VIEW FROM THE INNER CITY (Barry Tebb Poems)
Leeds this silent solemn Sunday Tempest Road is clear of all But wistful birds, parked cars And vagrant trees. The ...
Leeds this silent solemn Sunday Tempest Road is clear of all But wistful birds, parked cars And vagrant trees. The ...
For Barbara I step off the pavement like a precipice Engage the darting sunshafts in a duel In the wall's ...
I You buy my freedom with your love. With every book you catalogue or stamp My imagination hacks a strand ...
The Poetry School, The Poetry Book Society, The Poetry Business: So much poetry about you'd think I'd want to shout, ...
for Ken Kesey and his merry pranksters in a bus called 'Further...' Dear _______ and here's where the problem begins ...
As milled silver I was welcome In every gutter, tinkling over cobbles I rang the truth loudly on solid-oak counters ...
I was never a film buff, give me Widmark and Wayne any day Saturday matin?es with Margaret Gardener still hold ...
When Blunkett starts to talk like Enoch Powell I think of Harold Wilson's statue in Huddersfield Station Caught striding forward, ...
I struggled through streets of Bricked-up, boarded-up houses, Mostly burned-out, keeping To the middle of the road, Watching the abandoned ...
Barbarous insult to Yeats' memory and Claudel's Allen, thank God you are dead, you who breathed the air of Apollinaire, ...
Arriving for a reading an hour too early: Ruefully, the general manager stopped putting out the chairs. "You don't get ...
Any poets about or bored muses fancying a day out? Rainy, windy, cold Leeds City Station Half-way through its slow ...
I Through my bedroom window The coal carts jolted over the cobbles A slow heavy rhythm full, Light and fast ...
Why our son, why? Every morning the same dark chorus wakes me And I wonder how I am still alive. ...
Mornings like this I awaken and wonder How I have moved so far, how I have moved so little And ...
The grain of the exposed boards Speaks through the wall of the years We are back in our cottage On ...
I drowse and dream in this sleeping house Fynbos the cat purring by the curtain Suriya the sun god sharing ...
for Brenda Both had come with no gardener but the soul; I had myself expressed them in weariness, Like the ...
Alone in Sutton with Fynbos my orange cat A long weekend of wind and rain drowning The tumultuous flurry of ...
"Remember, you loved me, when we were young, one day" The words of the song in Tauber's mellifluous tenor Haunt ...
Two nights I have dreamed of you Once as an adolescent, evanescent Yet tangible still to the spirit's touch, Then ...
From the French of Andr? Fr?naud France was born there and it is from there she sings Of Joan of ...
When my mam had to go Up north to look after gran, Margaret's mam said I could Stop with them; ...
This is one spring you will not see. The fifty roses of your spray Smelt soft across that February day ...
I Living in a land Where only the dying correspond I am borne on the wings of love II I ...
You were the one I wanted most to know So like yet unlike, like fire and snow, The casual voice, ...
The unsettled trees seem to share My tensions of body and mind: Unable to move before the shell of the ...
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