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The Poet's Catharsis

Updated on January 17, 2013

The Poet's Catharsis

By Tony DeLorger © 2011

Poetry, like most artistic pursuits, can be a cathartic process by nature and help the poet to deal with his or her demons and the constantly evolving vision of the truth and the world in general. What arises in this self-expression is often times not at first recognised by the initiate. Creativity by process can often delve into the subconscious mind, drawing on issues sometimes not dealt with or at least consciously considered. It is therefore a personal expression offered to the reader and at the same time offered to the writer to understand.

There is no greater teacher than our own utterances, if we care to pay attention. Poetry forces attention and a time frame in which to understand what exactly has been written. So for the poet, poetry is an ongoing catharsis, revealing our deepest and darkest understandings of our life and our path. Most answers of which we seek in life are more often available within us, resting, patiently awaiting our attention. Poetry in this respect is a catalyst and therefore a worthy process of introspection. The following are some of my favourite poems. I hope you enjoy them.


By Tony DeLorger © 2011

In quest of fragrant blooms on a clear and balmy day,

I came across a withered thistle, dried and brown.

It’s prickly encrusted form all curled in and solitary,

was drenched with sadness, tainted by the harsh barren earth

that had forsaken it.

I pondered this harsh resolve, knowing that the flower by its side,

bloomed under the sun in a state of magnificence.

Was the poor thistle lost as a common plant, without the favour of

the coloured bloom?

Or perhaps it had given up in the presence of such beauty.

Was there choice or simply the sound of pages turning, new and old?

Perhaps, if God be kind, that thistle will return a sunflower,

and mock the barren earth, to thrive under the summer sun

and look down with sadness at a struggling thistle below.

Perhaps it will remember, and give thanks for life.


By Tony DeLorger © 2011

No shallower a man be,

than the depth of his understanding,

save his ego taking flight

in the world of gratification.

No deeper a man be,

than the openness of his soul to the truth,

save his ability to recognise it.

Sight is one-third anatomical,

and two-thirds speculation,

save the improbable view of reality,

afforded few but boasted often.


By Tony DeLorger © 2011

Life’s plea of faith rings loudly amidst the foibles of human endeavour.

Yet faith in the process of life eludes most, we, searching for truth

in our complex, self-obsessed esotericism.

Because simplicity has been superseded by sensory input,

we are ill-equipped to deal with the truth on its basest level.

Incapable of appreciating the petal of a flower in all of its perfection,

we choose to exacerbate our already congested minds by rationalising

and affirming priority to mortgages, credit cards and fashion.

We choose what we want instead of what we want to be,

how we should look instead of how we should behave.

It is a sad indication of what we have become,

when all still rests within the petal of a flower.

Simplicity the key.

Lost Love

By Tony DeLorger © 2011

Still the questioning of my broken heart,

and the yearning of my tainted soul,

so that pain consumes me no more.

Foregone plans and happiness dreamt,

away with you, far from memory,

and leave me peace to find.

Shall the delicate contours of your face fall from sight,

escape my longing mind and reside no more,

within my fanciful slumber.

And burn the effigy of the man I’d become,

and relent my every wish and fantasy.

Let me die a quiet death, without the pipers or eulogy,

and without the fanfare of achievement spent.

Just let me go, my forsaking love,

and bury my soul on a distant hill,

until sunrise beckons me to life.


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    • Tony DeLorger profile image

      Tony DeLorger 7 years ago from Adelaide, South Australia

      Thanks for the kind words.

    • profile image

      hubpageswriter 7 years ago

      This is fantastic. The words flow and are like music to my ears, in this case eyes since I'm reading. I have a friend who loves poems much, but lately he has told me that he has lost his sense of touch. Told him that he writes poems well and long. But his main problem isn't the fact that he can't write. He told me a secret before that his poetry was good because of his anger and rage for someone in his life. He's still undergoing therapy or some sort and I really hope he can write again for I miss his poems. Gosh, I'm sorry about the rambling. Power up, your poetry here is absolutely wonderful.

    • Tony DeLorger profile image

      Tony DeLorger 7 years ago from Adelaide, South Australia

      Glad you enjoyed it.

    • tnderhrt23 profile image

      tnderhrt23 7 years ago

      This hub resonated with me, Tony. More often than not, the words that flow from my pen are addressed to me with a message I need to hear and attend to. Writing has been my vehicle to self-discovery and healing, just as you say. Your poetry is awesome, as well. Thanks for this hub! Voted up!