David Thorne
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darthorne.bsky.social
David Thorne
@darthorne.bsky.social
17 followers 38 following 38 posts
I'm a neurodivergent X-ennial. I crave validation and avoid interaction. It’s complicated.

I write things, play pretend with friends, and dispense information no one asked for.
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Reposted by David Thorne
zoomburst.substack.com
#PoemsAbout #Money
Your Money or Your Life He’s standing before me, Face much too close to mine And although he hasn’t actually uttered the words That’s the implication That’s the stark choice I pause to weigh it up Do I face his arrogant demands? Or do I face the consequences of defying him? I look him in the eye My decision is inevitable really I choose life He can stuff his stupid job I walk out of the office without a backward glance
December 19, 2025 at 8:39 AM
Reposted by David Thorne
jenthorne.bsky.social
This is one I never thought I'd share!

@sonnetsmith.bsky.social
#WildWalkPrompt #Birds
#prompt #writesky #blueskypoets
The Feeties of Tweeties I keep thinking I could be the kind of person who feeds birds from an open palm, who knows their names, who feels chosen when one lands nearby. But then the feet. Those prehistoric little grapplers, clicking on branches, curling around anything with the confidence of creatures who survived dinosaurs. I admire their wings, their impossible lightness, the way they turn air into music. Yet every time they hop toward me, I remember that beauty often arrives on claws. I watch them. I listen. I could almost love them. If only I could forget what’s holding them up.
December 19, 2025 at 12:34 AM
Reposted by David Thorne
jenthorne.bsky.social
Friday is fast becoming my favourite day. Can't wait to read everyone else's take on #PoemsAbout #Money

@thebrokenspine.co.uk
#poetry #poetrycommunity #blueskypoets
The Price to Pay    Can we get takeaway tonight? Of course. That’ll cost me an hour of nodding through meetings with people who think synergy is a personality, and ten minutes replying to emails that make me question my sanity.   The car needs petrol. Naturally. That’ll be an afternoon wrestling with code in a system that resents my existence, crashing just to make me suffer.   Mum, can I have some new trainers? Absolutely. I can cover that with two “familiarisation sessions” on software no one understands, and a project plan no one will read.   I’ve booked the cat in at the vets. Perfect. I’ve booked myself in for overtime. I'll pay the bill with a seven-hour upgrade full of bugs that I'll spend days fixing.   We need to go shopping. No problem. Let me just do three hours faking interest in a dashboard that doesn’t work, for managers who never use it.   Can we go to the cinema Friday? Sure. I'll do another round with the pointless dashboard, and finish the stack of overdue reports.   The gas bill’s arrived. Oh great. I stare at my laptop, and wonder what piece of myself I’ll have to sell just to stay warm.
December 19, 2025 at 5:20 AM
darthorne.bsky.social
@wipsnips.bsky.social

First attempt at a #WIPSnip prompt.
#WriteSky #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity #High
The Boring Man I never chased the high, the thrill, the joyride, whatever form it took. People all around me went on their adventures or swallowed them whole. They call me boring. They call me a coward. They do not see the fire. Chaos, ever clawing at its bonds, I have tamed a beast. One false step and my world will fall.
December 19, 2025 at 8:06 AM
darthorne.bsky.social
@po3try.bsky.social I have really enjoyed these prompts, thank you Mike.

#RetroArtPrompt #heartfyre @artbyseranya.bsky.social
Heartfyre Oh, what a coarse and wicked thing the fire of love can be: a gnat that crawls beneath the skin and nests where none can see. It feeds on touch and kindly words, it smoulders deep within, till you catch your own reflection with a loathsome, smitten grin. What vile and irksome hogwash this love, this hope, this joy. I won't fall into that again. That con, that ruse, that ploy.
December 19, 2025 at 8:02 AM
Reposted by David Thorne
rburrows.bsky.social
I’m afraid I’ve arrived at the last day of term without anything profound to say about money! So here is another one from the kids’ collection. Have a wonderful day. 🥳
#PoemsAbout #money @thebrokenspine.co.uk @alanparrywriter.co.uk 🥰
#poetry
December 19, 2025 at 6:47 AM
darthorne.bsky.social
First time posting on this #. I hope you like it.
#PoemsAbout #Money
@thebrokenspine.co.uk
#poetry #poetrycommunity #blueskypoets
Birthday Money On broken shoes I walked the few blocks To the local Chinese takeaway. I had been to one once, With a foster family. They asked me what I wanted. I don’t think I’d ever been asked before. I struggled to find any words. I can’t remember what I ordered. Only the sweet, salty, richness, And the warmth As we sat around the table, Them offering up their plates. Urging me to try everything. I ate like I didn’t know Where my next meal would come from While they chewed thoughtfully And smiled at my joy. It was close to perfect. So I found myself, A grubby little kid, Paying for a memory With notes folded in a birthday card. Running home, The slap of an untethered sole Echoing with each step. We ate in silence, Fast and greedy, The TV a picture Of a perfect world Out of reach. I want to tell that boy: You cannot fix broken people, Food cannot fill the void, Money cannot buy love.
December 19, 2025 at 7:54 AM
darthorne.bsky.social
With my wife doing all the Christmas shopping, it's really getting manic. 😄

@ourpoetryx.bsky.social
#OurPoetryX #poetry #accelerate
The Glacial Grindstone Life is going a mile a minute. Just last week I had a doctor’s appointment. My first draft is due in six months, And on Monday I have to go shopping. It’s about time I took a break, Found the space to relax, Somewhere cosy to put my feet up And watch the world go by.
December 19, 2025 at 7:47 AM
darthorne.bsky.social
@blueskypoetry.bsky.social

It's petrol station flowers at this point.😐

#BlueSkyPoetry #BSPP48

#poetry #poetrycommunity #candleflicker
Heaven Scent What do you get the woman who gave you everything, a life, a home, a family? The cosmos could not make recompense. What do you get the woman who taught you to love, who showed you a life worth living? No bauble could suffice. What do you get the woman who showed you a better world? Not a man among us knows, but a scented candle is a start.
December 19, 2025 at 7:43 AM
Reposted by David Thorne
jenthorne.bsky.social
#vss365 #regret
#BlueSkyRelay #precursor
#BlueSkyRelay

@blueskyrelay.bsky.social
@poetguygabe.bsky.social
On Becoming ​I was a wildfire once, feeding on bad love and bitter medicine, torching every bridge I could find. Mistaking rebellion for breath; survival dressed as motion. ​I used to fear those older selves. The girl who was all teeth and temper, the one who chose wrong doors just to hear the hinges scream. But they were precursors. Each one a necessary bruise, a dark stitch in the fabric. ​I don’t regret them. Regret is for stories that end, for fires that leave only ash. Mine didn’t. ​I am the heat that remains. Built from the missteps, tempered by the flaws, shaky ground, bound tight by roots a base for something strong to grow.
December 18, 2025 at 11:03 PM
darthorne.bsky.social
@blueskyrelay.bsky.social @poetguygabe.bsky.social

A bit of a stretch 🙂

#BlueSkyRelay #precursor
Pre-Curser This is going to be shit I won’t have any fun I should have stayed at home tonight. I didn’t want to come. I bloody hate these people. Elizabeth’s a bore. Peter should be on a list. And Martin’s just a chore. I won’t be fucking social. I’d rather be in bed. I can’t be arsed with stuff. It does me in the head. - That was really something. An awesome night, you know. We should see those friends more often. I’m glad I made you go.
December 18, 2025 at 7:31 PM
darthorne.bsky.social
@annemorrigan.bsky.social

I saw you that night
A glimmer of hope reborn
I love you for that.

#haikufeels #prompt
December 18, 2025 at 1:01 PM
Reposted by David Thorne
annemorrigan.bsky.social
sup feelsfam
today's #haikufeels #prompt is

glimmer
December 18, 2025 at 11:01 AM
Reposted by David Thorne
daveashleypoet.bsky.social
#promptcombo #dilemmas/decisions #poem #freeverse #vss365 #regrets
@hool415.bsky.social
December 18, 2025 at 9:36 AM
Reposted by David Thorne
hool415.bsky.social
Hullo @rfsmith.bsky.social @dragonslayerma.bsky.social @thewombwellrainbow.bsky.social @victoriaspires.bsky.social All welcome, tag me @hool415.bsky.social and use as well #promptcombo #dilemmas/decisions **TILL 5pm FRIDAY!!**
(NB The four-legged one is doing ok currently with some
new meds…)🤞
Dilemmas/Decisions Most I find easy: avoiding that reliably keen, slightly asthmatic, tipsy-secretary at the office party; or giving up on God, even after much knee-work on my own part and despite this once dutiful fan’s cold and lengthy stage-door loitering. I hug so often my decade-old dog, already a great retriever of chronic disease, I don’t know if this overwhelming love will ever contort enough to… some days I feel like a liberal U.S. prison governor: working breezily, trying to be ignorant of the stayed machinery forever my wretched and wholehearted responsibility.
December 14, 2025 at 9:03 PM
darthorne.bsky.social
@po3try.bsky.social

My catch up poem. I love the Nordic characters too much not to.

#RetroArtPrompt #qaqqaq #Krampus #Jólakötturinn #wassail @artbyseranya.bsky.social
Yule Hunt As Krampus went a’wassailing Around the qaqqaq, cold. He came upon jólakötturinn A wonder to behold. He tiptoed softly through the den To dodge the yule cat’s ire For he had not received a gift Of stockings or attire. But then a child in his sack Let out a mournful cry And Krampus stood before the beast As it opened up an eye. Up qaqqaq and down qinngua The festive feline chased Until at once a hut appeared The perfect hiding place. Krampus, soon, would know his fault I think you will agree, For he wandered into Grýla’s den And he’s just in time for tea.
December 18, 2025 at 11:34 AM
darthorne.bsky.social
I reserve the right to make a maudlin poem about how much I do regret stuff when I feel less chipper and Christmasy.
@paintbuywords.bsky.social

#vss365 #prompt #regret
No Re-dos My children asked the other day What do I regret? I sat them both upon my knee And told them, “Nothing yet.” I could have done things differently If I were me back then. But all my missteps led to you, So I’d do them all again.
December 18, 2025 at 10:40 AM
Reposted by David Thorne
jenthorne.bsky.social
I wish I'd had time to do poems for more of the #RetroArtPrompt list this week, there were some really good prompts and I have several half-finished attempts, but at least I've managed one!

#reflections #poetry #painting #life
@po3try.bsky.social
@artbyseranya.bsky.social
Reflection ​I paint the water as memory: a stroke of silver, a ripple that bends the truth without breaking it. ​The trick is suggestion, not precision. The softened edge, a hue leaning too far into blue, a shimmer insisting on light where the world is shadow. ​Reflections are beautiful liars. They promise fidelity yet tilt the jawline, stretch the sky, making the tree lean with a secret weight. ​I paint them wrong to be believed. The eye accepts the lie by choice; it knows that mirrors, lakes, and glass are rehearsals for the self we hope to see. ​How like living this is, rendering ourselves to others in shimmering strokes, convincing, never quite aligned. A portrait of the almost, the nearly true, the reflection that teaches us how fragile the real can be.
December 18, 2025 at 10:10 AM
darthorne.bsky.social
@po3try.bsky.social I might have to go back and do the rest. I'm liking these.

#RetroArtPrompt #reflections @artbyseranya.bsky.social
The Spit of Me They all say it. One look is all it takes. Poor sod. I hoped he’d take after her. She’s the beauty; I’m… not. I want to help him, Stop him from making my mistakes. But he’s as stubborn as me too. She says I’m not broken, But she only sees the wrapping. She doesn’t hear the broken glass within. I need to see, well, him, But I can’t. I just see the spit of me. Me, the spit of my dad. Poor sod.
December 18, 2025 at 10:18 AM
darthorne.bsky.social
When there isn't a word. Make one.

@ourpoetryx.bsky.social
#OurPoetryX #poetry #productive
nofuctivity /ˌnəʊfʌkˈtɪvɪti / noun The state or quality of being compelled by external forces to perform a task for which the individual has no enthusiasm or intrinsic motivation. Often expressed as minimal effort sustained just above the threshold of reprimand. May be measured, colloquially as output per unit of shits given. “The supervisor’s managerial style increased nofuctivity by sixty percent across all sectors.” See also: cursory output, perfunctory, dysfunctional
December 18, 2025 at 10:09 AM
darthorne.bsky.social
@blueskypoetry.bsky.social

Gifts.

#BlueSkyPoetry #BSPP48

#poetry #poetrycommunity #frayedribbon
Gifts She keeps them in the wardrobe, the gifts she meant for you. Golden, pristine wrapping, baby blue ribbons. I sometimes see her looking; she sees you opening them in a Christmas long ago, a Christmas that never was. It was a cold year, that year, the coldest I remember. There was no dinner, no songs sung, only tears cried. I have forgotten what’s in them, those gifts left that saw no tree. I ask her from time to time; she always remembers.
December 18, 2025 at 10:03 AM
Reposted by David Thorne
paintbuywords.bsky.social
#vss365 #prompt for

December 18, 2025 is #Regret

A human trait
I don’t think cats feel it
Or dogs
Maybe cows
They just stare in midair
Stuck in literal shit
Knowing they can’t even do anything to end it

If you ask me
December 18, 2025 at 8:03 AM
Reposted by David Thorne
jenthorne.bsky.social
I've been trying to get a #petrarchan to work all week, and I finally think I've done it for today's #dilemmas/decisions #promptcombo

Thanks to @hool415.bsky.social for the prompt and to @daveashleypoet.bsky.social for the form.
Stalled I freeze where familiar pavements meet, Two equal roads that circle back to home, Familiar paths lie safe when I’m alone, Yet choice itself becomes a jagged beat. My lungs revolt, each breath a broken sheet, My hands shake hard, my pulse begins to roam, The world tilts sharp; I’m caged within its dome, And silence hammers panic’s cruel repeat. Sometimes he comes, my anchor in the storm, His hand that steadies tremor in my chest, Guiding me from the corner’s rigid form. No path is worse, no path is more or less, But sameness shatters, choice becomes a storm, That traps my body in my mind’s distress.
December 17, 2025 at 10:20 PM
Reposted by David Thorne
malformed-poetry.bsky.social
Woohoo!!! My #poem “ryegrass” is available now on Sublunary Review!!

I’m really excited, this is one of my favorites from my unpublished collection.

www.sublunaryreview.com/home/ryegrass
ryegrass — Sublunary Review
A poem by Malachy Moran
www.sublunaryreview.com
December 17, 2025 at 2:57 PM
Reposted by David Thorne
madp03t.bsky.social
Something leaves,
then pulled back it is.
What was settled rises,
orders turned around.
Into older motion the body slips.
Habits step forward,
decisions thinning behind them.
Finished, it seemed,
undone it becomes.

#vss365 #poetry #prompt #Recall #5amwritersclub #writing
December 17, 2025 at 1:14 PM