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.
End of the poem
15 random poems
- Overnight at the Riverside Tower by Tu Fu
- Robert Burns: By Allan Stream:
- Online Lover by Rainbow Reed
- One Word
- Sonnet CXXXVIII by William Shakespeare
- On Receiving Hayley’s Picture by William Cowper
- Robert Burns: On Sensibility: Fragment
- The Crescent Moon poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Addressed To Miss Macartney, Afterwards Mrs. Greville, On Reading The Prayer For Indifference by William Cowper
- After Our Likeness
- To A Young Lady Who Had Been Reproached For Taking Long Walks In The Country by William Wordsworth
- On the Religious Memory of Mrs. Catherine Thomson, my Christian Friend, Deceased Dec. 16, 1646 poem – John Milton poems
- Laodamia by William Wordsworth
- Towards Understanding, Through Poetry
- Ballade Of The Bookworm poem – Andrew Lang poems
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
Philip Arthur Larkin (1922-1985), Commander of the Order of the British Empire, a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature, Cavalier of the Order of the Companions of Honour, was an English poet, novelist, and librarian.