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Ash 99
Ash 99
Ash 99
Ebook78 pages36 minutes

Ash 99

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"ash 99" is a collection of poems and short essays that explores a modern relationship from a personal and unique perspective, and the ways in which we discover the true beauty in what we experience as love. Ranging from contemplative, stream-of-consciousness poetry to light-hearted discourse to profound cosmic metaphor, love is explored as a thing to be desired, feared, respected, and ultimately a thing beyond comprehension.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateJul 31, 2012
ISBN9781477240335
Ash 99
Author

Daniel Luke Nunley

Daniel Luke Nunley is an accomplished poet, videographer, and musician. His work is known for it's deep introspection, unique use of metaphor, and non-traditional structure. He is currently pursuing opportunities in ministry while continuing his work in the poetry and essay fields. He resides in Ashland, Kentucky. "ash 99" is his second book of poetry.

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    Book preview

    Ash 99 - Daniel Luke Nunley

    © 2012 Daniel Luke Nunley. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    Published by AuthorHouse 7/26/2012

    ISBN: 978-1-4772-4034-2 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4772-4033-5 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2012912430

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

    and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    for alison

    Where did love begin? What human being looked at another and saw in their face the forests and the sea? Was there a day, exhausted and weary, dragging home food, arms cut and scarred, that you saw yellow flowers and, not knowing what you did, picked them because I love you?

    Jeanette Winterson

    For the first time in my life, I’m stumped. Utterly stumped. I have had writer’s block before. Many times, actually. This is something fundamentally different.

    I can write little comedy articles, blogs about my job, self-absorbed tweets…but I can’t seem to create anything of merit, anything of value for what I consider my most important (and pressing) project. It is especially frustrating because of what it is I’m supposed to be writing about, the dear importance of my subject and the high esteem in which I hold it.

    I consider myself a poor poet at most times. Oddly enough, it seems my best work is produced while I am semi-conscious. According to a few of those close enough to witness it, there are times when I spout out some improvised lines while I am asleep (often in the Old English tongue, I’m told.) Admittedly, there are times that I remember this. I have woken up before with fresh ideas and a renewed energy.

    But there is something now that prevents me from cultivating any creative energy I might have and focusing it where I am supposed to. It constantly changes, it seems, and stirs about ceaselessly, as if it is searching for something. A reprieve, perhaps. Some relief. The answer to a question too provocative to truly, deeply contemplate.

    It is uncertainty.

    The idea was simple enough. It had been done thousands of times before, throughout much of recorded history. William Shakespeare, E.E. Cummings, the biblical King Solomon…one would be hard pressed to find any popular or influential writer (or any writer, for that matter) who has not written in dedication to a love. Man or woman, young or old, out of admiration or joy, anger or grief…the things we find to difficult to say out loud have often been said with pen and

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