Aubade

 - Philip Larkin

 

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

Of dying, and being dead,

Flashes afresh to hold and horrify.

The mind blanks at the glare. Not in remorse   

—The good not done, the love not given, time   

Torn off unused—nor wretchedly because   

An only life can take so long to climb

Clear of its wrong beginnings, and may never;   

But at the total emptiness for ever,

The sure extinction that we travel to

And shall be lost in always. Not to be here,   

Not to be anywhere,

And soon; nothing more terrible, nothing more true.

This is a special way of being afraid

No trick dispels. Religion used to try,

That vast moth-eaten musical brocade

Created to pretend we never die,

And specious stuff that says No rational being

Can fear a thing it will not feel, not seeing

That this is what we fear—no sight, no sound,   

No touch or taste or smell, nothing to think with,   

Nothing to love or link with,

The anaesthetic from which none come round.

And so it stays just on the edge of vision,   

A small unfocused blur, a standing chill   

That slows each impulse down to indecision.   

Most things may never happen: this one will,   

And realisation of it rages out

In furnace-fear when we are caught without   

People or drink. 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.

Slowly light strengthens, and the room takes shape.   

It stands plain as a wardrobe, what we know,   

Have always known, know that we can’t escape,   

Yet can’t accept. One side will have to go.

Meanwhile telephones crouch, getting ready to ring   

In locked-up offices, and all the uncaring

Intricate rented world begins to rouse.

The sky is white as clay, with no sun.

Work has to be done.

Postmen like doctors go from house to house.

 

 

from: Collected Poems. Copyright 2001. 

 

I Have Started To Say

- Philip Larkin

I have started to say
"A quarter of a century"
Or "thirty years back"
About my own life.

It makes me breathless
It's like falling and recovering
In huge gesturing loops
Through an empty sky.

All that's left to happen
Is some deaths (my own included).
Their order, and their manner,
Remain to be learnt.

What Are Your Reading Habits?

This Meme is from: Becca A. at I Read That Once,

 Via: Jillian at A Room of One's Own. Or is that the other way round?

I thought the poem by Phillip Larkin was appropriate also. 

Well . . . sort of . . . Alright, maybe not. . . . But so . . .

Do you snack while you read? If so, favourite reading snack: Sometimes I do. It depends on whether there is anything handy. Unfortunately, if nibbles are handy I will eat them, sometimes without noticing. You know, like eating a whole bag of miniature peanut butter cups like popcorn.

What is your favourite drink while reading? I have two. Tea through most of the day, and Coke Zero in the evening or if it is very hot outside. Water, you say? What's that?

Do you tend to mark your books as you read, or does the idea of writing in books horrify you? I make marks, write notes, questions. A book is something to interact with, build a relationship with. Many of my books are old friends, and they look like it.

How do you keep your place while reading a book? Bookmark? Dog-ears? Laying the book flat open? Usually I use a bookmark, but in an emergency I've been known to lay it open, face down on the table. It might be interesting to note that although I have a collection of beautiful and interesting bookmarks, I use a post-it note folded with the sticky side in to keep my place.

Fiction, non-fiction, or both? I read what catches my fancy. My favorite vice aside from poetry is murder mysteries but I read non-fiction when the subject matter interests me.

Are you a person who tends to read to the end of a chapter, or can you stop anywhere? Well . . . I often say, "Just a minute, I have to finish this chapter." But when the end of the chapter arrives it's like I've built up momentum and can't stop. So in reality 'end of chapter' is just a ploy for more reading time.

Are you the type of person to throw a book across the room or on the floor if the author irritates you? No. I don't throw things. I might break something I can't afford to replace. But I have been known to complain about characters or plot twists out loud. My husband thinks we have some very strange folks living in our neighborhood.(Shows how well he listens, doesn't it?)

If you come across an unfamiliar word, do you stop and look it up right away? I almost always look it up. This is what I teach my students to do. How could I not!

What are you currently reading? Copycat Killing by Sofie Kelly and A Formal Feeling Comes (poems in form by contemporary women) edited by Annie Finch.

What is the last book you bought? Pirate King by Laurie R. King.

Do you have a favourite time/place to read? Curled up with a pillow to balance my book on and a cup of tea. In truth, I read everywhere, all the time. I always have a book or my Nook Color with me (or both) and I hate waiting with nothing to do. So whenever I have down time, even a few minutes, I'm reading.

Do you prefer series books or stand alones? Series. I become invested in the characters but I finish books quickly, so a series minimizes the decompression and extends the relationship. It's like having a good friend who lives far away from you. The two of you might not get together often, but when you do it's great.

Is there a specific book or author you find yourself recommending over and over? Jonathon Kellerman is one of my favorite mystery authors. But a lot depends on what I am reading at the moment. I love a lot of poets. But honestly, some of the most fun books I've read have been by Oliver Sacks.

How do you organize your books? (by genre, title, author’s last name, etc.) Books in a series are grouped together. Everything is ordered mostly by how much I like it or how much it means to me. I have full book cases in every room and what is in each is reflective of how I use the room And when. It's very subjective and I probably couldn't explain to you why a certain book is in a certain place.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

A Study Of Reading Habits 

- Philip Larkin

When getting my nose in a book
Cured most things short of school,
It was worth ruining my eyes
To know I could still keep cool,
And deal out the old right hook
To dirty dogs twice my size.

Later, with inch-thick specs,
Evil was just my lark:
Me and my coat and fangs
Had ripping times in the dark.
The women I clubbed with sex!
I broke them up like meringues.

Don't read much now: the dude
Who lets the girl down before
The hero arrives, the chap
Who's yellow and keeps the store
Seem far too familiar. Get stewed:
Books are a load of crap.

Days

by Philip Larkin

What are days for?

Days are where we live.   

They come, they wake us   

Time and time over.

They are to be happy in:   

Where can we live but days?

Ah, solving that question

Brings the priest and the doctor   

In their long coats

Running over the fields.

from: The Whitsun Weddings.

~ ~ ~ WARNING ~ ~ ~ IF YOU ARE OF UPRIGHT, MORAL FIBRE, OR PRONE TO VAPORS SKIP THIS POST. READ NO FURTHER. ~ ~ ~ WARNING ~ ~ ~

 

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