Barry Tebb

(1942 / West Yorkshire / UK)

Barry Tebb Poems

1. THE DREAMER, THE SLEEP 12/22/2017
2. WITHOUT THE WHEREWITHALL 12/22/2017
3. TO LEEDS BIG ISSUE SELLERS 12/22/2017
4. OUR SON 12/22/2017
5. TO THE SOUND OF VIOLINS 12/22/2017
6. MARGINALIA 12/22/2017
7. PULLED FROM A LIFE SOME LEAVES 12/22/2017
8. COMING TO TERMS WITH SCHIZOPHRENIA 12/22/2017
9. TO MARGARET, UNFORGOTTEN 12/22/2017
10. UPON BEING ASKED WHY I AM NOT WRITING 12/22/2017
11. THE DAYS GO BY 12/22/2017
12. LETTER FROM HAWORTH 12/22/2017
13. LETTER FROM KIRKHEATON 12/22/2017
14. LETTER FROM LEEDS 12/22/2017
15. A GRIEF 12/22/2017
16. WELCOME HOME 12/22/2017
17. KISSING COBBLESTONES IN KEIGHLEY 12/22/2017
18. WANTS POEMS AND HAS NEVER REJECTED ANYONE 12/22/2017
19. WANTS POEMS AND HAS NEVER REJECTED ANYONE 12/22/2017
20. TEXTPOEM 12/22/2017
21. LETTERS TO FRIENDS 12/22/2017
22. VIEW FROM THE INNER CITY 12/22/2017
23. ASYLUM SEEKERS 12/22/2017
24. MORNINGS LIKE THIS 12/22/2017
25. THE PARIS COMMUNE 12/22/2017
26. AUBADE 12/22/2017
27. INSPIRATION FROM A VISITATION OF MY MUSE 12/22/2017
28. HAPPY THIRTIETH BIRTHDAY CARCANET BOOKS 12/22/2017
29. POET-IN-RESIDENCE 12/22/2017
30. LEEDS 2002 12/22/2017
31. TO FOUR PSYCHOANALYSTS 12/22/2017
32. WINTER BLUES 12/22/2017
33. MY PERFECT ROSE 12/22/2017
34. SCHOOL SMELL 12/22/2017
35. UNCLE BOB 12/22/2017
36. A MEETING WITH THE PRINCESS 12/22/2017
37. WYTHER PARK SCHOOL LEEDS FIVE 12/22/2017
38. MORNING WALK 12/22/2017
39. THE INNOCENT EYE 12/23/2017
40. TEXTURES 12/23/2017

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Best Poem of Barry Tebb

The Gift

We were three weeks

Into term, Sheila,

When you came

Through the classroom door;

Forty-four children

Bent over books,

Copying Roethke's

‘The Lost Son'.

You wrote your

First poem on the ‘Moses'

Of Michelangelo.

Words cut like stone.

I taught you Greek

But your painting of

‘The Essence of the Rose'

Was pure Platonic form.

You drew the masks

Of Comedy and Tragedy

In perfect harmony.

Having seen neither;

So Socrates was right.

Those who have the ...

Read the full of The Gift

The Innocent Eye

I struggled through streets of
Bricked-up, boarded-up houses,
Mostly burned-out, keeping
To the middle of the road,
Watching the abandoned gardens
With here and there a house
Still lived in, curtained
Against the daylight and distantly
I saw the iron railings of the school

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