Philip Larkin
Philip Larkin
Philip Arthur Larkin CH CBE FRSLwas an English poet, novelist and librarian. His first book of poetry, The North Ship, was published in 1945, followed by two novels, Jilland A Girl in Winter, and he came to prominence in 1955 with the publication of his second collection of poems, The Less Deceived, followed by The Whitsun Weddingsand High Windows. He contributed to The Daily Telegraph as its jazz critic from 1961 to 1971, articles gathered in All What Jazz: A...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth9 August 1922
reading book crap
Get stewed:Books are a load of crap.
death courage mean
Courage is no good: It means not scaring others. Being brave Lets no one off the grave. Death is no different whined at than withstood.
years aging century
I have started to say "A quarter of a century" Or "thirty years back" About my own life.
be-kind should be-careful
We should be careful / Of each other, we should be kind / While there is still time.
sex people overcoming
SEX is designed for people who like overcoming obstacles.
meals eating good-meals
A good meal can somewhat repair / The eatings of slight love
night drunk half
I work all day, and get half-drunk at night,
work benefits way
The only way to eliminate unemployment is to eliminate unemployment benefits.
photography art faithful
But O, Photography! as no art is, Faithful and disappointing!
work poison use
Why should I let the toad work Squat on my life? Can't I use my wit as a pitchfork And drive the brute off? Six days of the week it soils With its sickening poison-- Just for paying a few bills! That's out of proportion.
art suicidal thinking
Seriously, I think it is a grave fault in life that so much time is wasted in social matters, because it not only takes up time when you might be doing individual private things, but it prevents you storing up the psychic energy that can then be released to create art or whatever it is. It's terrible the way we scotch silence & solitude at every turn, quite suicidal. I can't see how to avoid it, without being very rich or very unpopular, & it does worry me, for time is slipping by , and nothing is done. It isn't as if anything was gained by this social frivolity, It isn't: it's just a waste.
ideas feelings desire
The poetic impulse is distinct from ideas about things or feelings about things, though it may use these. It's more like a desire to separate a piece of one's experience & set it up on its own, an isolated object never to trouble you again, at least not for a bit. In the absence of this impulse nothing stirs.
feels incompetent new-places
To start at a new place is always to feel incompetent & unwanted
different
Death is no different whined at than withstood.