Shut the Door to Paradise, Momma

A poem about Koh Phangan, Thailand by Brian Gruber

Don’t shut the door behind you, paradise is what you make it.

Shut the door to paradise momma,
Shut the door to paradise behind me momma.

Humans be fucking up my plan.

I arrived on that ferry,
Couldn’t believe what I saw.
Palm trees and beaches, Beauty galore.

I wept tears of joy,
Knew I’d arrived.
This Koh Phangan paradise,
It’s a fat taste of divine.

All my life I sought a place,
That I could call home.
Maybe if I could,
See some buffalo roam.

(sing a verse) Oh, give me a home where the Buffalo roam,
Where the Deer and the Antelope play;
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,
And the sky is not cloudy all day.

But now that I’m here,
Something’s not right.
Shut the door to paradise, momma.
Humans are a blight.

When I got here, I noticed,
Them Thai folks were nice.
They welcomed me gently,
Rents were well priced.

Now my friends are all coming,
And I just want to shout.
Shut the door to paradise, momma.
And keep more like me out.

I brought my tastes and my habits,
New stuff now I got.
Now veggie burgers be selling,
For six hundred baht.

Shut the door to paradise behind me, momma.
Please keep things real nice.

I post on my blog doing them humblebrags,
I’m living so simply, not like you corporate drags.

Now readers show up, wanting a slice of the same.
Shut the door to paradise, momma. I think I’m going insane.

The humble Thai people welcomed me, no demands.
Now they send their kids to college, sometimes selling some land.
They prosper and make their own choices I guess,
But why don’t they ask ME what’s best for MY ass?

The moment we farangs came here by the scores,
We upset the balance, opened the floodgates for more.
We imported our values, our needs, and our tech,
While pretending tomorrow won’t become an eco-wreck.

We want to shut the door behind us because these new kids on the block,
Seem crass and unstylish and we wish they’d go back.
We question their motives and values and kids,
We don’t like construction unless it’s serving our whims.

But paradise is where the heart is,
Half the island’s national park.
One monk made that happen,
That can be a good start.

We got beaches and mountains, a dead airport to boot,
Why not live paradise daily, dystopia’s for fools.

If you want real Thai living, farm rice up northeast,
Want nature’s seclusion, there’s the Andaman Sea.

But if your paradise includes folks from all round the globe,
With L’Alcove, Orion, Eden, Rasta Home.
With alt thinkers who grew this place with local Thai,
Then paradise is what you make it, it’s all in your eye.

You can’t shut the door behind you,
Not really, it’s a lie.
You’re here cause you love it,
Find something better, go try.

Phangan’s eco future is now in our hands.
Your community and lifestyle is your personal brand.
Contribute tomorrow, then contribute some more,
The outcomes seem elusive but the rewards come, for sure.

And if your search for Phangan paradise is aggrieved from the start,
You are doomed to dystopia, and that don’t seem smart.

Life can be beautiful, yeah, some days it’s fucked up,
It’s all what we make it, sometimes it’s sheer luck.

So raise a toast to paradise and value what is,
Up to you to make it better, make acceptance your bliss.