Poetry And The Art Of Complaining

We human beings have taken complaining to a whole new level of art. We complain to each other. We complain to our selves. We complain when it is too hot, cold, windy, cloudy, etc.

We actually depend on the fact that complaining is often the surest way to connect with strangers. At an airport for example we say, “The plane is late again!” Instantly we are friends with total strangers.

Here is a very brief audio clip from a workshop that covered this subject. Here is the recording:  (And then the poem mentioned in the audio …)



Like crows they have learned to live everywhere.

In every part of the day or country it seems.

Sure, they like rain or clouds, but

even sunshine has a few hidden inside.


Whole towns have created celebrations in their honor

and name themselves by such tales of hard times and woe.

If two strangers meet the most natural way to

befriend one another is by exchanging them.


As in “Think the sun will ever come out again?”

Or “what about those taxes?”

And complaints have their whole history too

even in God’s house – how heaven itself


was just one long reaction to hell.

And how we talked about, even there

the harps out of tune, that old useless choir

and how it droned on and on.


Oh the burden

of such a difficult paradise,

this hard-time eternity

that never ends.


Dale Biron – From Dale’s Book: Why We Do Our Daily Practices

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