Home is so sad. It stays as it was left,
Shaped in the comfort of the last to go
As if to win them back. Instead, bereft
Of anyone to please, it withers so,
Having no heart to put aside the theft.
And turn again to what it started as,
A joyous shot at how things ought to be,
Long fallen wide. You can see how it was:
Look at the pictures and the cutlery.
The music in the piano stool. That vase.
End of the poem
15 random poems
- Jerusalem by Yehuda Amichai
- O Living Always—Always Dying. by Walt Whitman
- Inscription on a Grotto, the Work of Nine Ladies. poem – Alexander Pope poems | Poetry Monster
- The Discovery of the Kama Sutra by Raj Arumugam
- Climbing poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Elegy on the Death of Robert Ruisseaux by Robert Burns
- Владимир Луговской – Мертвый хватает живого
- Smoke by Théophile Gautier
- Владимир Набоков – Путь
- Николай Заболоцкий – На лестницах
- Gadara, A.D. 31 by John Oxenham
- Sonnet 137: Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes by William Shakespeare
- Ольга Седакова – Прощание
- Maktoob
- Sound and Spirit by Oladele Hussein
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.