Electronic Sheep
The electronic sheep went ‘Bleeeeeep!’
-which didn’t help me get to sleep.
By the Book (sic)
Bardly Writ
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Tag Archives: #Sheep
Sheep
Sheep
I wandered lonely
as a sheep,
thinking many sheepish thoughts,
though none were deep;
I wondered for a while upon
where the other sheep had gone.
Whilst munching grass
and chewing cud,
across the fields
like a cloud
I’d scud.
I am the ghost in the machine
I am the ghost in the machine
I am the ghost in the machine,
the elephant in the room,
the fly in the ointment,
the wolf in sheep’s clothing;
and I have a loathing
for what I am.
I am the ghost in the room,
the elephant in the machine,
the wolf in the ointment,
and the fly in sheep’s clothing;
and I have a loathing
of what I have become.
I am the wolf in the room,
the fly in the machine,
the elephant in the ointment,
the ghost in sheep’s clothing;
and I have a loathing for this type of poem,
where the combinations grow
with every word
ever more and more absurd –
I am the septic in the poem,
or should that be sceptic?
Anyway, as I was saying,
I am the poet
in the septic,
tank.
No, that’s not right…
I am the poet in the room,
sheepishly wearing wolf’s clothing,
flying in the ghost machine,
whilst coated in ointment…
allegedly.
Dreaming of Sheep
Dreaming of Sheep
Ship to shore can you hear me?
Is there anybody out there quite near me?
I’ve come round to thinking,
that my craft is thinking;
and even though the water’s only three foot deep,
I know I’ll wake up when I go to sleep.
I know I will wake up when I go to sleep
It’s no use my even counting hundreds of sheep,
they just stand on the hillside there, in a flock
and then they all run about, they run amock.
Thoughts and images confuse my mind,
I’m looking for an answer,
a question I find;
I seem to be the blind man not leading the blind,
how on Earth do I get to unwind.
I’m like a coiled spring,
a wound up thing
that wound up here
on the first day of Spring,
or that sort of thing.
I’m the man in the corner,
a little Jack Horner
for the twenty-first century,
and I don’t want to be me.
I know I will wake up when I go to sleep
It’s no use my even counting hundreds of sheep,
they just stand on the hillside there, in a flock
and then they all run about, they run amock.
Trees, Sheep, and the Sky.
Trees, Sheep, and the Sky.
See here for the photograph that inspired the words – G:)
It’s about the trees,
or the sheep,
or the sky.
Swaying in the breeze;
chewing the Winter feed;
or hanging ominously above us –
you know which is to which.
All together
in one picture
they sit side by side,
juxtapositioned
by Nature.
In So Mnia
In So Mnia
I’ve tried counting sheep;
but, I ran out of fingers –
too many sheep;
not enough fingers;
I tried counting fish..,
fingers!
I tried using my toes,
still not enough.
So I am sticking to counting
unicorns and dragons –
I’ve limbs enough for those.
◦
Wise Words?
Wise Words?
I was driving along
in my auto-mobile
when I did see
sheep on a hill.
And when I come back
in my auto-mobile,
having been to town,
if they haven’t gone
they will be there still.
