#mill
朝が明ける前に、地図はすでに描かれていた。
敵地に書かれた名前は
最初の言葉が発せられる前に。
日食を見つめすぎて
光がどんなものか思い出せなかった。
あらゆる顔に影が
まだ照らされ続けようとしていた。
港はここにあった。
君はまるで天候のように、
波止場で揺れながら、
まるで岸が海を荒々しくしているように、やって来た。
8時間の静寂。
そして、死んだ哲学者の後…
まだ間違った座標で航海している。
まだ岸を嵐と間違えている。
恐怖は現実だ。日食は現実だ。
君が見ている敵も現実だ。
でも、君が何を狙ったのか、よく考えてみろ。
港は海と口論はしない。
ただ、海になることを拒んでいるだけだ。
地図を描き直せ。
岸はまだここにある。
同じ光。まだ待っています
The philosophers are restless in their graves. Mill is being passed around like a wanted poster at a town meeting where everyone already agreed on the verdict before the defendant arrived. Mill did not ask for this. Mill is tired. Mill has been tired since 1873.
Two thousand years ago a carpenter let a rich man walk away and did not run after him with "better" theology. This has never once been the sermon. This should always be the sermon. cslewis ordered another round and waited and waited and waited and this was considered weakness by people who have never grown anything.
Somewhere a seed is inside the ground pretending to be nothing.
It is not nothing.
It is just not yet.
Feb 28
Feb 28, 2026 at 7:46 PM UTC
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
Sep 17, 2019
Sep 17, 2019 at 8:14 AM UTC
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 *****
Aug 17, 2019
Aug 17, 2019 at 8:53 AM UTC
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.
Jan 4, 2018
Jan 4, 2018 at 2:07 PM UTC
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.
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 12:17 PM UTC
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?*
Oct 29, 2015
Oct 29, 2015 at 7:37 PM UTC
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.
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 12:18 PM UTC