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An acre in Middlesex is better than a principality in Utopia.

quote by Thomas B. Macaulay
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Utopia

we'd gather around all in a room fasten our belts engage in dialogue
we'd all slow down rest without guilt not lie without fear disagree sans judgement

we would stay and respond and expand and include and allow and forgive and
enjoy and evolve and discern and inquire and accept and admit and divulge and
open and reach out and speak up

This is utopia this is my utopia
This is my ideal my end in sight
Utopia this is my utopia
This is my nirvana
My ultimate

we'd open our arms we'd all jump in we'd all coast down into safety nets

we would share and listen and support and welcome be propelled by passion not
invest in outcomes we would breathe and be charmed and amused by difference
be gentle and make room for every emotion

we'd provide forums we'd all speak out we'd all be heard we'd all feel seen

we'd rise post-obstacle more defined more grateful we would heal be humbled
and be unstoppable we'd hold close and let go and know when to do which we'd
release and disarm and stand up and feel safe

this is utopia this is my utopia
this is my ideal my end in sight
utopia this is my utopia
this is my nirvana
my ultimate

song performed by Alanis Morissette from Under Rug Swept
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Road To Utopia

I blink my eyes and then it happens again
I lose my way but I discover a friend
Its a typical day on the road to utopia
I walk along until my feet are sore
I rest a minute then I walk some more
Theres no time to delay on the road to utopia
And my destination is the unknown
But Im never far away from my home
It shines like laser light
Its in my dreams at night
cause Ive been all my life
On the road to utopia
I will be there to share your tragedy
I know that you would do the same for me
Its no trouble at all on the road to utopia
When day is over and Im trying to sleep
It comes so easy cause Im not counting sheep
I am counting the smiles on the road to utopia
And I may lose my way again and again
But Ill cross that borderline in the end
Trouble trouble trouble whirling all about
But if we stick together we can stick it out
Will we ever find the loves we lost again
Does this crazy journey ever have an end
And will I find what Im after
Do I know what Im after
Guess Ill join in the laughter
On the road to utopia

song performed by Utopia
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[...] Read more

poem by Caasder Fronds
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Hero's Acre

Brave Mary Magdalene of Magdala
She stood by Jesus' side after
The treacherous disciples had fled!
She was there when he died on
The cross.Oh Mary! She did not
Cross question and interrogate
The son of God when He demonstrated
How feeble death in reality is!
But don't mention her in
The presence of the pen
Pushers of Hero's Acre!
They will glare at you and
Claim the fame for themselves
Mother Theresa Of The gutters
She worked like a slave in the slum
Woe unto the robbers of Hero's Acre
The credit they say is theirs!
Her name they're content to
Bury in the mud of the gutter
The lesser known Blanche Moyilwa
Was executed by her mother and father
She would not trade her faith for
the known superstitions!
Afterward they claimed her saint's
Powers for themselves and you will
Hear the bosses of Hero's Acre mention
Her name in dark angry undertones
Why is Hero's Acre everywhere manned
By those who worship the power mongers
And not those who worked themselves
To death for the common good of humanity?
And is the world challenged to smell
The putrid dung of gender discrimination
Again? And what are you fighting to do to
Correct the glaring imbalances in Hero's Acre?

poem by Ngaka Motaung
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Afternoons In Utopia

Acrobats and comets floating by so fast
Childrens faces smile like suns at last
Lilac butterflies are cruising without fear
All inviting you to stay and rest here
You can halt your car for an afternoon in utopia
We shall stop the wars on those afternoons in utopia
Mighty mao moondog drifts across the grass
Healing lullabies for easter time on mars
Paint your hats and shoues with flowers and with stars
Singing in metropolitan operas
You can halt your car for an afternoon in utopia
We shall stop the wars on those afternoons in utopia

song performed by Alphaville
Added by Lucian Velea
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Of An Earthly Utopia

Of an Earthly Utopia all hope has not gone
The dream of peace and freedom from hunger it is living on
The flower of peace though not blooming it has not yet died
And the dream of Utopia cannot be destroyed
Those who try to detroy our Planet through their lust of greed
At the destruction of Nature cannot hope to succeed
When the last human being in eternal rest lay
Mother Nature will live on in her natural way
And since climate change is happening all around me
An Earthly Utopia i may not live to see
For the health of Mother Nature we do not seem to care
We pollute her lands and her oceans and her rivers and air
But for our crimes against her Nature us can forgive
And despite our greed the dream of Utopia does live.

poem by Francis Duggan
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The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 06

'This were a wikkede wey but whoso hadde a gyde
That [myghte] folwen us ech a foot' - thus this folk hem mened.
Quod Perkyn the Plowman, ' By Seint Peter of Rome!
I have an half acre to erie by the heighe weye;
Hadde I cryed this half acre and sowen it after,
I wolde wende with yow and the wey teche.'
'This were a long lettyng,' quod a lady in a scleyre;

'What sholde we wommen werche the while?'
'Somme shul sowe the sak ' quod Piers, ' for shedyng of the whete;
And ye lovely ladies with youre longe fyngres,
That ye have silk and sandel to sowe whan tyme is
Chesibles for chapeleyns chirches to honoure.
Wyves and widewes, wolle and flex spynneth
Maketh cloth, I counseille yow, and kenneth so youre doughtres.
The nedy and the naked, nymeth hede how thei liggeth,
And casteth hem clothes, for so commaundeth Truthe.
For I shal lenen hem liflode, but if the lond faille,
As longe as I lyve, for the Lordes love of hevene.
And alle manere of men that by mete and drynke libbeth,
Helpeth hym to werche wightliche that wynneth youre foode.'
'By Crist!' quod a knyght thoo, 'he kenneth us the beste;
Ac on the teme, trewely, taught was I nevere.
Ac kenne me,' quod the knyght, 'and by Crist I wole assaye!'
'By Seint Poul!' quod Perkyn, 'Ye profre yow so faire
That I shal swynke and swete and sowe for us bothe,
And [ek] labour[e] for thi love al my lif tyme,
In covenaunt that thow kepe Holy Kirke and myselve
Fro wastours and fro wikked men that this world destruyeth;
And go hunte hardiliche to hares and foxes,
To bores and to bukkes that breken down myne hegges;
And go affaite thi faucons wilde foweles to kille,
For thei cometh to my croft and croppeth my whete.'
Curteisly the knyght thanne co[nseyved] thise wordes
'By my power, Piers, I plighte thee my trouthe
To fulfille this forward, though I fighte sholde;
Als longe as I lyve I shal thee mayntene.'
' Ye, and yet a point,' quod Piers, 'I preye yow of moore

Loke ye tene no tenaunt but Truthe wole assente;
And though ye mowe amercy hem, lat mercy be taxour
And mekenesse thi maister, maugree Medes chekes.
And though povere men profre yow presentes and yiftes,
Nyme it noght, an aventure thow mowe it noght deserve;
For thow shalt yelde it ayein at one yeres ende
In a ful perilous place - Purgatorie it hatte.
And mysbede noght thi bondemen - the bettre may thow spede;
Though he be thyn underlyng here, wel may happe in hevene
That he worth worthier set and with moore blisse
Amice, ascende superius.

[...] Read more

poem by William Langland
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Paul Revere's Ride (The Landlord's Tale)

Listen, my children, and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in 'Seventy-five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.

He said to his friend, "If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North Church tower as a signal light, --
One, if by land, and two, if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country folk to be up and to arm."

Then he said, "Good night!" and with muffled oar
Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,
Just as the moon rose over the bay,
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
The somerset, British man-of-war;
A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
Across the moon like a prison bar,
And a huge black hulk, that was magnified
By its own reflection in the tide.

Meanwhile, his friend, through alley and street,
Wanders and watches with eager ears,
Till in the silence around him he hears
The muster of men at the barrack door,
The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,
And the measured tread of the grenadiers,
Marching down to their boats on the shore.

Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church
By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
To the belfry-chamber overhead,
And startled the pigeons from their perch
On the sombre rafters, that round him made
Masses and moving shapes of shade, --
By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,
To the highest window in the wall,
Where he paused to listen and look down
A moment on the roofs of the town,
And the moonlight flowing over all.

Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,
In their night-encampment on the hill,
Wrapped in silence so deep and still
That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. The Landlord's Tale; Paul Revere's Ride

Listen, my children, and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.

He said to his friend, 'If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North Church tower as a signal light,--
One, if by land, and two, if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country folk to be up and to arm.'

Then he said, 'Good night!' and with muffled oar
Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,
Just as the moon rose over the bay,
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
The Somerset, British man-of-war;
A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
Across the moon like a prison bar,
And a huge black hulk, that was magnified
By its own reflection in the tide.

Meanwhile, his friend, through alley and street,
Wanders and watches with eager ears,
Till in the silence around him he hears
The muster of men at the barrack door,
The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,
And the measured tread of the grenadiers,
Marching down to their boats on the shore.

Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,
By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
To the belfry-chamber overhead,
And startled the pigeons from their perch
On the sombre rafters, that round him made
Masses and moving shapes of shade,--
By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,
To the highest window in the wall,
Where he paused to listen and look down
A moment on the roofs of the town,
And the moonlight flowing over all.

Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,
In their night-encampment on the hill,
Wrapped in silence so deep and still
That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Utopia

Utopia
Its a strange day
No colours or shapes
No sound in my head
I forget who i am
When im with you
Theres no reason
Theres no sense
Im not supposed to feel
I forget who i am
I forget
Fascist baby
Utopia, utopia
My dog needs new ears
Make his eyes see forever
Make him live like me
Again and again
Im wired to the world
Thats how i know everything
Im super brain
Thats how they made me

song performed by Goldfrapp
Added by Lucian Velea
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There will not be one kind of community existing and one kind of life led in utopia. Utopia will consist of utopias, of many different and divergent communities in which people lead different kinds of lives under different institutions. Some kinds of communities will be more attractive to most than others; communities will wax and wane. People will leave some for others or spend their whole lives in one. Utopia is a framework for utopias, a place where people are at liberty to join together voluntarily to pursue and attempt to realize their own vision of the good life in the ideal community but where no one can impose his
own utopian vision upon others.

quote by Robert Nozick
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Anglicised Utopia

Society has quite forsaken all her wicked courses,
Which empties our police courts, and abolishes divorces.
(Divorce is nearly obsolete in England.)
No tolerance we show to undeserving rank and splendour;
For the higher his position is, the greater the offender.
(That's a maxim that is prevalent in England.)
No Peeress at our Drawing-Room before the Presence passes
Who wouldn't be accepted by the lower-middle classes;
Each shady dame, whatever be her rank, is bowed out neatly.
In short, this happy country has been Anglicised completely!
It really is surprising
What a thorough Anglicising
We've brought about - Utopia's quite another land;
In her enterprising movements,
She is England - with improvements,
Which we dutifully offer to our mother-land!

Our city we have beautified - we've done it willy-nilly -
And all that isn't Belgrave Square is Strand and Piccadilly.
(They haven't any slummeries in England.)
We have solved the labour question with discrimination polished,
So poverty is obsolete and hunger is abolished -
(They are going to abolish it in England.)
The Chamberlain our native stage has purged, beyond a question,
Of "risky" situation and indelicate suggestion;
No piece is tolerated if it's costumed indiscreetly -
In short, this happy country has been Anglicised completely!
It really is surprising
What a thorough Anglicising
We've brought about - Utopia's quite another land;
In her enterprising movements,
She is England - with improvements,
Which we dutifully offer to our mother-land!

Our Peerage we've remodelled on an intellectual basis,
Which certainly is rough on our hereditary races -
(They are going to remodel it in England.)
The Brewers and the Cotton Lords no longer seek admission,
And Literary Merit meets with proper recognition -
(As Literary Merit does in England!)
Who knows but we may count among our intellectual chickens
Like them an Earl of Thackeray and p'raps a Duke of Dickens -
Lord Fildes and Viscount Millais (when they come) we'll welcome
sweetly -
And then, this happy country will be Anglicised completely!
It really is surprising
What a thorough Anglicising
We've brought about - Utopia's quite another land;
In her enterprising movements,
She is England - with improvements,

[...] Read more

poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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The singing in god's acre

Out yonder in the moonlight, wherein God's Acre lies,
Go angels walking to and fro, singing their lullabies.
Their radiant wings are folded, and their eyes are bended low,
As they sing among the beds whereon the flowers delight to grow,--

"Sleep, oh, sleep!
The Shepherd guardeth His sheep.
Fast speedeth the night away,
Soon cometh the glorious day;
Sleep, weary ones, while ye may,
Sleep, oh, sleep!"

The flowers within God's Acre see that fair and wondrous sight,
And hear the angels singing to the sleepers through the night;
And, lo! throughout the hours of day those gentle flowers prolong
The music of the angels in that tender slumber-song,--

"Sleep, oh, sleep!
The Shepherd loveth His sheep.
He that guardeth His flock the best
Hath folded them to His loving breast;
So sleep ye now, and take your rest,--
Sleep, oh, sleep!"

From angel and from flower the years have learned that soothing song,
And with its heavenly music speed the days and nights along;
So through all time, whose flight the Shepherd's vigils glorify,
God's Acre slumbereth in the grace of that sweet lullaby,--

"Sleep, oh, sleep!
The Shepherd loveth His sheep.
Fast speedeth the night away,
Soon cometh the glorious day;
Sleep, weary ones, while ye may,--
Sleep, oh, sleep!"

poem by Eugene Field
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God's-Acre

I like that ancient Saxon phrase, which calls
The burial-ground God's-Acre! It is just;
It consecrates each grave within its walls,
And breathes a benison o'er the sleeping dust.

God's-Acre! Yes, that blessed name imparts
Comfort to those, who in the grave have sown
The seed that they had garnered in their hearts,
Their bread of life, alas! no more their own.

Into its furrows shall we all be cast,
In the sure faith, that we shall rise again
At the great harvest, when the archangel's blast
Shall winnow, like a fan, the chaff and grain.

Then shall the good stand in immortal bloom,
In the fair gardens of that second birth;
And each bright blossom mingle its perfume
With that of flowers, which never bloomed on earth.

With thy rude ploughahare, Death, turn up the sod,
And spread the furrow for the seed we sow;
This is the field and Acre of our God,
This is the place where human harvests grow!

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Perhaps the greatest utopia would be if we could all realize that no utopia is possible; no place to run, no place to hide, just take care of business here and now.

quote by Jack Carroll
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Inside Of Me

By eric clapton and simon climie
The point on the water, theres a change in the air,
A vibe in the darkness but theres nobody there.
I look for the reason but theres nothing to see,
Just a hole in my memory where my mind used to be.
Tell me why
Can I find no relief in my heart.
I reside
In a world that has fallen apart.
Out of my mind, baby, show me a sign, baby,
Show me a way to get back on time, please.
Where do we go, baby, how will I know?
Who holds the key, is it hidden inside of me?
But why should I worry and why do I care
When this road that I walk on is going nowhere.
I stand and I study every face in the crowd,
See the fear in their eyes, they must be thinking out loud.
Chorus
Scratching the surface, it all looks the same;
A world full of anger with no one to blame.
But who can I turn to? who holds the key?
And who has the answer? I think its inside of me.
Chorus
Chorus
All things considered it looks as though utopia were far closer to us than
Anyone, only fifteen years ago, could have imagined. then, I projected it six
Hundred years into the future. today it seems quite possible that the horror
May be upon us within a single century. that is, if we refrain from blowing
Ourselves to smithereens in the interval. indeed, unless we choose to
Decentralize and to use applied science, not as the end to which human beings
Are to be made the means, but as the means to producing a race of free
Individuals, we have only two alternatives to choose from: either a number of
National militarized totalitarianisms, having as their root the terror of the
Atomic bomb and as their consequence the destruction of civilization (or, if
The warfare is limited, the perpetuation of militarism); or else one
Supranational totalitarianism, called into existence by the social chaos
Resulting from rapid technological progress in general and the atomic
Revolution in particular, and developing, under the need for efficiency and
Stability, into the welfare-tyranny of utopia. you pays your money and you
Takes your choice.
{the quote is the final paragraph of the foreward to aldous huxleys brave
New world, transcribed here in its entirety.}

song performed by Eric Clapton
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Utopia Parkway

Well Ive been saving for a custom van
And Ive been playing for a cover band
And my baby doesnt understand
Why I never turned from boy to man
I got it made
I got it down
I am the king of this island town
Im on my own
Im on my way
Down utopia parkway
And while Im waiting for my time to come
Im gonna get a little shopping done
Ill get some paper and a staple gun
And put my name in front of everyone
I got it made
I got it down
I am the king of this goddamn town
Im on my own
Im on my way
Down utopia parkway
Gonna let my hair grow down my back
Gonna brace myself for the big attack
And theyll never know what hit them when Im gone

song performed by Fountains Of Wayne
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Long Summer Days

(Justin Hayward)
Long summer days, I keep thinking
What to do with my time
So many ways, I keep sinking
What's to do with my time
Take me back, I don't mind
(Take me back) I've got time
(Take me back) and let me start again
Time hurries by, I keep thinking
What's to do in our time
Don't let it by, just keep thinking
What's to do in our time
Take me back, I don't mind
(Take me back) I've got time
(Take me back) and let me start again
Utopia's within our sight (Utopia)
Don't kick it or we lose it
Though you think the world's too fast
It's that way 'cause we choose it
Automation is the cry (Automation)
Our minds have been forgotten
To understand me, you must try
My thoughts are turning rotten
Oh, please, please
Don't mess it up now for me
Please, please
Don't sit there and condemn me
Please, please, please
Long summer days, I keep thinking
What's to do with my time
So many ways, I keep sinking
What's to do with my time
Take me back, I don't mind
(Take me back) I've got time
(Take me back) and let me start again
Ah, ah, ah, ah long summer days
*************************************************************

song performed by Moody Blues
Added by Lucian Velea
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Utopia To Me

That Utopia of all, that Eden place
is beyond my eyes I fear.
I can only look and concentrate
on places that are here.
I cannot dwell on a fantasy land
that is too far away.
I can only focus intently with eyes
that see what is today.

But because I can't imagine it
does not mean it's not there.
And I'm sure if I ever encountered it
there's nothing that would compare.
And what would Utopia and Eden be?
It would be gardens of music
sweet love and poetry.
I would be immersed in all of it
and pray that I could be
sharing it with you, my love
throughout eternity.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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Utopia

Closer to Utopia than expected.
It has been witnessed.
And it comes quick.
A resistance of it will begin.
Exposing darkness that will end.
Appearances of flaws will flee.
Eyes will open to free,
Those in disbelief.
And a humanity that had been planned...
Will unite mankind hand and hand.
Dispelling misunderstandings,
To finally understand...
We are the product and not the creator of Earth.
The Moon and Sun decides together who lives or dies.
We call this collective God!
And for those who find that 'odd'...
Will never perfect that job that is done.
Utopia comes.
This evolution has begun!
To raise within everyone a higher consciousness.
And the limitedness of egos will diminish.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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