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Lines On A Young Lady's Photograph Album

At last you yielded up the album, which

Once open, sent me distracted. All your ages

Matt and glossy on the thick black pages!

Too much confectionery, too rich:

I choke on such nutritious images.

My swivel eye hungers from pose to pose —

In pigtails, clutching a reluctant cat;

Or furred yourself, a sweet girl-graduate;

by Philip Larkin

Love Again

Love again: wanking at ten past three

(Surely he's taken her home by now?),

The bedroom hot as a bakery,

The drink gone dead, without showing how

To meet tomorrow, and afterwards,

And the usual pain, like dysentery.

Someone else feeling her breasts and cunt,

Someone else drowned in that lash-wide stare,

by Philip Larkin

The Explosion

On the day of the explosion

Shadows pointed towards the pithead:

In thesun the slagheap slept.

Down the lane came men in pitboots

Coughing oath-edged talk and pipe-smoke

Shouldering off the freshened silence.

One chased after rabbits; lost them;

Came back with a nest of lark's eggs;

by Philip Larkin

No Road

Since we agreed to let the road between us

Fall to disuse,

And bricked our gates up, planted trees to screen us,

And turned all time's eroding agents loose,

Silence, and space, and strangers - our neglect

Has not had much effect.

Leaves drift unswept, perhaps; grass creeps unmown;

No other change.

by Philip Larkin

Ambulances

Closed like confessionals, they thread

Loud noons of cities, giving back

None of the glances they absorb.

Light glossy grey, arms on a plaque,

They come to rest at any kerb:

All streets in time are visited.

Then children strewn on steps or road,

Or women coming from the shops

by Philip Larkin

Cut Grass

Cut grass lies frail:

Brief is the breath

Mown stalks exhale.

Long, long the death

It dies in the white hours

Of young-leafed June

With chestnut flowers,

With hedges snowlike strewn,

by Philip Larkin

Mcmxiv

Those long uneven lines

Standing as patiently

As if they were stretched outside

The Oval or Villa Park,

The crowns of hats, the sun

On moustached archaic faces

Grinning as if it were all

An August Bank Holiday lark;

by Philip Larkin

Sunny Prestatyn

Come to Sunny Prestatyn

Laughed the girl on the poster,

Kneeling up on the sand

In tautened white satin.

Behind her, a hunk of coast, a

Hotel with palms

Seemed to expand from her thighs and

Spread breast-lifting arms.

by Philip Larkin

Annus Mirabilis

Sexual intercourse began

In nineteen sixty-three

(which was rather late for me) -

Between the end of the Chatterley ban

And the Beatles' first LP.

Up to then there'd only been

A sort of bargaining,

A wrangle for the ring,

by Philip Larkin

At Grass

The eye can hardly pick them out

From the cold shade they shelter in,

Till wind distresses tail and main;

Then one crops grass, and moves about

- The other seeming to look on -

And stands anonymous again

Yet fifteen years ago, perhaps

Two dozen distances surficed

by Philip Larkin

Talking In Bed

Talking in bed ought to be easiest,

Lying together there goes back so far,

An emblem of two people being honest.

Yet more and more time passes silently.

Outside, the wind's incomplete unrest

Builds and disperses clouds in the sky,

And dark towns heap up on the horizon.

None of this cares for us. Nothing shows why

by Philip Larkin

Aubade

I work all day, and get half-drunk at night.

Waking at four to soundless dark, I stare.

In time the curtain-edges will grow light.

Till then I see what's really always there:

Unresting death, a whole day nearer now,

Making all thought impossible but how

And where and when I shall myself die.

Arid interrogation: yet the dread

by Philip Larkin