Phony Avionics Poem by John Sensele

Wisdom oozes and trickles from an anthill
Into a craggy mountain in Eastern Zambia in a reversal of roles
Which ordinarily launches the sage on a hill
And confines the meek, the youth to puerile poles.

Wisdom flies at supersonic speed like Concorde
Tears the air with its sonic boom
As it sows seeds and nuggets of golden accord
To audiences that are ready to thwart impending doom.

Blinking eyes of wisdom seem to have fallen asleep
While indiscretions scurry about, strutting their scatterbrains
But, in the long run, wisdom paves the way for deep
Thoughts, gems of philosophy and eternal verities to soothe growing pains.

Wisdom long ago opted for quiet, reflexive diplomacy
Away from the glare of megaphone histrionics
Blown to smithereens in public galleries with a plethora of dicy
Trivia, drivel and miasma claiming credit for inventing avionics.