Tony DeLorger- Author | Books & magazines
Tony DeLorger- Author
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22.01.2022 Changing Wills Tony DeLorger 2021 Treacherous clouds clamour for space, crammed in the restraint of a soon to be gloaming sky, sucked and drawn by the inhalat...ions of a dying day, that burst of orange rays a final explosion of the finite, urged cloud in dark assessment suddenly gilt-edged and cardinal to a darker progression, a grumbled play of discrepancy now paralysed by an over-stimulated sunset display, an ego-plied parade of a verbose appraisal. Those clouds intended late-day scorn, a parry of swords and sparks to light the darkening heavens, yet as if to honour the gloaming's centre stage, a flight to endings and whispered lost opportunity releases that pent up affray, and so the tempered, wayward clouds in a translucent light slip silently toward another plight, swimming in the vast ocean of time's concoction, while gilt glitter dances its path whimsically.
18.01.2022 Gormless Tokens of Non-Address Tony DeLorger 2021 Arbitrary the fleeting glimpses of truths I believe astute, yet later to be maligned for their poignant dec...eption, a ruse of my undertaking scandalously unbeknownst, my discretionary powers convolute. My flippant, dismissive door-slamming fates entangle my truth-bearing moments, and it appears providence is quite irate, as my tentative beliefs wildly flap, like gasping fish out of date. Are my eyes a particular clarity for this or that, oblique blindness for discordance, as truth like hooked bate is my senseless lure and I in gormless fate excited to procure. Perceptions waver like weather's eclectic whim, changing ever-evolving in our mind's eye brimming, and often in our indolent non-address, we see not the measure of our manifest.
17.01.2022 Sweet Forest Tony DeLorger 2021 Ambrosia sweet the fresh air emissions, profuse greens and living additions to a 'forest vale', beneath a canopy, empirically ...intertwined as a shroud of light-less meshed betrayed by the sun's ardent conjecture, seeking thresholds to breach in spotted regalia, dusting half-light spheres down to earthen capture. Redolent scents of mulch and decay gives life the rise amid death's dismay, and shoots in profound inclusion feasts upon the moist sweet fibres of transformation, nutrient-rich and buried infusions of hope, etched in every face and surface brimming with growth and intense renewal. Pallid green fronds sway to a gentle zephyr, as if dancing, trembling with the effort as they squeeze their stiff trunks to aspire the dotted rain of the sky, where portions of blue dare to poke through the thatched ceiling to this enclosed terrarium, amid the silent whisper of abundance.
15.01.2022 Moments of Connection Tony DeLorger 2021 Each leaf the churning power of light's mystique, each one a singular miraculous feat, as in profusion, they dance in... wind's delicate touch like raindrop fall in random melodies and as such, tin-roof symphonies of sharp metallic awe, resound, while earthly thuds mark beats in mud galore. Movement is electric, successions of domino reflections, as boughs creak, grasses gently hiss and sway, while clouds released, skate above in burgeoning array, an orchestrated play of subtle sound and motion tied rapturously to an omniscient baton, keeping time's eternal soul alive. Thunderous padding of a billion ants, filed long and purposeful, work in survival's favour, as burrowed niches hold youth in nurture, nested creature's chirping hunger prevail and dark-eyed souls sleep the day away until night's avail, when life and death collide with equitable balance.
14.01.2022 Rainbow Flock Tony DeLorger 2021 Parrot squawking in a cacophony, wanders from tree to tree, multi-coloured blurs as darting... birds squabble and feed, sharp-eyed amid fluttering leaves as a warm breeze gusts their talon-grasped branches, dancing in the heat of day's rendering. Husks and nut pieces fall like rain beneath this feeding frenzy, as curved hardened beaks crack open the fibrous pods of their seeking and chatter they do in high-pitched fervour, no words impart without the disorder or so it seems to the outsider, witnessing the flock's coloured attentions.
12.01.2022 Prescribed Tony DeLorger 2021 An ambivalent sun rises into a patchwork sky, strewn with white-laced plumes, cross-hatched in layered veils, nudged ... by fickle winds aloft. Crisp the morning as the season turns, frosted grasses discreetly chilled now in release, diamond orbs within the sun's attention, dissipate in silent relief. As shadows shrink in time's repositioning, the warmth overtakes the cold, and the day takes hold with an ardent splendour, like swan wings unfurling. The night drifts to amnesia, dreams but a distant tale under prying eyes, and thoughts turn to quests of day woven in a 'post-it' note telepathy. The world surges within its natural process, brimming life in both growth and ebbing tides, cycles of infinity, scribed within earthy life and posted, aspired and prescribed.
08.01.2022 Coloured Glasses Tony DeLorger 2021 What lingers gains weight, an influence pervading in the wake of time, echoed in recollection many times ... as we consider and value thoughts and experience. What colours your world is what resonates most, what lingers in a spry consciousness, always willing to empathise or reject, as we determine worth. Colours then influence, hone perspective through those glasses tinted with a decisive bias with which we formulate the world, often requiring a definitive. We are the bane of our existence, creating biases within which to prevail, to mould reality from that filtered perspective, unintentionally inhibiting ultimate truths. One's propensities is a lesson in itself, a stark look into the self, beyond the mirrored reflection we manipulate, beyond the lies, we placate in seeking our true core.
07.01.2022 Cook's Paradise Tony DeLorger 2021 Hanging pans and pots, tied bunched herbs and garlic knots attest the eclectic kitchen space, ... as spice-jar racks and canister plots the pride of bench-top places, with wooden boards and marble slabs and steely knives so honed to cut for every task and lot. Loaves of bread just baked, waft in the joy of the oven's persuasion, all crispy and light on wire racks, they cool, redolent scents that shut pleasured eyes with exquisite anticipation, cannot ridicule such afferent delight, and at a centred oaken table, so warn and marked of lifetime favours a teapot brew is steeping true, the steam in coiled elation. Illuminated by golden shards through window's break, its sheer floral curtains end defuse in the soft inclusive wake of day's afternoon sobriety, the oven stoked to maintain the warmth of this treasured cook's paradise, with a purring cat curled up by ovens feet, while dancing dust in rays oblique silence warms the heart.
06.01.2022 The Seeking Tony DeLorger 2021 Conjectures wander desert landscapes, seeking sustenance and tacts to take, forever questions of joy and ache,... florid in the hold of insight's long-held horizons, where answers sought ramble in cool appease of flustered minds in repartee, as they flail in the vacant air of resolve. Ever-burgeoning questions, recast, re-expressed in evolving ilk, as truth ambles along to find a fitting home, settle in the yearning minds of ill-equipped seekers, who in unsteady times wheel from the turbulence of indecision and blind affronts, where resolution is but a bland and indiscriminate echo. Truths are moving targets, and we in their pursuit must find their mark astutely, as we in chase of a blurred and chard target, compel their slowing amid the flames of their sacred security, always leaning to a complicit viewing, before a desperate and unwanted capture. Conjectures wander many realms, let loose like hounds of the hunt, seeking trails and past haunts within time's surreptitious keeping, to track truths so elusive, they may breach our understanding, our blunt hypothesise, to at some earth-shattering moment, be waiting for us to learn and succeed.
02.01.2022 To all you budding existentialists... Paths Well Worn Tony DeLorger 2021 The existentialist in me sees not ... the manipulative intentions of others, merely my own responses and hasty decisions that govern each path and turn from grace, each stumble and fitting malaise I undertake in my learning and causation. Once seen, truth is difficult to dismiss, and no matter the delusions we hone for our purpose, reality haunts us until we open our knowing eyes and admit the complacent sabotage we abide by in blind-acceptance of an easier path. Blame is a misnomer, a lie not understood, as we are responsible for every move we make, every parry and assault in consequence to affronts, and playing the victim is merely deflection, another ruse in a 'cause and effect' reality. The all too human cycle of victimisation is so prevalent, the drone of moaning and despair lingers like smoke from a crematorium, and often even suffering becomes a wanted state, rather than have to face the lies we tell ourselves. We are the core of our life, the centre of what ensues in reality, each obstacle a lesson to be learned, each joy an appreciation of possibility, the potential we all have within us awaiting truth and the clarity of perception.
