Ruffled Plumes

Passions hung in the cyber air

hearts clinging to that net vine

as if that gossamer space

only real in the mind

might be a homestead of realty.

 

Lives inflamed over graphics

like there were a piece of land,

words used as saber to draw blood

when literary plumes are ruffled

over things that are just illusion,

the conjures of pride and opinion

that have no true substance

other than as images

preserved on a web site

without life or solidity.

 

So what the titan duels

when it all is simply vanity?

I do see a battlefield

worth the stress and anger

where it only exists

on one’s computer screen.

 

But for some this fantasy

seems to be a sustenance,

how they turn something simple

into a war.

 

Life to me has more gold

found in what inspires

than those criticism spears

some hurl without hesitation.