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Here silence stands like heat. here leaves unnoticed thicken, hidden weeds flower, neglected waters quicken, luminously-peopled air ascends; and past 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

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Here Silence Stands Like Heat. Here Leaves

Philip Larkin

Here silence stands like heat. here leaves unnoticed thicken, hidden weeds flower, neglected waters quicken, luminously-peopled air ascends; and past 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.

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<blockquote style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; border-left: 4px solid #8b5cf6; padding-left: 15px; margin: 20px 0; background: #f9f9f9; padding: 15px; border-radius: 4px; color: #333;">
    <p style="font-size: 1.2rem; font-style: italic; margin-bottom: 10px;">"here silence stands like heat. here leaves unnoticed thicken, hidden weeds flower, neglected waters quicken, luminously-peopled air ascends; and past 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."</p>
    <footer style="font-size: 1rem; font-weight: bold;">— Philip Larkin</footer>
    <p style="margin-top: 15px; font-size: 0.85rem;"><a href="https://pjdigitalmarketing.com/quote/here-silence-stands-like-heat-here-leaves-unnoticed-thicken-hidden-weeds-flower-i0ham" style="color: #8b5cf6; text-decoration: none;">View this quote on Pjdigitalmarketing.com</a></p>
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Weed Beach Distance

More From Philip Larkin

I don't like weeds! my father made me mow weeds and cut weeds when i was a kid. i've hated weeds ever since i was 12 years old. i'll never go in the weeds! i'll never gonna take you in the weeds.

I am a leader. leaders always get heat. they're always going against the grain. jimi hendrix got heat; bob marley got heat; miles davis got heat. every great artist got heat. heat means you're doing something right.

You cannot take the mild approach to the weeds in your mental garden. you have got to hate weeds enough to kill them. weeds are not something you handle; weeds are something you devastate.

A flower is not a flower. it is made only of non-flower elements - sunshine, clouds, time, space, earth, minerals, gardeners, and so on. a true flower contains the whole universe. if we return any one of these non-flower elements to its source, there will be no flower.

There is an earthly sun, which is the cause of all heat, and all who are able to see may see the sun; and those who are blind and cannot see him may feel his heat. there is an eternal sun, which is the source of all wisdom, and those whose spiritual senses have awakened to life will see that sun and be conscious of his existence; but those who have not attained spiritual consciousness may yet feel his power by an inner faculty which is called intuition.

Toward seven o'clock every morning, i leave my study and step out on the bright terrace; the sun already burns resplendent between the shadows of the fig tree, makes the low wall of coarse granite warm to the touch. here my tools lie ready and waiting, each one an intimate, an ally: the round basket for weeds: the zappetta, the small hoe with a short haft . . . there's a rake here as well, at at times a mattock and spade, or two watering cans filled with water warmed by the sun. with my basket and small hoe in hand, facing the sun, i go out for my morning walk.

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Look, i have never made a secret of the fact that i have tried marijuana... about 50,000 times.

When you go for a walk, take seeds with you, poppies, rainbow chard, rocket. plant them among the weeds in patches of wasteland. see what happens.

Now on the first day of christmas, my homeboy gave to me a sack of the krazy glue and told me to smoke it up slowly. now on the second day of christmas, my homeboy gave to me a fifth of hendog and told me to take my mind off that weed. now by the third day of christmas, my big homeboy gave to me a whole lot of everything, and it wasn't nuthin' but game to me.

So what if i'm smokin' weed onstage and doing what i gotta do? it's not me shooting nobody, stabbing nobody, killing nobody. it'sa peaceful gesture and they have to respect that and appreciate that.

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