Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
when curt is the plan
that Dallas nev'r  succumb
to total the law of their queasiness
that really inhibit the ritual only in love
with the direness 'n' bellow in philosophy
that squawk of fire so tear up street
only must that fine standing hire
that tract of striped industry Titan
a hire
a mill
lies on
this street
then these
colors are
sweet by
the shifts
that bind
those sheets
willfully blessed
in their
must kind
of wheat
now it
fed the
mush in
their *****
a mill of bleeds
Tony Luxton Jan 2018
Constables hay wain crossed
the Stour, wooden wheels creaking,
countryside colours clouded,
trees shrouded Flatford Mill.

Lowry's people were going to work,
guarded by furious chimneys,
darkness conductors, limbs aching.
Beneath the plumes short lives streamed,
inhabiting a rent collector's dreams.

Thin models for humanity
suffered Salford's acid rain
from satanic wage slave mills.
two paintings of workers
Vexren4000 Mar 2017
Terraces of aged vistas,
Old millhouses, water wheels,
Times of farming faded into antiquity,
Millstones appearing as if carried there by giants,
Man and his propensity for technology,
Even could be seen,
Back in times faded into the past,
Times hindered by stubborn thought,
The mill wheel still turning in some places,
As the river never left, And time left the building mostly alone,
Away from humans and their destructive ways.

©BAS
Äŧül Mar 2016
Pain, pain, pain...
It's getting the better of me,
A walking sample I am,
Of a man sans any heart,
Memories remain only to haunt.

Pain, pain, pain..
It's now becoming run of the mill,
A lot of mental pain & torture,
Since I befriended her,
As I thought that she was *my saviour.
My HP Poem #1041
©Atul Kaushal
Raghu Menon Oct 2015
The Flower Sellers
Rushing with their bundles

The Milk Vendors
Cycling with their milk cans

The Newspaper boys
Sorting out their packets

The Morning walkers
Warming up and stretching

The Chai-walas
Pouring out their teas

The scarfed mill workers
Speeding for their shifts

The vegetable vendors
Carrying their head loads

The Suprabhatham
Flowing from a distant house

The night shift workers
Returning home.

The Municipality workers
Cleaning the streets..

*The city is waking up
Or did it ever sleep?
Chai- Tea, Suprabhatham - Hindu religious hymn sung in morning
Milk for meat
Hype for hope
Lies for love
Ashes for beauty
And yet we all said "amen"
Puppet master
Thy humble puppets, enthralled
...and we have anointed you;
To tell us ...
  What we want to hear
  What we want to read
   What we want to watch

You have execute thy duties;
Tickling our ears to perfection,
With feathers, dipped in ******
Our souls; numbed  
our hearts; tangled in lies.

The parade
The confetti
The Loyalist
An ovation;
To he who sits
lonely, on his throne;
Feeding our emotions,
In your own emptiness.
Sensationalism
Emotional
Temporarily
Seasonal
Hypnotized
Roller coaster ride...
We are dead, like the last generation.
In a world of high speed species,  we hardly pause for reflections and choosing wisely. We amen anything that has societal aura and illusions,  to the neglect of reality
Serenity Elliot Sep 2014
I’ve seen hell- and it’s white, snow white.

— The End —