delling

www.patreon.com/dellingconley

I seek to challenge the senses Cum grano salis

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  • delling 119w

    the speckled rime, the tiny bugs, the mud splatter, the planks that run the side, the glide of a curve, the punch of a hole that sealed the facade, dancing nerves to the tune of the rod, a strike on from the bottom to the top, like the moonkiss of a sun burning a pulse in the wrist of hull, the rudder

    the pass of the gutter, the slow twist and winter burn, the familiar turn, a migrants score along the wall, inward tempos, the stroke of course tattooed in the slant of a slight fall, the pitch of the rill, the roll drop by drop, nacre dulled, capitulating to gravity, the scorn that bore the lull of fleck held time

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    Dirty Water, Aegean Brime

  • delling 122w

    The political warehouse has too many label makers and not enough box cutters.

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    History repeats itself because everybody looks backwards to get a model for the future

  • delling 123w

    An argument is a sword with the handle in the middle, and two points. When you can see that sword for what it is, you're wise to step away from it.

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    Debate

  • delling 123w

    the audience surrounds the singer, an ancient flanked by fledglings that never pass beyond the concert in years, the subaqueous spiritual awakening, taking the underworld of liquid to the echo chambers, the voice coil, the fernite metals, the paper cone spider; her whispers for the cold ear

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    The Sound Of Ice

  • delling 123w

    A spigot of the clay urn slid down the rolling rampwell of the entrance to Lady Death's
    facade

    A soldier's head was smashed twice on the cleft of the front arrow head to Lady Death's temple

    :

    It is my time, it is your time! It's time to
    free the souls of those of perish in the
    wine filled rivers, of the martyrs of Baccus, those who have turned the eye away, who dissolved like salt; an offering

    It is our time! The vulnerable, the pious,
    the pure! The saved shall rise! Those that
    can see. Those that can hear. Those of
    The Word; my word, your word. All paths
    will conflate like water; an offering

    :

    Simease twins joined at the feet, the hips, the head. Like legs closed tightly fall from mouth-side down

    The waxing body. The waning body. Rise together above Thy Madre. One striking
    the east, one west

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    She Sayeth Of Wrest

  • delling 123w

    When the treetops swirl around the sun and meet as one in worship, and are blasted to scatter out to heaven in rebellion! Beauty is the curse. Damned. So much fire dancing. So many tears. The tufts of vales, the folds; the crosses born from when the Dragon of Four Heads necks lie limp over the horizon till the hand of fate slaps the bare skin of the supine belly, and the skull sparks of gnashing teeth are rising!

    The symphonic sways in a lull, always titillating, never dull! The coarse sand grains come together in spans, a sweeping velvet bed. Inifentesimal rocks, pours, where the blood meets soft bedding in angelic torch songs; the flushing of blue rivers offered as sacrament to the three feathers and their broken circle-kiss dialed toward an expanding upper liminal right of wandering mind!

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    the Lady and the Fivefold Sign

  • delling 123w

    heaven, arms extended, a sign, a symbol, a sigil, a cacoon, a wishbone broke, a stroke of affection, rejection is inevitable, parasize for the host, the gift, a comatose divinity, the feeding, the husk molted, life rewrote it, let it be for the winds, breath rescinds, for every guest of the lung there was some other kind of living, a sentient beginning for a rise and fall

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    Tode and Tissue

  • delling 124w

    Hot honeysuckle day
    A warm grave
    Weaving roses
    Rejuvenate
    Elders wait
    Strange saints
    Anticipate

    The airy tidbits pass, sprinkles of light that have fallen like seeds from the dark tree in the forest of chaos
    Nothing has been found
    Nothing has been lost

    Hot honeysuckle lips
    Melt the eyes of Taurus
    Melt the sky before us
    Hot honeysuckle lips
    Twiney climbing knit
    A puppet fit
    A lost writ
    Ripped for the wind
    Shredded
    Embedded in history
    A forgotten mystery

    The daring molt-mass of night
    That has burned the reeds of the
    Shallow seas that bore us dank fog
    Nothing has been found
    Nothing has been lost

    Hot honeysuckle butterfly wings
    Hot velvety skin
    The taste they bring
    The touch within
    Hot honeysuckle song we sing
    The right to sin
    The rites of spring
    Blooming sun blistering
    Daylight hours dwindling
    Come lady satyrn showers
    Let us feel your powers

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    Lonicera Woodbine

  • delling 125w

    keys, flowers to a wreath, leafs of a book, time blocks, locks; parting Ophelia's lips with Lizzy's cold kiss, a tongue sifting through dirt, mud mulled red wine, a sacred pine falls, the maleus pound, a cockrel pall bled all over four corners, a last squall found immortalized in an open grave, every hog gets it's Martinmas, ars poetica day, the arbiter of grief, the lies you weep, death was born to an early love, the poppy, the rue, the stroke of a verb - the last wild herb

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    Paint Unheard Above

  • delling 125w

    I cross the mirror, the mirror crosses me
    A dried mist from an empty sea
    Brine remains on my lips
    Lost from sunken ships!

    The mirror, O mirror, reflections I can't see
    Is that really? Really me?
    Once there was sweet rosehips
    The boon of drunken trips!

    Dearest mirror; I am you, you are me
    From each other we are not free
    Time wielded like a whip
    The marrs of brinkmanship!

    Sad mirror I can not nev'r ev'r flee
    Three eyes that can not see clearly
    From bottom to the tip
    There must be cracks and chips!

    Lady mirror, filmy fog, can it be
    So unclear? Is this really me?
    Or have I just lost my grip?
    No other page to flip?

    My mirror, my mirror, so cold and hoary
    The last line of the last story
    Quite a storm of a quip
    A last page I must rip!

    Mirror of my mirror, when life does bore me
    Hell's Heav'n is transitory
    Ev'ry drop that you drip
    Ev'ry slide, ev'ry slip!

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    Flames, Felled Rain, Memories