Showing posts with label philip larkin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label philip larkin. Show all posts

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Thursday Extracts: Philip Larkin. (Because Hull is officially cultured)

Friday Night At The Royal Station Hotel
by Philip Larkin

Light spreads darkly downwards from the high
Clusters of lights over empty chairs
That face each other, coloured differently.
Through open doors, the dining-room declares
A larger loneliness of knives and glass
And silence laid like carpet. A porter reads
An unsold evening paper. Hours pass,
And all the salesmen have gone back to Leeds,
Leaving full ashtrays in the Conference Room.

In shoeless corridors, the lights burn. How
Isolated, like a fort, it is -
The headed paper, made for writing home
(If home existed) letters of exile: Now
Night comes on. Waves fold behind villages.
 
*****
Don't you just love "the dining-room declares
A larger loneliness of knives and glass"
 
Hull yesterday won the title of UK City of Culture 2017.
 

Thursday, December 13, 2012

Thursday Extracts: The Days of Philip Larkin

Philip Larkin Trail Hull

Days
What are days for?
Days are where we live.
They come, they wake us
Time and time over.
They are to be happy in:
Where can we live but days?

Ah, solving that question
Brings the priest and the doctor
In their long coats
Running over the fields.

Philip Larkin
1922–1985

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Thursday extracts. Philip Larkin on parenthood. (PG rated for language)

On Monday I posted a photo of a Philip Larkin poem that's engraved on the wall of the Library in Belper. When I read that Larkin was included in the town's poetry trail my immediate thought was that they were unlikely to have used the one piece of Larkin's work that I can quote by heart.

This poem strikes a real chord with me and, as someone said a few days ago, it has "set the pattern for" my life.

Don't say you weren't warned about the rude word.

*********

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. 


Philip Larkin

Monday, August 08, 2011