Starting to Write

‘Groping back to bed after a piss
I part the thick curtains, and am startled by
The rapid clouds, the moon's cleanliness.’
Sad Steps by Philip Larkin


So where did I begin. Not to bore you with tales of the scribblings in my jotter at Secondary school. (although I still have the anthology) when did I first take my writing seriously? More importantly how – that’s what’s useful to know. My education was a bit of a failure for me. I can’t really say it engaged me or gave me secrets that have led to success later in life. Maybe this is the result of inner city comprehensive education in England combined with growing up in Salford. Maybe my brain doesn’t quite fire in the way other brains do. But I did study English Literature at A level and between that and Richard and Judy, I did get a little out of my college education. Though it was so much time later that Larkin and Lear, George and Martha and Charles Causley seeped into my consciousness.
The fact that the deeper meanings and the subtleties of the structures and rhythms of Larkin came back to me so much later, struck me as carrying gravitas. I returned to the work years later. Low and behold it made sense. This is the starting point for anybody that wants to write poetry - read poetry. You see it repeated over and over on in ‘how to’ guide book. All those ‘Dummy writer’ or ‘Pencil Sharpening 101’. You need to go back and find a poem that speaks to you. Larkin is someone that speaks to me. Coming from the inner city I need poets to say ‘Groping back to bed after a piss’. It makes me feel good when I am doing the same. I don’t visit the bathroom briefly in the night, with sleephead upon me I just go for a piss. Actually I stumble there and grope my way back. But to think and behave uncouthly does not mean I am not allowed to have a look at the moon and appreciate it or let it give a brief slap to remind me that we age when we don’t want to be reminded of it.


‘Is a reminder of the strength and pain
Of being young; that it can't come again,
But is for others undiminished somewhere.’
Sad Steps by Philip Larkin


So where did that lead to? This is from some ten or so years ago:


People You Work With.


Microwave feelings, convenient and quick.
These sorry people are definitely sick.
These torturing souls that lean away,
They foul the lines of communicay.


They thrust their lives upon all others,
Mate with me, friend with another.
Parasitic hellos and forgotten goodbyes,
Little of value in their smiles and sighs.


Listen to the liturgy of lies and deceit,
Listen to the godforsaken misery bleat,
Listen to me, crying for fucks sake!
My soul rolled out with luck’s stake.


Distance despite closely working together,
A shared thought about the clueless weather.
Desperate to deviate away from the dole,
No fucking questions, no fucking soul.




There are a couple of lines that I like: the first line, the second stanza, the first line of the last stanza. There are also lines that I don’t like: inventing the word communicay spoils the first stanza and there is the odd line that has no relevance. The next step after reading others poetry is to get to grips with form - rhythm and structure. That is what I have been doing for the last five years. Obviously I had a rudimentary understanding of it from the start but as I looked to write without structure I knew that I needed to understand when to escape structure and when needing to call on it, how to use it properly. This took me to Stephen Fry’s The Ode Less Travelled. This book was my first bible and a thoroughly enjoyable read.


Poetry can be locked inside you and just poured onto the paper. Even so everyone can improve what they write and how they write it, and therefore, need to look at models and methods. Read other poets. Read books about poetry appreciation and analysis. Read books about poetry structure and form. Educate yourself continuously.