John Betjeman was an English poet and broadcaster. He’s remembered as a well-loved figure in the English poetry scene and served as Poet Laureate from 1972 until his death in 1984. He started his career as a journalist and wrote witty and humorous poems that were easily accessible.
He is best known for his writings on contemporary English life, often told with a humorous or satirical bent.
This poem is a poignant reflection on the moments before Oscar Wilde’s arrest, the poem intertwines his life and literature with emotional depth and historical context.
He sipped at a weak hock and seltzer
As he gazed at the London skies
Through the Nottingham lace of the curtains
Or was it his bees-winged eyes?
A humorous take on affluent children’s equestrian failures, with a self-proclaimed expert young narrator humorously critiquing others, only to comically fail herself.
It's awfully bad luck on Diana
Her ponies have swallowed their bits
She fished down their throats with a spanner
And frightened them all into fits
Betjeman’s ‘The Village Inn’ melds change and nostalgia, critiquing modern alterations to a classic English inn, lamenting lost history and character.
The village inn, the dear old inn,
So ancient, clean and free from sin,
True centre of our rural life
Where Hodge sits down beside his wife
Betjeman’s famed poem humorously narrates his affection for Joan Hunter Dunn, blending tennis, social status, and a heartfelt confession.
Miss J.Hunter Dunn, Miss J.Hunter Dunn,
Furnish'd and burnish'd by Aldershot sun,
What strenuous singles we played after tea,
We in the tournament - you against me!
John Betjeman’s ‘Upper Lambourne’ paints a lyrical portrait of a West Berkshire village, blending nostalgia with local history and the enigma of an unmarked grave.
Up the ash tree climbs the ivy,
Up the ivy climbs the sun,
With a twenty-thousand pattering,
Has a valley breeze begun,
John Betjeman’s ‘Executive’ critiques a business leader’s life, highlighting absurdity and moral ambiguity in a money-focused existence.
I am a young executive. No cuffs than mine are cleaner;
I have a Slimline brief-case and I use the firm's Cortina.
In every roadside hostelry from here to Burgess Hill
The maะพtres d'hัtel all know me well, and let me sign the bill.
‘Senex’ explores an archetypal man’s unsettling obsession with youth, his internal conflict, and his desperate wish for mental escape.
Oh would I could subdue the flesh
Which sadly troubles me!
And then perhaps could view the flesh
As though I never knew the flesh
Betjeman’s ‘Slough’ begins with a plea for destruction, reflecting the poet’s disdain for the city’s dehumanizing industrialization.
Come friendly bombs and fall on Slough!
It isnโt fit for humans now,
There isnโt grass to graze a cow.
Swarm over, Death!
‘In Westminster Abbey’ is a satirical dramatic monologue in which Betjeman sends up the upper classes for their preoccupations with class and money.
Let me take this other glove off
As the vox humana swells,
And the beauteous fields of Eden
Bask beneath the Abbey bells.
Betjeman’s ‘Christmas’ juxtaposes cozy, traditional festivities with the profound story of Christ’s birth, questioning the true essence of the holiday.
The bells of waiting Advent ring,
The Tortoise stove is lit again
And lamp-oil light across the night
Has caught the streaks of winter rain
‘The Planster’s Vision’ by John Betjeman satirizes the goals of men who indiscriminately demolish buildings of cultural or aesthetic significance.
Cut down that timber! Bells, too many and strong,
Pouring their music through the branches bare,
From moon-white church-towers down the windy air
Have pealed the centuries out with Evensong.
Betjeman’s ‘An Edwardian Sunday, Broomhill, Sheffield’ weaves a narrative of serene beauty disrupted by the shadows of industrial growth.
High dormers are rising
So sharp and surprising,
And ponticum edges
The driveways of gravel;
โDeath in Leamingtonโ by Betjeman is a serene portrayal of death’s calm, marked by a nurse’s quiet realization in a peaceful room.
She died in the upstairs bedroom
By the light of the ev'ning star
That shone through the plate glass window
From over Leamington Spa
Through humor and satire, ‘Diary of a Church Mouse’ offers a witty critique on sporadic religious devotion from a mouse’s perspective.
Here among long-discarded cassocks,
Damp stools, and half-split open hassocks,
Here where the vicar never looks
I nibble through old service books.
โInexpensive Progressโ by John Betjeman is an incredibly effective poem. In it, the speaker acknowledges and speaks out against the way industrialism is removing humanityโs access to history and nature.ย
Encase your legs in nylons,
Bestride your hills with pylons
O age without a soul;
Away with gentle willows
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