PHILIP LARKIN

PhilipLarkin

This Be The Verse

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.

 

BY PHILIP LARKIN

Not always a very nice man… but a great poet.

Dale

RABINDRANATH TAGORE

350px-Rabindranath_Tagore_in_1909

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high
Where knowledge is free
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments
By narrow domestic walls
Where words come out from the depth of truth
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way
Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit
Where the mind is led forward by thee
Into ever-widening thought and action
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake

Rabindranath Tagore

Tagore was the first asian to win a nobel prize for literature.

Well worth the accolade.

Dale

W.H.AUDEN

download

 

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone.
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead,
Put crépe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song,
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong

The stars are not wanted now, put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

 

Wystan Hugh Auden

This is a perfect elegy. I love his poetry… not so sure about the man. My problem with Auden, is that he urged young men to join up for the army in the 2nd world war, and then buggered off out of it to America for the duration. Poor form.

But he wrote some of the best poems of the 20th century.

Dale

TOO TIRED

IMG_0264

TOO TIRED

Keeping my eyes open,

Even when driving,

Is a desperate fight.

Every little thing,

Is a tangible chore,

Which sucks away

My strength.

Is it just age?

Or is it more

Malignant?

I don’t know…

Just let me sleep

On it.

Dale