The Regress of Progress or, The Poverty of Wealth (A Poem)


DSC01993Hope springs forth or so I’m told
From joy and love a bountiful well
The pessimist to the optimist scold
Reminding them of this world, this hell

What is our purpose in this busy life
We fight traffic to a job we hate
And fight traffic back to a home of strife
Awake, for this night you cannot overtake

To run away to something meaningful
To run across the fields and hills
To discover in this world something beautiful
And cease relying on our cures and our pills

A man used to plow a field that was his own
As his family was with him in his vocation
We once understood the meaning of home
It was more than an address, a location

The world has itself in a damn hurry
We are only racing to our graves
Impossible to leave all the bustle and scurry
We are all fools and knaves

Buy the farm, build a skyscraper, and call it progress
Put the children in school and the parents at work
Our advanced civilization is a facade and a mess
Suppressed are our dreams, deep down they lurk

Created free, to progress we are now enslaved
We make great paper money and wage
But our master’s name upon us we engrave
And have traded nature’s freedom for a corporate cage

We are rational animals, soulful beasts
But we seek to deny both in the pursuit of wealth
Frozen dinners and fast food replace feasts
The beauty of this world is now hidden, it is stealth

Rise up above the skyscrapers and corporate chain
Reclaim your rationally savage essence
Pursue a life of living, one not in vain
And be happy as you grow in senescence

Advertisements