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.
Just as the year is being born so it
Will too grow up and die when these harsh months
Of darkness and despair have passed and we
Let hope with gentle spring come in again.
The remedy for lack of hope is hope,
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...
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...
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.
"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...
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...
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...
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...
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...
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
the incarnation corporeal
of the soul spiritual
in experience conveyed.
Books on the topic of this poem...
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...