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rra3: Saved on Spotify "No Go (For Louis Macneice)" by The Cleaners From Venus

PatchLimb: ‘Quote of the Day’: a poem “Some on commission, some for the love of learning, Some because they have nothing better to do Or because they hope these walls of books will deaden The drumming of the demon in their ears.” - from ‘The British Museum Reading Room’, Louis MacNeice

grenow: How are you feeling as climate predictions come to pass? Joe Bennett on bastards and Louis MacNeice

SecretBeetle: I didn't really like the column that I discovered this poem through but the poem itself, excuse my french, absolutely slaps

ScuffleThe: Louis MacNeice might have been cautioning us (slightly cannibaiized):  Our freedom as free lances Advances towards its end;  This earth compels,  upon it cliches and curses descend; And soon, my friend,  We shall have no time for dances.

anabelish: Which line of poetry never fails to make you go ‘wow’? ‘Let them not make me a stone and let them not spill me. Otherwise kill me’ - Louis MacNeice

BenWilko85: Ted Hughes, Louis MacNeice, T. S. Eliot, W. H. Auden

PrieneV: I just made a joke that makes no sense unless you know a particular poem by Louis MacNeice and I'm OK with that as well.

OxfambooksGW: And behold: Louis MacNeice too

zarandillo: Elsa schiaparelli in 1937, wearing her own designs 'Or give me a new Muse with stockings and suspenders And a smile like a cat With false eyelashes and finger-nails of carmine And dressed by Schiaparelli, with a pill-box hat.' —Louis MacNeice, Autumn Journal, stanza XV, 1939

ambedo001: Louis MacNeice, ‘Aubade

RoryCormac: “Their ghosts are gagged, their books are library flotsam” Saturday afternoon reading strikes a bit close to home! (Elegy for Minor Poets by Louis MacNeice if you’re interested)

dedalusdenaries: Put out to sea, my broken comrades... Let every adverse force converge Here we must needs embark again. Put out to sea, ignoble comrades, Whose records shall be noble yet... By a high star our course is set Our end is life. Put out to sea. Louis MacNeice, ‘Thalassa’

jntod: Louis MacNeice's 1936 translation of Aeschylus contains some great passages of dramatic poetry

AodhBC: "And the voodoo of the Orange bands / Drawing an iron net through darkest Ulster" Louis MacNeice, 'Autumn Journal.'

johnstonglenn: Louis MacNeice introduced WR Rodgers to TS Eliot by letter OTD in 1949. Rodgers was preparing a broadcast on James Joyce for the BBC Third Programme and wanted to speak to someone "who could give due consideration to the part played by Ezra Pound in Joyce's development."

teletour: Entirely by Louis MacNeice

jntod: On the first gloomy day of July, after a rainy June, the end of Louis MacNeice's 'June Thunder' (1941)

lippice: Opening quote: Louis MacNeice, Autumn Jour all.

alicerawsthorn: Spotted on daily exercise (walking) a house where Louis Macneice once lived in Canonbury.

timothycbaker: Did everyone know the broken link page on Faber's website quotes Louis MacNeice?!

BeagonP: The grave of Louis MacNeice at Carrowdore today. Betjeman described MacNeice as 'looking like a frightened hare'. The second after I took the photo of the gravestone, a hare bolted by!

holdonhappiness: A Poem for a Thursday June Thunder by Louis MacNeice

FeetPetite: Yes. Louis MacNeice: 'The drunkeness of things being various'

orastroman: “If we could find our happiness entirely In somebody else’s arms We should not fear the spears of the spring nor the city’s Yammering fire alarms” Louis MacNeice, (from) “Entirely”

LizClements: Read Louis Macneice's (slightly sniffy) poem about teaching Classics at Birmingham University in 1930s "Virgil, Livy, the usual round, Principal parts and the lost digamma; And to hear the prison-like lecture room resound To Homer in a Dudley accent."

alabalawhiskey: "The rain of London pimples / The ebony streets with white" It's a night for Louis MacNeice

GladstoneMarian: “….. the people’s mind was tunnelling like a mole to day and danger”. Autumn journal. Louis MacNeice. “Poetry in my opinion must be honest before anything else”. 1939.

ukiyoluvbot: found the poem. its called 'prayer before birth' by Louis MacNeice. a beautiful poem.

GaryRayBetz: "The forces of fascism are massing as Nazi propaganda speaks of making Germany great again..." - Louis MacNeice from "Autumn Journal" 1939

john_fardy: Just got my first Jab.. As Louis MacNeice wrote 'God or whatever means the Good be praised'

cometothinkofi: Louis MacNeice, from "The Earth Compels"

thaliarchus: One of Louis MacNeice’s poems about the aftermath of the Second World War. Thinking about this, and the long lingering withdrawal of the pandemic.

sofianail8: fanfare for the makers by louis macneice

celan_and_sachs: Louis Macneice

simonashton: "World is crazier and more of it than we think, Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion A tangerine and spit the pips and feel The drunkenness of things being various. " from 'Snow' - Louis MacNeice

poemtoday: Victoria Chang and Louis MacNeice....

SimonGuy64: "Fetch me far the breeze in the heat, Fetch me far the curl of the wave, Fetch me far the face in the street." Invocation, Louis MacNeice

emmaswiftsings: I have very strong feelings about Louis MacNeice. Thanks to Radio National for letting me read this poem

Irogar: I love this poem by Louis MacNeice. So playful.

tomashirstecon: A little bit of Louis MacNeice to end a long day on

56blackcat: Gary Ray was one of the first anti trump people I followed on twitter. He’s a wordsmith. He’s a character. He loathed that orange b*stard. He quoted Louis MacNeice, from my neck of the woods, in his pinned tweet. I liked that. That quote, that post, still CUTS to the quick.

Ladder_To_Nower: Oh you have had your chance, It said; Left it alone and it was one. Who said a watched clock never moves? Look at it now. Your chance was I.    He turned and saw the accusing clock    Race like a torrent round a rock. — Louis MacNeice THE SLOW STARTER

lizziespeller: “If we could find our happiness entirely In somebody else’s arms We should not fear the spears of the spring nor the city’s Yammering fire alarms” Louis MacNeice | Poetry Magazine

IBATcollege: “I am at home in Dublin, more than in any other city.” - Louis MacNeice

adrianmckinty: here's an end of May beginning of June poem from Carrickfergus boy Louis MacNeice you'll notice that this is written in sapphic stanza and ends typically for such verse w longing for a lover its called June Thunder

goldmartin: Derek Mahon : In Carrowdore Churchyard (for Louis Macneice)

robinsaikia: “The Death of a Cat” by Louis MacNeice

AlexanderVelky: If I've learnt anything from Louis MacNeice it's: don't get excited about by-elections.

JamesHandscombe: I’m loving “A Time of Gifts” but my top two favourite things are 1) The title is snagged from Louis MacNeice in a poem whose title is snagged from Shakespeare 2) The author is completely obsessed with finding the coast of Bohemia to justify Shakespeare’s Winter’s Tale

johnstonglenn: OTD in 1962 Louis MacNeice wrote to his son Daniel about visiting Ireland in a fortnight: "first to Belfast where I'll stay with the MacCanns & then to Dublin where they have a great cultural gimmick on, opening Joyce's Martello tower as a museum or shrine or what-have-you."

ClerkofOxford: 'But the Happy Future is a thing of the past'. Louis MacNeice on Whit Monday in wartime London.

IrishLitTimes: Sunday Morning - Louis MacNeice

dreamingbulb: * Even the walls are flowing, even the ceiling, / Nor only in terms of physics; the pictures / Bob on each picture rail like floats on a line / While the books on the shelves keep reeling / Their titles out into space . . . — Louis MacNeice . Maria Helena Vieira da Silva

TimDee4: Next to Louis MacNeice on the Cederberg holiday cottage bookshelf. That ants have limited intelligence... A proof from 1961. Other empires have fallen (off logs etc) since but the ants seem to be still on the go...

adair_mark: ‘The first blossom was the best blossom For the child who never had seen an orchard... And when from Eden we take our way The morning after is the first day.’ Louis MacNeice - from Apple blossom

Cornishnye: London Rain – Louis MacNeice

TimDee4: Mass destruction, mass disease; We thank thee, Lord, upon our knees That we were born in times like these. Pretzels crackers chips and beer; Death is something that we fear But it titillates the ear. – from Bar Room Matins, Louis MacNeice, written NYC during WWII.

Chris_Creegan: From The Burning Perch by Louis MacNeice. Published by Faber and Faber. 1963.

adair_mark: ‘And yet beliefs are still to make... All ports have oceans in their eye And stage and quay retain their hands To raise our gangways, curtains, hopes.’ Louis MacNeice - from Sailing Orders

platospupil: May come up with fiddle-bows, May come up with blossom, May come up the same again, The same again but different. –Louis MacNeice (1907–63)

TeresaBacon20: Good Morning, Welcome To My World May come up with fiddle-bows, May come up with blossom, May come up the same again, The same again but different. –Louis MacNeice (1907–63)

OccultFan: May come up with fiddle-bows, May come up with blossom, May come up the same again, The same again but different. –Louis MacNeice (1907–63)

spillaneda: 'Apple Blossom' Louis MacNeice (from 'Solstices', 1961)

EternalEnglish: New video. My reading of the poem by the Irish poet and playwright, Louis MacNeice. 'I Am That I Am' by the Irish poet and playwright, Louis MacNeice 1907 -...

cbspoet: World is crazier and more of it than we think, Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion A tangerine and spit the pips and feel The drunkenness of things being various. From 'Snow' by Louis MacNeice

Bertrom: Louis MacNeice For every static world that you or I impose Upon the real one must crack at times and new Patterns from new disorders open like a rose And old assumptions yield to new sensation …

seanonthebookb1: Put out to sea, ignoble comrades, Whose records shall be noble yet Butting through scarps of moving marble The narwhal dares us to be free By a high star our course is set Our end is life. Put out to sea. Louis MacNeice - Thalassa

TomasJMurray: (Louis MacNeice, ‘Entirely’)

fmolinapublica: Thirties Poets: W. H. Auden | Louis MacNeice | Cecil Day-Lewis | Stephen Spender (Buenos Aires Poetry, 2021)

YvonneF50177592: Snow, Louis MacNeice

adair_mark: ‘But neither the first nor last page tells the story...’ Louis MacNeice - from Day of renewal

ShewinFan: Nice spread in the May, 1950 'British Book News': Edith Sitwell, Herbert Read, Robert Graves, and Edwin Muir; Louis MacNeice, Kathleen Raine, Laurie Lee, and Lawrence Durrell:

sideshow_val: I’ve read 18 books so far this year and only really loved one of them (Louis MacNeice’s Autumn Journal), so I broke my ban on buying more books and am hoping one of these changes my luck.

rmkf: louis macneice

emmaswiftsings: “World is crazier and more of it than we think...” - Louis MacNeice

10ieMB: Some of my kids asking why poems/poetry, especially learning about the poetic devices like metaphor, simile, onomatopoeia etc. are important. What would your answer be? Also name one of your favourite poems. Mine is Prayer Before Birth - Louis MacNeice.

pomulholland: Louis MacNeice, criminally underrated I'd say: In Belfast in the York Street district; And the voodoo of the Orange bands Drawing an iron net through darkest Ulster, Flailing the limbo lands — The linen mills, the long wet grass, the ragged hawthorn Autumn Journal, 1939 (1/3)

raywilcockson: "World is crazier and more of it than we think, Incorrigibly plural." Louis MacNeice's poem, "Snow", celebrates (as I do): "The drunkenness of things being various". People too. And children. I tried to honour this welcome way of the world when teaching.

plastic_bio: 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

MuskanJ00789498: Forgive me for the sins that shall be committed ~ Louis MacNeice

foreverheady: The sunlight on the garden Hardens and grows cold, We cannot cage the minute Within its nets of gold; When all is told We cannot beg for pardon. Louis MacNeice

lizziespeller: "Spawning snow and pink roses against it Soundlessly collateral and incompatible: World is suddener than we fancy it." "Snow" by Louis MacNeice

wikeleyj31: 'If we could get the hang of it entirely It would take too long; All we know is the splash of words in passing And falling twigs of song [...]' Louis MacNeice - 'Entirely'

gumi_checo: The Cleaners From Venus - No Go (For Louis Macneice)

shekar_venu: April Fool by Louis MacNeice

TheOrwellPrize: Our next judge, Professor Mark Ford, is a Professor of English Literature at UCL and a prolific poet and essayist. He has recently appeared on the LRB podcast with Seamus Perry, talking about Orwell's contemporary at the BBC Louis MacNeice. Listen here:

seventydys: a data bank called sorrow Cleaners From Venus, ‘No Go (For Louis Macneice)’

octavia_reeve: World is crazier and more of it than we think, Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion A tangerine and spit the pips and feel The drunkenness of things being various. Louis MacNeice grasping at complexity through the everyday.

MatthewMCSmith: ‘The sunlight on the garden Hardens and grows cold, We cannot cage the minute Within its nets of gold, When all is told We cannot beg for pardon.’ ~ Louis MacNeice ~

MartinDoyleIT: Exquisite by Louis MacNeice

mcevoygill2: Absolutely agree! I've been reading Jane Hirschfield, Ted Kooser, Louis MacNeice and Rebecca Hubbard this week.

heliconiuscydno: Louis MacNeice wrote: “the poetry of our everyday life, of shop-windows, traffic policemen and ice-cream soda, lawn-mowers, and an uneasy awareness of what the newsboys were shouting” (Philip Larkin

heliconiuscydno: Louis MacNeice’s responded “to new potatoes in April speckled with chopped parsley or to the lights at night on the Thames of Battersea power house, or to cars sweeping their shadows from lamppost to lamppost down Haverstock Hill …”

NarangTapasya: Would someone have the poem, 'The Preacher' by Louis MacNeice?

heliconiuscydno: Louis MacNeice: "What I feel makes life worth living is not the clever scores but the surrenders"

heliconiuscydno: Louis MacNeice,, the poet of "the pleasure of dappled things, the beauty of adaptation to purpose, the glory of extravagance, classic elegance or Romantic nonsense and grotesquerie"

heliconiuscydno: Doing a papers clear-out I came across a piece I gave as a talk and never published. Man of Moments: Louis MacNeice

heliconiuscydno: Louis MacNeice: a poet of moments whose work doesn't date



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