This Be The Verse

[Persephone]

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 (1974)


I love Philip Larkin, the happy sumbitch that he was. :-*

[Persephone]

This is poem by Larkin only recently published, nearly 18 years after his death. It was, I guess, sent by him to his lover who has decided now to release it. The bitch.


We met at the end of the party
When all the drinks were dead
And all the glasses dirty:
'Have this that's left', you said.
We walked through the last of summer,
When shadows reached long and blue
Across days that were growing shorter:
You said: 'There's autumn too'.
Always for you what's finished
Is nothing, and what survives
Cancels the failed, the famished,
As if we had fresh lives
From that night on, and just living
Could make me unaware
Of June, and the guests arriving,
And I not there.

[ilovelucy]

What happened to Larkin--I mean how did he die?

just curious....

[Persephone]

He had cancer.

[ilovelucy]

oh, I vaguely remember now....

I also like his no nonsense, rather cheeky ironic wit.....

good choice!

[Satan]

Now this is some cool shit. 8)

[Persephone]

Now this is some cool shit. 8)



This is what I thought of when I thought "what poem would Sky like?" :-*