Showing results by narrator "Iain Thomas" in All Categories

I Wrote This for You: Please Listen focuses on a different facet of life, love, loss, beginnings, and endings. This audio project inspired by the original book weaves the poetry into a never-before heard holistic narrative.

Toby Stephens stars in this BBC Radio 4 full-cast dramatisation of Raymond Chandler’s second Philip Marlowe mystery.Fast-talking, trouble-seeking private eye Philip Marlowe is a different kind of detective: a moral man in an amoral world. California in the ’40s and ’50s is as beautiful as a ripe fruit and rotten to the core, and Marlowe must struggle to retain his integrity amidst the corruption he encounters daily.In ‘Farewell My Lovely’, Marlowe has a chance encounter with a not-so-gentle giant outside Florian’s nightclub.

I know you don’t want to talk sometimes. Sometimes because it hurts and sometimes because you’re just not supposed to talk about what you want to talk about. Sometimes it can be hard to say, “this is beautiful,” when no one else can see what you see. Or, “Here, this is where the pain is.” But some part of you knows, the truth about the words you cannot say is that they only hurt until you say them. They only hurt until the person who needs to hear them, hears them.

In the long-awaited follow-up to his bestselling collection, The Truth of You, poet Iain Thomas explores the unseen forces that shape our inner experience. A collection of over 200 pieces of poetry and prose,The Secret of Youfocuses on the thoughts and feelings that we might not share and have...

A groundbreaking endeavor to explore human spirituality through the evolving technology of artificial...

In the third and final installment of the Souls Trilogy, acclaimed poet Iain S. Thomas explores what hope feels like after despair. Following on his bestselling collections, The Truth of You and The Secret of You, Thomas’s latest volume of over two-hundred poems examines how we find the faith...

I want you to know that I see you. I want you to know that even if no one else does, even if you are a ghost in this bookshop, or just the static floating across the screen of your computer, wherever you’re reading this, I see you. I see you in the dark and I see you in the grey. I see you as a story, as words I have spoken or may yet speak. Maybe only in a memory or a dream. I see your hands and your arms and your body and your legs and your face and I see what you have been and what you will be.