Steppingstone Comments

This is brilliant Mr. Hudgens - the quality is very high, been a while since I've seen ANYTHING close to this level of quality and intellectual depth, substance and sophistication. Kind of Eliot-esque in some ways but definitely modern/edge of post-modern. BTW, not a fan of Eliot's, consider ur style much better actually.

This is brilliant Mr. Hudgens - the quality is very high, been a while since I've seen ANYTHING close to this level of quality and intellectual depth, substance and sophistication. Kind of Eliot-esque in some ways but definitely modern/edge of post-modern.

FROM...Skeleton and flesh, bone and protein hold—or is it detain? —my soul. TO- - Atone me no atoning. We know the tune and as we sing it, we attain a slow, wanton, and puritan grace, grace can't contain. ~~~This poet pens literature not just a style of poem or a rhyme - -this is challenging as good literature should be. Into my fav

Metaphors attune our ears to steppingstone, as well a corner-, grind-, and millstone— all obtain and all also cartoon history, which like a piston, struck hard and often that blood-dappled town scrubbed with the acetone of American inattention. A beautiful piece of poem anthropologically nostalgic.

“Often, as the preacher flailed the lectern, the free grace I couldn't sustain past lunch led to clandestine speculation. Skeleton and flesh, bone and protein hold—or is it detain? — my soul. ” My favorite lines show the contrast between mind and soul. The poet is truly a sharp observer and profound thinker.

Such a remarkable write of Andrew Hudgins👍👍👍

I am in awe of the talent of Andrew Hudgins, He awakens a sense of history in our souls to give us a look at where mankind has been and where we are going if we do not heed the warnings history is liberally strewed with.- - - - Look at this monumental display of talent- - - - - - Metaphors attune our ears to steppingstone, as well a corner-, grind-, and millstone— all obtain and all also cartoon history, which like a piston, struck hard and often that blood-dappled town scrubbed with the acetone of American inattention. Atone me no atoning.

I remember the lunatic is on the grass... The lunatic is in my head... (Pink Floyd) . Excellent poem. Congratulations.

i am trying to find something in this poem... maybe when i read it second time

As we learn the ways of life. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.