Posts Tagged ‘01/25’

LARKIN TRAIL POSTER 01/25

Friday, October 18th, 2013

A few nice Sun Tattoos photos I found:

LARKIN TRAIL POSTER 01/25
Sun Tattoos

Image by summonedbyfells
A poor picture for the first of the 25 posters illustrating Philip Larkin’s poetry and his life in Hull. This a single is mounted on the wall by the lounge bar of the Royal Station Hotel. The quote on the poster is from The Whitsun Weddings published in 1964.:-

Right here

Swerving east, from rich industrial shadows
And visitors all night north swerving via fields
As well thin and thistled to be called meadows,
And now and then a harsh-named halt, that shields
Workmen at dawn swerving to solitude
Of skies and scarecrows, haystacks, hares and pheasants,
And the widening river’s slow presence,
The piled gold clouds, the shining gull-marked mud,

Gathers to the surprise of a big town:
Here domes and statues, spires and cranes cluster
Beside grain-scattered streets, barge-crowded water,
And residents from raw estates, brought down
The dead straight miles by stealing flat-faced trolleys,
Push via plate-glass swing doors to their desires –
Cheap suits, red kitchen-ware, sharp shoes, iced lollies,
Electric mixers, toasters, washers, driers –

A cut-price crowd, urban however easy, dwelling
Exactly where only salesmen and relations come
Inside a terminate and fishy-smelling
Pastoral of ships up streets, the slave museum,
Tattoo-shops, consulates, grim head-scarfed wives
And out beyond its mortgaged half-built edges
Fast-shadowed wheat-fields, operating higher as hedges,
Isolate villages, where removed lives

Loneliness clarifies. Here silence stands
Like heat. Here leaves unnoticed thicken,
Hidden weeds flower, neglected waters quicken,
Luminously-peopled air ascends
And previous the poppies bluish neutral distance
Ends the land suddenly beyond a beach
Of shapes and shingle. Right here is unfenced existence:
Facing the sun, untalkative, out of reach

Philip Larkin 1922-1985

LARKIN TRAIL SIGN 25/25
Sun Tattoos

Image by summonedbyfells
No. 25 is with out doubt the most isolated of the 25 signed places exactly where Philip Larkin’s neighborhood connections have been commemorated. This 1 is within sight of the impressive Spurn Point Peir and the old lighthouses. But what a pleasant journey it is to get right here by means of the quiet plain of Holderness, passing Patrington with its St. Patrick’s Church and the sleepy villages of Skeffling and Kilnsea to reach the old rail-track bed which now makes it possible for automobile access to Spurn Head. The sign is mounted on the sea-wall by the public auto park as far as can be got on 4 wheels. And a lovley day for a walk round the headland as well. Philip Larkin’s poem describes it:

Here

Swerving east, from rich industrial shadows
And targeted traffic all evening north swerving by means of fields
Too thin and thistled to be named meadows,
And now and then a harsh-named halt, that shields
Workmen at dawn swerving to solitude
Of skies and scarecrows, haystacks, hares and pheasants,
And the widening river’s slow presence,
The piled gold clouds, the shining gull-marked mud,

Gathers to the surprise of a large town:
Right here domes and statues, spires and cranes cluster
Beside grain-scattered streets, barge-crowded water,
And residents from raw estates, brought down
The dead straight miles by stealing flat-faced trolleys,
Push by way of plate-glass swing doors to their desires –
Inexpensive suits, red kitchen-ware, sharp shoes, iced lollies,
Electric mixers, toasters, washers, driers –

A reduce-cost crowd, urban yet straightforward, dwelling
Exactly where only salesmen and relations come
Inside a terminate and fishy-smelling
Pastoral of ships up streets, the slave museum,
Tattoo-shops, consulates, grim head-scarfed wives
And out beyond its mortgaged half-constructed edges
Quickly-shadowed wheat-fields, operating higher as hedges,
Isolate villages, where removed lives

Loneliness clarifies. Right here silence stands
Like heat. Right here leaves unnoticed thicken,
Hidden weeds flower, neglected waters quicken,
Luminously-peopled air ascends
And previous the poppies bluish neutral distance
Ends the land suddenly beyond a beach
Of shapes and shingle. Here is unfenced existence:
Facing the sun, untalkative, out of reach.

Philip Larkin 1922 – 1985.

LARKIN TRAIL POSTER 22/25
Sun Tattoos

Image by summonedbyfells
This poster is sited on the wall of the Blacktoft Commuinty Hall adjacent to the parish church. I found it fairly hard to navigate my way right here although had a lovely day to drive round the quiet lanes in the fine autumn weather. The low-lying nature of the landscape reminded me quite a lot of the fenlands of Cambridgeshire. The poem featured here is of course:

Here

Swerving east, from wealthy industrial shadows
And visitors all evening north swerving via fields
Also thin and thistled to be called meadows,
And now and then a harsh-named halt, that shields
Workmen at dawn swerving to solitude
Of skies and scarecrows, haystacks, hares and pheasants,
And the widening river’s slow presence,
The piled gold clouds, the shining gull-marked mud,

Gathers to the surprise of a big town:
Right here domes and statues, spires and cranes cluster
Beside grain-scattered streets, barge-crowded water,
And residents from raw estates, brought down
The dead straight miles by stealing flat-faced trolleys,
Push through plate-glass swing doors to their desires –
Cheap suits, red kitchen-ware, sharp footwear, iced lollies,
Electric mixers, toasters, washers, driers –

A reduce-price tag crowd, urban but straightforward, dwelling
Where only salesmen and relations come
Within a terminate and fishy-smelling
Pastoral of ships up streets, the slave museum,
Tattoo-shops, consulates, grim head-scarfed wives
And out beyond its mortgaged half-built edges
Fast-shadowed wheat-fields, running higher as hedges,
Isolate villages, where removed lives

Loneliness clarifies. Here silence stands
Like heat. Here leaves unnoticed thicken,
Hidden weeds flower, neglected waters quicken,
Luminously-peopled air ascends
And previous the poppies bluish neutral distance
Ends the land all of a sudden beyond a beach
Of shapes and shingle. Right here is unfenced existence:
Facing the sun, untalkative, out of reach.

Philip Larkin 1922-1985.

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