The Blues Have Not Cured My Questions
Moods pass like phases of the moon, luminescent fluctuations in colored hues, as drift I may in languid states of
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Author: Tony DeLorger
Tarred with the Dumb Stick
If it weren’t for the echoes of my own voice coming back to remind me, I’d languish in the lulling
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Whole in the Light of Truth
Eloquent the dialogue, the rendered words of balanced twain: one the smile of trust indulged, the other from the demon’s
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Such a Facile Love, Surprised
When held, is a nurtured love sound, is it found and held til world ends, and then extends to realms
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In the Labyrinth
In the labyrinth I find comfort, each wall but a mirror of my person reflected in endless passages, where both
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The Seeds to Sew
When the wind turned, so did the day, so did life in disarray, and I wonder if so attuned is
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A Winter’s Night Too Harsh
I relish the quiet unobtrusive lull of days end, to be enveloped in that haze of glittered sky in fine
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Answers to Our Questions
Questions flow like relentless streams, cascading over stone and dream, to scatter in a thousand parts, seeking meaning on earthy
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Facing Ourselves, Facing the Darkness
As we approach are our darkest moments, and as our minds disallow the light, we shrink to an assemblage of
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Fear is a Burden We Do Not Have to Carry
We fashion our darkest ills, fear the hooded highwayman accosting all our dreams, and we buckle under weight of panic,
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The Cross That I Must Bear
Drawn from the mire of conclusion, I witness my own mind turn, as in reality my discerning left wanting, having
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Ends That Mark Beginnings
Swept away, those dreams once savored, a change of heart, a dull honed sabre, to cut my languished hopes to
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Extend That Helping Hand…
The expectations of others are often a burden of weight, but far worse is their judgement, the perspective they take
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Unnecessary Clinging to Pain…
Sorrow bound, inflicted wounds that never heal become the ache of a soul, memories too stark and cuts too deep
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Meaning…In the Moment
In this minute, this fleeting moment of insignificance, I can but grasp its fleeting spark, for what do I have
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The Cycle of Rise and Fall
Fading life like ebbing tides reflections of the state of being we call life, yet as the tide knows, when
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Innate Truths and Possibilities
To see the inherent beauty of a petal, its perfect shape, its colored blush and subtle heart, is to see
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Another Storm Imparts…
Another storm broods on a jagged horizon, the seas a cutting edge in relief, as wayward spite exacts its fight
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As the Abyss Stares back…
Peering into an abyss so laden with fear it remains shallow, the fear subsides, as falling would be resting on
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To Counter the Rage Unleashed from its Cage
The voices drawl with an incompatible ire, placed outside the grace of acceptance, fire, and whosoever yields to their own
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Tsunami…the Venting
The wave swells with gargantuan girth, like a pulsing heart filled afore birth, awaiting that moment of release, that beginning
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The Poet’s Way…Honing the Craft
Writing is an art of formidable depth and nuance, the more experienced the writer, the more complex and multidimensional the
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I Found Her Again in My Dreams
Drifting in the ether, dreams attenuate my focus, as they infuse my floating comfort with sedation, like a haze of
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