All the best, hope you feel it to, its the things we can't change that should worry us the most, stop a while reflect on what is right, build and build, move all obstacles in sight, to let things simply be can just become a haunting echo.
Thursday, 30 November 2017
Some musical respite :Celt Islam ft.Masala - Revolution Inside Me
All the best, hope you feel it to, its the things we can't change that should worry us the most, stop a while reflect on what is right, build and build, move all obstacles in sight, to let things simply be can just become a haunting echo.
Wednesday, 29 November 2017
Desolation can be completed.
Hungry bellied
magnetic undulations of the wind,
our flowers are growing again as winter approaches
freedom has no ending, inside or outside,
whisked in the air ,a force beyond control
in all our wildness, the whiff of escapes radiant smile,
the animating power of expression
manifestations of delight in unknown,
open wounds can be closed by time itself
in moments of kindness, generate warmth,
where surge of spirit is keenly felt
remorse, regret can be abandoned,
distance can be covered without recall
with compassion and love on our lips,
desolation can be completed.
Labels:
# poetry #free verse
Tuesday, 28 November 2017
William Blake: Radical Visionary (28/11/1757 - 12/8/1827)
William Blake was a British, poet, painter, engraver, visionary who was born in the Soho district of London on November 28, 1757, to religious dissenting parents, James, a hosier, and Catherine Blake. Considered eccentric, if not mad, in his own day,he is now highly regarded as a seminal figure of the romantic age, and for his expressiveness and creativity, as well as the philosophical and mystical undercurrents that reside within his work
How the hell he's only got a fleeting mention here on this blog over the years cannot fathom because long have I admired and found inspiration from his life and work.
Two of his six siblings died in infancy, and from an early childhood, Blake spoke of having visions, at four he saw God “put his head to the window”; around age nine, while walking through the countryside, he allegedly saw the prophet Ezekiel under a tree and had a vision of "a tree filled with angels .These visions would have a lasting impact on the art and writings that he created.
His parents observed that he was different from his peers and did not force him to attend conventional school. He learned to read and write at home. At age ten, Blake expressed a wish to become a painter, so his parents sent him to drawing school. Two years later, Blake began writing poetry. When he turned fourteen, he apprenticed with James Basire, (because art school proved to costly),who was official engraver to the Society of Antiquaries. He sent Blake to draw the tombs and monuments at Westminster Abbey, a task which brought him to his lifelong love of Gothic art. After his seven-year term ended, he studied briefly at the Royal Academy.of Arts school of Design .where he began exhibiting his own works in 1780,
In 1782, he married an illiterate woman named Catherine Boucher. Blake taught her to read and to write, and also instructed her in draftsmanship. He also helped her to experience visions as he did. Catherine believed absolutely in her husbands visions and genius , and supported him in everything he did. She would help him print the illuminated poetry for which he best remembered today; the couple had no children. He was faithful to her despite writing about sexual energy and polygamy and their marriage remained a close and devoted one until his death.
In 1784 he set up a printshop with a friend and former fellow apprentice, James Parker, but this venture failed after several years. For the remainder of his life, Blake made a meager living as an engraver and illustrator for books and magazines. In addition to his wife, Blake also began training his younger brother Robert in drawing, painting, and engraving. Robert fell ill during the winter of 1787 and succumbed, probably to consumption. As Robert died, Blake saw his brother’s spirit rise up through the ceiling, “clapping its hands for joy.” He believed that Robert’s spirit continued to visit him and later claimed that in a dream Robert taught him the printing method that he used in Songs of Innocence and other “illuminated” works.
Blake’s first printed work, Poetical Sketches (1783), is a collection of apprentice verse, mostly imitating classical models. The poems protest against war, tyranny, and King George III’s treatment of the American colonies. The poem below To Autumn is taken from it. He published his most popular collection, Songs of Innocence, in 1789 and followed it, in 1794, with Songs of Experience. Some readers interpret Songs of Innocence in a straightforward fashion, considering it primarily a children’s book, but others have found hints at parody or critique in its seemingly naive and simple lyrics. Both books of Songs were printed in an illustrated format reminiscent of illuminated manuscripts. The text and illustrations were printed from copper plates, and each picture was finished by hand in watercolors.
Blake was a bold rebel and nonconformist all his life in both his thought and art who was once arrested on a trumped up charge of sedition. A man who hated tyranny and celebrated liberty and was influenced by the ideals and ambitions of the French and American revolutions and openly wore the red revolutionary bonnet in the streets. He espoused savage anarchy and also peace and love and was also an anti monarchist who found it necessary to protest conformity and war in his lifelong struggle for individualism.
He was associated with some of the leading radical thinkers of his day, such as Thomas Paine, William Godwin and Mary Wollstonecraft. In defiance of 18th-century neoclassical conventions, he valued imagination over reason in the creation of both his poetry and images, asserting that ideal forms should be constructed not from observations of nature but from inner visions. He declared in one poem, “I must create a system or be enslaved by another man’s.” Works such as “The French Revolution” (1791), “America, a Prophecy” (1793), “Visions of the Daughters of Albion” (1793), and “Europe, a Prophecy” (1794) express his opposition to the English monarchy, and to 18th-century political and social tyranny in general. Theological tyranny is the subject of The Book of Urizen (1794). In the prose work The Marriage of Heaven and Hell (1790-93), he satirized oppressive authority in church and state.He abhorred the way in which Christians looked up to a God enthroned in heaven, a view which offered a model for a hierarchical human politics, which subordinated the majority to a (supposedly) superior elite. He also criticised the dominant philosophy of his day which believed that a narrow view of sense experience could help us to understand everything that there was to be known, including God. Blake's own visionary experiences showed him that rationalism ignored important dimensions of human life which would enable people to hope, to look for change, and to rely on more than that which their senses told them.
Despite his famously radical politics and vehement rejection of much of the social establishment about him, he has since been affectionately adopted by a wide British public as a kind of patron saint. I believe it is precisely because of his politics and anti-establishment views that people feel so much affection for Blake.
While his poetry seemed to focus on the darker aspects of emotion, the texts still adhered to the characteristics typical of the Romantic Period. Blake, like many Romantics of his time, wanted to forge a new path for himself, idealize the individual, feeling over reason, importance of nature and imagination, and removal from corrupt limiting societies.
In 1800 Blake moved to the seacoast town of Felpham, where he lived and worked until 1803 under the patronage of William Hayley. He taught himself Greek, Latin, Hebrew, and Italian, so that he could read classical works in their original language. In Felpham he experienced profound spiritual insights that prepared him for his mature work, the great visionary epics written and etched between about 1804 and 1820. Milton (1804-08), Vala, or The Four Zoas (1797; rewritten after 1800), and Jerusalem (1804-20) They envision a new and higher kind of innocence, the human spirit triumphant over reason.
Blake believed that his poetry could be read and understood by common people, but he was determined not to sacrifice his vision in order to become popular. Blake’s final years, though spent in great poverty and periods of depression because of critical and public failure as an artist, he was cheered by the admiring friendship of a group of younger artists who called themselves “the Ancients.” In 1818 he met John Linnell, a young artist who helped him financially and also helped to create new interest in his work. It was Linnell who, in 1825, commissioned him to design illustrations for Dante's Divine Comedy.His engraving The Ancient of Days,was popular enough to generate commissions for reproductions. To our good fortune, Blake was happy to create several copies of his favorite engraving, at least a baker’s dozen and each one of them unique, the last of which was completed only a few weeks before his death in 1827 from gallstones.
In 1827, the last year of his life, Blake wrote to a friend about those Englishmen who despised “Republican Art” and who, after the French Revolution, thought they were in a “happy state of agreement to which I for One do not agree”. It is amazing that he appears to have retained his radicalism and confidence in humanity. He wrote in The Everlasting Gospel:
Thou art a Man, God is no more
Thy own humanity learn to adore”
On the actual day of his death, he drew one last portrait of his beloved wife, and died a few hours later. However Catherine believed that her husband's spirit remained with her. She continued to sell copies of his illuminated works and paintings, but would not agree to a sale before 'consulting Mr Blake.' On the day that she died, she cheerfully called out to her husband, as if they were in the sae room, that she was coming to him.
William Blake is buried in Bunhill Fields Burial Ground, City Road, Finsbury, London, England. This cemetery was originally the 'Dissenters' graveyard. There is no church attached to the cemetery and the ground is unconsecrated. Here Catherine too was buried four years later among other notable figures of dissent like Daniel Defoe and John Bunyan. A grave marker now stands near to where they were buried.
His works have since been used by people rebelling against a wide range of issues, such as war, conformity, and almost every kind of repression. In the present day among our own progressive idylls we can be like Blake and continue to dream of heaven on Earth, building the new Jerusalem, the new moral world and a restored Albion of free and equal imaginations.
I conclude with this set of four seasonal poems written by Blake, aptly titled "To Spring,” and “To Summer.” 'To Autumn" "To Winter" these seasonal invocations can be read alone, but Blake also intended them to interconnect. The personas of the seasons can be read as counterparts to Blake’s spirits: Tharmas (most like spring), Orc (most like summer), Los (most like autumn), and Urizen (most like winter).In the poem Blake hints at the promise of future growth. Within the harvest are the seeds for future crops. As Autumn flies over the bleak hills to make way for Winter, he leaves behind “his golden load”: an abundance of food, seeds for the Spring, and a feeling of joyous celebration, reflecting his particular view of human nature.
To Spring
O thou with dewy locks, who lookest down
Thro' the clear windows of the morning, turn
Thine angel eyes upon our western isle,
Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring!
The hills tell each other, and the listening
Valleys hear; all our longing eyes are turned
Up to thy bright pavilions: issue forth,
And let thy holy feet visit our clime.
Come o'er the eastern hills, and let our winds
Kiss thy perfumed garments; let us taste
Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls
Upon our love-sick land that mourns for thee.
O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour
Thy soft kisses on her bosom; and put
Thy golden crown upon her languished head,
Whose modest tresses were bound up for thee.
To Summer
To Autumn
O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stainèd
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
Beneath my shady roof; there thou may’st rest,
And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe,
And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.
The narrow bud opens her beauties to
The sun, and love runs in her thrilling veins;
Blossoms hang round the brows of
Morning, and Flourish down the bright cheek of modest Eve,
Till clust’ring Summer breaks forth into singing,
And feather’d clouds strew flowers round her head.
The spirits of the air live on the smells
Of fruit; and Joy, with pinions light, roves round
The gardens, or sits singing in the trees.“
Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat;
Then rose, girded himself, and o’er the bleak
Hills fled from our sight; but left his golden load.
To Winter
O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors:
The north is thine; there hast thou built thy dark
Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs,
Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.'
He hears me not, but o'er the yawning deep
Rides heavy; his storms are unchain'd, sheathèd
In ribbèd steel; I dare not lift mine eyes,
For he hath rear'd his sceptre o'er the world.
Lo! now the direful monster, whose 1000 skin clings
To his strong bones, strides o'er the groaning rocks:
He withers all in silence, and in his hand
Unclothes the earth, and freezes up frail life.
He takes his seat upon the cliffs,--the mariner
Cries in vain. Poor little wretch, that deal'st
With storms!--till heaven smiles, and the monster
Is driv'n yelling to his caves beneath mount Hecla.
The following two sites contain useful material and links about William Blake :-
http://www.betatesters.com/penn/blake.htm
http://jefferson.village.virginia.edu/blake/
I strongly recommend the following books too :-
William Blake: The Complete Illuminated Books (reproductions from the Blake Trust, with introduction by David Bindman, Thames & Hudson, W.W. Norton & Co., 2001)
The Complete Poetry & Prose of William Blake (ed. David Erdman, with commentary by Harold Bloom, revised edition, Anchor, 1997)
William Blake : Visionary Anarchist - Peter Marshall , Freedom Press
In the following video, author, poet Iain Sinclair gives an inside look to the history behind Blake’s radical works.
How the hell he's only got a fleeting mention here on this blog over the years cannot fathom because long have I admired and found inspiration from his life and work.
Two of his six siblings died in infancy, and from an early childhood, Blake spoke of having visions, at four he saw God “put his head to the window”; around age nine, while walking through the countryside, he allegedly saw the prophet Ezekiel under a tree and had a vision of "a tree filled with angels .These visions would have a lasting impact on the art and writings that he created.
His parents observed that he was different from his peers and did not force him to attend conventional school. He learned to read and write at home. At age ten, Blake expressed a wish to become a painter, so his parents sent him to drawing school. Two years later, Blake began writing poetry. When he turned fourteen, he apprenticed with James Basire, (because art school proved to costly),who was official engraver to the Society of Antiquaries. He sent Blake to draw the tombs and monuments at Westminster Abbey, a task which brought him to his lifelong love of Gothic art. After his seven-year term ended, he studied briefly at the Royal Academy.of Arts school of Design .where he began exhibiting his own works in 1780,
In 1782, he married an illiterate woman named Catherine Boucher. Blake taught her to read and to write, and also instructed her in draftsmanship. He also helped her to experience visions as he did. Catherine believed absolutely in her husbands visions and genius , and supported him in everything he did. She would help him print the illuminated poetry for which he best remembered today; the couple had no children. He was faithful to her despite writing about sexual energy and polygamy and their marriage remained a close and devoted one until his death.
In 1784 he set up a printshop with a friend and former fellow apprentice, James Parker, but this venture failed after several years. For the remainder of his life, Blake made a meager living as an engraver and illustrator for books and magazines. In addition to his wife, Blake also began training his younger brother Robert in drawing, painting, and engraving. Robert fell ill during the winter of 1787 and succumbed, probably to consumption. As Robert died, Blake saw his brother’s spirit rise up through the ceiling, “clapping its hands for joy.” He believed that Robert’s spirit continued to visit him and later claimed that in a dream Robert taught him the printing method that he used in Songs of Innocence and other “illuminated” works.
Blake’s first printed work, Poetical Sketches (1783), is a collection of apprentice verse, mostly imitating classical models. The poems protest against war, tyranny, and King George III’s treatment of the American colonies. The poem below To Autumn is taken from it. He published his most popular collection, Songs of Innocence, in 1789 and followed it, in 1794, with Songs of Experience. Some readers interpret Songs of Innocence in a straightforward fashion, considering it primarily a children’s book, but others have found hints at parody or critique in its seemingly naive and simple lyrics. Both books of Songs were printed in an illustrated format reminiscent of illuminated manuscripts. The text and illustrations were printed from copper plates, and each picture was finished by hand in watercolors.
Blake was a bold rebel and nonconformist all his life in both his thought and art who was once arrested on a trumped up charge of sedition. A man who hated tyranny and celebrated liberty and was influenced by the ideals and ambitions of the French and American revolutions and openly wore the red revolutionary bonnet in the streets. He espoused savage anarchy and also peace and love and was also an anti monarchist who found it necessary to protest conformity and war in his lifelong struggle for individualism.
He was associated with some of the leading radical thinkers of his day, such as Thomas Paine, William Godwin and Mary Wollstonecraft. In defiance of 18th-century neoclassical conventions, he valued imagination over reason in the creation of both his poetry and images, asserting that ideal forms should be constructed not from observations of nature but from inner visions. He declared in one poem, “I must create a system or be enslaved by another man’s.” Works such as “The French Revolution” (1791), “America, a Prophecy” (1793), “Visions of the Daughters of Albion” (1793), and “Europe, a Prophecy” (1794) express his opposition to the English monarchy, and to 18th-century political and social tyranny in general. Theological tyranny is the subject of The Book of Urizen (1794). In the prose work The Marriage of Heaven and Hell (1790-93), he satirized oppressive authority in church and state.He abhorred the way in which Christians looked up to a God enthroned in heaven, a view which offered a model for a hierarchical human politics, which subordinated the majority to a (supposedly) superior elite. He also criticised the dominant philosophy of his day which believed that a narrow view of sense experience could help us to understand everything that there was to be known, including God. Blake's own visionary experiences showed him that rationalism ignored important dimensions of human life which would enable people to hope, to look for change, and to rely on more than that which their senses told them.
Despite his famously radical politics and vehement rejection of much of the social establishment about him, he has since been affectionately adopted by a wide British public as a kind of patron saint. I believe it is precisely because of his politics and anti-establishment views that people feel so much affection for Blake.
While his poetry seemed to focus on the darker aspects of emotion, the texts still adhered to the characteristics typical of the Romantic Period. Blake, like many Romantics of his time, wanted to forge a new path for himself, idealize the individual, feeling over reason, importance of nature and imagination, and removal from corrupt limiting societies.
In 1800 Blake moved to the seacoast town of Felpham, where he lived and worked until 1803 under the patronage of William Hayley. He taught himself Greek, Latin, Hebrew, and Italian, so that he could read classical works in their original language. In Felpham he experienced profound spiritual insights that prepared him for his mature work, the great visionary epics written and etched between about 1804 and 1820. Milton (1804-08), Vala, or The Four Zoas (1797; rewritten after 1800), and Jerusalem (1804-20) They envision a new and higher kind of innocence, the human spirit triumphant over reason.
Blake believed that his poetry could be read and understood by common people, but he was determined not to sacrifice his vision in order to become popular. Blake’s final years, though spent in great poverty and periods of depression because of critical and public failure as an artist, he was cheered by the admiring friendship of a group of younger artists who called themselves “the Ancients.” In 1818 he met John Linnell, a young artist who helped him financially and also helped to create new interest in his work. It was Linnell who, in 1825, commissioned him to design illustrations for Dante's Divine Comedy.His engraving The Ancient of Days,was popular enough to generate commissions for reproductions. To our good fortune, Blake was happy to create several copies of his favorite engraving, at least a baker’s dozen and each one of them unique, the last of which was completed only a few weeks before his death in 1827 from gallstones.
In 1827, the last year of his life, Blake wrote to a friend about those Englishmen who despised “Republican Art” and who, after the French Revolution, thought they were in a “happy state of agreement to which I for One do not agree”. It is amazing that he appears to have retained his radicalism and confidence in humanity. He wrote in The Everlasting Gospel:
Thou art a Man, God is no more
Thy own humanity learn to adore”
On the actual day of his death, he drew one last portrait of his beloved wife, and died a few hours later. However Catherine believed that her husband's spirit remained with her. She continued to sell copies of his illuminated works and paintings, but would not agree to a sale before 'consulting Mr Blake.' On the day that she died, she cheerfully called out to her husband, as if they were in the sae room, that she was coming to him.
William Blake is buried in Bunhill Fields Burial Ground, City Road, Finsbury, London, England. This cemetery was originally the 'Dissenters' graveyard. There is no church attached to the cemetery and the ground is unconsecrated. Here Catherine too was buried four years later among other notable figures of dissent like Daniel Defoe and John Bunyan. A grave marker now stands near to where they were buried.
His works have since been used by people rebelling against a wide range of issues, such as war, conformity, and almost every kind of repression. In the present day among our own progressive idylls we can be like Blake and continue to dream of heaven on Earth, building the new Jerusalem, the new moral world and a restored Albion of free and equal imaginations.
I conclude with this set of four seasonal poems written by Blake, aptly titled "To Spring,” and “To Summer.” 'To Autumn" "To Winter" these seasonal invocations can be read alone, but Blake also intended them to interconnect. The personas of the seasons can be read as counterparts to Blake’s spirits: Tharmas (most like spring), Orc (most like summer), Los (most like autumn), and Urizen (most like winter).In the poem Blake hints at the promise of future growth. Within the harvest are the seeds for future crops. As Autumn flies over the bleak hills to make way for Winter, he leaves behind “his golden load”: an abundance of food, seeds for the Spring, and a feeling of joyous celebration, reflecting his particular view of human nature.
To Spring
O thou with dewy locks, who lookest down
Thro' the clear windows of the morning, turn
Thine angel eyes upon our western isle,
Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring!
The hills tell each other, and the listening
Valleys hear; all our longing eyes are turned
Up to thy bright pavilions: issue forth,
And let thy holy feet visit our clime.
Come o'er the eastern hills, and let our winds
Kiss thy perfumed garments; let us taste
Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls
Upon our love-sick land that mourns for thee.
O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour
Thy soft kisses on her bosom; and put
Thy golden crown upon her languished head,
Whose modest tresses were bound up for thee.
To Summer
O Thou who passest thro’ our vallies in
Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat
That flames from their large nostrils! thou, O Summer,
Oft pitched’st here thy golden tent, and oft
Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld
With joy, thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair.
Beneath our thickest shades we oft have heard
Thy voice, when noon upon his fervid car
Rode o’er the deep of heaven; beside our springs
Sit down, and in our mossy vallies, on
Some bank beside a river clear, throw thy
Silk draperies off, and rush into the stream:
Our vallies love the Summer in his pride.
Our bards are fam’d who strike the silver wire:
Our youth are bolder than the southern swains:
Our maidens fairer in the sprightly dance:
We lack not songs, nor instruments of joy,
Nor echoes sweet, nor waters clear as heaven,
Nor laurel wreaths against the sultry heat.
Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat
That flames from their large nostrils! thou, O Summer,
Oft pitched’st here thy golden tent, and oft
Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld
With joy, thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair.
Beneath our thickest shades we oft have heard
Thy voice, when noon upon his fervid car
Rode o’er the deep of heaven; beside our springs
Sit down, and in our mossy vallies, on
Some bank beside a river clear, throw thy
Silk draperies off, and rush into the stream:
Our vallies love the Summer in his pride.
Our bards are fam’d who strike the silver wire:
Our youth are bolder than the southern swains:
Our maidens fairer in the sprightly dance:
We lack not songs, nor instruments of joy,
Nor echoes sweet, nor waters clear as heaven,
Nor laurel wreaths against the sultry heat.
To Autumn
O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stainèd
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
Beneath my shady roof; there thou may’st rest,
And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe,
And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.
The narrow bud opens her beauties to
The sun, and love runs in her thrilling veins;
Blossoms hang round the brows of
Morning, and Flourish down the bright cheek of modest Eve,
Till clust’ring Summer breaks forth into singing,
And feather’d clouds strew flowers round her head.
The spirits of the air live on the smells
Of fruit; and Joy, with pinions light, roves round
The gardens, or sits singing in the trees.“
Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat;
Then rose, girded himself, and o’er the bleak
Hills fled from our sight; but left his golden load.
To Winter
O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors:
The north is thine; there hast thou built thy dark
Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs,
Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.'
He hears me not, but o'er the yawning deep
Rides heavy; his storms are unchain'd, sheathèd
In ribbèd steel; I dare not lift mine eyes,
For he hath rear'd his sceptre o'er the world.
Lo! now the direful monster, whose 1000 skin clings
To his strong bones, strides o'er the groaning rocks:
He withers all in silence, and in his hand
Unclothes the earth, and freezes up frail life.
He takes his seat upon the cliffs,--the mariner
Cries in vain. Poor little wretch, that deal'st
With storms!--till heaven smiles, and the monster
Is driv'n yelling to his caves beneath mount Hecla.
The following two sites contain useful material and links about William Blake :-
http://www.betatesters.com/penn/blake.htm
http://jefferson.village.virginia.edu/blake/
I strongly recommend the following books too :-
William Blake: The Complete Illuminated Books (reproductions from the Blake Trust, with introduction by David Bindman, Thames & Hudson, W.W. Norton & Co., 2001)
The Complete Poetry & Prose of William Blake (ed. David Erdman, with commentary by Harold Bloom, revised edition, Anchor, 1997)
William Blake : Visionary Anarchist - Peter Marshall , Freedom Press
In the following video, author, poet Iain Sinclair gives an inside look to the history behind Blake’s radical works.
Another Royal wedding announced, lets not get too distracted :Welfare not fanfare
The nation woke up yesterday to the news that Prince Harry and the American actress Megan Markhle were engaged after a whirlwind romance. It is always nice to hear of couples falling in love, but before we get carried away, lets not forget that the last Royal Wedding cost the taxpayer a whopping £20-39 million for security alone. This one i'm sure is going to be a truly extravagent opulent affair too at at time when millions of peoples benefits are being frozen for another year,being pushed into poverty, cannot afford to eat and are forced to resort to using food banks in order to survive.
We are supposed to be living in an age of austerity where the poorest among us have to make sacrifice after sacrifice, yet Prince Harry and his relations are still able live out their lives in royal palaces, surrounded by servants and all their vestiges of privilege.
Somehow in the 21st Century they are still celebrated as being somehow more superior than mere commoners, who living through hard times have to struggle every day simply to make ends meet, and somehow express gratitude to the royals for lording it over them.
Harry's dad Charles, it has been reported is likely to pick up most of the bill for what is said to be a Spring 2018 wedding and reception, even if custom dictates otherwise, but where does he get his money from, mostly from the Duchy and Cornwall estate, where he does not have to pay corporation tax or capital gains tax, and effectively this royal tax dodger gets the rest of his money from the British taxpayer, so not really going to cost him a penny.
Who knows it all might actually lead to a shift in direction, good old harry boy might choose to give up his Royal privileges and entitlements and choose to live with his future wife as an ordinary person, now if that happened, I would actually applaud and truly consider that to be a noble thing. In the meantime however please forgive me for my lack of enthusiasm for the royal wedding that has just been announced, I am not a complete killjoy, I hope even as a committed republican that their love lasts , and they have a nice time together, but I simply don't think their wedding should come to the cost of ordinary people across the land, while many are facing such hardship. The news I would prefer to see is how the Tories are going to address inequality and anger over austerity after seven years of austerity and cuts instead.
I really do believe that we should all be paying more attention to things like the diastrous roll out of universal credit, the poverty that is facing many at the present time, instead of focussing on what seems to me, call me a cynic, to be a classic distraction excercise, when the hardest hit are paying the price for the excesses of a few. So I say instead welfare not fanfare and Tories out for Christmas, now that is something I truly would celebrate.
At end of day the British monarchy, despite its great wealth, and long traditions based on elitism, has little real power now, there is a rise in people who have simply had enough, and want to seek to transform society for the better, and would actually like to see the end of the monarchy, this tired old institution once for all. Here is a link to Republic, the anti-monarchy campaign group for an elected head of state, who at least had the tenacity to issue a one worded statement : "Congratulations."
https://www.republic.org.uk/
Monday, 27 November 2017
Travelling light
I trust never knowing
But Love keeps floating,
Besides dreams ever flowing
Tideless waves of time growing,
Sparks of reality,that rekindle fire
Releasing the thirst of desire,
Not empty figments of imagination
Mind staying free, still burning bright,
Finding courage not despair
No good will be found there;
Clinging on am still afloat
Travelling light, gaze remains fixed,
Carried by powerful forces
Flowing onwards, gaining momentum,
While nature awakens, freedom echoes
Waiting only for a new tomorrow.
Labels:
'#poetry,
#free verse
Sunday, 26 November 2017
I never spoke up
We must keep speaking out for all those currently under attack, we know that disabled people face prejudice and hatred on a daily basis. In a recent survey, 4% of disabled people said they had been physically attacked and 16% of disabled people had had people act aggressively or in a hostile way towards them. We also know that hardly anyone ever reports such crimes to the police.
Meanwhile our Government which we should all be ashamed off are carrying on with policies and cuts that are taking away support to those that need it most . Insane immoral policies that are pushing many to the brink, as the Government plunges to new depths. Lets not forget that over 10,000 sick and disabled people have already died as a direct result of the Governments welfare reforms. The tories will not stop they are simply out of control, the suffering they continue to cause is immeasurable, after the disabled and the unemployed now they are coming for the doctors,the nurses, firefighters, domestic abuse workers,rape crisis centres, childrens centres etc etc
This is how it works they will take away peoples support, break peoples will for resistance, leave people broken without the means to fight back. So together we must stop them in their tracks.If we never speak out against their cruelty and injustice , then we are all just as bad.
Wednesday, 22 November 2017
Animals have no emotions or feelings according to British Government!
Photo by wildlife photographer Richard Bowler
Animals apparently have no feelings or emotions according to Michael Gove and 312 Members of Parliament , who voted in favour of rejecting a clause this week that would have enshrined into UK law the recognition that animals are sentient, an admission currently covered by EU law.
Green MP Caroline Lucas submitted the clause as part of the EU withdrawal bill. Some 80% of animal welfare legislation currently comes from the EU but after March 2019 European law will no longer apply in the UK.
The move has been criticised by animal rights activists, who say the vote undermines environment secretary Michael Gove’s pledge to prioritise animal rights during Brexit. One of the arguments put forward by the Government during the debate was that animal sentience is covered by the Animal Welfare Act 2006.The RSPCA, however, said this is not the case; the term sentience or sentient being doesn’t appear once in that Act, and, the animal welfare charity said, doesn’t cover all animals.The majority of animal welfare legislation comes from the EU. The UK Government is tasked with adopting EU laws directly after March 2019 but has now dismissed animal sentience.
Prominent wildlife photographer Richard Bowler also disagrees, and in a Facebook post, which has already been shared hundreds of times, Bowler says: “MP’s have voted and in their wisdom, animals can no longer feel pain or emotions.
“It really beggars belief that in this day and age, this shower of a government no longer recognises animals as sentient beings. None of them could have had a pet dog, greet them when they come home.“But it’s not just domestic animals that show love and affection.”
Bowler posted the above photo of a fox in a heartfelt plea to his Facebook audience:
"So MP's have voted and in their wisdom, animals can no longer feel pain or emotions. It really beggars belief that in this day and age, this shower of a government no longer recognises animals as sentient beings. None of them could have had a pet dog, greet them when they come home. But it's not just domestic animals that show love and affection. The photograph shows Rosie and how she greets me, every time I visit her. Are you telling me there's no emotion there, what you can...'t see is the wagging tail and the squeals of excitement as well. All three foxes I care for have built a bond with Maddy our terrier, she is greeted in exactly the same way. It's not hard to imagine that if bonds like this can be formed inter species, that the same bonds can be formed between a dog fox and a vixen and their cubs. In fact so called pest controllers use this to their advantage, after shooting the vixen they will often wait, knowing the dog fox will show up, to mourn if you like. Anyone who's seen elephant documentaries when families visit the bones of their dead can not fail to see that there are emotions going on there. Science is showing more and more animal intelligence and emotions and yet our government has yet again ignored it. There can only be one reason to deny animal sentient status, and that is to exploit them.Here's a link to an article about it
https://www.farminguk.com/…/MPs-vote-to-reject-inclusion-of…
He continued:
“The photograph shows Rosie and how she greets me, every time I visit her. Are you telling me there’s no emotion there, what you can’t see is the wagging tale and the squeals of excitement as well.
“All three foxes I care for have built a bond with Maddy our terrier, she is greeted in exactly the same way. It’s not hard to imagine that if bonds like this can be formed inter species, that the same bonds can be formed between a dog fox and a vixen and their cubs.
“In fact so called pest controllers use this to their advantage, after shooting the vixen they will often wait, knowing the dog fox will show up, to mourn if you like. Anyone who’s seen elephant documentaries when families visit the bones of their dead can not fail to see that there are emotions going on there.
“Science is showing more and more animal intelligence and emotions and yet our government has yet again ignored it. There can only be one reason to deny animal sentient status, and that is to exploit them.”
Thousands have since signed a petition on campaigning website 38 degrees urging the Tories to reverse this decision.
It states: “Animals have long held the status of being sentient beings in the UK, through legislation created in the EU.
“This means they are recognised as being capable of feeling emotions such as joy and compassion, but also fear, suffering and terror.
“The vote in parliament, narrowly won by the government, removes this status from all animals in the UK, and is a massive blow for the welfare of wildlife, pets and livestock alike.”
One signatory said: “Anyone who has had a pet or worked with livestock clearly understand that these animals are sentient and deserve the best standards of welfare.”
Another commented: “It is inconceivable to deny animals recognition of their completely obvious sentience. This must be repealed.”
However it does not really come as to much a surprise though, because it is a well known fact that the Tories themselves that have proven time and time again to be devoid of any compassion to humans let alone animals. But serves to remind us of how short sighted and heartless they all bloody are.
These by the way are MPs who voted down legislation on animals feeilning pain and emotion as part of Brexit Bill . https://www.indy100.com/article/animal-rights-vote-mps-list-eu-brexit-voted-animals-not-feel-no-emotions-313-conservative-party-tory-8068691
“This means they are recognised as being capable of feeling emotions such as joy and compassion, but also fear, suffering and terror.
“The vote in parliament, narrowly won by the government, removes this status from all animals in the UK, and is a massive blow for the welfare of wildlife, pets and livestock alike.”
One signatory said: “Anyone who has had a pet or worked with livestock clearly understand that these animals are sentient and deserve the best standards of welfare.”
Another commented: “It is inconceivable to deny animals recognition of their completely obvious sentience. This must be repealed.”
However it does not really come as to much a surprise though, because it is a well known fact that the Tories themselves that have proven time and time again to be devoid of any compassion to humans let alone animals. But serves to remind us of how short sighted and heartless they all bloody are.
These by the way are MPs who voted down legislation on animals feeilning pain and emotion as part of Brexit Bill . https://www.indy100.com/article/animal-rights-vote-mps-list-eu-brexit-voted-animals-not-feel-no-emotions-313-conservative-party-tory-8068691
Monday, 20 November 2017
If you've bought any of these 11 things, you've helped fund the Tories
Here are eleven well-known brands and products where shareholders of the company - or the company itself - has donated to the Tories, the party of the few, the rich and the privileged in this country.
They aren't the biggest donors by any means , fat cat donors, bankers , business tycoons are also pumping loads of cash into the Tory Party war chest. As the tories continue to court wealthy donors and businesses meanwhile ordinary people everyday are finding life increasingly more difficult to manage, facing challenging times.. Buying the following 11 things means you have sent money to the Conservatives. If you don't support the Tories and have inadvertantly bought any of the following, please reconsider your habits, stop helping the Tories out, their certainly not helping us out.
1. Melton Mowbray Pork Pies and Ginster Pies
The popular pies are owned by Samworth Brothers Ltd.
Director Mark Samworth has donated £585,000 to the Tories since 2010. Additionally, Samworth Brothers Ltd, the company itself, donated £32,000 to the party in 2002 and 2003.
Life President of the company, David Samworth, has donated just over £26,000.
In total, Samworth and those involved in the company have donated nearly £650,000 to the Tories.
Think about that next time you sit down alone and microwave yourself a depressingly limp cornish pasty.
2. Next clothing and accessories
Next CEO lord Wolfson has donated more than £400,000 to the tories since 2006. He was made a Conservative party peer by David Cameron in 2010.
Next made record £695m profits last year and is facing a trade union campaign by the GMB trade union to pay a living wage to staff.
3. Autotrader magazine
Autotrader is owned by Apax the private equity firm run by Tory Donor Adrian Beercroft, after it was bought from the owners of the Guardian newspaper through a controversial offshore deal in the Cayman Islands.
Beecroft, who has donated £593,000 to the Tories, wrote a notorious report for Downing Street recommending that a string of workers rights be scrapped so bosses can sack workers at will.
4. The Wombles
Mike Batt wrote six Wombles albums between 1973 and 1978. Batt has donated £112,500 to the Tories since 2001. If you've bought any Womble music (who hasn't) or listened to "Remember You're a Womble" in order to remind yourself that you're a Womble, you have inadvertently given money to the tories.
5. Woking football club
Owned by Surrey businessman Chris Ingram. He's donated nearly £175,000 to the tories since 2008. So if you support Woking you also support the Tories
6. Warbutons
This well-known bakery gave the Tories a £25,000 donation in the run up to the 2010 election, after David Cameron held a press conference at the firm's Bolton HQ and was pictured in front of a wall of Warburtons loaves.
7.Crombie coats
Owned by former Tory vice-chairman Alan Lewis, who has donated £246,000 to the Conservative Party. Part of Crombie's parent company Hartley Investment Trust is owned offshore on the Isle of Man. Most people I see wearing a Crombie I avoid anyway because I have suspicions their probably Tories.
8. Soreen Meat Loaf
Soreen is also owned by Samworth Brothers who donated £650,000 to the Conservatives. The search continues for a non-politically aligned malt-loaf.
9. Lycamobile
lycamobile is a virtual phone network set up in 2006. They sell international Sim cards to consumers who want to make international phone calls /
The company donated a massive £827,562 to the Tory party between 2011 and December 2015..
10. Bet Fair
Bet Fair founder and shareholder Edward Wray has donated just under £210,000 to the tories since 2010. If you've ever gambled using Betfair and lost, your loss has been the Tories gain.
11.Karl Liegerfield clothes
If you've ever bought any Karl Lagerfeld clothes you have inadvertently donated to the Tories. The label is also owned by Apax, who have donated £593,000 to the Tories.Not the 81 year old fashion designer, but the fashion label itself.
This data was found by the Mirror, who drew their data from the Electoral Commission and Searchthemoney
Bet Fair founder and shareholder Edward Wray has donated just under £210,000 to the tories since 2010. If you've ever gambled using Betfair and lost, your loss has been the Tories gain.
11.Karl Liegerfield clothes
If you've ever bought any Karl Lagerfeld clothes you have inadvertently donated to the Tories. The label is also owned by Apax, who have donated £593,000 to the Tories.Not the 81 year old fashion designer, but the fashion label itself.
This data was found by the Mirror, who drew their data from the Electoral Commission and Searchthemoney
Friday, 17 November 2017
Voltaraine de Cleyre (17/11/ 1866 - 20/6/1912) - Poet of Freedom
Voltaraine de Cleyre was an American anarchist-feminist , atheist, poet and free thinker who was born on 17 November 1866 in Leslie, Michigan, a small town south of Lansing. Her parents, who were impoverished tailors,
They left Leslie when Voltairine was about one year old, following the accidental drowning death of another daughter, Marion, at the age of five. The family moved to St. Johns, Michigan, a town on the north side of Lansing .Despite the objections of Voltairine's mother, her father, an atheist and admirer of Voltaire, created her distinctive given name to commemorate his own beliefs.
She was placed as a teenager into a Catholic convent in Sarnia, Ontario by her father, because he thought it would give her a better education. Of her time in the convent, she said, "it had been like the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and there are white scars on my soul, where ignorance and superstition burnt me with their hell fire in those stifling days"
She was placed as a teenager into a Catholic convent in Sarnia, Ontario by her father, because he thought it would give her a better education. Of her time in the convent, she said, "it had been like the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and there are white scars on my soul, where ignorance and superstition burnt me with their hell fire in those stifling days"
She attempted to run away by swimming to Port Huron, Michigan, and hiking 17 miles but was returned by her father after being found by family friends. This in combination with family ties to the Abolitionist movement and the Underground Railroad, as well as her namesake (the philosopher Voltaire), contributed to the radical rhetoric she developed.
She was a prolific writer and speaker, opposing the State, marriage, and the domination of the Church in sexuality and women's lives. de Cleyre at first subscribed to the individualist school of anarchism, but later called herself only an Anarchist, shunning doctrinal fractiousness. She was a colleague of Emma Goldman's. Goldman called her " the most gifted and brilliant woman anarchist America has ever produced," She differentiated herself from Emma Goldman, however stating, "Miss Goldman is a communist; I am an individualist. She wishes to destroy the right of property, I wish to assert it. I make my war upon privilege and authority, whereby the right of property, the true right in that which is proper to the individual, is annihilated. She believes that co-operation would entirely supplant competition; I hold that competition in one form or another will always exist, and that it is highly desirable it should."
During her time in the freethought movement in the mid and late 1880s, de Cleyre was especially influenced by Thomas Paine, Mary Wollstonecraft, and Clarence Darrow. Other influences were Henry David Thoreau, Big Bill Haywood, and Eugene Debs. After the execution of four innocent anarchists in 1887 for the Haymarket bombing was the turning point of Voltairine's life and she became an anarchist. "Till then I believed in the essential justice of the American law of trial by jury," she wrote in an autobiographical essay, "After that I never could".
In 1888, she threw herself into the anarchist movement, dedicating herself passionately and unceasingly to the cause of liberty for the rest of her life. She was known as an excellent speaker and writer , in the opinion of biographer Paul Avrich, she was "a greater literary talent than any other American anarchist" who was “A brief comet in the anarchist firmament, blazing out quickly and soon forgotten by all but a small circle of comrades whose love and devotion persisted long after her death.” But “her memory,” continues Avrich, “possesses the glow of legend.” and as a tireless advocate for the anarchist cause, whose "religious zeal," according to Goldman, "stamped everything she did."
Voltairine wrote and lectured on such subjects as "Sex Slavery", "Love in Freedom", "Those Who Marry Do Ill", and "The Case of Women vs. Orthodoxy".
The Voltairine de Cleyre Reader
http://libcom.org/library/voltairine-de-cleyre-reader
Love's Ghost - Voltaraine de Cleyre
Among the leaves and the rolls of moonlight,
The moon, which weaves lace on the road-white
Among the winds, and among the flowers,
Our blithe feet wander --life is ours!
Life is ours, and life is loving;
All our powers are locked in loving;
Hearts, and eyeys, and lips are moving
With the ecstasy of loving.
Ah! the roses! they are blooming;
And the June air, throbbing, tuning,
Sings of Love's eternal summer--
Chants of Joy, life's only Comer;
And we clsp our hands together,
Singing in the war, sweet weather;
Kissing, thrilling with caressing,
All the sweet from Love's rose pressing.
Ah, so easy!--Earth is Heaven,--
Darkness, shadows, do not live;
Like the rose our hearts are given,
Like the rose whos blom is given,
To the sun-gold, and the heaven.
Not because it wills or wishes,
But because 'tis life to give.
I am - Voltaraine de Cleyre
She was a prolific writer and speaker, opposing the State, marriage, and the domination of the Church in sexuality and women's lives. de Cleyre at first subscribed to the individualist school of anarchism, but later called herself only an Anarchist, shunning doctrinal fractiousness. She was a colleague of Emma Goldman's. Goldman called her " the most gifted and brilliant woman anarchist America has ever produced," She differentiated herself from Emma Goldman, however stating, "Miss Goldman is a communist; I am an individualist. She wishes to destroy the right of property, I wish to assert it. I make my war upon privilege and authority, whereby the right of property, the true right in that which is proper to the individual, is annihilated. She believes that co-operation would entirely supplant competition; I hold that competition in one form or another will always exist, and that it is highly desirable it should."
During her time in the freethought movement in the mid and late 1880s, de Cleyre was especially influenced by Thomas Paine, Mary Wollstonecraft, and Clarence Darrow. Other influences were Henry David Thoreau, Big Bill Haywood, and Eugene Debs. After the execution of four innocent anarchists in 1887 for the Haymarket bombing was the turning point of Voltairine's life and she became an anarchist. "Till then I believed in the essential justice of the American law of trial by jury," she wrote in an autobiographical essay, "After that I never could".
In 1888, she threw herself into the anarchist movement, dedicating herself passionately and unceasingly to the cause of liberty for the rest of her life. She was known as an excellent speaker and writer , in the opinion of biographer Paul Avrich, she was "a greater literary talent than any other American anarchist" who was “A brief comet in the anarchist firmament, blazing out quickly and soon forgotten by all but a small circle of comrades whose love and devotion persisted long after her death.” But “her memory,” continues Avrich, “possesses the glow of legend.” and as a tireless advocate for the anarchist cause, whose "religious zeal," according to Goldman, "stamped everything she did."
Voltairine wrote and lectured on such subjects as "Sex Slavery", "Love in Freedom", "Those Who Marry Do Ill", and "The Case of Women vs. Orthodoxy".
As well as advocating for workers' control of production, she attacked female beauty ideals, gender roles for children and marriage laws which allowed men to rape their wives , while she advocated for economic independence for women, birth control, sex education, and the right of women to maintain autonomy in relationships , including maintaining a room of one's own so as to keep one's independence. All this is something that she did throughout her life, despite poverty. Anarchist women like de Cleyre and Emma Goldman challenged patriarchal power in society and in the anarchist movement.
She was also a prolific writer of poetry of much depth.Throughout her life though she was plagued by illness and depression, attempting suicide on at least two occasions and surviving an assassination attempt on December 19, 1902. Her assailant, Herman Helcher, was a former pupil who had earlier been rendered insane by a fever, and whom she immediately forgave. She wrote, "It would be an outrage against civilization if he were sent to jail for an act which was the product of a diseased brain". The attack left her with chronic ear pain and a throat infection that often adversely affected her ability to speak or concentrate but still managed to get back on the lecture circuit 3 months later.
Voltairine de Cleyre died prematurely at the age of 45 on June 20, 1912, at St. Mary of Nazareth Hospital in Chicago, Illinois from septic meningitis. remaining as she had lived: “a free spirit, an Anarchist, owing no allegiance to rulers, heavenly or earthly.". She was buried near Emma Goldman, the Haymarket defendants, and other social activists at the Waldheim Cemetery (now Forest Home Cemetery), in Forest Park, a suburb west of Chicago. around 2,000 people attended her funeral.
She was also a prolific writer of poetry of much depth.Throughout her life though she was plagued by illness and depression, attempting suicide on at least two occasions and surviving an assassination attempt on December 19, 1902. Her assailant, Herman Helcher, was a former pupil who had earlier been rendered insane by a fever, and whom she immediately forgave. She wrote, "It would be an outrage against civilization if he were sent to jail for an act which was the product of a diseased brain". The attack left her with chronic ear pain and a throat infection that often adversely affected her ability to speak or concentrate but still managed to get back on the lecture circuit 3 months later.
Voltairine de Cleyre died prematurely at the age of 45 on June 20, 1912, at St. Mary of Nazareth Hospital in Chicago, Illinois from septic meningitis. remaining as she had lived: “a free spirit, an Anarchist, owing no allegiance to rulers, heavenly or earthly.". She was buried near Emma Goldman, the Haymarket defendants, and other social activists at the Waldheim Cemetery (now Forest Home Cemetery), in Forest Park, a suburb west of Chicago. around 2,000 people attended her funeral.
Despite being one of the most gifted and versatile writers in the American anarchist movement, Voltairine de Cleyre sadly is little known today,.
This is partly due to the difficulty of accessing primary source materials (as documentation is divided among archives in various libraries on two continents), but also to her radical positions, which went side by side with what has been defined as a “sectarian temperament” and an uncompromising, almost “fanatical code of behavior” (Avrich, 1978 11, 90).
The discrimination against women still prevailing even within the nineteenth-century anarchist movement, regardless of their contribution to the debate on the so called “Woman question,” may have been another factor.
Finally, the branding of anarchism as un-American and embedded in violence has made de Cleyre’s work and literary talent hard to appreciate. Her writing moves across languages and genres with rare agility, making it arduous for scholars from either side of the Atlantic to keep track of her endeavors.
However Voltairine de Cleyre remains an important figure in history whose ideas are of interest today, particularly as we still suffer from the patriarchy, capitalism and statism she opposed. Her freethought poetry and her passionate, uncompromising essays are still timely, and provocative to this day.
The Voltairine de Cleyre Reader
http://libcom.org/library/voltairine-de-cleyre-reader
Why I am an Anarchist - Voltaraine de Clere
Among the leaves and the rolls of moonlight,
The moon, which weaves lace on the road-white
Among the winds, and among the flowers,
Our blithe feet wander --life is ours!
Life is ours, and life is loving;
All our powers are locked in loving;
Hearts, and eyeys, and lips are moving
With the ecstasy of loving.
Ah! the roses! they are blooming;
And the June air, throbbing, tuning,
Sings of Love's eternal summer--
Chants of Joy, life's only Comer;
And we clsp our hands together,
Singing in the war, sweet weather;
Kissing, thrilling with caressing,
All the sweet from Love's rose pressing.
Ah, so easy!--Earth is Heaven,--
Darkness, shadows, do not live;
Like the rose our hearts are given,
Like the rose whos blom is given,
To the sun-gold, and the heaven.
Not because it wills or wishes,
But because 'tis life to give.
I am - Voltaraine de Cleyre
I am! The ages on the ages roll:
And what I am, I was, and I shall be:
by slow growth filling higher Destiny,
And Widening, ever, to the widening Goal.
I am the Stone that slept; down deep in me
That old, old sleep has left its centurine trace;
I am the plant that dreamed; and lo! still see
That dream-life dwelling on the Human Face.
I slept, I dreamed, I wakened: I am Man!
The hut grows Palaces; the depths breed light;
Still on! Forms pass; but Form yields kinglier
Might!
The singer, dying where his song began,
In Me yet lives; and yet again shall he
Unseal the lips of greater songs To Be;
For mine the thousand tongues of Immortality.
The Toast to Despair - Voltaraine de Cleyre
We have cried, – and the Gods are silent; We have trusted, – and been betrayed; We have loved, – and the fruit was ashes; We have given, – the gift was weighed. We know that the heavens are empty, That friendship and love are names; That truth is an ashen cinder, The end of life’s burnt-out flames. Vainly and long we have waited, Through the night of the human roar, For a single song on the harp of Hope, Or a ray from a day-lit shore. Songs aye come floating, marvelous sweet, And bow-dyed flashes gleam; But the sweets are Lies, and the weary feet Run after a marsh-light beam. In the hour of our need the song departs, And the sea-moans of sorrow swell; The siren mocks with a gurgling laugh That is drowned in teh deep death-knell. The light we chased with our stumbling feet As the goal of happier years, Swings high and low and vanishes, – The bow-dyes were of our tears. God is a lie, and Faith is a lie, And a tenfold lie is Love; Life is a problem without a why, And never a thing to prove. It adds, and subtracts, and multiplies, And divides without aim or end; Its answers all false, though false-named true, – Wife, husband, lover, friend. We know it now, and we care no more; What matters life or death? We tiny insects emerge from earth, Suffer, and yield our breath. Like ants we crawl on our brief sand-hill, Dreaming of ‘mighty things’, – Lo, they crunch, like shells in the ocean’s wrath, In the rush of Time’s awful wings. The sun smiles gold, and the plants white, And a billion stars smile, still; Yet fierce as we, each wheels toward death, And cannot stay his will. The build, ye fools, your might things, That Time shall set at naught; Grow warm with the song the sweet Lie sings, And the false bow your tears have wrought. For us, a truce to Gods, loves, and hopes, And a pledge to fire and wave; A swifter whirl to the dance of death, And a loud huzza for the Grave!
Written-In-Red (to Our Living Dead In Mexico's Struggle ) - Voltaraine de Cleyre
And what I am, I was, and I shall be:
by slow growth filling higher Destiny,
And Widening, ever, to the widening Goal.
I am the Stone that slept; down deep in me
That old, old sleep has left its centurine trace;
I am the plant that dreamed; and lo! still see
That dream-life dwelling on the Human Face.
I slept, I dreamed, I wakened: I am Man!
The hut grows Palaces; the depths breed light;
Still on! Forms pass; but Form yields kinglier
Might!
The singer, dying where his song began,
In Me yet lives; and yet again shall he
Unseal the lips of greater songs To Be;
For mine the thousand tongues of Immortality.
The Toast to Despair - Voltaraine de Cleyre
We have cried, – and the Gods are silent; We have trusted, – and been betrayed; We have loved, – and the fruit was ashes; We have given, – the gift was weighed. We know that the heavens are empty, That friendship and love are names; That truth is an ashen cinder, The end of life’s burnt-out flames. Vainly and long we have waited, Through the night of the human roar, For a single song on the harp of Hope, Or a ray from a day-lit shore. Songs aye come floating, marvelous sweet, And bow-dyed flashes gleam; But the sweets are Lies, and the weary feet Run after a marsh-light beam. In the hour of our need the song departs, And the sea-moans of sorrow swell; The siren mocks with a gurgling laugh That is drowned in teh deep death-knell. The light we chased with our stumbling feet As the goal of happier years, Swings high and low and vanishes, – The bow-dyes were of our tears. God is a lie, and Faith is a lie, And a tenfold lie is Love; Life is a problem without a why, And never a thing to prove. It adds, and subtracts, and multiplies, And divides without aim or end; Its answers all false, though false-named true, – Wife, husband, lover, friend. We know it now, and we care no more; What matters life or death? We tiny insects emerge from earth, Suffer, and yield our breath. Like ants we crawl on our brief sand-hill, Dreaming of ‘mighty things’, – Lo, they crunch, like shells in the ocean’s wrath, In the rush of Time’s awful wings. The sun smiles gold, and the plants white, And a billion stars smile, still; Yet fierce as we, each wheels toward death, And cannot stay his will. The build, ye fools, your might things, That Time shall set at naught; Grow warm with the song the sweet Lie sings, And the false bow your tears have wrought. For us, a truce to Gods, loves, and hopes, And a pledge to fire and wave; A swifter whirl to the dance of death, And a loud huzza for the Grave!
Written-In-Red (to Our Living Dead In Mexico's Struggle ) - Voltaraine de Cleyre
Written in red their protest stands,
For the gods of the World to see;
On the dooming wall their bodiless hands
have blazoned 'Upharsin,' and flaring brands
Illumine the message: 'Seize the lands!
Open the prisons and make men free!'
Flame out the living words of the dead
Written--in--red.
Gods of the World! Their mouths are dumb!
Your guns have spoken and they are dust.
But the shrouded Living, whose hearts were numb,
have felt the beat of a wakening drum
Within them sounding-the Dead men's tongue--
Calling: 'Smite off the ancient rust!'
Have beheld 'Resurrexit,' the word of the Dead,
Written--in--red.
Bear it aloft, O roaring, flame!
Skyward aloft, where all may see.
Slaves of the World! Our caose is the same;
One is the immemorial shame;
One is the struggle, and in One name--
Manhood--we battle to set men free.
'Uncurse us the Land!' burn the words of the
Dead,
Written--in--red.
Life or Death - Voltaraine de Cleyre
A Soul, half through the Gate, said unto Life:
'What dos thou offer me?' And Life replied:
'Sorrow, unceasing struggle, disappointment;
after these
Darkness and silence.' The Soul said unto Death:
'What dos thou offer me?' And Death replied:
'In the beginning what Life gives at last.'
Turning to Life: 'And if I live and struggle?'
'Others shall live and struggle after thee
Counting it easier where thou hast passed.'
'And by their struggles?' 'Easier place shall be
For others, still to rise to keener pain
Of conquering Agony!' 'and what have I
To do with all these others? Who are they?'
'Yourself!' 'And all who went before?' 'Yourself.'
'The darkness and the silence, too, have end?'
'They end in light and sound; peace ends in pain,
Death ends in Me, and thou must glide from
Self
To Self, as light to shade and shade to light again.
Choose!' The Soul, sighing, answered: 'I will live.'
For the gods of the World to see;
On the dooming wall their bodiless hands
have blazoned 'Upharsin,' and flaring brands
Illumine the message: 'Seize the lands!
Open the prisons and make men free!'
Flame out the living words of the dead
Written--in--red.
Gods of the World! Their mouths are dumb!
Your guns have spoken and they are dust.
But the shrouded Living, whose hearts were numb,
have felt the beat of a wakening drum
Within them sounding-the Dead men's tongue--
Calling: 'Smite off the ancient rust!'
Have beheld 'Resurrexit,' the word of the Dead,
Written--in--red.
Bear it aloft, O roaring, flame!
Skyward aloft, where all may see.
Slaves of the World! Our caose is the same;
One is the immemorial shame;
One is the struggle, and in One name--
Manhood--we battle to set men free.
'Uncurse us the Land!' burn the words of the
Dead,
Written--in--red.
Life or Death - Voltaraine de Cleyre
A Soul, half through the Gate, said unto Life:
'What dos thou offer me?' And Life replied:
'Sorrow, unceasing struggle, disappointment;
after these
Darkness and silence.' The Soul said unto Death:
'What dos thou offer me?' And Death replied:
'In the beginning what Life gives at last.'
Turning to Life: 'And if I live and struggle?'
'Others shall live and struggle after thee
Counting it easier where thou hast passed.'
'And by their struggles?' 'Easier place shall be
For others, still to rise to keener pain
Of conquering Agony!' 'and what have I
To do with all these others? Who are they?'
'Yourself!' 'And all who went before?' 'Yourself.'
'The darkness and the silence, too, have end?'
'They end in light and sound; peace ends in pain,
Death ends in Me, and thou must glide from
Self
To Self, as light to shade and shade to light again.
Choose!' The Soul, sighing, answered: 'I will live.'
Wednesday, 15 November 2017
DWP hang your heads in shame
For those unable to read images, it says:
‘I’m a doctor. This is a real conversation I had with the Job Centre:
“Hi, I don’t think Miss X is well enough to come to your appointment…”
“It’s a term of her benefits that she has to come.”
“I know, but I don’t think she’s well enough. Can you rearrange it?”
“So she came to your appointment?”
“Yes, but…”
“Then she can come to ours.”
“But she’s not well and I’m her doctor.”
“And she wants benefits and so she has to come here.”
“So you’re saying that she has to either jeopardise her health by coming to your meeting, or not receive any money.”
“If you’re trying to make me feel guilty you’re speaking to the wrong person.”‘
Just to add perspective to this dialogue, it might be useful to remember that a woman was afraid to leave a DWP meeting while she was having a heart attack because she thought she would be sanctioned off-benefit.
This sad state of affairs currently happening in a supposed civilised country, and completely legal too, we need a change in government as soon as possible to put and end this shameful policy. It is simply outrageous that some people are actually punished simply for being ill.
Image Black triangle campign
Labels:
# DWP # We are all Daniel Blake
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