English poetry

Poems in English

PORTRAITS FROM MEMORY

I Through my bedroom window The coal carts jolted over the cobbles A slow heavy rhythm full, Light and fast […]

PULLED FROM A LIFE SOME LEAVES

Pulled from a life some leaves in evergreen Or dressed like fragrant crinoline draped Over shadows by di Chirico, stolen […]

GROTTY AND THE QUARRYMAN

(To Paul Sykes, author of ‘Sweet Agony’) He demolished five doors at a sitting And topped it off with an […]

MY FATHER

I had a father once, the records say. He has gone away down the long avenue Of death, on the […]

LETTER FROM HAWORTH

Poems do not always satisfy the soul, The feel of cobbles underfoot is at this moment more Than all of […]

A GRIEF

Rivers, tow paths, caravan parks From Kirkstall to Keighley The track’s ribbon flaps Like Margaret’s whirling and twirling At ten […]

TO DAISY ABEY

In sleep I dream the gratitude I know I cannot say Now you are in a latitude where palm trees […]

Bridge Over The Aire Book 6

THE WALK TO THE PARADISE GARDENS 1 Bonfire Night beckoned us to the bridge By Saint Hilda’s where we started […]

A CALL TO ARMS

It was like chucking-out time In a rough Victorian pub Cherubic Dylan was first to go Lachrymose but with a […]

WAITING

I am waiting for the sky to flower Like poems in a winter mind: And yet they come, maybe trailing […]

A MEETING WITH THE PRINCESS

Just a family get-together in a terrace house in Bradford High tea with a few stuffy aunts I hadn’t seen […]

CHANGE

As milled silver I was welcome In every gutter, tinkling over cobbles I rang the truth loudly on solid-oak counters […]

INFAMOUS POET

I never did fit in – at six or sixty one – I stand out in a crowd, too young […]

RESURRECTION

I thought of my ‘faculty of poetry’ As of the eye The bream or white-bait showed In its hysterical dance […]

MORNING WALK

For Barbara I step off the pavement Like a precipice Engage the darting sunshafts In a duel In the wall’s […]

WITHOUT THE WHEREWITHALL

To Thushari Williams Dear Thushie, the six months you spent with us Will never be forgotten, the long days you […]

OUR SON

Quarter to three: I wake again at the hour of his birth Thirty years ago and now he paces corridors […]

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