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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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New times New images The inner life, consciousness without communication, lived experience alone, the cornerstone The inner life is like a railway station Sometimes busy sometimes quiet Usually...
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High Summer   When wandering in the woods or in the trees Or in the fields or streets or alleyways Or paths or parks and wondering becomes when? I'd be happy to go at anytime that's my time. In the heat of day or dead...
1 1211

The Palace of Art Inside the rented room of refuge from Awaiting loss and loneliness the cracks Upon the walls and window panes are maps Of how they will fulfill their journey home.   As panic beats upon the doors and floors In incantations of strange poetry Until...
0 1081

Creation My heart is beaten by the drum of rain Upon the window pane the beating of My cares upon my brain O let them sleep And let me lead a simple life and plain And suddenly it all make sense again The sixth...
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The Natural Law of Love   The need that only the human person can meet Is given flesh by meeting someone new, But like the dream of morning nearly forgotten, All that remains at noon is the feeling: The taste of hope reawakening, Like...
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Wildflowers  The wasteland where the wildflowers blow And desert souls receive the gifts of grace Not planned, planted, ploughed nor harvested By human hands they grow and show your face.   I thank my father for you every day Who gave me everything there is to give You...
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The Empire   I have to destroy an entire empire in me, To breach the ramparts of the living hell, To storm the citadel, take on the legions Of the dead, attacking day and night, With only faith to keep me in the fight.   I have destroyed...
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The only thing that's perfect in this world    The only thing that's perfect in this world Is love, shower your mercies down on us.   Only to the truly vulnerable And sensitive one does the muse come. Only to those...
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Hang me on a tree Lift me up on high Exalt me in humility   Nail my hands to the tree One on each side So that my fingers bend and touch The steel that holds me up As blood flows warm like ice cream When I was...
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In Memory of Charles Baudelaire Castis cum pueris ignara puella mariti disceret unde preces, vatem ni Musa dedisset?   On dead mornings the sun congeals on buildings, The rain licks and washes the wounded streets, The sirens are singing their emergency. In the...
1 2568

Anatomy Speak then heart, beating in my breast, I lend to you my tongue, my mouth, my breath. The rain began to fall upon my head; Grieving for someone who was not dead, but Alive, grieving for their life, their presence, Not...
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Dionysius   As form contains the meaning of the work So heaven is revealed in liturgy The inward grace in sacramental sign The mystery of being uncovering   Ineluctable trinitarian light The beatific vision happiness The love that moves the sun and other stars Our brother sun and sister moon...
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The Glory of the Word (Hans Urs Von Balthasar)   I didn't even want to love her but However much we might deny the truth True love is loving the person next to us. Cast out the paralytic demon fear As dawn light breaks upon the darkened...
2 2542

The Pressing   I have preserved the flowers that you gave In lines of verse as precious as the day On which you gave them now they are dry as The ink on paper thin on which they lay These words will last as we and...