Life Can Figure Out Anything, Even Ending It

Arrival Morning, a glass door, flashes  Gold names off the new city,  Whose white shelves and domes travel  The slow sky all day.  I land to stay here;  And the windows flock open  And the curtains fly out like doves  And a past dries in a wind.  Now let me lie down, under  A wide-branched indifference,  Shovel-faces like pennies  Down the back of the mind,  Find voices coined to  An argot of motor-horns,  And let the cluttered-up houses  Keep their thick lives to themselves.  For this ignorance of me  Seems a kind of innocence.  Fast enough I shall wound it:  Let me breathe till then  Its milk-aired Eden,  Till my own life impound it-  Slow-falling; grey-veil-hung; a theft,  A style of dying only.

How Distant

How distant, the departure of young men
Down valleys, or watching
The green shore past the salt-white cordage
Rising and falling.

Cattlemen, or carpenters, or keen
Simply to get away
From married villages before morning,
Melodeons play

On tiny decks past fraying cliffs of water
Or late at night
Sweet under the differently-swung stars,
When the chance sight

Of a girl doing her laundry in the steerage
Ramifies endlessly.
This is being young,
Assumption of the startled century

Like new store clothes,
The huge decisions printed out by feet
Inventing where they tread,
The random windows conjuring a street.

Love, We Must Part Now Love, we must part now: do not let it be Calamitious and bitter. In the past There has been too much moonlight and self-pity: Let us have done with it: for now at last Never has sun more boldly paced the sky, Never were hearts more eager to be free, To kick down worlds, lash forests; you and I No longer hold them; we are husks, that see The grain going forward to a different use. There is regret. Always, there is regret. But it is better that our lives unloose, As two tall ships, wind-mastered, wet with light, Break from an estuary with their courses set, And waving part, and waving drop from sight.

New News on Philip Larkin...

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-11909126






Thanks Hannah for this one, its my new painting song. And it makes me wish I had the keyboard over here.