David Thorne
LightNews LightNews
banner
darthorne.bsky.social
David Thorne
@darthorne.bsky.social
30 followers 50 following 67 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.
Posts Replies Media Videos
darthorne.bsky.social
@ignorantfairy.bsky.social
#FaeSense #toll

Thank you for this prompt, I had to go fairytale for Fae Sense
With art by @jenthorne.bsky.social

Poem in Alt text.
The Gospel of J.P. Goblin Construction It is, I think, you will agree, a fact well known to you and me, our bridges suffer wear and tear, and thus, small recompense is fair. To this end, we demand a toll, and so sequester there a troll. They are, you see, inclined to squat, for theirs is not a happy lot. The world sees naught but giant eyes, and noses of excessive size; in crowded places, sad to say, they’re treated in an ugly way. So, 'neath our trestles they may go, with just a little quid pro quo. For well we know a creature's worth is not a fluke of luck or birth; No mortal born begins with sin. Thus is the tenet of J.P. Goblin.
December 23, 2025 at 5:16 PM
Reposted by David Thorne
ignorantfairy.bsky.social
Bless Your Heart

Poem in #alt-text

#emoetry patronised #freeverse
#poetrycommunity
bless your heart words like venom veiled with sugar syrup dripping liquid daggers of course you meant well patting my head poor thing I am leaving me quiet and patronised for a second until I bounce back fake blessings returned to sender bless your own heart instead if you can actually find it matthias geh
December 22, 2025 at 6:41 PM
darthorne.bsky.social
@blueskypoetry.bsky.social #poetryprompts #hanginglights
The Light Hangs Low It swung back and forth like a pendulum, its cord too long. The electrician wanted to leave as quickly as he could. You had bought a job lot of coloured bulbs, a different colour for each room. It was clearly a bad idea, but I was seven, I didn’t know how to tell you yet. When you realised, you pulled them down. We lit candles for a week until the council sent someone. You were in crisis by then. I didn’t know. I didn’t have the words. I just knew the fun, spontaneous mum came at a cost. I had my bag packed when the police woke me at 3 a.m. You were wrapped in blankets as they loaded you into the ambulance, the neighbours watching on. You smelt like whisky and blood. I could wait in the station until they found somewhere for me.
December 23, 2025 at 5:07 PM
darthorne.bsky.social
@wipsnips.bsky.social #stone #poetryprompt
Heart of Stone Moss grows on my heart of stone. It was barren, hostile, unmoving, but you found a way to cultivate life somewhere I never thought anyone could. You never asked the stone to break, never asked it to be more than it was. You simply saw it as a foundation on which you built a better world.
December 23, 2025 at 5:05 PM
darthorne.bsky.social
@ourpoetryx.bsky.social #poetryprompt #Reavealed
The Reveal We had waited three months. Too much could go wrong. We didn’t know if it was real. Then we saw him, for the first time. We could hold him in our hand, show him to the world, say his name aloud. The response was mixed. Trepidation. Concern. There were more questions than celebrations. Except your auntie. Nothing but joy there. We left that day and agreed that was the right response. Fuck everyone else.
December 23, 2025 at 5:04 PM
darthorne.bsky.social
@annemorrigan.bsky.social #haikufeels #carol

We will open doors
Hear the carols of children
And pay them to leave
December 23, 2025 at 1:21 PM
Reposted by David Thorne
jenthorne.bsky.social
I wish I could write with the economy and savage clarity of Charles Bukowski, but here is my uneconomical offering anyway.

#poetryprompt #MPPrompt
@malformed-poetry.bsky.social
Until the Lie Becomes True Strobe‑lights fracture the dark of a sweaty, smoke‑choked hole. Guitars scream as bodies pulse in the heat, desperate for friction, for action. He brushes against her back as he passes, makes drunken propositions. Not romance, not fate, but a dare from his mate and the promise of free beer. A stupid game on a night to be stupid. He rests a clammy hand on her shoulder and she doesn’t flinch. She hasn’t felt anything in months and even this cheap spark is better than the numbness eating her alive. Two flashing silhouettes moving toward each other at car-crash speed. Until the bass drops a metallic heartbeat and they collide in heat and hunger. Two strangers drowning in each other. One cheap hotel room with sheets that smell like bleach. No pretence of romance or future, just truth for a few borrowed hours. And somewhere between the sweat, breathless laughter, and bruised kisses, they convinced themselves that lust was love. This was destiny. Not just two lonely people grasping at anything th. at felt like connection. But the lie had teeth. It bit deep and stayed long after the neon died and the world sobered. It grew roots and became truth. Because sometimes you have to believe the story told in the dark.
December 23, 2025 at 1:33 AM
Reposted by David Thorne
jenthorne.bsky.social
#BlueSkyPoetry #BSPP48 #poetry #poetryCommunity #December
The Cutting The mistletoe coils along apple boughs, pale fingers threading through years, kisses folded into the bark, woven through the knots, a quiet trespass yet a faithful guest. Each winter someone climbs to cut it free. The doorway waits. The ritual repeats, a circle broken only to be hung. My father’s hands once steadied the branch, his breath a cloud, his pause a kind of prayer. Later my husband’s laughter filled the frost, the same sharp twist, the same small pride of place, as though the act could tether time, and keep the apple from its fall. Now my son lifts the knife, his voice bright against the brittle air, his shadow stretching longer than the day. And time leans on the faithful tree, its bark a map of seasons, scars, and rain. The mistletoe twists, we cut once again, and bless the doorway with its green.
December 23, 2025 at 9:07 AM
darthorne.bsky.social
@ourpoetryx.bsky.social #logic #poetryprompt

Alt title 'confessions of an egomaniac'.
Dave Logic They call it “Dave Logic,” my tendency to think outside the box. I was always told that was an asset, but it turns out they want you to think in the slightly bigger box, with all the bubble wrap. “Your problem is, you always think you’re right.” Which begs the question: do they think they’re wrong, but do it anyway? And I’m the crazy one? Being right all the time is easy. All you have to do is change your point of view when you find out you’re wrong. That way, wrongness is only past tense. Besides – and this is the important bit – I introduce myself as David every time. And if you can’t get my name right, why should I listen to you?
December 22, 2025 at 11:32 AM
darthorne.bsky.social
@annemorrigan.bsky.social #haikufeels #threshold #poetryprompts

The doorway effect
Threshold takes my thoughts away
Why am I here now
December 22, 2025 at 11:29 AM
darthorne.bsky.social
@blueskypoetry.bsky.social #twinklingsmiles #poetryprompts

Twinkle, twinkle, little child,
sitting there, so meek and mild.
Until you smile within your cot,
and I wonder what you plot.
December 22, 2025 at 11:21 AM
darthorne.bsky.social
@wipsnips.bsky.social #Angel #Angle #dyslexicpoet

Angel v Angle
Heavenly but then obtuse
Dyslexia pain
December 22, 2025 at 10:24 AM
Reposted by David Thorne
jenthorne.bsky.social
@inkmine.bsky.social
#prompts #freeze #tanka
#InkMine

Ready for a stroll
I open the door and freeze
Winter laughs at me
Back I dash for scarf and gloves
Dignity left in the hall.
December 21, 2025 at 1:12 PM
Reposted by David Thorne
jenthorne.bsky.social
I drew this little fella some time ago and have been working on a poem about him for a while, but today's #WildWalkPrompt from @sonnetsmith.bsky.social gave me the motivation to finish it, and I'm quite pleased with how it bobs along!

#Robin
#prompt #blueskypoets
#artwork #illustration #charcoal
A charcoal sketch of a robin above the following poem: My Little Allotment Robin He bobs along the bean rows with a bright and bossy air, a tiny red‑breasted foreman inspecting everywhere. He watches every spade‑stroke, each crumble of the ground, waiting for the wriggly treasures that he knows are all around. But when I pause my digging and take a moment's rest, he bobs his tail in temper, and chirps a brave protest. So I break my sandwich gently, offer crumbs instead of soil; he takes them with a side‑eye suspicious of the tin foil. Still, he hops a little closer, soft feathers puffed with pride. My fussy little shadow on the allotment by my side.
December 22, 2025 at 1:34 AM
darthorne.bsky.social
@annemorrigan.bsky.social #winter #haikufeels

All things must winter
All things must lay down to rest
So new life may rise
December 21, 2025 at 1:38 PM
Reposted by David Thorne
jenthorne.bsky.social
I am so happy and also very honoured to be featured alongside two such accomplished poets.

It makes it all the more special that it's happening the anniversary of the event (happy birthday to my son).

#poetry #poetrycommunity #solstice
December 21, 2025 at 12:16 PM
darthorne.bsky.social
@paintbuywords.bsky.social #Fight

I am often asked
If I will join the fight
When A.I. rises

But I have been
Raging against machines
Since windows 95
December 21, 2025 at 10:44 AM
darthorne.bsky.social
@ourpoetryx.bsky.social @blueskypoetry.bsky.social
@wipsnips.bsky.social

Busy day today, so I'm mixing my chocolate and peanut butter.

#silver #sparkedmemory #epiphany
Unwanted In a draw full of junk I find the silver pendant you brought me On the day I fell in love with you. I realise in that moment It is old and tarnished And I don’t want it anymore.
December 21, 2025 at 10:11 AM
darthorne.bsky.social
@paintbuywords.bsky.social #VSS365 #Humble
An Unknown Man Saint-Rémy sun warms the cold and lonely room; it found him painting before it crested the rotting sill. He walked among the flowers. The people bustle past. They do not know him. He will live unseen, unknown. Rake-thin, food is cheap, but he needs paint and canvas more. Absinthe dulled the hunger pain, but colour was his addiction. He knew, deep in his weakening bones, that the world would know him. But the humble man never saw his name in lights.
December 20, 2025 at 2:51 PM
Reposted by David Thorne
hool415.bsky.social
Hullo #vss365 and to #humble
Humble I’m still humbled by your halving of the wedding bouquet the very next day, and me then driving us to both your grandmothers: each lying miles apart in their warm and shallow graves. This undiminished atom-splitting love felt by me, even before our honeymoon’s actual start.
December 20, 2025 at 8:53 AM
darthorne.bsky.social
@artbyseranya.bsky.social #RetroArtPrompts #Queen

My jumper Queen
My Queen She is a queen somewhere, out there in the infinite, ever-expanding multiverse of probability. But even a queen would pale compared to what I see: the bejumpered, bespectacled beauty of my dreams.
December 20, 2025 at 2:38 PM
Reposted by David Thorne
rayhourigan.bsky.social
I see their faces,
The infinite multi-verse,
Dreams for the sleepers.
#RetroArtPrompt #haiku #senryu #poem #writing #writingcommunity
@artbyseranya.bsky.social
artbyseranya.bsky.social Nya 🧿 🇨🇦 @artbyseranya.bsky.social · 3d
#RetroArtPrompt Week 21
Will be short to close 2025😅

This is the #prompt for December 20 2025

Here is my #drawing of Queen #Nefertiti for inspiration. Use the following words in a #poem or #story :
I See ____
The Infinite ____
Dreams ___

©️ #ArtBySeranya #SeranyaArt 🦄
Ancient Egyptian Queen Nefertiti Drawing by Seranya December 20 2025 - Drawing in color pencils of the profile of Queen Nefertiti bust With a collage of large white typed letters on black background that say “ ALL EYES ON HER “ —- —- —- Launching a new approach to this #prompt based on my new project #TheProfiles #WIP
December 20, 2025 at 5:52 AM
darthorne.bsky.social
When did it become so easy to let life simply happen? To pick a basic avatar and take on the world as a human fighter - #Default

#WriteSky #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity #WIPSnips @wipsnips.bsky.social
Default Mode If you struggle to understand why humans do the things they do, know it is proven that nearly fifty percent would electrocute themselves rather than do nothing for fifteen minutes. We fill the world with pain to drown out the silence.
December 20, 2025 at 12:19 PM
Reposted by David Thorne
jenthorne.bsky.social
I hate haiku
I'm a black country girlie
My vowels too strong

It's impossible
To count each syllable right
With this damn accent

#haiku
#poetry
December 20, 2025 at 12:04 PM
darthorne.bsky.social
@blueskypoetry.bsky.social

#BlueSkyPoetry

#poetry #poetrycommunity #icybreath
Night Shift Smoke rolls in soft swirls, Silver-lined with bitter frost. Silence fills the air. Streets are thick with darkness. Snow offers a kiss to the patient. Standing there, I am master of this world. Samadhi on smoko. Serenity.
December 20, 2025 at 12:06 PM