"baas" poems - Hello Poetry

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 © tHE tERRY tREE

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Dec 26, 2014

Dec 26, 2014 at 2:45 PM UTC

terry-tree

Sheep Spirit

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 © tHE tERRY tREE

40

The horizons ring me like ******* Tilted and disparate, and always unstable. Touched by a match, they might warm me, And their fine lines singe The air to orange Before the distances they pin evaporate, Weighting the pale sky with a soldier color. But they only dissolve and dissolve Like a series of promises, as I step forward. There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction. I can feel it trying To funnel my heat away. If I pay the roots of the heather Too close attention, they will invite me To whiten my bones among them. The sheep know where they are, Browsing in their ***** wool-clouds, Gray as the weather. The black slots of their pupils take me in. It is like being mailed into space, A thin, silly message. They stand about in grandmotherly disguise, All wig curls and yellow teeth And hard, marbly baas. I come to wheel ruts, and water Limpid as the solitudes That flee through my fingers. Hollow doorsteps go from grass to grass; Lintel and sill have unhinged themselves. Of people and the air only Remembers a few odd syllables. It rehearses them moaningly: Black stone, black stone. The sky leans on me, me, the one upright Among all horizontals. The grass is beating its head distractedly. It is too delicate For a life in such company; Darkness terrifies it. Now, in valleys narrow And black as purses, the house lights Gleam like small change.

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3.3k

Sylvia Plath

Wuthering Heights

The horizons ring me like ******* Tilted and disparate, and always unstable. Touched by a match, they might warm me, And their fine lines singe The air to orange Before the distances they pin evaporate, Weighting the pale sky with a soldier color. But they only dissolve and dissolve Like a series of promises, as I step forward. There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction. I can feel it trying To funnel my heat away. If I pay the roots of the heather Too close attention, they will invite me To whiten my bones among them. The sheep know where they are, Browsing in their ***** wool-clouds, Gray as the weather. The black slots of their pupils take me in. It is like being mailed into space, A thin, silly message. They stand about in grandmotherly disguise, All wig curls and yellow teeth And hard, marbly baas. I come to wheel ruts, and water Limpid as the solitudes That flee through my fingers. Hollow doorsteps go from grass to grass; Lintel and sill have unhinged themselves. Of people and the air only Remembers a few odd syllables. It rehearses them moaningly: Black stone, black stone. The sky leans on me, me, the one upright Among all horizontals. The grass is beating its head distractedly. It is too delicate For a life in such company; Darkness terrifies it. Now, in valleys narrow And black as purses, the house lights Gleam like small change.

45

The horizons ring me like ******* Tilted and disparate, and always unstable. Touched by a match, they might warm me, And their fine lines singe The air to orange Before the distances they pin evaporate, Weighting the pale sky with a soldier color. But they only dissolve and dissolve Like a series of promises, as I step forward. There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction. I can feel it trying To funnel my heat away. If I pay the roots of the heather Too close attention, they will invite me To whiten my bones among them. The sheep know where they are, Browsing in their ***** wool-clouds, Gray as the weather. The black slots of their pupils take me in. It is like being mailed into space, A thin, silly message. They stand about in grandmotherly disguise, All wig curls and yellow teeth And hard, marbly baas. I come to wheel ruts, and water Limpid as the solitudes That flee through my fingers. Hollow doorsteps go from grass to grass; Lintel and sill have unhinged themselves. Of people and the air only Remembers a few odd syllables. It rehearses them moaningly: Black stone, black stone. The sky leans on me, me, the one upright Among all horizontals. The grass is beating its head distractedly. It is too delicate For a life in such company; Darkness terrifies it. Now, in valleys narrow And black as purses, the house lights Gleam like small change.

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2.9k

Sylvia Plath

Wuthering Heights

The horizons ring me like ******* Tilted and disparate, and always unstable. Touched by a match, they might warm me, And their fine lines singe The air to orange Before the distances they pin evaporate, Weighting the pale sky with a soldier color. But they only dissolve and dissolve Like a series of promises, as I step forward. There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction. I can feel it trying To funnel my heat away. If I pay the roots of the heather Too close attention, they will invite me To whiten my bones among them. The sheep know where they are, Browsing in their ***** wool-clouds, Gray as the weather. The black slots of their pupils take me in. It is like being mailed into space, A thin, silly message. They stand about in grandmotherly disguise, All wig curls and yellow teeth And hard, marbly baas. I come to wheel ruts, and water Limpid as the solitudes That flee through my fingers. Hollow doorsteps go from grass to grass; Lintel and sill have unhinged themselves. Of people and the air only Remembers a few odd syllables. It rehearses them moaningly: Black stone, black stone. The sky leans on me, me, the one upright Among all horizontals. The grass is beating its head distractedly. It is too delicate For a life in such company; Darkness terrifies it. Now, in valleys narrow And black as purses, the house lights Gleam like small change.

45

Na Maluum Hai Meri Manzil Bas Rastaa Par Chaal Raha Hu. Kabhi Rukh Jaata Hu. Kabhi Thaak Jaata Hu. Manzil Aanai Mai Daair Hai. Sauchta Hu Ki Baas Chaalta Rahu. Manzil Mili Ya Na Mili Aaab Kya pata Yeh Chalna hi Tha Meri Manzil

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Nov 12, 2018

Nov 12, 2018 at 12:38 AM UTC

aslam-m

Manzil

Na Maluum Hai Meri Manzil Bas Rastaa Par Chaal Raha Hu. Kabhi Rukh Jaata Hu. Kabhi Thaak Jaata Hu. Manzil Aanai Mai Daair Hai. Sauchta Hu Ki Baas Chaalta Rahu. Manzil Mili Ya Na Mili Aaab Kya pata Yeh Chalna hi Tha Meri Manzil

8

Dr. Klaus will be happy, Fratricides and Pesticides destroying The Greens, trampling on Wildflowers, Reversing s'ovloV & s'baaS against the palindromic monument to ABBA in Soddermånland. Båstad's!

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Sep 10, 2018

Sep 10, 2018 at 3:38 AM UTC

ryan-olearyuu

Swedish Bitters.

Dr. Klaus will be happy, Fratricides and Pesticides destroying The Greens, trampling on Wildflowers, Reversing s'ovloV & s'baaS against the palindromic monument to ABBA in Soddermånland. Båstad's!

8

Sunday 8:45 pm 22/11/15 Everyone has their needs. But needs does not mean.. About money or things they want to. Needs I something called UNDERSTANDING… between whom we love the most and wants to be happy with them. That is my parents... And no one could be more than that “your child”, does not want that thing which we tell you to buy or that is not a love which been brought through money... We just want is TRUST, LOVE, SPEND TIME WITH ME TO TALK, UNDERSTANDING, BELIEVE, if I listens to you.. I too deserved that... You should too must hear my voice that what I want to say! What I want to do.. What is my wishes! What is I wants! At least talked with me just for 2-5 minutes..! But u do not have time for me.. to talked with me.. No time to hear my words too.. EVERYTHING HAS TO DO BY FORCE. !! I hate it… I wish someday... U would understand it dad-mom... Baas hope that... It wouldn’t be so late.. That u both would lost your daughter forever 

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Mar 28, 2016

Mar 28, 2016 at 3:33 AM UTC

moumili

inside feelings

Sunday 8:45 pm 22/11/15 Everyone has their needs. But needs does not mean.. About money or things they want to. Needs I something called UNDERSTANDING… between whom we love the most and wants to be happy with them. That is my parents... And no one could be more than that “your child”, does not want that thing which we tell you to buy or that is not a love which been brought through money... We just want is TRUST, LOVE, SPEND TIME WITH ME TO TALK, UNDERSTANDING, BELIEVE, if I listens to you.. I too deserved that... You should too must hear my voice that what I want to say! What I want to do.. What is my wishes! What is I wants! At least talked with me just for 2-5 minutes..! But u do not have time for me.. to talked with me.. No time to hear my words too.. EVERYTHING HAS TO DO BY FORCE. !! I hate it… I wish someday... U would understand it dad-mom... Baas hope that... It wouldn’t be so late.. That u both would lost your daughter forever 

6

Die son het geskyn oor die more van ons mense, terwyl die mis stilletjies inbeweeg oor hierdie toe nog rustige waters, Ja wit skuim soos 'n skim was met duisende jare van ons voorvaders se rus en vrede verwelkom. Met bloed van verwoerd het die wit skuim en die skim gesien hierdie paradys is vir hulle baie goed en met 'n spieel en versteekte dolk en drank agter die kraag ons"primatiewe volk" se gehee sistematies vertraag, belieg, omgekoop verslaaf verkrag vermoor ultemiet ook soos 'n dwaas heeltemal verplaas. . Die son skyn oor die more van ons mense terwyl die mis stilletjies uitbeweeg oor hierdie onrustige waters, honderde jare van marteling kan jou brein so KONDISIOENEER, om te luister na die valse profeet wat vir jou dan!! met hulle leuns BEKEER en REGEER. Skrik wakker my mense dit het tyd geword om braaf terug te veg vir ons EER, want "hierdie pyn" is van ....lankal af SEER . Jy is eintlik sy baas Dit gaan oor waar jy jou kruisie plaas, BRUINMENS stem!!! EG hierdie plek gewaarborg deur geskiedenis is eintlik JOU geboortereg.

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Sep 7, 2021

Sep 7, 2021 at 2:29 PM UTC

DMC

Toe die wit skuim soos 'n skim dog ek was Dom, maar nou trek ek slim

Die son het geskyn oor die more van ons mense, terwyl die mis stilletjies inbeweeg oor hierdie toe nog rustige waters, Ja wit skuim soos 'n skim was met duisende jare van ons voorvaders se rus en vrede verwelkom. Met bloed van verwoerd het die wit skuim en die skim gesien hierdie paradys is vir hulle baie goed en met 'n spieel en versteekte dolk en drank agter die kraag ons"primatiewe volk" se gehee sistematies vertraag, belieg, omgekoop verslaaf verkrag vermoor ultemiet ook soos 'n dwaas heeltemal verplaas. . Die son skyn oor die more van ons mense terwyl die mis stilletjies uitbeweeg oor hierdie onrustige waters, honderde jare van marteling kan jou brein so KONDISIOENEER, om te luister na die valse profeet wat vir jou dan!! met hulle leuns BEKEER en REGEER. Skrik wakker my mense dit het tyd geword om braaf terug te veg vir ons EER, want "hierdie pyn" is van ....lankal af SEER . Jy is eintlik sy baas Dit gaan oor waar jy jou kruisie plaas, BRUINMENS stem!!! EG hierdie plek gewaarborg deur geskiedenis is eintlik JOU geboortereg.

52

ik ben ******* ******** ik ben ******* gek ik ben ******* gaar ik ben ******* raar en ik ben ******* moe ik heb ******* hoofdpijn en ik heb geen ******* social queue ik ben kankerskaffa ik zie alleen een waas mn depressie is de baas ik hou van SOA's ik drink bier met een dikke lul ik smoke van dat groene spul ik ga hard op je ***** ik neuk je moeders snitch word wakker in een ditch gelukkig kan ik lekker snuiven en de coke van mn nagels wuiven

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Sep 20, 2019

Sep 20, 2019 at 3:40 PM UTC

btp

NL REPRESENT

ik ben ******* ******** ik ben ******* gek ik ben ******* gaar ik ben ******* raar en ik ben ******* moe ik heb ******* hoofdpijn en ik heb geen ******* social queue ik ben kankerskaffa ik zie alleen een waas mn depressie is de baas ik hou van SOA's ik drink bier met een dikke lul ik smoke van dat groene spul ik ga hard op je ***** ik neuk je moeders snitch word wakker in een ditch gelukkig kan ik lekker snuiven en de coke van mn nagels wuiven

18

I wrap my ribs in blankets and attempt to get some sleep But I am kept up by “baas” from imaginary sheep I have counted so many I lost track of the number Yet not one nudged me an inch toward my slumber And even in the quiet hours foreplaying dawn No tiredness is found My mind races on I am comfortable like my bed is made of bricks Turning and tossing as the second hand ticks Knowing I am not going to get a wink of shut-eye But optimistic enough to try Close my eyes to the movie playing outside my window pane Colors changing Black to pink to blue Do not entertain It washes over me slowly Like the tide rolling in I surrender to insomnia Not strong enough to win I listen to the rustle of wind sifted through branches on trees And let my brain be carried away to fond memories It’s not the same as drifting off but it comes pretty close If my head must remain active at least it's engrossed I would like to catch some Zs but they keep slipping away Hands as slow as the transition from night to day I'm looking for an escape to ease my weary soul Some sun to light my insides Darker than coal My weakness gets the best of me Drowning me in fear Convincing myself demons are worse than they appear But as the blackness inhabiting my room begins to lift Something stirs my senses and I feel a distinct shift I forget all the obstacles in the way of my rest A weight is no longer pressing on my chest Just as everyone else starts their daily routine I finally doze and enter a world more serene The dreams I wished to visit but were too far for so long Are now mine to live in Only to me belong It may have taken more time but was surely worth the wait When it comes to sleep no such thing as too late

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Oct 29, 2020

Oct 29, 2020 at 3:28 AM UTC

AmandaKayBurke

Baa

I wrap my ribs in blankets and attempt to get some sleep But I am kept up by “baas” from imaginary sheep I have counted so many I lost track of the number Yet not one nudged me an inch toward my slumber And even in the quiet hours foreplaying dawn No tiredness is found My mind races on I am comfortable like my bed is made of bricks Turning and tossing as the second hand ticks Knowing I am not going to get a wink of shut-eye But optimistic enough to try Close my eyes to the movie playing outside my window pane Colors changing Black to pink to blue Do not entertain It washes over me slowly Like the tide rolling in I surrender to insomnia Not strong enough to win I listen to the rustle of wind sifted through branches on trees And let my brain be carried away to fond memories It’s not the same as drifting off but it comes pretty close If my head must remain active at least it's engrossed I would like to catch some Zs but they keep slipping away Hands as slow as the transition from night to day I'm looking for an escape to ease my weary soul Some sun to light my insides Darker than coal My weakness gets the best of me Drowning me in fear Convincing myself demons are worse than they appear But as the blackness inhabiting my room begins to lift Something stirs my senses and I feel a distinct shift I forget all the obstacles in the way of my rest A weight is no longer pressing on my chest Just as everyone else starts their daily routine I finally doze and enter a world more serene The dreams I wished to visit but were too far for so long Are now mine to live in Only to me belong It may have taken more time but was surely worth the wait When it comes to sleep no such thing as too late

42

Jy moet daardie swart hond binne jou beveg Voordat hy oorneem Staan teen hom op en wys vir hom wie is baas Maar hy kan so oordonderend blaf sê jy Met tye maak hy jou eie stem stil Hy lieg baie vir jou Vertel jou dinge wat jy vrees Hy speel op jou gevoelens Hy ken jou swakhede Hy byt waar dit die seerste maak Maak stil daardie verdomde hond Jy gee hom te veel kos Hy teer op jou gedagtes Hy's deel van jou Jy wil ontsnap Maar net waar jy gaan Daar is hy ook Soos 'n skaduwee wat volg Jou enigste wapen is jou gedagtes Di's al wat jy het om hom te oorwin Verander jou gedagtes Verander *** jy **** Verander dit nou 26-Sept-2024 Sean Achilleos

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Sep 26, 2024

Sep 26, 2024 at 5:23 AM UTC

SeanAchilleos

Swart Hond

Jy moet daardie swart hond binne jou beveg Voordat hy oorneem Staan teen hom op en wys vir hom wie is baas Maar hy kan so oordonderend blaf sê jy Met tye maak hy jou eie stem stil Hy lieg baie vir jou Vertel jou dinge wat jy vrees Hy speel op jou gevoelens Hy ken jou swakhede Hy byt waar dit die seerste maak Maak stil daardie verdomde hond Jy gee hom te veel kos Hy teer op jou gedagtes Hy's deel van jou Jy wil ontsnap Maar net waar jy gaan Daar is hy ook Soos 'n skaduwee wat volg Jou enigste wapen is jou gedagtes Di's al wat jy het om hom te oorwin Verander jou gedagtes Verander *** jy **** Verander dit nou 26-Sept-2024 Sean Achilleos

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