Those Maudlin Days No More
Maudlin days can bury mind and flesh, and in moist hallowed ground we find a leveling, darkness like a veil
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Author: Tony DeLorger
Never to be Broken
Never wrong… One lingering touch fuels the fire, one glance my melted heart, one word my every desire, entwined, such
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It’s Going to be a Long Winter
A Long Winter… Praise the day, for it occurred without me, I chose nor rejected its rising, so no accolades
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The Burden of Insight, the Cost of Intervention
Too entangled in the movement of lives, treacherous paths in plain view, when it’s no mine to task, only the
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In Surrendering the Struggle
What burden can knowledge bring, just a change that may be painful, for we struggle to keep the known in
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Regardless of its Countenance, My Day
Darkened plumes taint my morning glimpse, of day’s begin and life’s ongoing play, yet mind within in glorious sun’s array
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The Line is Drawn
The line is drawn, the sand never to be the same, the time has come, and there’ll have to be
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Time Escapes Me, but I’ll be Famous When I’m Dead
When came that echo, that awoke time to tap me on the shoulder, and what countenance before me tests my
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The Feeding of Light and in Darkness Plight
Feeding light a choice… Light flickers, encouraged by passing thoughts, swollen to a glorious orb, then a flame almost absorbed,
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Morning Salvation…my words unwritten
Stirred in part from morning light, its warm a gentle hand of consciousness, as reality gently knocks upon my door,
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My Coma Sleeps, to Reap those Yester-Hurts
I just awoke from a fifteen hour sleep, not an everyday occurrence, yet occasionally my plight under the spell of
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Another Trip of Ill
Yet another trip… Pensive, quietly deliberating, as thoughts like vultures circle aloft, awaiting death, to feed; and what rises to
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Till the Hand of Change Prevails
At ease with the falling leaves, that autumn where life faces winter, as the warmth of sun departs in the
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As I Drift, Revelations Many
Was not the drifts of thought in breeze of mind, that held the heart so boldly, the afferent experience of
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Just a Point of Reference
Should light become the darkness and darkness become the light, what a tan I’d get while sleeping, just dreaming in
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True to His Art the Poet Speaks
The eye of the beholder sees, if within the realm of understanding, the poets purpose, his heart rendered, and that
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To Explore the Rigid Thoughts of a Journey
Unwittingly I walk to the next stop, the journey’s show but tweaked, yet missing the train, hard to explain, has
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We Can But Try
What more can a soul do but try, aspire to be better in this harsh reproach of a life, tested
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In Revelation, My Quest, My Yearning
Yearning… Silent the call of revelation, its approach in stealth, as steps like the movement of air from a butterfly
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Love’s Struggle to Freedom Find Eternity
It is you who haunt my darkest recesses, a resounding that in familiarity wakes my soul, that sweet countenance, as
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That Breath Before a Button Pushed
One Button Pushed… Albeit the lull before the storm, the pause between intent and action is an baleful void in
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My Happy Place Amid the Storm
My Happy Place … Happy Place … A blanket, a dim grey brooding cover, drawn across my hopes of blue,
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Imperfect Perhaps, Yet Striving
Striving for betterment… And who in perfection’s grace can deny the wisdom of words espoused, to better understanding, and further
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