The World Is a Beautiful Place
The world is a beautiful place
to be born into
if you don't mind happiness
not always being
so very much fun
if you don't mind a touch of hell
now and then
just when everything is fine
because even in heaven
they don't sing
all the time
The world is a beautiful place
to be born into
if you don't mind some people dying
all the time
or maybe only starving
some of the time
which isn't half bad
if it isn't you
Oh the world is a beautiful place
to be born into
if you don't much mind
a few dead minds
in the higher places
or a bomb or two
now and then
in your upturned faces
or such other improprieties
as our Name Brand society
is prey to
with its men of distinction
and its men of extinction
and its priests
and other patrolmen
and its various segregations
and congressional investigations
and other constipations
that our fool flesh
is heir to
Yes the world is the best place of all
for a lot of such things as
making the fun scene
and making the love scene
and making the sad scene
and singing low songs and having inspirations
and walking around
looking at everything
and smelling flowers
and goosing statues
and even thinking
and kissing people and
making babies and wearing pants
and waving hats and
dancing
and going swimming in rivers
on picnics
in the middle of the summer
and just generally
'living it up'
Yes
but then right in the middle of it
comes the smiling
mortician
Lawrence Ferlinghetti
(Yeah, yeah, I know, I know - too much poetry; not enough prose. *sigh*)
Monday, June 04, 2007
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7 comments:
Wow, you link to me! You're probably an interesting person. Maybe I should add your feed to my Bloglines list...
This poem makes me want to scream and then do good and world-changing things in spite of everything. Just in spite. Too bad that this feeling will pass as soon as I close the browser and go back to thinking about exams. I'll try to keep a sense of proportions about what's important and less so, and see if I can keep it the rest of the day.
I do indeed link to you. Hopefully you'll post in your blog more often then I do in mine. :P
The poem makes me doubt happiness - because not everyone can be happy. Or can they? I haven't figured it out.
There is a short story by Ursula K. LeGuin about a world where happines for almost all is bought to the price of complete misery for one (or few).
But again: isn't happiness something that can exist in parallel to misery? It's not like the only happiness is pure euphoria.
Beats me!
The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas.
Yeah, I remember that story. Its quite good. :)
And actually that story is pretty close to reality. If we consider the fact that the majority of people on earth live in poverty while the minority live in relative luxury. Whether material prosperity necessarily translates into happiness is arguable though...
"But again: isn't happiness something that can exist in parallel to misery? It's not like the only happiness is pure euphoria."
True enough!
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