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Thread: Everyone else's less wonderful poetry thread

  1. #31
    Join Date
    Apr 2008


    It's a very negative view of memory and of the psyche - no poem is a manifesto, however.

  2. #32
    Join Date
    Apr 2006


    Larkin modulates in and out of the ceremonial - it's there for most of the "heightened" moments of his verse, but counterbalanced by a deliberate prosaicness and occasional coarse outbursts. Sometimes he lands the most devastating lines without ceremonial dressing though: "The sky is white as clay, with no sun. / Work has to be done. / Postmen like doctors go from house to house". (I suppose you could argue that "plain" English would say "postmen go from house to house, like doctors")

  3. #33
    Join Date
    Oct 2004


    Quote Originally Posted by poetix View Post
    Fuck it, I'm just using this thread to post my own poems now.

    Forgive me if I go astray, or do not.
    So much of each bright day is sunk in dreaming,
    mazy distraction fractally unspooling,
    attention splintering against attrition,
    you long for boozy rosiness to blossom
    or yoga session leave you luminously

    The yogi is unclean beneath his robes.
    The roses are advanced in fermentation.
    You picture headspace as a loft apartment,
    well-sunned, from which the cleaners have departed
    leaving a scent of lavender, a sheen
    on every surface, tranquilly awaiting
    yuppie tenants.

    Not this arrears- and rodent-ridden bolthole
    where fugitive and half-deranged you quiver
    or, worse, are quite at home, in sloven's Eden
    which no loss ever ransacked, the heaped papers
    aspiring to the ceiling, the floor a lava
    of cast-off underthings, even the very
    walls perspiring.

    The psyche, it is said, is unforgetting,
    a chiselled ledger, or a swizzled swirl
    of mingled waters, of which each drop drawn
    contains all others potently diluted,
    non-lethal cocktail from which clarity
    is not forthcoming, even at the point of
    I was saying to corpse on the Penman/Prince thread I assumed you took the opening line from 1999 (quoted in the Penman essay) cos I was intending to steal it too and use it as a launchpad. The identity between mind and room is interesting to me.

    "the door to the teenage bedroom is always closed as it is the first space we learn to expand into. within those limits we extend consciousness beyond the skull walls. it is a training programme."

    Know what I mean? It's also the basis for all that 'the magic of tidying up' stuff, and the JP tidy your room instruction. There is a shared identity there. It's not just metaphor.

  4. #34
    Join Date
    Apr 2006


    Absolutely - I read the Penman piece, saw that line, straightaway went "I'm having that!"!

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  6. #35
    Join Date
    Apr 2006


    Hill, from Funeral Music:

    Averroes, old heathen,
    If only you had been right, if Intellect
    Itself were absolute law, sufficient grace,
    Our lives could be a myth of captivity
    Which we might enter: an unpeopled region
    Of ever new-fallen snow, a palace blazing
    With perpetual silence as with torches.

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