Something of glass about her, of dead water, Chills and holds us, Far more fatal than painted flesh or the lodestone of live hair, This despair of crystal brilliance.
In my own prejudice .. I would have of a poet...whose worlds would not be too esoteric..fond of talking....capable of pity and laughter..appreciative of womem..involved in personal relationships...susceptible to physical impressions'Louis Macneice
I am not yet born; O hear me.Let not the bloodsucking bat or the rat or the stoat or the clubfooted ghoul come near me.Louis Macneice
I am not yet born; forgive meFor the sins that in me the world shall commit, my wordsWhen they speak me, my thoughts when they think me,My treason engendered by traitors beyond me,My life when they murder by means of myHands, my death when they live me.Louis Macneice
O early one morning I walked out like Agag,Early one morning to walk through the fireDodging the pythons that leaked on the pavementsWith tinkle of glasses and tangle of wire.Louis Macneice
Politics: distrust all parties but consider capitalism must go.Louis Macneice
It’s no go the Yogi-Man, it’s no go Blavatsky,All we want is a bank balance and a bit of skirt in a taxi.Louis Macneice
Some on commission, some for the love of learning,Some because they have nothing better to doOr because they hope these walls of books will deadenThe drumming of the demon in their ears.Louis Macneice