Feeling good about waking and living,
Instead of the usual caffeine rejuvenation
And a plastic smile to a rising sunshine,
Then I might not feel so bad about
Finding the same world I left at night.
But it is that same, plastic, daily world
Which brings out the cold shoulder in me,
Brings out the watchful eye, cautious tongue;
Brings about a plastic, unfeeling me.
If for just one morning, I could rise and shine,
Radiantly flowing with the magic of life
That abounds through free emotion,
Uninhibited laughter, smiles, compassion;
Warmth and sunlight in a soft word,
Gentle touch of Mother Nature's virgin kiss.
Yet, I awake to a plastic sun, artificial rain,
Mechanical people living robot lives;
Laughing, crying, all the mail-order emotions,
Socially accepted happinesses by status-graph.
Oh, for the love of dreams! would I merely
Close these dulled eyes and sleep long and far,
To awaken in silence, deep in dead space,
And watch the plastic galactic pinwheel spin.
If God had intended Man to do anything except copulate, He would have given us brains.
- - - Ignatz Verbotham