The Happiness Report

The Happiness Report
from the pagan haven
of a guarded and gated
sunny seaside resort
Machine tooled
from a block of concrete
Then deposited
upon a mangrove swamp
along a once pristine coast
Now a checkpoint
and a guard tower
cast shadows
across the lungs of nature
dying of tourist cancer

The Armada Piranha
is now docking
The beggars are begging
native children
smiling and waving
at the old slave port
Guns in the sun glistening
An armed escort
with muscles bulging
for the affluent
swimming in effluent
With their sparkling hoard
and an all devouring brood
safely on board
the shuttle bus El Gringo

As the cult of stolen cargo
reads a eulogy for white ivory
the buffet feeders of greed
dine upon a black market fiasco
Nothing cocaines
the profit margins
like a prohibitive embargo
Slave traders and white bankers
dancing a global tango
The White Rhino
… been and gone
In the bliss of ignorance
like a carnival sideshow
evil hides and thrives
at the Festival of Happiness
with the Mother of All Sorrow

Suntan lotion toxic
Carbonated drinks served
upon a sea of carbolic acid
Dead coral broken
by crafts of pleasure
Fossil fuel spilling
upon the living water
Dredged … the oceans deep
Felled … a forest lost
Mother Nature
now but a shadow
being slowly put down
for a culture so shallow

Like sheep
bred fed and led
on a package tour
to a biodiverse slaughter
The primate of destruction
a weapon
of plastic mass prduction
Kiss goodbye
Yellow Fin Tuna
The Blue Fin
and the majestic Marlin
soon to follow
Perish the thought
with no thought for tomorrow

In pursuit of danger
a plastic curse
upon your water sports
flowing from an open bar
at Hotel El Burro
Pobreza espiritual
Los niños la pobreza

A State of Police
and broken rites
Lese Majesté
“The Festival of
Returning Happiness”
declaring an end
to all civil unrest
now that the military
have done their best
to silence and suppress
To celebrate
closely watched
concerts in the park
and the flying of big kites
When wealth and priviledge
whispers here
the military junta shouts
It’s global corporate sponsor
and big time donor dictates
with warnings
to those listening
No leaders of protest
left amongst the living

Children dispossessed
by the sons of private beaches
in a land bled dry
for the wild colonial boys
on a summer holiday high
As sea turtles returning
from oceans blue
to golden shores
for a gourmet breakfast
after much drunken
and anonymous spawning

“Safe now for honoured guests
of the high maintenance west
to resume vacationing.
Our sole purpose is to please!
Come walk upon Hibiscus petals
like comic book deities
with super powers.
We know our place,
for you taught it to us.
Come harvest our Lotus flowers.”

Gasoline
in whiskey bottles
Two wheel scooting
Street dealers chasing
“Viagra, Señor … or
perhaps something harder?”
Like a dose
of refugee living
A golden temple
of demolition rubble
A paper dragon flying
over an open sewer
A dying culture
The ruins of paradise
No choice offered
or given
when force feeding
all western vice

Always
there’s trouble
down near the border
Brooding forces
forcing a spark
Nurses shot dead
on the way to work
And dare not educate
your shrouded daughter
flowering in the dark
of a patriarchal powder keg
Religion spiked with venom
Malala …times a million
Innocence held captive
Kept helpless
in the darkness
where a woman
is just a possession
Submission … division
There is no honour
in killing

Lost children
of gods fallen
out of time
and out of place
All the truths
of this world
add up to one big lie
A stratosphere of bullshit
between you
and a clear blue sky
Tourista Fashionista
doing just fine
The question
you need to ask yourself
… Is your tourist dollar
funding a state of crime?
Pobreza espiritual
Los niños la Pobreza

A Report of Happiness,
from a free range anthropologist
upon a Quest Majesté;

‘God will restore the whole earth
and give it to his messy, carbon
based children as an inheritance.’

~ by David B. Redpath © 2018

First published
on Morality Park

Photography;
David B. Redpath © 2018

84 thoughts on “The Happiness Report”

      1. The Nouveau Stone Age!
        Now there’s a thought, Bojana.
        At least in the Neolithic there was
        no iron or plastic. No barbed wire,
        concrete borders, suicide bombers,
        or religious fanatics. No wholesale
        industrialised destruction of the
        environment.
        Or we could use the technology,
        and humanity, we already possess
        to fix this mess up.

        Liked by 3 people

      2. Exactly. You hit exactly the right note. Your poetry always does. I feel the outrage with you. But also frustration. What can we do? Such a huge task to try and change anything. We can’t. Except by using our pens. And making our voice be heard where we can. Keep writing like this David. I know you do, and will.

        Liked by 3 people

    1. Thank you, Drew.
      I think poverty often takes
      away freedom of choice.
      The irony is that much of the
      “developing world” didn’t
      know they were quite so poor, till colonial “tourists” from
      the west showed them
      . . . what’s best.

      Liked by 2 people

      1. Interesting that we have the
        tools already to fix much of
        mankind’s mess (except for the
        reduction of biodiversity),
        but …
        “The blizzard of the world
        has crossed the threshold
        and it has overturned
        the order of the soul.”
        ~ Leonard Cohen

        Liked by 3 people

  1. Tourista Fashionista. Ain’t that the truth.
    You know, in general terms, I am not a poetry person (I think expressed that in an earlier comment). Most of it, I don’t get. But, you…you charm me, David, so very much.
    Where were the pix taken?

    Liked by 2 people

    1. “Minimal harm, maximum charm” …
      Thanks Victoria, that could
      be a new poetic handle.
      Two of the pics are from
      Phuket, Thailand.
      The rest are from outside a
      Mayan Church in Yucatan.
      In a park, just across the road
      from the church, local were
      having a fiesta, dancing with
      bottles of birra balanced on
      their heads … Very handy!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Much of the ‘Ring of Fire’
        coast was hit by the 2004
        Tsunami.
        Being a free range
        anthropologist,
        I travel for work, Victoria.
        It’s a hard gig, but someone
        has to do it.
        Think of me when your in
        front of the fire
        . . . cuddling Oliver 🔥

        Liked by 1 person

    1. More into holistic anthropology.
      That’s where you study the hole
      mankind has gotten himself into.
      It includes the exploration of any
      possible means of extraction.
      So far I’ve only discovered one☝️

      Keep cosy with Ollie, Victoria.

      Liked by 2 people

  2. A thorough X-ray of a sad reality
    delivered by a poem of a lovely flow
    accompanied by expressive photos.
    Love the wordplay affuent- effluent:
    “An armed escort
    with muscles bulging
    for the affluent
    swimming in effluent”
    Also, love the reference to Malala
    and to the oppression of women.
    This is all a very powerful image:
    “Nurses shot dead
    on the way to work
    And dare not educate
    your shrouded daughter
    flowering in the dark
    of a patriarchal powder keg
    Religion spiked with venom
    Malala …times a million”

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Your thoughts are molt apreciat,
      Marta.
      As I ramble around, with an
      ear to the poisoned ground,
      in the dark of a total eclipse
      of the heart, it is clear mankind
      needs a complete turnaround.
      For;
      “We’re living in a powder.
      keg and giving off sparks.”

      Liked by 2 people

    1. Like a dream vision demanding
      to be birthed upon parchment,
      or canvas. Without rest till
      the zeitgeist is fully expressed.
      A vessel of clay, broken & spent.
      Yet, renewed with the hue
      of the next panoramic view,
      from the ethereal sent.

      Thanks Katy … simpático.

      Liked by 2 people

  3. Very powerful poem, David.
    Summing up nicely the destruction of Earth’s ocean and earth’s wildlife so that the affluent in their paradise of pleasure can make oceans out of their cocktails as they live the wild life.
    And then the practices of 7th Century Bedouins in the 21st Century
    to kill and subjugate on the way to 70 dark eyed houri.

    Liked by 2 people

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s