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
- Don’t Disappear by Roberto Cocina
- We know this much by Sappho
- Half-Ballad of Waterval by Rudyard Kipling
- Виктор Гончаров – Не знаю, что делать с душою
- Михаил Лермонтов – Я не люблю тебя
- Владимир Маяковский – Типографы книги делают… (РОСТА №241)
- Robert Burns: Canst Thou Leave Me Thus, My Katie:
- Beyond the Moon by Vachel Lindsay
- Virtuous Love by Rajendra Ojha
- A Fable by William Cowper
- Heart To Heart by Rita Dove
- In Drear-Nighted December poem – John Keats poems
- Motionless Body
- Abraham Lincoln Walks at Midnight by Vachel Lindsay
- John Barleycorn: A Ballad by Robert Burns
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.