The Mill

The Mill

This Prurient behavior
Neglects to need a Saviour
Obeisance will arraign you
When none but two sustain you
Extirpations venue opened wide
Old Bailey’s molded mind then tried
Cornwall’s unexceptional men
Who had no belief back then

-Tiers Esprit

(this one was written as an homage to John Stuart Mill.  I found while reading his works a passage referencing three atheists who were denied a right to a trial because not believing in the courts god makes their words unreliable.) Also there is some personal commentary in this about the religion I grew up in,  tell me if u spot it.

been posted before but still love it

here’s a favorite

‎#28
Sapiosexual lust engulfs the mind
The unaligned heart resonates in kind
Impressions of thoughts they never knew
Lead them to acts they would never do
Unrequited obsession fuels infernal fire
Sharp flicking tongues self-effacing funeral pyre
The lissome, lithe, limber, and nimble nymph
Left him medicated, malleable,
A marionette in maudlin maelstrom
Meagerly muttering malediction
Mendacious to this fiction

-Tiers Esprit

A Vacillation

From the peace atop the mountain of chaos, I tear myself apart descending into orders depravity. One step, then another. The paucity of speech, vacillations of intent; natural dismay to artificial calm. Mundane selfhood dissolved, dilute, dismissed. Echoes of eras past drowned out by the cacophony of the present and the trumpeting howls of the future. Are we better than we once were, with our silent tranquility replaced with opiates of sound and hallucinations of light. The casual happiness once attained, tainted by supplies demand. A hawk floats beyond the sun and out of sight.

-Tiers Esprit

lotus roots

lotus roots in my soul, and a blossom in my mind. Repeats the question whole, “how am ‘I’ defined?” Gross matter, etherial breathe, pure sensation or perceptions depth? I forgot how to begin, and so the end worries me. I’ll just take in the sin, and let the worries be. Long in the dark rooms of solitudes judgement. Long in the loneliness of metropolitan anonymity. Yearning for the primitive, that rectifies corruption. The dark untamed night, paranoia settles in, the light sleep of the animal I am and have always been. Meditation or vain imagination offers little rest, to the concerns always weighing down the cells like grapes get pressed. And all of this is rightly so, for if ever peace should come, I would not the world to know all I have not done.

-Tiers Esprit

hmmm…

Pot gives me ADD, then I get tired. So if I smoke in my free time I won’t get anything done.    However, it releases dopamine, or rather facilitates the release of, and such an effect can help create relaxation beneficial in an obsequious way to my mental health, and derived from that physical health.  Though such benefits might be outweighed by smoke inhalation alone, smoke inhalation is not the only objective downfall.  Therefore, a restriction needs to be placed on amount and frequency of consumption, preferably through less damaging routes of administration.

 Moderation is the key to the enjoyment of life.  Rousseau’s First Discourse then, can be debated in that the proper exercise not only of Buddhic moderation but also of Kantian enjoyment of Enlightenment, there exists a state where progress in virtues such as greed (haha or capitalism) an ideal state is created for the virtuous (honest) person who can revel in scientific learning, and be beneficent to a larger society.

#12

Remembering the tune of silence
When in stillness motions float
Embracing all the darkness
When the void of light appears

In quiet contemplation
peace regained within
and a new revelation
lost to another sin

one who does not speak
one who does not move
one who does not perceive
one who knows the truth 

-M.D.

#17

From the peace atop the mountain of chaos, I tear myself apart descending into orders depravity.  One step, then another. The paucity of speech, vacillations of intent; natural dismay to artificial calm.  Mundane selfhood dissolved, dilute, dismissed.  Echoes of eras past drowned out by the cacophony of the present and the trumpeting howls of the future.  Are we better than we once were, with our silent tranquility replaced with opiates of sound  and hallucinations of light.  The casual happiness once attained, tainted by supplies demand.  A hawk floats beyond the sun and out of sight.