The Gods of Our Choosing


Squandering days at an old island bar

Watching the world pass him by

Can’t win for losing

The god of his choosing

To a bottle

And a love that won’t die


Coffee at sunrise and midmorning beer

He rolls in the bar by noon

Pension affords him

The comforts to hold him

Cheap needles

And a black bottomed spoon


Afternoon breezes and fluffy white clouds

Pretty girls in strings strolling by

They used to adore him

Now mostly ignore him

An old fool

Just a bird that can’t fly


He went to college and found a career

A perfectly capable man

But bad love soon found him

The debt almost drowned him

Four kids

And a green mini van


Stories abound at the old island bar

Pull up a stool and you’ll see

Folks that are losing

The Gods of their choosing

Living life

To a lesser degree



Daily Post Keyword:Capable


About Phil

Hi, my name is Phil. I’ve managed to escape the corporate world, rid myself of excess belongings, travel the country extensively in my old Winnebago, and find a new home on a beautiful barrier island in the Gulf of Mexico. I define myself as: a free spirit, a writer, a philosophical anarchist, a poet; a lover of nature, a lover of art, a protector of animals, as well as a devoted friend and partner
This entry was posted in General, Poetry, Reflection, Uncategorized, Writing and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to The Gods of Our Choosing

  1. IT says:

    Phil 😦 This is so sad. 😦


    • Phil says:

      Been writing honky tonk, love lost stuff lately. Don’t really know why other than it makes for good songs. I should write more positive stuff huh?


      • IT says:

        We all have to write…what we write. Sadness about things…makes for great poetry. This one was really sad 😦 I’m glad you are doing ok though Phil. You are a great writer…happy stuff or sad stuff! 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

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