Poems by Barry Tebb
Letter From Leeds
... e red and yellow splendour of the red hot pokerDefiantly erect among the flowering robes of magnolia ...
A Grief
... crapyards,The stone glories of Yorkshire spring-How many more winters must I endureO my lost beloved ...
Welcome Home
... y adolescent timidity geldingMy desire for the welcoming heavy breastsAnd garlanded yielding vaginas ...
Kissing Cobblestones In Keighley
... I could bend and kiss them, everyone,Strong and securingAs cunts are soft and beckoning. ...
Three Songs For Mayday Morning
... a fiver at the back of Leeds MarketWhere I wander in search of oil pastelsIrish folk and cheap socks ...
Wants Poems And Has Never Rejected Anyone
... OBrien and Forbes, those two of our timeWho above all others vie for the crown of infamy and slime ...
Textpoem
... Yellow rapeseedFields of visionWhiter thanA shade of pale. ...
Letters To Friends
... I stick stamps like the clitorisOf a reluctant virgin, urgent forDefloration and the pulse of orgasm ...
View From The Inner City
... ultation Initiative"Flapping desultory and unreadWhere last year Beeston in Bloom was up instead ...
Asylum Seekers
... sked him to meet the twoAsylum-seekers I met in Huddersfields main streetAnd asked directions from ...
Mornings Like This
... under and made overInto the grey utilities of trade, the empty road,Sad as telegraph poles, my Sacr ...
The Paris Commune
... heart still beats At the goodwill of those souls buriedBeneath stones laughing and weeping even now ...
Aubade
... ke a homeIn Keighley, catch a bus to Haworth and walk and walkTill human talk is silenced by the sun ...
Inspiration From A Visitation Of My Muse
... n the still blue over the fields beyond the villageBut because I was city-bred I could not name them ...
Happy Thirtieth Birthday Carcanet Books
... Sorry, I almost forgot, but I don't thinkIts worth the effort to become a Carcanet poetWith my mug-shot on art gloss paperIn your catalogue as big as Mont BlancEasier to imagine, as Benjamin Peret did,A wind that would unscrew the mountainOr stars like apricot tarts strollingAimlessly along the Boulevard of Broken Dreams. ...
