The Laborer / / In the sizzling heat of the afternoon / Clothes drenched and shoes filled with sweat / Last nights long shift makes the body ache / In growing age when the muscle is the only strength / The will like faith growing stronger with each passing day / A disease knocking at the visceral parts of the body / Joints now like the hinges in the machine need oil / Moved in hundreds and like all others / Away from the family and the little ones memory / A letter from the home in need of money / For the doctor’s fee as education is forlorn desire / Minimum wage half robbed by the supervisor / And like a true competition in economics / Out on the metal gates a replacement is waiting / Alienated from the production of the product / Creating surplus for the consumption of the rich / His toils are in the shine of the markets in goods glittering / Unaware of the political upheaval / No care for his welfare / He has no future; his children will also work like him / The power of the muscle, will and faith / He is a laborer who if not given the job / Will go for a daily wage and sleep on the road side / Poverty is his bread, poverty his butter / Poverty that alienates / Poverty the missing link / Poverty the slogan / Poverty it said is loved by the prophets / Poverty it said is gods chosen creed / Poverty the banner / Poverty the tears / Poverty the helplessness / Poverty the consciousness / Break it free / The ordained writing on the book of fate / To bring it down / Open its pages / Remove the names / Of all the people poor / Break it free / The pages they call divine / For divinity is me / Divinity is you / For I shall write / My own destiny / On the book of fate / Up from the skies / Down to the earth / In poverty I will live / But on my own choosing / Break the bond / Of eternal slavery / Poverty / Thou art the bitterest vice Sadiqullah Khan
A gaunt ruin still stands proud in the unrelenting heat of the midday sun in Oman. The trees , almost in the centre of the photo, are beached by the searing rays: they look dead but miraculously cling to life.
Looking up a rather imposing dead tree
Not much now remains of John of Gaunt’s castle in Haverah Park, North Yorkshire
Fabulous creatures as described by H.P. Lovecraft in his story / “The dream quest of unknown Kadath.” / Original pencil sketch painted in Photoshop CS3.
This is Nigel Gaunt, photographer from Red Dirt Photography in Broome. If you get a chance one day do a photographic tour with him, your photography will improve no end ! http://www.reddirtphoto.com.au/aboutus.html
Royal Arcade, off Bourke Street, Melbourne. One of the older arcades (completed in 1870) in Melbourne’s CBD. It features the characters Gog and Magog with their accompanying Gaunt’s Clock that have been striking the hour since 1892. / Camera – Sony Cyber-shot 10.1
Katherine Swynford was the mistress and eventually wife of John of Gaunt, so became the ancestress of kings of England. I loved this entry to her house in Lincoln.
Black Stone on a White Stone by César Vallejo I will die in Paris with a rainstorm, / on a day I already remember, / I will die in Paris—and I don’t shy away— / perhaps on a Thursday, as today is, in autumn. It will be Thursday, because today, Thursday, as I prose / these lines, I’ve put on my humeri in a bad mood, / and, today like never before, I’ve turned back, / with all of my road, to see myself alone.
Wheal Coates – the gaunt remains of the once magnificent engine houses at St Agnes Cornwall – taken as the sun was dropping over the horizon. I love the colour of the heather in the fading light….A baby soft pink hue in the sky just reflecting its colour nto the sea. / My boyfriends car (now husband – - 40 years of wedded bliss this year—I hasten to add I was far far too young to get married but it has obviously worked!!!!) broke down close to the mines late one evening (before the area was cordon off) and we had to get his parents landrover to tow us out the next morning – how mortifying!!
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