other trying to come out on top.

No one wants to be unique anymore because you can’t trend individuality on Twitter. We are so dependent on instant gratification that we sleep with our phones Incase someone likes our posts at 3 am.

When’s the last time you saw a kid playing outside? These phone screens are like prison glass.

We are sheep in a sea of vanity and political correctness.
Johnny walker Nov 2018
Helen loved to
see the lambs
In spring
I'd drive
the car to her
favorite spot
In the country
side we would
sit to watch the
the mother sheep
with there new
born, always took
a drink and a bite
to eat
Sometimes on my
travels I will pull
up In the place
were Helen and I
used watch the
sheep to remember
brings a smile to
face even
I go back to the place Helen I watched sheep
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