ON FIRST READING JOHN GOODBY’S ‘IRISH POETRY SINCE 1950’ (Barry Tebb Poems)
Barbarous insult to Yeats' memory and Claudel's Allen, thank God you are dead, you who breathed the air of Apollinaire, ...
Barry Tebb Poems on World (15 Poems)
THE ROAD TO HAWORTH MOOR (Barry Tebb Poems)
for Brenda Williams The dawn cracked with ice, with fire grumbling in the grate, With ire in the homes we ...
BRIDE OF THE WIND (Barry Tebb Poems)
for Brenda Both had come with no gardener but the soul; I had myself expressed them in weariness, Like the ...
SORRY I MISSED YOU (Barry Tebb Poems)
(or 'Huddersfield the Second Poetry Capital of England Re-visited') What was it Janice Simmons said to me as James lay ...
A FINE MADNESS (Barry Tebb Poems)
Any poets about or bored muses fancying a day out? Rainy, windy, cold Leeds City Station Half-way through its slow ...
JAMES SIMMONS R.I.P. (Barry Tebb Poems)
You were the one I wanted most to know So like yet unlike, like fire and snow, The casual voice, ...
THE COLOSSUS (Barry Tebb Poems)
(Goya, an old man in exile, looks at his self-portrait) A bull's neck, still much needed, Deserving exile or the ...
EVERYTHING IN ITS PLACE (Barry Tebb Poems)
Desks are straining on all fours, flanks Heaving to hurl the hunched riders Down crack and cranny, buck Finger-snapping lids, ...
SUMMER FEVER (Barry Tebb Poems)
The unsettled trees seem to share My tensions of body and mind: Unable to move before the shell of the ...
Bridge Over The Aire Book 1 (Barry Tebb Poems)
AGAINST THE GRAIN "Oxford be silent, I this truth must write Leeds hath for rarities undone thee quite." - William ...
WITHOUT THE WHEREWITHALL (Barry Tebb Poems)
To Thushari Williams Dear Thushie, the six months you spent with us Will never be forgotten, the long days you ...
OUR SON (Barry Tebb Poems)
Quarter to three: I wake again at the hour of his birth Thirty years ago and now he paces corridors ...
LEEDS 2002 (Barry Tebb Poems)
What ghosts haunt These streets of perpetual night? Riverbanks fractured with splinters of glass condominiums For nouveam riche merchant bankers ...
TO MY WIFE (Barry Tebb Poems)
I You buy my freedom with your love. With every book you catalogue or stamp My imagination hacks a strand ...