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George Barker poems, quotations and biography on George Barker poet page. Read all poems of George Barker and infos about George Barker.
George Granville Barker was an English poet and author.
Life and Work
Barker was born in Loughton, near Epping Forest in Essex, England, elder brother of Kit Barker [painter] George Barker was raised by his Irish mother and English father in Battersea, London. He was educated at an L.C.C. school and at Regent Street Polytechnic. Having left school at an early age he pursued several odd jobs before settling on a career in writing. Early volumes of note by Barker include Thirty Preliminary Poems (1933), Poems (1935) and Calamiterror (1937), which was inspired by the Spanish Civil War.
In his early twenties, Barker had already been published by T. S. Eliot at ... more »
George Barker Poems
Most near, most dear, most loved and most far,
Under the window where I often found her
Sitting as huge as Asia, seismic with laughter,
Gin and chicken helpless in her Irish hand,... more »
Most near, most dear, most loved, and most far,
Under the huge window where I often found her
Sitting as huge as Asia, seismic with laughter,
Gin and chicken helpless in her Irish hand,... more »
January jumps about
in the frying pan
trying to heat
his frozen feet... more »
Grandfather, Grandfather,
what do pandas say?
Grandfather, Grandfather,
as among the rocks they roll... more »
I looked into my heart to write
And found a desert there.
But when I looked again I heard
Howling and proud in every word... more »
Not less light shall the gold and the green lie
On the cyclonic curl and diamonded eye, than
Love lay yesterday on the breast like a beast.
Not less light shall God tread my maze of nerve... more »
1
Today, recovering from influenza,
I begin, having nothing worse to do,
This autobiography that ends a... more »
Comments about George Barker
January Jumps About
January jumps about
in the frying pan
trying to heat
his frozen feet
like a Canadian.
February scuttles under
any dish's lid
and she thinks she's dry because she's
thoroughly well hid
but it still rains all month long
and it always did.
March sits in the bath tub
with the taps turned on.
Hot and cold, cold or not,
Has the Winter gone?
In like a lion, out like a lamb
March on, march on, march on.
April slips about
sometimes indoors
and sometimes out
sometimes sheltering from a little
shower of bright rain
in an empty ...
I want to read a poem by George Barker called Dionysus.