The Black Sheep

Old McDonald had a farm ... EI EI O ... and on this farm there were some sheep ... many, many sheep.

Most were young and fluffy and white and cute and cuddly
and happy as can be with a mouth full of grass
as they spent their time in the sunshine, carefree.

And on this farm was one black sheep.

He had spent many seasons on the farm
and walked with a limp from an
incident where he was bitten
by a wolf when he was only
3 weeks old.

The black sheep was not young,
nor white,
nor cute,
nor cuddly,
and unlike the other sheep
he was not happy to spend
his time in the sunshine
with a mouth full of grass.

And as he was passing a group of white sheep
one of them ask, "What's wrong black sheep?"

"Why are you unhappy here on the farm ...
where we are given green grass to eat
and allowed to spend our days
lounging in the sunshine?"

And the black sheep said,
"Because things are not what they seem
here on the farm ... the farmer is not your friend,
he plans to slaughter you all at the end of the season
and cut you up into little pieces
to sell at the market."

And all the other sheep said,
"NNNNNAAAA NNNNNAAAA ... you're crazy black sheep!
The farmer feeds us and cares for us,
he shears us in summer to keep us cool ...
he works hard every day to provide for us,
the farmer is our friend
and we love the farm."

And the black sheep said,
"The farmer sheers you in summer
to sell your wool ... and allows you to graze
in his field to fatten you up
so you'll bring more at market ...
the farmer and his farm provide these things
because that's how the farmer makes his money."

And all the other sheep giggled and laughed,
"NNNNNAAAA NNNNNAAAA ... you're crazy black sheep!
we don't want to hear your crazy theories
about the farmer and his conspiracy
to slaughter us ... we're happy here
with our mouthful of grass and
spending our time in the sunshine ...
and you'd be happy too
if only you did the same."

So the black sheep walked back to the barn alone.

And the days rolled into nights,
until finally Fall was upon the farm.

And all the sheep were grazing on the last
of the green grass, when the black sheep
passed a herd of white sheep ...

"Hey black sheep, you said the farmer
was not our friend, you said he planned
to slaughter us all to sell our parts at market,
and still---here we are!!!
Happy with our mouthful of grass
and enjoying our time in the sunshine."

And the black sheep said,
"Harvest time is here and soon you will all be led
into the barn to be slaughtered ... and your parts
will be wrapped in plastic and loaded on to a truck
headed for market."

And all the sheep giggled and laughed,
"NNNNNAAAA NNNNNAAAA ... you're crazy black sheep!
we don't want to hear your crazy theories
about the farmer and his conspiracy
to slaughter us ... we're happy here
with our mouthful of grass and
spending our time in the sunshine ...
and you'd be happy too
if only you did the same."

So the black sheep walked back to the barn alone.

And morning came.

All the sheep gathered at the gate
to enjoy their morning breakfast in the field,
only to find the farmer waiting
on the other side ... and a new path
leading back into the barn.

And the black sheep said,
"If you follow that path and go back
into the barn, then a metal spike
will be thrust into your brain
and your body will be cut into little pieces,
wrapped in plastic, and sold at the market."

And all the sheep giggled and laughed,
"NNNNNAAAA NNNNNAAAA ... you're crazy black sheep!
we don't want to hear your crazy theories
about the farmer and his conspiracy
to slaughter us ... we're happy here
with our mouthful of grass and
spending our time in the sunshine ...
and you'd be happy too
if only you did the same."

The gate was opened ... all the sheep rushed
down the path only to find themselves
back inside the barn. In a single line ...
they could not see what was happening in front of them ...
all they could hear was the sound ...

tick, tick, tick, tick, THUD!
And then there was a smell.

And some of the sheep started to get worried,
suddenly they felt something wasn't right ... they felt like running,
but the other sheep said, "Calm down ... everything is fine ...
just think good thoughts and everything will be all right."

And all of the sheep felt so much better.

They calmly proceeded to walk themselves,
single file, through the line into the barn ...

And each stood quietly, while the blunt metal spike
reset to position ...

tick, tick, tick, tick
THUD!

And then there was a smell.

And one by one ... all of the sheep
walked obediently to the slaughter,
each thinking their own happy thoughts
while the metal spike reset
and plunged into their brain ...

then their bodies were cut into pieces,
wrapped in plastic,
and shipped off to market.

And the black sheep walked back to the barn alone.

And the seasons passed
and fall became winter
and then spring ...

and a new herd of sheep arrived on the farm ...

Most were young and fluffy and white and cute and cuddly
and happy as can be to arrive on the farm
to have that next mouthful of grass
and spend their time in the sunshine,
carefree.

And as the sheep were unloaded
from the truck ... they saw one black sheep
standing alone and looking sad ...

and one of them said,
"What's wrong black sheep?"


- Chad Lilly .... unpublished words.

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Look

While Twitter is down
I'll resort back to poems
written with digital pens,
my life's only meaning ... to be a scribe
writing the unseen words.

To incite new verbs
and erase the meaning
of all preconceived adjectives ...
I'll write in new languages
familiar to the souls
of listeners
hearing.

Eyes with vision to see
between the lines of tweets
and into the meaning, deeply reflected
by cosmic eyes from that eternal mirror
reflecting everything back
to you ...

Look.

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A Poet's Alphabet

All
Because
Children
Dive
Eloquently head-
First into swallow pools and
Grass covered battlefields
Hoping to become heroes
In the land of make-believe,
Just in case the world needs
Killers for hire called: Marines to
Locate and neutralize
Make-believe enemies
No man can see---
Only to find
People as scared as themselves,
Questioning their government's
Rules / regulations as they are
Seizing both property and freedom,
Till every person is but sand
Underneath the feet of
Vicious masters
Willing to sacrifice the
X - factor for
You and me to satisfy their
Zeal for more --- greed.

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Bend Over & Relax - They're Just Taking A Census

Three weeks ago I received a local census survey from the city of Yakima. Being a good 'American', I distinctly remember taking it directly from my mailbox and placing it quickly into the trash. Forget 'out of the envelope', it never even made it inside my house.

Today, around 1:00 pm pst, I was rather surprised by a knock on the door. It sounded Official and smelled like paperwork. My poet-senses were telling me this was gonna be trouble, or at least mildly annoying, but I was curious.

There on my patio stands a women about 60, dressed like your grandma, with a plastic clipboard in one hand and her trusted, yellow, #2 pencil in the other. "Is this 1410?" she asked.

I looked up and to my right at the wooden plaque hanging by the door that reads: 1410, and say, "Yeah."

"The Yakima {something official-sounding} Board issued a Census report to this residence and it was never returned." 

"Yeah. And .... ?" (I placed emphasis on the pregnant pause at the end)  

She goes on to explain to me how important the census is to this and to that in Yakima, and if I'd just be willing to take her survey now, it will only take 10 mins. 

"Ok, but if this is gonna take 10 mins then have a seat and lemme grab a cup of coffee."

I return and she begins her questions, which are nothing more than a series of mundane things, which are not only already on file at the county courthouse, but are also available from many online databases. Her questions, just like the Census Surveys they send, are the Elephant, now here's the Theater:

They want to know who you are, where you are, and how many are with you at YOUR location. (somebody's counting heads.)

They want to know what race you are. Column D listed all kinds of labels from which I could choose, but I noticed that: HUMAN BEING wasn't even an option.

They want to know if you live at this location year round, or if it is ever vacant during the year.

They want to know if you know your neighbors.

Even though we sat on the patio and she never entered the house, she never stopped scanning / visually mapping the location. I could see she had been trained to observe details, tactically, like any cop, or soldier, so I intentionally left the door open ... and sure enough, she took the time to notice my bookshelf and comment on the artwork. (from the patio still ;-)

And when I told her, "I would like a census of the people in Government. I would like a count of the money going to black budget ops and exotic projects. I wonder if I can go knocking on the White House door to conduct my own census, and would they take the time to answer my questions?"

And this 60 year old women laughed and said, "No. They'd prob shoot you before you got across the lawn."     

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As Rain on the Face of God

With the time I have left
let me be a voice saying
those things sitting in the intersection
between both sides of our brain,
that line between ying and yang,
the simple path of balance
that chooses not to use
adjectives to describe
things as separate.

May I be a guide to myself
able to read the unseen breadcrumbs
leading back to source.

I've attempted to be a lighthouse
pointing the eyes of others toward information,
when perhaps I might shine the brighter
had I been facing myself ... instead ...
I've pointed fingers and laid claim to a host of
parasitic insecurities that shade my path.

To see my own two feet clearly ... I will now call vision.
And step by step, internally on an eternal walkabout,
I will vigilantly search for ways and means
of bringing what's inside me ... out.

To allow my inner stream to freely carry me
to the shores of understanding: that I am
water evaporating to fall again
as rain on the face of God.



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Who Controls What?

Life's balance rests in a place where our hands can not reach. Its changeless face stares at us from within, as we pretend to move things around or make things somehow different, the universe continues to spin paying no attention.

The temperature of our sun ... the rotation of earth on her axis ... the number of stars in our sky ... where the oceans decide to flow ... these are some of the things over which we have no control. Wind, seasons, and cycles of entrophy seem unmoved by our prayers, dogmas, chants, dances, and cries.  

We entertain thoughts of great control over our environment, our conditions, and our societies, but truly, who among us can undo a thing already done? Who claims to be able to add a thing uncreated? 

Who controls what?   

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Signs of MindKontrol

If you ask most people if they are under the influence of some form of social mass hypnosis or mind control, and they'll say, "No." Yet, if I start singing: "Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale ... a tale of a fateful trip ..." over 80% of you will know the next line ... and you've never once studied it. 

Ever wonder why you can't recall where your car keys are, let alone page 219 from your tenth grade science book, but you can instantly remember the lyrics to all of your favorite songs (while they are playing) ... and you never had to study a single line?

Ever notice how every news channels AP reeling ticker-tape at the bottom of the screen reads the exact same thing?

Ever hear of a school shooting before Columbine? And how many since?

Did you notice when the color of police uniforms changed from blue to black?

Can you see the security cameras and DUT towers being placed around you now? 

(To Be Continued ... )


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