#EnglishWriters
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
Why did I dream of you last night… Now morning is pushing back hair w… Memories strike home, like slaps i… Raised on elbow, I stare at the p… beyond the window.
My readers... sometimes I wonder whether they really exist. Truly they arer remarkably tolerant, manifesting themselves only by the occasional query as to where they can buy records: ju...
Green-shadowed people sit, or walk… Their children finger the awakened… Calmly a cloud stands, calmly a bi… And, flashing like a dangled-looki… Sun lights the balls that bounce,…
They say eyes clear with age, As dew clarifies air To sharpen evenings, As if time put an edge Round the last shape of things
‘This was Mr Bleaney’s room. He… The whole time he was at the Bodi… They moved him.’ Flowered curtain… Fall to within five inches of the… Whose window shows a strip of buil…
The little lives of earth and form… Of finding food, and keeping warm, Are not like ours, and yet A kinship lingers nonetheless: We hanker for the homeliness
Morning, a glass door, flashes Gold names off the new city, Whose white shelves and domes trav… The slow sky all day. I land to stay here;
I have started to say “A quarter of a century” Or “thirty years back” About my own life. It makes me breathless
Like the train’s beat Swift language flutters the lips Of the Polish airgirl in the corn… The swinging and narrowing sun Lights her eyelashes, shapes
Quarterly, is it, money reproaches… ‘Why do you let me lie here wastef… I am all you never had of goods an… You could get them still by writin… So I look at others, what they do…
Those long uneven lines Standing as patiently As if they were stretched outside The Oval or Villa Park, The crowns of hats, the sun
Obedient daily dress, You cannot always keep That unfakable young surface. You must learn your lines — Anger, amusement, sleep;
Once I am sure there’s nothing go… I step inside, letting the door th… Another church: matting, seats, an… And little books; sprawlings of fl… For Sunday, brownish now; some br…
A stationary sense... as, I suppo… I shall have, till my single body… Inaccurate, tired; Then I shall start to feel the ba… Take over, sickening and masterful…