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Andrew Thornton-Norris

Andrew Thornton-Norris
Andrew Thornton-Norris is the author of The Spiritual History of English, described by The Times as "an enjoyable, erudite and cohesive journey through the history and philosophy of English literature in 150 pithily written pages." He is also an accomplished poet praised by such authors as David Yezzi, Fiona Sampson, Alison Brackenbury, John Powell Ward, Aidan Nichols and Roger Scruton. He has his own website at www.thornton-norris.com.
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The cupids of creation, makers of The wax of prayer, light of fallen world, Bring life into the vegetable just as The word brings life into the human world. The body is the wax, the wick the soul, The flame is the divinity of...
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When after sleeping in the day I wake And find my parents are not there I grieve The time that passes by like stars above Whose movement is the movement of the earth When at the turning of the year just like The turning of...
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In life and art today when anything goes This thin sliver of skin the surface in Which all a person's soul is living is Stripped naked like the tree in winter field On which the evil of our hearts is hung. False...
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"The interior soul does not compete Has everything it needs and is complete And leaves the world in mysterious peace. It sees beyond the ends of time and space, And hears the songs of the angelic choir, And seeks humiliation like it...
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Presences VI The demons in my head are saying I Should be someone else be somewhere else Be doing something different elsewhere Of different parents personality Physique and conversation, tastes and thoughts But you say I should be with you always Forevermore, until the...
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Presences VII  Alone with only thoughts for company, They pass onto the spiritual life And suddenly I am alone no more. The company of heaven is with me, The angels and the saints...
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Presences VIII  I heard eternity is like the world, But it has music playing all the time And never ending holiday with all The joy of being and of being alive Without the pain and suffering, but that Is only if we live the way...
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Georgic It was on oolite and on Oxford Clay That first I wept in greenwood wilderness By winding brook and sunken silver stream What first came into view was seeing not. An offering...
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Presences X Sitting in the railway carriage, peace At last, the world is passing by, the next Is coming in, to hearts that know the breath Inside, in separation from what's stuck In time, and...
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Tryptych    The trees were made for birds and shepherds to Recite the music of the turning spheres In branches alto and soprano sing By trunk below the tenor and the bass.   As lives pass by like litter in the streets The marketplace's gods and goddesses Demand their sacrifice...
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Presences IX   Rock and roll was my religion when I was a teenager until I came Into my twenties and I worshipped at The church of poetry until I wed At forty four and quit idolatry Completely seeking good and holy things Alone and living in the...
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Sound and Vision in Verse (Hopkins and Hulme)   In contemplation of the concrete particular reality the metaphysical is at its most complete, the redemption of creation through its representation and communication, the incarnation corporeal of the soul spiritual in experience conveyed.   Books on the topic of this poem...
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A sacrifice The dead walk and live in houses go To work and run and sing and recreate I am not bitter but the taste or sight Or sound of them is dark night and the Religion of the dead is poetry   Beyond words, symbols and...
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New adventures in verse (a mournless music)   The window's complaint, the evening's lament, escaping light steals into streets, a peal of scales hangs outside. There is an absence in the air, a pall, of forbearance, forgiveness, of unrepentance.   The ghost of unforgiveness haunts this place like...