Appreciate that, Scott!ππ
Posts by Dean Norton
As someone deeply involved in high school band programs with a deep bond with a band director and friend, this has special resonance. The loss of youth, a caring soul, and his kind of genius was staggering I feel sure. Thank you for sharing it, John.β€οΈπ
Well fresh off the reading and before I had come to your backstory, I was about to say what a mic drop response to the challenge this was. Its a beautiful piece wrought with real care. Then, having seen your comment and the article, the *gravity* of this really deepened.
With apologies for the late offering for #promptcombo #visions
Thank you @rfsmith.bsky.social. Sneaking one in before your wonderful prompt rolls. I wrote this one a couple weeks ago and as far as I can tell haven't shared it, but sometimes I forget to track. Apologies if this is a re-post.
I can imagine this set to a chorale. A madrigal indeed. Beautiful. ππ
Sounds like an opportunity. Go get after it.π
Another that emerged from #gravity for #PoemsAbout
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iβve been writing you a letter about fail safes, about risks and appraisals, about the neighborβs dog sometimes it begins with a moment of vindication that relieves nothing sometimes it doesnβt sometimes i write about the cold airβ how it feels like gravity the weight of things that have consequence in the lungs how it reminds me of my refusal to retain anything i never talk about opening i donβt speak about freedom when i read it back slowly, carefully it sounds like distance masquerading as clarity there is no relief in it the dog keeps barking i keep trying to touch the ground
For this week's #PoemsAbout #Gravity, I'm thinking about the weight of things.
Thank you to the host @alanparrywriter.co.uk and @thebrokenspine.co.uk and to all of the other writers.
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Original version of this piece:
bsky.app/profile/stac...
Stace, you're so great at creating emotional inertia. The structure and pacing of your work tumbles us to the end in the best way. Another sparkler!!β¨π₯π
Thanks, JC!π
These little places they inhabit that we can glimpse... changes everything in the moment. If only the moments could last... πβ¨
Really clever creation from critique, and the final line is multidimensional. Great piece, Paul. πβ¨
Eventide As the first bud unfurls in a dew-spangled dawn and the garden tools clang in the shed, couldn't we keep our quicksilver twilights when the landscape dreamed in ochre and frost, and only moss graced the fieldstone footpath of dusk-lit quartzite? When crystalline lichen climbed the split-rail fence, the rusted wheelbarrow at rest, the last blush of autumn all but weaned from the warp and weft of these vines? Beneath our buttermilk moon and sweet-pea stars, a bristle-broom sweep of birds forages among the sepia acres and seed husks. Hidden here, in the hush of this spiced-cider earth, a pair of hearts: two cherub tomatoes, still on the vine and bright as banquet candles, solstice berries, paper lanterns β late-season fruits of a sun-steeped climate, ripening with each turning year. Beyond the velvet fringe of evergreens at the far edge of the field, always a muffled rush and purr from the freeway, travelers seeking elsewhere β and the world spinning again. Remember how we stayed still, wishing for a vernal earth?
I spent this winter experimenting with audio recordings for many of my earlier poems. It was during the last weeks & days of my dad's life. When I look back at these poems now, they seem quaint, but I'm glad I have them. They captured a time in my own life never to be repeated. Here is 'Eventide.' β€οΈ
What a cascade of images Jenevieve, and what a final culmination of yearning. πβ¨β¨
With thanks to our host @alanparrywriter.co.uk and @thebrokenspine.co.uk for #PoemsAbout #gravity
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I think even parents will recognize truth in this. Especially mothers. ππ
Oops hit send too soon. Thank you so much for the repost!ππ
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Wow, I love this treatment of the two projects. Both so aspirational and long in vision. But the title preserves the very fraughtness of human existence. They really are like dice thrown in the dark. Marvelous, David!ππ
I love the meditative sense here. "A bird crosses the sky
without becoming a sign / Light rests on the table,
unclaimed" gives us the feel of a moment stretching out. Its beautifully wrought and balanced.ππ
My gosh we inhabit some of these moments with you. The edge of stairs and edge of coping really capture a fraught and desperate experience that can feel inescapable. β€οΈβπ₯π
Form serving subject here, Sue. A sparse and spare look at the evaporation of self. β¨π
It's in the nature of humanity it seems. π
Mythic and penetrating, Jan. As unyeilding as the landscape. It brings the reader to the boundary of knowing, wondering what lies just beyond, and dare we look? π₯π₯π
πββοΈAppreciate you, Jan!
Thanks, C!ππ
possible titles there is an edge for this the body stops here between signal and this is where day forgets itself if knowing had a shoreline before the word becomes at the border of heat the pattern almost holds one thing is still itself and already becoming something else
For this week's #PoemsAbout #EdgeOfKnowing, I'm thinking about how an edge is where one thing is still itself
but already becoming something else.
Thank you to the host @alanparrywriter.co.uk and @thebrokenspine.co.uk and to all of the other writers.
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This is a great turn at the prompt, Stace. "this is where day forgets itself" was the standout until the very next line, "if knowing had a shoreline." I feel like whole poems inhabit those two spaces. π₯π
Thank you, sir!ππ«΅
Appreciate that very much!π