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A Glass Of Wine

A Glass of Wine

Desperately desiring depth

I wade through the shallows

in the muddy waters of distracted disorientation

in the random salesmanship of a million products

all vying for my attentions

intent upon my demise as a thinking entity

transforming me into a consumer of yet another “Big Gulp.”

Trapped perhaps

in the sordid world of mundane thought


a pattern of self destruction so encompassing

as they laugh at my dilemma

these powers that be

so easy to blame

but what about me?

What part am I playing in this perpetual processing plant of

mass extinction

what do I actually do about it?

A call to arms?

Or do I merely howl at the moon

insufficient on all fronts

yet not without tooth and claw

for there is power in number

and when two becomes three

multiplied ad infinitum

a beast arises capable of consuming the consumers

the hundredth monkey come at last.

I must confess

I am spoiling for a fight!

A visible, tangible enemy

something I can sink my teeth into

one that doesn’t evaporate on sight

becoming again an abstract ideal

and merely leaving me with a bad taste in my mouth.

Where are they?

these serial rapists of the natural order

perpetual perpetrators

Traitors I mean

who’ve now unlocked Pandora’s box?

Show Yourselves!!!

Stand before me eye to eye

toe to toe

I dare you

but I must warn you

I’ll go down swinging

wildly perhaps in an adrenal dump of massive proportions

better keep your chin down

for one of those punches is bound to connect.

Okay, granted,

maybe I should calm down

a more gradual process

a slower build

the beast never shows his face anyway

and even if I cut off his head he’d just grow another.

Back to the drawing board

a lesson learned

a vision vented

I feel better now

and even if nothing outside has really changed something inside of me has

a new insight

one requiring some thought and reflection

I’ll take a page from Scarlett O’hara

I’ll think about it tomorrow


that’s the ticket


that should be soon enough

anybody have a glass of wine?

By davy anonymous

The Phoenix

The Phoenix

Seeking for sanity

I find it not

not in the dying embers of fires long spent

nor in places of confusion

far from daybreaks doorway.

Where then should I seek?

Not in the ramblings of the created offspring,

who always

wise as children

never maturing,

seek the same thing I seek

but with even less fortitude.

Where than a hope be found?

Not in the spark

but the flame whence it came

troubled not by the winds of desire

but peace at last

In the stillness of burnt offerings

where the phoenix will arise from the ashes

to begin a new dawn