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Capitalism should not be condemned, since we haven't had capitalism.

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Here Begynneth A Lyttell Treatyse Cleped La Conusaunce Damours

Forth gone the virgyns euerychone
Replet with ioye/and eke felicite
To gether floures. And some vnto one
Haue more fantasy/whan they it se
Than to all that in the medowes be
Another shall incontrary wyse
Gether other after theyr deuyse.


So done clerkes/of great grauite
Chose maters/wheron they lyst to wryte
But I that am of small capacite
Toke on me this treatyse to endyte
Tauoyde ydelnesse/more than for delyte
And most parte therof/tolde was to me
As here after/ye may rede and se.


Thus endeth the prologue.

The thyrde idus/in the moneth of July
Phebus his beames/lustryng euery way
Gladdynge the hartes/of all our Hemyspery
And mouynge many/vnto sporte and playe
So dyd it me/the treuthe for to saye
To walke forth/I had great inclination
Per chaunce some where/to fynde recreation


And as I walked/ever I dyd beholde
Goodly yonge people/that them encouraged
In suche maner wyse/as though they wolde
Ryght gladly have songe or daunsed
Or els some other gorgious thynge deuysed
Whose demeanynge/made me ryght ioyous
For to beholde/theyr dedes amorous.


To wryte all thynges of plesure/that I se
In euery place/where I passed by
In all a day recunted it can nat be
Who coude discryue the fresshe beauty
Of dames and pusels/attyred gorgiously
So swete of loke/so amiable of face
Smilyng doulcely/on suche as stande in grace


Certaynly theyr boute/and curtesy
Ofte moueth me/for to do my payne
Some thynge to wryte/them to magnifye

[...] Read more

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Capitalism

Theres nothing wrong with capitalism
Theres nothing wrong with free enterprise
Dont try to make me feel guilty
Im so tired of hearing you cry
Theres nothing wrong with making some profit
If you ask me Ill say its just fine
Theres nothing wrong with wanting to live nice
Im so tired of hearing you whine
About the revolution
Bringin down the rich
When was the last time you dug a ditch, baby!
If it aint one thing
Then its the other
Any cause that crosses your path
Your heart bleeds for anyones brother
Ive got to tell you youre a pain in the ass
You criticize with plenty of vigor
You rationalize everything that you do
With catchy phrases and heavy quotations
And everybody is crazy but you
Youre just a middle class, socialist brat
From a suburban family and you never really had to work
And you tell me that weve got to get back
To the struggling masses (whoever they are)
You talk, talk, talk about suffering and pain
Your mouth is bigger than your entire brain
What the hell do you know about suffering and pain . . .
(repeat first verse)
(repeat chorus)
Theres nothing wrong with capitalism
Theres nothing wrong with capitalism
Theres nothing wrong with capitalism
Theres nothing wrong with capitalism

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The Child Of The Islands - Summer

I.

FOR Summer followeth with its store of joy;
That, too, can bring thee only new delight;
Its sultry hours can work thee no annoy,
Veiled from thy head shall be its glowing might.
Sweet fruits shall tempt thy thirsty appetite;
Thy languid limbs on cushioned down shall sink;
Or rest on fern-grown tufts, by streamlets bright,
Where the large-throated deer come down to drink,
And cluster gently round the cool refreshing brink.
II.

There, as the flakèd light, with changeful ray
(From where the unseen glory hotly glows)
Through the green branches maketh pleasant way,
And on the turf a chequered radiance throws,
Thou'lt lean, and watch those kingly-antlered brows--
The lustrous beauty of their glances shy,
As following still the pace their leader goes,
(Who seems afraid to halt--ashamed to fly,)
Rapid, yet stately too, the lovely herd troop by.
III.

This is the time of shadow and of flowers,
When roads gleam white for many a winding mile;
When gentle breezes fan the lazy hours,
And balmy rest o'erpays the time of toil;
When purple hues and shifting beams beguile
The tedious sameness of the heath-grown moor;
When the old grandsire sees with placid smile
The sunburnt children frolic round his door,
And trellised roses deck the cottage of the poor.
IV.

The time of pleasant evenings! when the moon
Riseth companioned by a single star,
And rivals e'en the brilliant summer noon
In the clear radiance which she pours afar;
No stormy winds her hour of peace to mar,
Or stir the fleecy clouds which melt away
Beneath the wheels of her illumined car;
While many a river trembles in her ray,
And silver gleam the sands round many an ocean bay!
V.

Oh, then the heart lies hushed, afraid to beat,
In the deep absence of all other sound;
And home is sought with loth and lingering feet,
As though that shining tract of fairy ground,

[...] Read more

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The Ballad of Jock Dean.

I watched the daylight trickle o'er
the hills behind oor hoose
A sight I'd often seen before
but never through a noose

These shoddy thrown up gallows
where I waited for the crow.
Forget the debt my pal owes,
he'll no help me, this I know.

(Chorus.)
Why have you betrayed yer ain
and left me without hope?
Condemned by my ain twisted wean
tay dance upon the Sheriff's rope.


I swore I would avenge the loss
of all the Laird had stole
The sheriff couldnay gi a toss,
my neck-stretch was his goal.

"A few last words, afore ye go? "
The sarky basturt's shout.
I said nay mer, fur as ye know
he'd had ma tongue ripped out.

(Chorus.)
Why have you betrayed yer ain
and left me without hope?
Condemned by my ain twisted wean
tay dance upon the Sheriff's rope.


The weighted sack tied tay ma feet
drapped sharp before I fell
Ma four weans aw began tay greet
at this, their Da's death knell.


The bag should help tay snap the neck
an quell ma final song
bit no fur me, an instant brek,
the rope was joost too long.

(Chorus.)
Why have you betrayed yer ain
and left me without hope?
Condemned by my ain twisted wean
tay dance upon the Sheriff's rope.

[...] Read more

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In Heaven Capitalism Doesn't Exist

America, the capitalist's prodigy,
Their debts multiplying every day,
It proves that capitalism doesn't work,
Eventually someone has to pay.

Four billion pounds debt every 24 hours,
To reduce it they're not even trying,
Politicians not caring leaves a taste that sours,
Fact is we know they're all lying.

The Eurozone is in crisis now,
Great Britain is in a mess,
While our politicians don't lose out,
We're left with all the stress.

Britain now owes over a Trillion pounds,
Despite all the governments cuts,
The Grim Reaper is now doing his rounds,
We're doomed, no ifs or buts.

What happened to being accountable?
Our politicians just never learn,
They tell us, don't spend what you don't have,
Live only on what you earn.

They then go and do the opposite,
How stupid can these bastards get,
While they're living the life of Riley,
We're left to pay their debt.

The workers are forced to bail them out,
But these scumbags have got it cracked,
While we all lose our jobs and homes,
None of them are sacked.

They ruin their countries whilst in power,
Which proves they haven't got a clue,
They then just up and walk away,
While we're left to see it through.

They then come out with their bullshit books,
The contents would make you wince,
They all claim it wasn't their fault,
But we know they're talking mince.

Why do we reward them for failure,
It's in prison they should be confined,
The ordinary guy would be sacked on the spot,
But these deadbeats are wined and dined.

[...] Read more

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You Didn't Understand

Vacuous Julian had the following to say
about our religious beliefs: 'I read, I understood,
I condemned'. He thought we'd be devastated
by that 'condemned', the silly ass.
Witticisms like that don't get by with us Christians.
Our quick reply: 'You read but didn't understand;
had you understood, you wouldn't have condemned.'

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Were I he or she…

I condemned his assaulting his wife.
I condemned her beating her children.
I condemned his infidelity.
Could I be different if I were in their shoes?
26.02.2008

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When The Peace Negotiations Have Failed

The fight for our freedom.
Its not for me, but for you.
Chained to a steel chair, condemned in silence.
Accusations of inciting of violence.
What do we do when the peace negotiations have failed?
What do we do when your brother is wearing a uniform and pointing a gun at you?

Do we love all of them all the more?
Forced into a war.
Choices of poverty by a single declaration.
We are the people and we will not be silent.
Even if it means dieing.

We stand in a line holding hands stopping all traffic upon the city streets.
A nuisance to the wealthy.
But you will hear me.
I do not stand alone.
Their is 99 to everyone of you.

The fight for our freedom.
Its not for me, but for you.
Chained to a steel chair, condemned in silence.
Accusations of inciting of violence.
What do we do when the peace negotiation failed?
What do we do when your brother is wearing a uniform and pointing a gun at you?

Do we love all of them all the more?
Forced into a war.
Choices of poverty by a single declaration.
We are the people and we will not be silent.
Even if it means dieing.

What is it this movement is if not trying.
The old ladies, and men you see are out with their canes and wheel chairs.
They support us in this fight against oppression.
Why don't you?
Why is it that so many walk away in the face of adversity.
You say, but they pay our wages.
But with out you they would be no wages to be made.
A profit decayed.

The fight for our freedom.
Its not for me, but for you.
Chained to a steel chair, condemned in silence.
Accusations of inciting of violence.
What do we do when the peace negotiation failed?
What do we do when your brother is wearing a uniform and pointing a gun at you?

Do we love all of them all the more?
Forced into a war.

[...] Read more

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Creator And Savior

God not only is our Creator, He, in Christ, is a wonderful Savior,
The Creator of all we can see, came down to earth from Eternity.
Christ came to die upon a cross, to be the Savior of all the lost,
And with God’s price for sin paid, in a grave, His body was laid.

The Creator became a sacrifice, paying for us the ultimate price,
Then He rose in victory over sin, creating for all New Life in Him.
For God’s Own Chosen Lamb, Jesus Christ, is The Great “I Am”.
Existent prior to creating man, then chosen to finish God’s plan.

God’s Plan to redeem creation, all through our Lord’s Salvation,
A salvation that is offered to none, apart from belief in His Son,
God’s Only Son, Jesus Christ, sent to the earth to offer His life,
As God’s ransom, sent for all, to redeem man from Adam’s fall.

The Lord and Creator of men, was sent to save the condemned,
Condemned from the sin of one, and saved by God’s Own Son.
Reconciled to God up above, by the action of our Savior’s love,
All sinners offered life eternally, from that blood spilt at Calvary.

The Creator, both pure and just, condemned all to return to dust,
Separated from God Eternally, apart, from the Blood of Calvary,
Blood spilled from Christ’s side, as on the cross, for all He died,
As He faced death with its strife, to gain for sinners, Eternal Life.

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Charles Baudelaire

Le Léthé (Lethe)

Viens sur mon coeur, âme cruelle et sourde,
Tigre adoré, monstre aux airs indolents;
Je veux longtemps plonger mes doigts tremblants
Dans l'épaisseur de ta crinière lourde;

Dans tes jupons remplis de ton parfum
Ensevelir ma tête endolorie,
Et respirer, comme une fleur flétrie,
Le doux relent de mon amour défunt.

Je veux dormir! dormir plutôt que vivre!
Dans un sommeil aussi doux que la mort,
J'étalerai mes baisers sans remords
Sur ton beau corps poli comme le cuivre.

Pour engloutir mes sanglots apaisés
Rien ne me vaut l'abîme de ta couche;
L'oubli puissant habite sur ta bouche,
Et le Léthé coule dans tes baisers.

À mon destin, désormais mon délice,
J'obéirai comme un prédestiné;
Martyr docile, innocent condamné,
Dont la ferveur attise le supplice,

Je sucerai, pour noyer ma rancoeur,
Le népenthès et la bonne ciguë
Aux bouts charmants de cette gorge aiguë
Qui n'a jamais emprisonné de coeur.

Lethe

Come, lie upon my breast, cruel, insensitive soul,
Adored tigress, monster with the indolent air;
I want to plunge trembling fingers for a long time
In the thickness of your heavy mane,

To bury my head, full of pain
In your skirts redolent of your perfume,
To inhale, as from a withered flower,
The moldy sweetness of my defunct love.

I wish to sleep! to sleep rather than live!
In a slumber doubtful as death,
I shall remorselessly cover with my kisses
Your lovely body polished like copper.

To bury my subdued sobbing
Nothing equals the abyss of your bed,
Potent oblivion dwells upon your lips

[...] Read more

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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!

O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]

POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR

POEMS

1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song

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To Live In A Poor Place Or Suburb

To live in a poor Place or Suburb as bad as a punishable crime
That's how it is and always will be 'tis something that won't change in time
On the road that leads from the poor Suburb it is a long hike to success
Condemned by the street that you live on and condemned by your postal address
Condemned by the judgements of the judgemental to spend their lives in Earthly Hell
Few very few from the poor Suburb in life ever seem to do well
The judgemental arrogant talk of life choices but never of birth circumstance
The homeless youth of Poverty Street of success have such a slim chance
For them life is such a hard battle a tough steep climb all of the way
Where many are doomed for to die young and few live to be old and gray
Where so many do become outlaws and spend most of their lives in jail
They follow in parental footsteps from birth they are doomed for to fail
Those born and raised in the poor Place or Suburb have little hope of happiness
Their life journey is such a tough road with so little chance of success.

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Charles Baudelaire

L'Héautontimorouménos (The Man Who Tortures Himself)

L'Héautontimorouménos
Je te frapperai sans colère
Et sans haine, comme un boucher,
Comme Moïse le rocher
Et je ferai de ta paupière,

Pour abreuver mon Saharah
Jaillir les eaux de la souffrance.
Mon désir gonflé d'espérance
Sur tes pleurs salés nagera

Comme un vaisseau qui prend le large,
Et dans mon coeur qu'ils soûleront
Tes chers sanglots retentiront
Comme un tambour qui bat la charge!
Ne suis-je pas un faux accord
Dans la divine symphonie,
Grâce à la vorace Ironie
Qui me secoue et qui me mord
Elle est dans ma voix, la criarde!
C'est tout mon sang ce poison noir!
Je suis le sinistre miroir
Où la mégère se regarde.

Je suis la plaie et le couteau!
Je suis le soufflet et la joue!
Je suis les membres et la roue,
Et la victime et le bourreau!

Je suis de mon coeur le vampire,
— Un de ces grands abandonnés
Au rire éternel condamnés
Et qui ne peuvent plus sourire!

The Man Who Tortures Himself

I shall strike you without anger
And without hate, like a butcher,
As Moses struck the rock!
And from your eyelids I shall make

The waters of suffering gush forth
To inundate my Sahara.
My desire swollen with hope
Will float upon your salty tears

Like a vessel which puts to sea,
And in my heart that they'll make drunk
Your beloved sobs will resound
Like a drum beating the charge!

[...] Read more

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We have two evils to fight, capitalism and racism. We must destroy both racism and capitalism.

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A system of capitalism presumes sound money, not fiat money manipulated by a central bank. Capitalism cherishes voluntary contracts and interest rates that are determined by savings, not credit creation by a central bank.

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Fran Lebowitz

In the Soviet Union, capitalism triumphed over communism. In this country, capitalism triumphed over democracy.

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Hugo Chavez

I have said it already, I am convinced that the way to build a new and better world is not capitalism. Capitalism leads us straight to hell.

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I don't think that left to its own devices, capitalism moves along smoothly and everyone gets treated fairly in the process. Capitalism is like a child: if you want the child to grow up free and productive, somebody's got to look over the shoulder of that child.

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What breaks capitalism, all that will ever break capitalism, is capitalists. The faster they run the more strain on their heart.

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The kind of capitalism I hate most is crony capitalism, the friends who decide. These are things which should be killed in Russia.

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