“Always too eager for the future, we
Pick up bad habits of expectancy.
Something is always approaching; every day
Till then we say,
“Watching from a bluff the tiny, clear
Sparkling armada of promises draw near.
How slow they are! And how much time they waste,
Refusing to make haste!
“Yet still they leave us holding wretched stalks
Of disappointment, for, though nothing balks
Each big approach, leaning with brasswork prinked,
Each rope distinct,
“Flagged, and the figurehead with golden tits
Arching our way, it never anchors; it's
No sooner present than it turns to past.
Right to the last
“We think each one will heave to and unload
All good into our lives, all we are owed
For waiting so devoutly and so long.
But we are wrong:
“Only one ship is seeking us, a black-
Sailed unfamiliar, towing at her back
A huge and birdless silence. In her wake
No waters breed or break.”
I love this poem for so many reasons and I love the fact that loving Philip Larkin is fashionable once again.
I'm not sure why but lately I've been listening to a lot of Scottish bands. I believe I have five loaded on my iPhone right now. Sadly, not a one prominently features the bagpipes but The Twilight Sad does have a song called "That Summer At Home I Had Become The Invisible Boy" which is definitely in the running for coolest song title ever.
You ever waved at somebody because they were waving at you only to discover they were waving at someone behind you? It happened to me and it was pretty awkward but I made a perfect ten-point recovery by hanging my head when he walked by and muttering, "I swear I have friends somewhere else. My mom likes me."
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I liked that song a lot til I listened to the lyrics closely. Try not to do that.
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