Famous Barry Poems by Famous Poets

These are examples of famous Barry poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous barry poems. These examples illustrate what a famous barry poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).

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Uncle Bob

by Barry Tebb
 Shell-shocked from Korea

A grenade that left him

The platoon’s only survivor,

Put him in Stanley Royd

For thirty years.

He tailored there

And out on weekend leaves

He made and mended

Everybody’s clothes,

Crying copiously

While he sewed.

When they cleared out

The chronic cases

Uncle Bob came home,

Shopping for Edna,

Doing the garden;

When the lodger left

Without a word, the police

Searched his room,

The garden shed,

Even the chest freezer.

Oesophageal cancer

Is very final.

John, his...Read more of this...

Leeds

by Barry Tebb
 O my beloved city,

How many times have I deserted you

For the sights and sounds of Babylon?

How often and from how far

Have I conjured your broad boulevards

O Quartier Latin, crowded street caf?s

With white and scarlet awnings, gold

Adornings on stone cupolas, Byzantine domes

And plinths of equine statuary before

The Gare du Nord, grumbling fading

Faience of the Gare de l’Est?



Often, O how often,...Read more of this...

Textpoem

by Barry Tebb
 Yellow rapeseed

Fields of vision

Whiter than

A shade of pale....Read more of this...

Smile You Are On Cctv

by Barry Tebb
 Even the charity shops boast of the surveillance

Mr Average is caught on camera a hundred times a day

To provide unending footage for reality TV

But in a decade where will we all be?

Big Brother’s eye will see our every step,

The blink of every eye, the tears we cry....Read more of this...

Hymn

by Barry Tebb
 How I love the working-class girls of Leeds,

Their mile-wide smiles, eyes bright as beads,

Their young breasts bobbing as they run,

Hands quick as darting fish, lithe legs

Bare as they scramble over the Hollows

With brown-soled feet and dimpled bums

Half-covered with knickers, and short frocks

Full of flowers and their delicate ears,

Perfect teeth and flickering tongues, the

Fragile bones of their cheeks, the soft

Sweetness...Read more of this...

Bridge Over The Aire Book 3

by Barry Tebb
 THE KINGDOM OF MY HEART





1



The halcyon settled on the Aire of our days

Kingfisher-blue it broke my heart in two

Shall I forget you? Shall I forget you?



I am the mad poet first love

You never got over

You are my blue-eyed

Madonna virgin bride

I shall carve ‘MG loves BT’

On the bark of every 

Wind-bent tree in 

East End Park



2



The park itself will blossom

And...Read more of this...

Barry Holden

by Edgar Lee Masters
 The very fall my sister Nancy Knapp
Set fire to the house
They were trying Dr. Duval
For the murder of Zora Clemens,
And I sat in the court two weeks
Listening to every witness.
It was clear he had got her in a family way;
And to let the child be born
Would not do.
Well, how about me with eight children,
And one coming, and the farm
Mortgaged...Read more of this...

Marginalia

by Barry Tebb
 Here is a silence I had not hoped for

This side of paradise, I am an old believer

In nature’s bounty as God’s grace

To us poor mortals, fretting and fuming

At frustrated lust or the scent of fame 

Coming too late to make a difference

Blue with white vertebrae of cloud forms

Riming the spectrum of green dark of poplars

Lined like soldiers, paler the...Read more of this...

The Cardinal Looks Back

by Barry Tebb
 I was a good father to my people,

Their houses among the terraced hills

Adored God every day, grape-clusters on the vines

Made Christ’s blood richer in the goblet

My father gave me: the chased silver had vines

Round the stem and Cellini made it,

‘Let him take it to Rome’, he had said,

‘The Pope will adore it.’ The backs of my people

Bent as I...Read more of this...

Bride Of The Wind

by Barry Tebb
 for Brenda



Both had come with no gardener but the soul;

I had myself expressed them in weariness,

Like the last drop of milk from your tired breast.

The red rose was no rose for me.

My black rose shone in a silver dawn

In the throat of the wind.



On the tongue of the wind

I taste your spirit;

I will bear you on my toes

To the...Read more of this...

In Harm's Way

by Barry Tebb
 I was never a film buff, give me Widmark and Wayne any day

Saturday matin?es with Margaret Gardener still hold sway

As my memory veers backwards this temperate Boxing Day-

Westerns and war films and a blurred Maigret,

Coupled with a worn-out sixties Penguin Mallarm?-

How about that mix for a character trait?

Try as I may I can’t get my head round the manifold...Read more of this...

Incompatabilities

by Barry Tebb
 For Brenda Williams



La lune diminue; divin septembre.

Divine September the moon wanes.

 Pierre Jean Jouve



Themes for poems and the detritus of dreams coalesce:

This is one September I shall not forget.



The grammar-school caretaker always had the boards re-blacked

And the floors waxed, but I never shone.

The stripes of the red and black blazer

Were prison-grey. You could never see things that way:

Your home...Read more of this...

A Kind Of Distraction

by Barry Tebb
 You always disrupt me;

When I ring you for comfort

You wing me, send my

Pudding of a mind

A-splatter on the wall.

You chase me to bed even,

Passionately, not-yourself-at-all,

You bawl your lewd reminders

Down aching avenues of dreams

To shudder me awake.

And then at last you’ll fake

Your promises and take

Some simpler way, battening

On the eggs you’ll hatch

Warmly some tea-cosy day.

All this, you’ll say, was

Merely adolescence,...Read more of this...

Death Of A Poet

by Barry Tebb
 for Wendy Oliver, who knew him

I am the sick animal you dream you are caring for

In the long avenues of night I cannot find a name

For the sickness except the despair of a poet sensing his veins

Silt up like the delta of a neglected river with none of the solace

Sidney Graham felt as he lay by Nessie’s side with...Read more of this...

Three Songs For Mayday Morning

by Barry Tebb
 ( I )


for ‘JC’ of the TLS

Nightmare of metropolitan amalgam

Grand Hotel and myself as a guest there

Lost with my room rifled, my belongings scattered,

Purse, diary and vital list of numbers gone – 

Vague sad memories of mam n’dad

Leeds 1942 back-to-back with shared outside lav.

Hosannas of sweet May mornings

Whitsun glory of lilac blooming

Sixty years on I run and run

From death,...Read more of this...

Leftovers

by Barry Tebb
 Empty chocolate boxes, a pillowcase with an orange at the bottom,

Nuts and tinsel with its idiosyncratic rustle and brilliant sheen

And the reflection in it of paper-chains hand-made and stuck with

Flour-paste stretching from the light-bowl to every corner of the room.

Father Christmas himself was plastic and his vast stomach painted red

With a bulging sack behind his back and he was...Read more of this...

Leeds 2002

by Barry Tebb
 What ghosts haunt

These streets of perpetual night?

Riverbanks fractured with splinters of glass condominiums

For nouveam riche merchant bankers

Black-tied bouncers man clubland glitz casinos

Novotel, Valley Park Motel, the Hilton:

Hot tubs, saunas, swim spas, en suite 

Satellite TV, conference rooms, disco dinners.

I knew Len, the tubby taxi man

With his retirement dreams of visiting

The world’s great galleries:

‘Titian, Leonardo, Goya,

I’ve lived all my life...Read more of this...

Windsong

by Barry Tebb
 I drowse and dream in this sleeping house

Fynbos the cat purring by the curtain

Suriya the sun god sharing the garden

Where joss sticks burn and my nostrils quiver

At the echo of Japanese songs, long ago.

In the breaking day I kiss your lips

And taste the tongue of your waking shadow....Read more of this...

My Perfect Rose

by Barry Tebb
 At ten she came to me, three years ago,

There was ‘something between us’ even then;

Watching her write like Eliot every day,

Turn prose into haiku in ten minutes flat,

Write a poem in Greek three weeks from learning the alphabet;

Then translate it as ‘Sun on a tomb, gold place, small sacred horse’.

I never got over having her in the room, though

Every...Read more of this...

To Brenda Williams On Her Fiftieth Birthday

by Barry Tebb
 The years become you as Oxford becomes you,

As you became Oxford through the protest years;

From Magdalen’s grey gargoyles to its bridge in May,

From the cement buttresses of Wellington Square

To Balliol, Balliol in the rain.



The years become you as the Abbey Road becomes you,

As you became that road through silent years,

From the famous crossing to the stunted bridge

Caparisoned with carnivals...Read more of this...

Poet-in-residence

by Barry Tebb
 You are my dream

Of the East

You are my life

In the West

Fused in one

You begin my day

And end each day

With a silent smile

When I die I will

Have only my love

To leave you.

You said I had written 

No poems for you

And you had written

Only cheques.

I cannot go on loving

The empty air

No matter how many cheques 

That air may bear.

I have a...Read more of this...

To The Memory Of My Mother

by Barry Tebb
 This is one spring you will not see.

The fifty roses of your spray

Smelt soft across that February day

Where trees, heavy as only crematoria

Can bear, sloped down the fallen banks

To where we waited in the chapel, me

Clutching Father Kevin’s hand, remembering

My given grace and faith renewed

In answer to my prayers, Brenda in tears,

And Joyce the sister of my years, Kim

And...Read more of this...

The Paris Commune

by Barry Tebb
 From the French of Andr? Fr?naud



France was born there and it is from there she sings

Of Joan of Ark and Varlin both.

We must dig deep, o motherland,

Beneath those heavy cobbles.

Country of the Commune, so dear to me,

My very own which make my blood burn

And that same blood will one day flow again

Between those very stones.

It is there when I...Read more of this...

The Philosophers

by Barry Tebb
 Lavender musk rose from the volume I was reading through,

The college crest impressed in gold, tooled gold lettering on the spine.

It was not mine but my son’s, jammed in the corner of a cardboard box

With dozens more; just one box of a score, stored in a heap

Across my ex-wife’s floor, our son gone far, as far as Samarkand and...Read more of this...

The Old Straight Track

by Barry Tebb
 Runs to no compass point

But starts within the human heart

Where travellers in twos may go

As for a while it winds beside

A man-made road then veers aside



We met at a cross-roads once and journeyed

Together for a while across a moor

And then on horseback sadly you waved adieu....Read more of this...

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