Thoughts for a beautiful mind
  • Bio / Photography
  • Blog / Prose & Poetry
  • Author / books
  • Contact

Welcome to my Blog!

This is my daily postings page, usually prose or poetry, and I welcome comments and discussion.

The Sparrow

2/18/2015

9 Comments

 
By Tony DeLorger © 2015


A sparrow sat upon a fence,
its heart racing, in a frantic state,
its tiny being twitching, movement jolts,
sharp and antagonizing,
tiny talons fixed, unable to flee.

A feathered mind in purgatory,
fear leeching fervently into reality,
but frozen in its thoughts, paralyzed,
indecision like a viscous glue,
the sparrow a captive of its own anxiety.

It dared no look above,
each shadow the sting of apprehension,
and with its last and final will, it fell forward,
in exhalation, wings spread,
to swoop the ground below, the sanctuary of vines ahead.

Its body smooth and streamlined,
caressed by the ephemeral air,
held as if by embrace, on the warmth rising,
expectations surging,
as closer those vines became.

Then, the shadow,
two powerful talons clutched and tore,
breathless sparrow, mind gone black,
fell from flight,
still as a the darkest night, eyes vacant.

Perhaps it knew, its time,
foresaw the swift and final blow from life,
driven to rest from that shadow hawk,
fast, eloquent death, delivered,
the end of dreams.
9 Comments

Cannot Hide the Pain

2/15/2015

2 Comments

 
By Tony DeLorger © 2015

How many times must I endure,
my own sweet refrain, my beauty predilection,
the guise of all this pain,
when life beckons stark reality, regardless;
the grit of struggle an discrepant lubricant,
to the dim pleasures of superficiality,
revered often and debased by few, including myself.

Pleasures carnal can be an instrument of harm,
its razor edge a familiar bleed,
and yet love in its entirety, moves the world,
and the fullness of it, I have yet to find,
impropriety a waxing visage,
an underlying manipulation for insensible need,
the accumulating self to wholeness.

When has honesty gone,
does it even know of itself, cowering in some dark recess,
nigh used, let alone understood,
and I like any another, seek refuge in blessed intent,
nectar far more appealing than dark viscous blood,
freedom the epiphany, in chains the nightmarish tale,
all for an envisaged salvation.

I choose to wear my pain,
veiled by all I see in appeasement of it.

2 Comments

The Flock

2/5/2015

4 Comments

 
By Tony DeLorger © 2015

The sun did sting, on a summers morn,
when walk the street I did, for seasons joy,
and came across a flock of bobbing heads,
a gaggle of cooing pigeon pies,
high-stepping with amorous notes,
a mass of interchangeable nodding domes,
feathers like a bed of many colors, writhing.

Each passer by, the flock took flight,
their shadow cloaked that beating sun,
flapping feathers, escaped to lines and boughs,
their incessant chatter, ongoing,
and their mark profound before my steps,
in textured white small mounds,
sidestepped I, and passed them by, a furtive glance, goodbye.

Like a thrashing breeze they returned to ground,
cooing, prancing up and down,
like the street had come alive in rolling waves of feather frenzy,
and I, pleased for untainted clothes, no marble gifts,
journeyed on, stepping to shade
and ever looking upward,
per chance a wise friend's sharing.


4 Comments

    Author

    Tony DeLorger is a novelist and poet and has written for both HubPages and Bubblews and presents here both inspirational prose and poetry, about nature, philosophy, spirituality and the human condition.

    Archives

    February 2015
    January 2015
    December 2014

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.