It is essential that there should be organization of labor. This is an era of organization. Capital organizes and therefore labor must organize.
quote by Theodore Roosevelt
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Related quotes
Sexuality
Stand up everybody, this is your life
Let me take u to another world, let me take u tonight
U dont need no money, u dont need no clothes
The second coming, anything goes
Sexuality is all ull ever need
Sexuality -- let your body be free
Cmon everybody, yeah, this is your life
Im talking about a revolution we gotta organize
We dont need no segregation, we dont need no race
New age revelation, I think we got a case
Im ok as long as u are here with me
Sexuality is all we ever need
Reproduction of a new breed -- leaders, stand up, organize
Reproduction of a new breed -- leaders, stand up, organize
Reproduction of a new breed -- leaders, stand up, organize
Everybody...
Reproduction of a new breed -- leaders, stand up, organize
One time say...
Reproduction of a new breed -- leaders, stand up, organize
Reproduction of a new breed -- leaders, stand up, organize
We live in a world overrun by tourists
Tourists -- 89 flowers on their back...inventors of the accu-jack
They look at life through a pocket camera... what? no flash again?
Theyre all a bunch of double drags who teach their kids that love is bad
Half of the staff of their brain is on vacation
Mama, are u listening?
We need a new breed -- leaders, stand up, organize
Dont let your children watch television until they know how to read
Or else all theyll know how to do is cuss, fight and breed
No child is bad from the beginning... they only imitate their atmosphere
If theyre in the company of tourists, alcohol and us history
Whats to be expected is 3 minus 3... absolutely nothing
Stand up, organize
We need a new breed...leaders, stand up, organize
I wanna be in the new breed, stand up, organize
Sexuality is all Ill ever need
Sexuality, Im gonna let my body be free
Sexuality is all Ill ever need
Sexuality, Im gonna let my body be free
Sexuality
song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Bambino Io, Bambino Tu (Legenda)
Lui stava l seduto nel giardino,
ed era quasi nudo e piccolino.
Da dove era venuto non lo so,
era normale che lui fosse l.
Aveva un occhio nero e un occhio blu,
bambino io, bambino tu.
Sembrava primavera ed era inverno,
e c'erano dei fiori tutto intorno.
Doveva essere buio e c'era luce,
e tutto quello che mi piace.
Aveva un occhio nero e un occhio blu,
bambino io, bambino tu.
Mi sono seduto in terra l vicino,
ed era lui mio padre e lui mio figlio.
Ho parlato di cose che non so,
di cose che non ho saputo mai.
Aveva un occhio nero e un occhio blu,
bambino io, bambino tu.
E ninna oh e ninna ah.
E ninna oh e ninna ah.
Poi mi venuto sonno l in giardino,
cantava e la sua voce era sottile.
Mi sono svegliato e lui non c'era pi,
c'era un fiore di carta al posto suo.
Io avevo un occhio nero e un occhio blu,
bambino io, bambino tu.
Mi sono svegliato e lui non c'era pi,
io avevo un occhio nero e un occhio blu,
bambino io, bambino tu.
Bambino io, bambino tu.
E ninna oh e ninna ah.
E ninna oh e ninna ah.
E ninna oh e ninna ah.
E ninna oh e ninna ah.
E ninna oh e ninna ah.
E ninna oh e ninna ah.
E ninna oh e ninna ah.
E ninna oh e ninna ah.
E ninna oh e ninna ah.
E ninna oh e ninna ah.
E ninna oh e ninna ah.
E ninna oh e ninna ah...
E ninna oh e ninna ah.
E ninna oh e ninna ah.
E ninna oh e ninna ah.
E ninna oh e ninna ah.
song performed by Zucchero
Added by Lucian Velea
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Step Outside
Well the walls to wet to sit on
And theres a curtain right over my head
Stamp my feet waiting for a bus
But decide to walk instead
And the american saxophoner follows me
All the way from the tele to the public house
My fingers are always in my ears
But the reeds always in their mouth
And if youve ever crossed your heart and hoped to die
The voices in your head saying you must cry
Then theres more to you than meets the eye
But if you go about your business with capital b
Theyre sure to cut you up with a capital c
And then you will be dead with a capital d
Just step outside
Well we could stop for a conversasion
If we could think of anything to say
But you know youve got nothing to talk about
When nothing happened yesterday
And if I ever commited a murder
I think Id go about it this way
Never mine a rope or a dagger and a cloak
I could spend a week on this estate
And if youve ever crossed your heart and hoped to die
The voices in your head saying you must cry
Then theres more to you than meets the eye
But if you go about your business with capital b
Theyre sure to cut you up with a capital c
And then you will be dead with a capital a
Just step outside
What are you doing tomorrow
And the day after and the day after that
Got some money I can borrow?
Ive become the person Ive admired
And if youve ever crossed your heart and hoped to die
The voices in your head saying you must cry
Then theres more to you than meets the eye
But if you go about your business with capital b
Theyre sure to cut you up with a capital c
And then you will be dead with a capital b
song performed by Housemartins
Added by Lucian Velea
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Con Voi
Mia cara, voglio farvi sapere
Qualcosa che è molto importante per me,
E qualcosa che può essere
Molto importante per lei,
Se apprezzi il mio amore solo
Come valore di tuo.
Mia cara, sono stato con voi per
Come posso ricordare.
Mi ricordo quando eravamo bambini,
E i nostri genitori erano vicini,
E siamo stati vicini, come pure,
Naturalmente
E i nostri genitori sarebbero pianificare 'gioco-date'
Come chiamati li allora e ancora adesso,
E c'era molto di più ad esso.
Si, tua sorella e tuo fratello sarebbe venuto sopra,
E potrebbe appendere fuori con mio fratello, mia sorella e me.
Ricordo che pensavo che le ragazze erano lorde,
E voi, vorrei evitare
E hai pensato che avevo una malattia,
Così sarebbe evitare me, troppo.
Ma, dopo un paio di settimane,
Siamo diventati amici,
[...] Read more
poem by James Roberts
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Capital of Change
Beyond- capital capital, capital of change
realizing energy through social capital
energizing capital through intellectual and emotional capital
capitalizing energy through death in post-conceptual realities
beyond trust
beyond relationship
beyond law of Karma
post-framed mind-set in the ecological mind of spiritual freedom
capital of change
the end of ideology
you see/you the sea
poem by Nyein Way
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Some Got a Battle On Their Maps
I use to hate to
Re-organize
My life
For someone...
Who did not know who to appreciate.
I use to hate to
Re-organize
My life
For someone...
Who did not know who to appreciate.
I use to hate to
Re-organize
My life
For someone...
Who did not know who to appreciate.
People are like that,
They do not appreciate.
Some can be so ruthless,
They do not appreciate.
People are like that.
Sad is the fact.
People are like that.
Some got a battle on their maps.
People are like that!
Some got a battle on their maps.
People are like that!
Sad is the fact.
People are like that!
Some got a battle on their maps.
People are like that!
Some got a battle on their maps.
People are like that!
Some got a battle on their maps.
People are like that!
Some got a battle on their maps.
I use to hate to
Re-organize
My life
For someone...
Who did not know who to appreciate.
People are like that,
They do not appreciate.
Some can be so ruthless,
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ode to the Wobblies
I am decent college student
Who does like to roam
To travel many a mile around
And to go and go
I like to roam everywhere I can
Without rime or reason
I will go ever I can go and roam
In the summer season
To roam is to go and go some more
And to leave thy home behind
To go out here and everywhere
To ride to ride to ride
I will I say go near and far
To every mine and mill
To help to roam and a ways know
That the union lives still
That I will help every union man
Striking on the line
That they may go and organize
out with their picket sign
Telling the boss that they want
To get their fare share
To get every thing that they need
Here there everywhere
Oh this I will say to you
That I will be there
When worker start to organize and strike
It’s I who will share
in the triumph and in the fight
in the beatings that come
I will stand among us you all
Standup now endure
For working men across this land
I will say once again
That where men organize that ‘s were we win
At ever river bend
That we may win the good fight
All across this land
That we may stand and fight
All across the dessert sand
[...] Read more
poem by Timothy Young
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To Be No. 1
Music : peter wolf, matthias jabs
Lyrics: klaus meine
Give me a job
The one i havn't got
Don't write me off at anytime
Don't ever leave me unsatisfied
I don't wanna come in a second
I just wanna come
Don't wanna be the last in line
Don't wanna be just left behind
And in the evening when i come home
It is time to throw my dog a bone
That's when i wear my shirt that says
In capital letters in capital letters
Isn't it fun fun fun to be number one
(he's got no job, got no blow got no monica to go to)
Isn't it fun fun fun to be number one
(he's a superstar, wunderbar, out of touch too much)
Don't tell me i'm small
An inch too short
I might not be your size but i'm sure great
And definitely underpaid
So give me a job
The one i haven't got
Don't tell me i'm too poor to join the club
To hang out with the big shots
And in the evening when i come home
It is time to give my dog a bone
That's when i wear my shirt that says
In capital letters in capital letters
Isn't it fun fun fun to be number one
(he's got no job, got no blow, got no monica to go to)
Isn't it fun fun fun to be number one
(he's a v.i.p. wannabe, all he ever wants is)
Isn't it fun fun fun to be number one
Isn't it fun fun fun yeah to be number one
(he's a v.i.p. wannabe all he ever wants is)
To be number one
And in the evening when i come home
It is time to throw my dog a bone
That's when i wear my shirt that says
In capital letters in capital letters
Isn't it fun fun fun to be number one
(he's got no job, got no blow got no monica to go to)
Isn't it fun fun fun yeah to be number one
(he's a superstar, wunderbar, out of touch too much)
Isn't it fun fun fun to be number one
Isn't it fun fun fun fun to be number one
To be number one
(fun, fun, fun)
[...] Read more
song performed by Scorpions
Added by Lucian Velea
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Tiempo, tiempo
Mediodía estancado entre relentes.
Bomba aburrida del cuartel achica
tiempo tiempo tiempo tiempo.
Era Era.
Gallos cancionan escarbando en vano.
Boca del claro día que conjuga
era era era era.
Mañana Mañana.
El reposo caliente aun de ser.
Piensa el presente guárdame para
mañana mañana mañana mañana.
Nombre Nombre.
¿Qué se llama cuanto heriza nos?
Se llama Lomismo que padece
nombre nombre nombre nombre.
poem by Cesar Vallejo
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The Lay Of The Bell
Fast, in its prison-walls of earth,
Awaits the mould of baked clay.
Up, comrades, up, and aid the birth
The bell that shall be born to-day!
Who would honor obtain,
With the sweat and the pain,
The praise that man gives to the master must buy.--
But the blessing withal must descend from on high!
And well an earnest word beseems
The work the earnest hand prepares;
Its load more light the labor deems,
When sweet discourse the labor shares.
So let us ponder--nor in vain--
What strength can work when labor wills;
For who would not the fool disdain
Who ne'er designs what he fulfils?
And well it stamps our human race,
And hence the gift to understand,
That man within the heart should trace
Whate'er he fashions with the hand.
From the fir the fagot take,
Keep it, heap it hard and dry,
That the gathered flame may break
Through the furnace, wroth and high.
When the copper within
Seeths and simmers--the tin,
Pour quick, that the fluid that feeds the bell
May flow in the right course glib and well.
Deep hid within this nether cell,
What force with fire is moulding thus,
In yonder airy tower shall dwell,
And witness wide and far of us!
It shall, in later days, unfailing,
Rouse many an ear to rapt emotion;
Its solemn voice with sorrow wailing,
Or choral chiming to devotion.
Whatever fate to man may bring,
Whatever weal or woe befall,
That metal tongue shall backward ring,
The warning moral drawn from all.
See the silvery bubbles spring!
Good! the mass is melting now!
Let the salts we duly bring
Purge the flood, and speed the flow.
From the dross and the scum,
Pure, the fusion must come;
[...] Read more
poem by Friedrich Schiller
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Labor is prior to, and independent of, capital. Capital is only the fruit of labor, and could never have existed if labor had not first existed. Labor is the superior of capital, and deserves much the higher consideration.
quote by Abraham Lincoln
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Dirge of the Morning After
VOICE OF THE PEOPLE (wailing dismally):
'Who can deliver us, Lord of our destiny!
Out of the depths comes our passionate cry,
Wrung from the soul of us. Aid for the whole of us!
Tell us, we pray, that our succor is nigh.
'Where is the super-man? Where the deliverer?
Where is the Captain to win us relief
Surcease from sorrowing, respite from borrowing?
Oh, for a philtre to deaden our grief!'
ANXIOUS VOICE FROM RIGHT WING:
'Patience, 0 populace! Wait for a little while!
Labor shall succor you - cleave to your Jim!
James and the rest of them, sure, are the best of them
Jimmy, the agable, trust ye to him!
'Lo, from the Chosen lures he the capital.
Bright golden, capital! Glorious loans!
Millions and mill-i-ons! Soon 'twill be bill-i-ons!
Patience awhile till he floats 'em.' (Loud groans.)
VOICE OF THE PEOPLE (irritably):
'Jim? Oh, be d-d to him. Doors are all slammed to him
Cohen's and Isaac's and old Ikey Mo's.
We would live decently! Up the spout recently
He has shoved everything barring our clothes.
(Again dolefully)
'Who can deliver us? Is there no saviour?
Is there no Chief with a Will and a Plan?
Not in a city-full? Oh, it is pitiful!
The hour it is striking - but where is the man?'
VOICE FROM LEFT WING (eagerly)
'Cheer up, my countrymen! Here is your Gregory!
Long he!s been shut from the councils of State.
He'll banish care for you; he'll do and dare for you.
Wade is the captain to fashion your fate.
'Long was he languishing, sunk in obscurity;
Now his wise counsel the populace seeks.
He is the man for you; he'll plot and plan for you.
[...] Read more
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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At The Bar-Code Ranch
A stellar job in the bullpen
C.B.S. Baseball
I lie in a converted garage, sun coming up
and the chuck-chuck of unfamiliar birds
from Lake Mizell.
The lamp grows ineffectual
under a skylight; the great world
washes in, humid, composed of small numbered parts.
Sometime after nine, the classical music station stops
for the landing of a space shuttle
a sonic boom
shakes the bungalow
and Vladomir Horowitz
is abruptly terminated.
Yesterday, at New Smyrna, north of Canaveral:
knotted shoreline
looking out from a timbered interior
on the Atlantic;
driving inland on Local 40,
a two-lane, the Beach Boys on air,
to Winter Park, inches above the water table.
Today, flying north, from Florida’s eighty degrees
to Washington’s forty-something
a river far below
in South Carolina.
Salt-pork and black-eyed beans
“soul food” – and cheap – in D.C’s low
where U.S. presidents
fall like leaves . . .
Consume and Die!
Wednesday
under the pines
looking out over the waters of Potomac
a torn Bush-Quayle poster in the grass
the morning after the election,
and down on Canal St
a bag of crushed Busch beer cans
reminds me that poetry exists.
Up at 3040 R St N.W.
[...] Read more
poem by Laurence James Duggan
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Massacre in Nanjing
On a clear winter day you can see from Tokyo
The snow-capped volcanic cone of Mount Fuji.
Towering to a height of 3,776 meters on Honshu Island,
About 100 kilometers south-west from the capital,
The majestic mountain is a staunch symbol
Of the Land of the Rising Sun.
During the Sino-Japanese War of 1937-1945,
Hirohito's armies invaded China, carrying along
A fascist banner of samurai honor and pride.
The Japanese Imperial troops
Advanced with brutal force,
Committing dreadful atrocities
Against prisoners and civilians.
They reinterpreted bushido virtues and believed
That their war crimes elevated the splendor and glory
Of Mount Fuji to new heights.
Articles published in November and December 1937
In the Tokyo Nichi Nichi Shimbun reported the exploits
Of Japanese Imperial Army officers Toshiaki Mukai and
Tsuyoshi Noda, who on the road to Nanjing competed,
For being the first to behead 100 Chinese with a sword.
Okumiya Masatake, a Japanese officer,
Was a witness to the atrocities.
He was a principled aviator in the Imperial Navy,
Serving in Jiangsu.
He was shocked by the carnage he saw in China.
On December 12,1937,
He participated outside Nanjing
In the bombing and sinking
Of the American Gunboat USS Panay
In the Yangtze River.
A few days after the sinking of the Panay,
Okumiya rode a chauffeur-driven car,
Searching for the bodies of downed Japanese pilots.
It was then that he had witnessed
His Majesty's Imperial Troops
Perpetrating gruesome Massacres.
In the streets of Nanjing, Japanese soldiers
Were slaughtering indiscriminately
Chinese men and women, young and old.
On December 25 and 27 of 1937,
Okumiya photographed in the capital
Piles of innumerable bodies of Chinese people,
Lying unburied along the Yangtze River
[...] Read more
poem by Paul Hartal
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Part 2 of Trout Fishing in America
ANOTHER METHOD
OF MAKING WALNUT CATSUP
And this is a very small cookbook for Trout Fishing in America
as if Trout Fishing in America were a rich gourmet and
Trout Fishing in America had Maria Callas for a girlfriend
and they ate together on a marble table with beautiful candles.
Compote of Apples
Take a dozen of golden pippins, pare them
nicely and take the core out with a small
penknife; put them into some water, and
let them be well scalded; then take a little
of the water with some sugar, and a few
apples which may be sliced into it, and
let the whole boil till it comes to a syrup;
then pour it over your pippins, and garnish
them with dried cherries and lemon-peel
cut fine. You must take care that your
pippins are not split.
And Maria Callas sang to Trout Fishing in America as
[...] Read more
poem by Richard Brautigan
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La Favola Antica
C'era una volta una favola antica
quasi da tutti ormai dimenticata
che continuava a volare nell'aria
aspettando colui
che l'avrebbe di nuovo narrata
era una favola vecchia
un poco svanita
come un barattolo
di aranciata aperta
ma non voleva rassegnarsi
e cercava di "non dimenticarsi"!
Parlava di una bambina bionda
che non voleva dormire da sola
e la sua mamma poverina
doveva starle sempre vicina
un giorno venne una bella signora
tutta vestita di luce viola
prese la mamma per la mano
e la port lontano, lontano
la bimba pianse 100 sere
poi si stanc
e si addorment
Quando il mattino
la venne a svegliare
con un bellissimo raggio di sole
vide la mamma poverina
che sotto un albero dormiva
e la signora vestita di viola
disse "non devi pi avere paura...
di restare sola"
C'era una volta una favola antica
quasi da tutti ormai dimenticata
che continuava a volare nell'aria
aspettando colui che l'avrebbe
di nuovo narrata
era una favola vecchia
era poco svanita
come un barattolo
di aranciata aperta
e per non essere dimenticata
divent vera...
divent! oh oh oh!
.... la vita!
song performed by Vasco Rossi
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Course Of Time. Book X.
God of my fathers! holy, just, and good!
My God! my Father! my unfailing Hope!
Jehovah! let the incense of my praise,
Accepted, burn before thy mercy seat,
And in thy presence burn both day and night.
Maker! Preserver! my Redeemer! God!
Whom have I in the heavens but Thee alone?
On earth, but Thee, whom should I praise, whom love?
For Thou hast brought me hitherto, upheld
By thy omnipotence; and from thy grace,
Unbought, unmerited, though not unsought—
The wells of thy salvation, hast refreshed
My spirit, watering it, at morn and even!
And by thy Spirit, which thou freely givest
To whom thou wilt, hast led my venturous song,
Over the vale, and mountain tract, the light
And shade of man; into the burning deep
Descending now, and now circling the mount,
Where highest sits Divinity enthroned;
Rolling along the tide of fluent thought,
The tide of moral, natural, divine;
Gazing on past, and present, and again,
On rapid pinion borne, outstripping Time,
In long excursion, wandering through the groves
Unfading, and the endless avenues,
That shade the landscape of eternity;
And talking there with holy angels met,
And future men, in glorious vision seen!
Nor unrewarded have I watched at night,
And heard the drowsy sound of neighbouring sleep;
New thought, new imagery, new scenes of bliss
And glory, unrehearsed by mortal tongue,
Which, unrevealed, I trembling, turned and left,
Bursting at once upon my ravished eye,
With joy unspeakable, have filled my soul,
And made my cup run over with delight;
Though in my face, the blasts of adverse winds,
While boldly circumnavigating man,
Winds seeming adverse, though perhaps not so,
Have beat severely; disregarded beat,
When I behind me heard the voice of God,
And his propitious Spirit say,—Fear not.
God of my fathers! ever present God!
This offering more inspire, sustain, accept;
Highest, if numbers answer to the theme;
Best answering if thy Spirit dictate most.
Jehovah! breathe upon my soul; my heart
Enlarge; my faith increase; increase my hope;
My thoughts exalt; my fancy sanctify,
And all my passions, that I near thy throne
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Pollok
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Capital is a result of labor, and is used by labor to assist it in further production. Labor is the active and initial force, and labor is therefore the employer of capital.
quote by Henry George
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Land of Promise: a Fable
I.
A pilgrim folk, o'er leagues of pathless sand
Long journeying patiently from far away,
Lured by the promise of a fairer land,
Reach'd ere the close of one eventful day
The craggy shore of a capacious stream:
And lo! the Promised Land before them lay
All in a golden sunset, whose last gleam
Reveal'd between the rovers and their rest
No barrier save that river's bridgeless breast.
II.
Each sufferer, sick and footsore from the waste,
Hail'd with reviving hope the blissful sight.
About the river-beach they pitch'd in haste
Their evening tents, and roam'd in dreams all night
The Land of Promise. At the dawn, however,
The signal trumpet sounded, summoning
The tribe to council. For that rock-bound river
Was broad, and deep, and rapid. The first thing
On which their pilgrim parliament decided
Was to preserve intact, to a community
Whose best opinions might be much divided,
The necessary strength of social unity.
And so it ruled that they should all agree
To recognize as final the authority
Of whatsoever plan might chance to be
Adopted by the vote of the majority.
III.
Scarce was this salutary rule laid down,
Ere one brisk leader of the emigration
(Whose dauntless spirit was to all well known)
Sprang forward with a shout of exultation;
And, from the shoulder of the stony shore
Pointing where every gaze instinctive turn'd,
"Brothers," he cried, "procrastinate no more!
The Promised Land, long arduously earn'd,
Before us lies. Why linger, then, the brave?
What need of projects and of plans? To me
Nature hard muscles and a man's heart gave,
Nor need I more to grasp the good I see.
Forward! Who follows? Fate befriends the bold!"
Without a pause he plunged into the wave
That 'twixt the wanderers and their wishes roll'd;
[...] Read more
poem by Edward Bulwer-Lytton from Littell's Living Age, Volume 157, Issue 2028
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Tu Boca (Your Mouth)
Spanish
Yo hacía una divina labor, sobre la roca
Creciente del Orgullo. De la vida lejana,
Algún pétalo vívido me voló en la mañana,
Algún beso en la noche. Tenaz como una loca,
Sequía mi divina labor sobre la roca.
Cuando tu voz que funde como sacra campana
En la nota celeste la vibración humana,
Tendió su lazo do oro al borde de tu boca;
—Maravilloso nido del vértigo, tu boca!
Dos pétalos de rosa abrochando un abismo…—
Labor, labor de gloria, dolorosa y liviana;
¡Tela donde mi espíritu su fue tramando él mismo!
Tú quedas en la testa soberbia de la roca,
Y yo caigo, sin fin, en el sangriento abismo!
English
I was at my divine labor, upon the rock
Swelling with Pride. From a distance,
At dawn, some bright petal came to me,
Some kiss in the night. Upon the rock,
Tenacious a madwoman, I clung to my work.
When your voice, like a sacred bell,
A celestial note with a human tremor,
Stretched its golden lasso from the edge of your mouth;
—Marvelous nest of vertigo, your mouth!
Two rose petals fastened to an abyss…—
Labor, labor of glory, painful and frivolous;
Fabric where my spirit went weaving herself!
You come to the arrogant head of the rock,
And I fall, without end, into the bloody abyss!
poem by Delmira Agustini
Added by Poetry Lover
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