Len Webster Poems

He was judged by the old university to be
A man about whom nothing bad could be said
And all of his colleagues were certain that he
Knew enough about words to deserve a degree
...

This poem is about a man
Who always had a reason
For being unhappy.
...

They were the cheated generation:
Young between two wars
Then trapped in promises
Of better times to come,
...

Old age is

When the winter is never-ending
And bones groan through
...

If Shakespeare died today
would the lights of Broadway
be lowered
and the BBC World Service
...

This is the city of which we sang,
Of which we were encouraged to dream,
For which our hearts each missed a beat
As we thought of the mushroom clouds.
...

lipstick, smug,
superior,
a fixed expression
on her unresourceful face,
...

Can't spell?
Can't speak?
Why not teach English
To the meek?
...

Am I reaching the pale stretch home now?
Wire-lines are confused and a complex pattern
Is weaving its changing way past scrapyards
And ghost-inhabited derelict stations.
...

I was brought up
in a lost time
when a liberal
education
...