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Oh my god, what have you done to your hair
Please tell me you didn’t buy those clothes with the money I gave you
What happened to the you that I use to know?
Why are you doing these things to yourself?
What have you done to my baby girl.
And there we go: that right there is just it.

Your baby girl isn’t the correct terms anymore
Don’t you remember when I was little,
All the times I ran around looking like I did.
You can’t tell me that you thought I’d really grow out of that.
When I was just a wee kid I think deep down I knew, I was just unsure of what it meant.
When I was only in the fifth grade I had a girlfriend, but we didn’t really know that.

Love, and what does that truly mean?
Favoritism, lying, shame, broken- hearted, depression, think on all of that.
Do any of the above mean crap to you now?
I know I’m not the favorite kid you don’t have to fake it anymore.
Face this, we all know that I’m the unwanted, the black sheep, bah bah.
Although I will give you that you both help me out a lot.

What is the reasoning behind this you ask, but I shall not give you the answer you want.
The reasoning is for me to explain that who I am is who I will always be.
Maybe I’ll even improve on the person I know I am supposed to be.
I know it’s not either of your faults that I didn’t develop the right parts.
I would change the way I am if I could because no it’s not easy, trust me I hate it too.
It’s a chemical imbalance they say, something you can be born with.

Why am I sitting here pouring out my heart that I already have on my sleeve?
I have no reason to believe that anything could even matter at this point.
We all know I will be me and you will disapprove regardless.
You say you love me in which I do believe that you both do.
My only thing is I feel as if I’m just not what you wanted.
Hell I wasn’t even meant to be so maybe that’s why I’m the black sheep.
Baahh Baahh cried the poor baby sheep.

Wiping the tears of my face now, I’m sorry dad. I’m sorry, mom.
I didn’t mean for this to happen, I hope you don’t mind another son.
I know it’s going to be heart breaking and mostly against God as you always say.
I know life isn’t meant to be perfect maybe that’s why I’m cursed with this pain.
The fear of it all is so scary I wish I could truly change.
I hope you know this has nothing to do with my preference in which I’m with.
For that sake is another topic we shall not address for now.

With all this out on the table now, I say it’s time to eat, feast on it with however you want my dear parents.
To the final tale about how the baby girl became a grown man no one ever knew about.
Frecky Rosa Feb 2015
Roses are black,
Violets are white,
Sugar is bitter,
And so NOT are you!
Ken Pepiton Aug 2022
That child,
seems to be reading to my old dog friend.

Can we teach a dog to read and see the significance
some men find in syllables unsaid?

In print,
Sibilant denture whistles, perk no ear
silent esses no ear can hear, un spoken esses essentially
signify nothing, simple noise.

But a good dog will respond to the slightest whistle, as if…
A sibyl said listen,
hear the wind enter the world once with
inspired expired whistling sound found in song

this way,
this is the way,

Say plain the sound of each sign.

Alpha Beta, Aleph Bet, Ayee Bee

See, these let words be saved as signals

Letters, let silent sounds hold meaning in

signs of sounds men can make,
Like
Ah. or baah, which certain ruminants make as well…

A man can say ah, and mean plain nothin'

and some dogs can too,
but when dogs say, ah, it's often

a yawn gone into a groan like a stretched out
awww as the back arches
backward and front paws stretch out.
Tail swishing slow sweeps
swirling dust mites in a shaft of morning light,

more wind than any butterfly wing or
humming bird wing could stir.

"Remember", his brown eyes say,
this posture always meant,
"let's do some fun,
go for a run,
follow a scent"

But then, another yawn
and a shake. a glance from those knowing eyes,

signifying, signing , if I am happy, he is, too.

A dog friend then punctuates, by curling down into
a black and white comma
with a bit of golden tail
covering the nose
twitiching ante

cipitating a chase that leads to this new place,
where new sounds can sound
insignificant,
dream time humms,
not worth the effort to hear,
since we are not going anywhere, today.

Ah, be, still.
Tomorrow is the myth.
My dog swears that's true.
Today, or never, and
never's fine. He Yawns.
Old Oliver died, in mid 2020. He was a very good dog.
Mere dil ch vasdeya hai mera sajna,
Mathe tey sindoor ohde naam da sajda.

Shukra hai tera dil tou mere saaiyan,
Je mainu mileya eho jeya mahiya.

Khuda vikheya mainu ohde ch,
Padh lenda oh har vele dilon vich.

Koch kehn di lod ni payi,
Kawan tou pehla akhha padh layi.

Dilon da suroor ohde naal milda,
Baaga ch phul ohdi khushbu naal khilda.

Mere dil di har dadhkan ch ohi samaya,
Ohde siwa mai rabb kolo kuch na mangeya.

Zindagi sohni ve,
Jado oh naal hove.

Ohde siwa mera hor koi ni,
Ohnu juda kar mainu na rol deyi.

Saaha tham jouga jado ohtho dur kitta,
Maula meri zindagi da har pal tu likh ditta.

Rul assi jawange Je tu sadda haath chadheya,
Tere bina saada zindagi ch koi hor ni mileya.

Assi jiunde aasre sirf mahiya de,
Likh dewi ohda saath sadde sanjog ve.

Meri jaan vasdi ohde vich,
Ohda naam hi hove hattha mehandi ch.

Mathhe diya likhhiya ch zor sadda ni chalda,
Par sadda bharosa hai jado tu baah fadda.

Kayenaat badal dewi saddi kahani poori kari,
Mai rabb kolo sirf tainu magdi, tainu mangdi.
Ken Pepiton Dec 2018
That child,
seems to be reading to my old dog friend.

Can we teach a dog to read and see the significance
some men find in syllables unsaid?

In print,
Sibilant denture whistles, perk no ear
silent esses no ear can hear, un spoken esses essentially
signify nothing, simple noise.

But a good dog will respond to the slightest whistle, as if…
A sibyl said listen,
hear the wind enter the world once with
inspired expired whistling sound found in song

this way,
this is the way,

Say plain the sound of each sign.

Alpha Beta, Aleph Bet, Ayee Bee

See, these let words be saved as signals

Letters, let silent sounds hold meaning in

signs of sounds men can make,
Like
Ah. or baah, which certain ruminants make as well…

A man can say ah, and mean plain nothin'

and some dogs can too,
but when dogs say, ah, it's often

a yawn gone into a groan like a stretched out
awww as the back arches
backward and front paws stretch out.
Tail swishing slow sweeps
swirling dust mites in a shaft of morning light,

more wind than any butterfly wing or
humming bird wing could stir.

"Remember", his brown eyes say,
this posture always meant,
"let's do some fun,
go for a run,
follow a scent"

But then, another yawn
and a shake. a glance from those knowing eyes,

signifying, signing , if I am happy, he is, too.

A dog friend then punctuates, by curling down into
a black and white comma
with a bit of golden tail
covering the nose
twitiching ante

cipitating a chase that leads a new place,
where new sounds can sound
insignificant,
dream time humms,
not worth the effort to hear,
since we are not going anywhere, today.

Ah, be, still.
Tomorrow is the myth.
My dog swears that's true.
Today, or never, and
never's fine. He Yawns.
Searching for the place being tween subtle and simple called sublime,
just below the harsh glare of scrutiny.
Mike Adam Oct 2021
Sheep do not Scratch
The Tup,
Painful Birth,
Brief Spring of Frolic
In Lush Grass,
Nor butchers Knife.

Precious Poets,
We Bleat and Baah
Our Small Woes,
Big Loves,
Insights and Dust.

Such small Season
And Gone Gone Gone
Fumbletongue Jul 2022
If ever I start to baah and bleet
And start to turn into a sheep
Slap me good and slap me hard
Keep me out of the farm yard
Bring to light the mindless plight
And remind me that I howl at night.
Sheep graze the massive green meadows, wholly unaware
of the dilapidated barn I have come upon. Each rotting
plank a page of struggle, then failure, success and more failure.
Oblivious, the sheep have reached Nirvana: endless heaven of food.
I might envy them, except for their muddy, mixed colors of wool.
Paradise does not mean purity for these plump little herbivores.
They baah unknowingly, nature’s mystic vision: bliss of instinct.

— The End —