Rainer Maria Rilke, Paul Celan, Stevie Smith, Laura Riding, Nelly Sachs, John Donne and all the Metaphysical poets, David Gascoigne (probably the only English Surrealist poet) were all huge influences. Dylan Thomas, too. I remember discovering Dylan Thomas's poetry when I was a teenager, and going into a local woodland park with one of his books, sitting aslant a willow in a long dress, and reading. A couple came by with their little boy. The boy glanced at me and spoke the immortal words, 'Mummy, look at that man.'

Good day friends!
Henry Normal - what a bloke. Later I will type out his "The Breath Within the Balloon." It's quite simply my favourite poem. Henry Normal has a remarkable ability to have you laughing and choking back tears, sometimes in the same poem.
Shame for us fans of his poetry that he's been so successful in comedy writing (Fast Show, The Royle Family etc) and TV production (runs Baby Cow with Steve Coogan) that his writing has taken a back seat.
I will always be grateful to him for setting up the Manchester Poetry Festival (now Literature Festival) along with, amongst other people, our own Steven Waling.
Alexander Pope is a poet that I studied at A level - "The Rape of the Lock" taught me tons.
Roger McGough, Henry Normal, the much maligned Pam Ayres and last but by no means least:
Henry Normal.

More meanderings from me later,
Marvin Cheeseman.

That's what I like about Write out Loud, the casual dropping of names, but names so diverse, you just know it's not a closed shop or secret world, Rainer Maria Rilke, Pam Ayres, Nelly Sachs, Nelly Dean, all wonderful women who can drop a line as easily as I can drop a stitch never having been much good at knitting (yes I know one of them is a man, if only I knew which one).

I don't want to appear to be copying off someone else's paper but I have to say that Dylan Thomas made me feel that poetry could be for bad boys, an idea was that was never really promoted at my school. He made it seem like a hugely enjoyable roller coaster ride, I never quite understood many of his poems, but then as an physically and mentally undernourished adolescent why would I? Hearing Under Milk Wood and watching a TV adaptation of Adventures in the Skin Trade alerted me to his existence, accompanied by lots of tuts and references to debauched drinking by my mother, who at least tolerated having that sort of stuff on when my father was out supporting the financial infrastructure of the country by drinking lots of draught Bass,and there you are another Thomas link, they would have got on fine over several pints of that flat Pale Ale. I got completely enamoured by DT's writing and more by accident than design ended up in glorious Swansea for three years, followed by six years in Oxford, at which point I did a left turn in the direction of Chinese/Japanese translations, all probably utterly inaccurate but provoking and confirming nontheless eg On his Baldness by Po Chui as translated by Arthur Waley, and from there in the direction of Gary Snyder following from Han Shan. Yes I was just a romantic weekend hippy with a mortgage and a nature boy who loved his mountains, birds and trees.(There are some particularly impenetrable mountain fastnesses in Oxford). Anyway enough of this rambling, I only switched the computer on to find out what was happening in Big Brother.

I never knew the housekeeper at Wuthering Heights wrote poetry. Well, well. Did Joseph write it, too? I suppose his would be in dialect.

And the impenetrable fastnesses are called ' The Dons,' aren't they? I was warned you couldn't scale them without crampons. And their scale? On a par with Hornby railways. But not on a parr, because that is a young salmon at a particular stage of its development. I rather like Basil Bunting but his name conjurs glove puppets. Selima Hill, too, I'll throw her into the ring of influences (grid references?).

Ok, a confession, just don't, well, give me funny looks after. Ok?
But I've always loved ye olde English medieval songs an ballads. You know, sort of 'Merry it is on May Morning', 'London Lickpenny', 'Summer is Come with Love to Town' an stuff.
Then Lorca's songs are cool too, an his 'Gypsy Ballads': lyrical, dark, bloody and mysterious.
There's this Swedish/Finnish guy called Gosta Agren who writes wonderful gnomic. aphoristic, condensed but highly lyrical bombshells.
And Stevie Smith for sheer wackiness stretched over the abyss.
And Hugh MacDiarmid.
ok, enough! Enough, already!

I'll add my hey nonny nonny to that. Piers Ploughman (I think that's how it's spelt but I guess we're dealing with a time in history when spelling wasn't standardised so ha ha) is profound. And the York(e) Mysteries. And Everyman. And Ladies Excuse Me. There's a new translation of Lorca out in the next week or so -- by that excellent translator Martin Sorrel who did a fantastic job on Rimbaud. Sing ding dong.

I first heard this poem recited by the author himself outside Manchester's Central Library on National Poetry Day. It was either 1997 or 1998, the years pass so quickly... anyway, I was blown away with it (sorry if that's a rather oblique pun). As promised here's Henry Normal's poem:

The Breath Within The Balloon

The breath within the balloon
Will not last
You never get inflated balloons
On the Antiques Road Show
Breath brings with it vulnerability

If never inflated
A balloon may last forever
But such limp reason
Will never enchant a child
With decoration
Or gladden the heart
With the stretching of possibility
And the fulfilment of promise

Is not a universe of such balloons sadder
Than a universe where balloons are apt to burst

I hold your breath within my hands

The breath within the balloon will not last
But the giving of breath
And the tying of the knot
At each new birth an offering
For our choice of words.



Henry Normal - my inspiration - he's got a lot to answer for...

Co-incidentally, I have only recenlty 'discovered' Henry Normal - my boss knows him and lent me some books which I've since bought myself - loving it!

But back to the question - interesting word 'influential'. I'm not sure I can claim to have been influenced by any individual when I started writing poetry at an early age, except that I purloined two poetry books off my dad - Palgraves Golden Treasury and The Penguin Book of Comic & Curious Verse (both circa 1961, both still in my possession, but the latter more well-thumbed!) so I suppose I took inspiration from a wide range of influences which may explain a few anomalies! I recall I was especially fond of Hillaire Belloc at the time.

Poets I'd like to be influenced by (and I'm still shamefully ignorant so this list is as random as my reading): Roger McGough, Simon Armitage, Carol Ann Duffy, Ginsberg, and Mr Normal now too. Haven't read much Dylan Thomas although I loved Under Milk Wood - so this discussin ha inspired me to delve further!

I should say that I've also been influenced by the people I've met through the Dead Good Poets especially David Bateman (but don't tell him I said that).

Have an all write day!

There was a greetings card I bought which I can truthfully say helped form my poetic consciousness (try saying that to yourself without gurning). The front showed Snow White in her glass coffin after she had eaten the poisoned apple. The seven dwarfs disported/draped themselves in postures of abject grief and despair around her. The greeting inside read: GET WELL SOON.

Fred Dibner. He started humbly enough in The Flintstones married to Wilma and then the poetry happened.

Leave Fred out of this, he's got enough on his footplate as it is.

To be a little serious one of the finest bits of inspirational rhyme (or doggerel) I've ever come across is by Sidney Carter (1968) (he of Lord of the Dance renown).

The Choosing

This choosing is
the cross you have to carry
right or wrong
you drag your feet in this or dance along.

You are not innocent
like the rose
or alligator,
you are condemned to be your own creator.

Self pity will
not make it any better,
right or wrong
you drag your feet in this or dance along.

Good night Johnboy, goodnight gramps.

As a child my father used to read to me "The Song of Hiawatha" by Longfellow - well worth a visit if you haven't read it.
http://www.theotherpages.org/poems/hiawatha.html
At school I was gob-smacked by the "The Pied Piper of Hamlin" by Browning - much better than anything bowdlerised version you may have heard and spellbound by the "The Jackdaw of Rheims" by Barham.
http://www.englishverse.com/poems/the_pied_piper_of_hamelin
http://www.bartleby.com/246/108.html
Other early influences included: Lewis Carrol - my youngest son has inherited my own fascination for this genius. http://www.poetry-archive.com/c/carroll_lewis.html
And of course Edward Lear http://www.nonsenselit.org/Lear/

Much later I was hugely entertained by Ivor Cutler who reminds me in many ways of our own dear Moxy! http://www.ivorcutler.org/

Poets I've been influenced by:

John Ashbery, Ted Berrigan, the little bit of Charles Coolidge I've read, Peter Didsbury, Basil Bunting, Kenneth Koch, Frank O'Hara, James Schuyler, Charles Olson, George Oppen, recently Charles Reznikoff, Geraldine Monk, Elizabeth Bishop, Elaine Randal, Barabara Guest, Alice Notley, Douglas Oliver, Martin Stannard,

avant garde poetics in general,

John Hartley Williams, Mark Ford, Sylvia Plath, Ted Hughes,

and I'm sure there's many more.

poets I've not been influenced by: Thomas Hardy, Edward Thomas, Philip Larkin, Wendy Cope, any light "more tea vicar" verse, Roger McGough, Rudyard Kipling,

Poets who influenced me include:
Attila the Stockbroker, Nick Toczek, John Cooper Clarke, Garry Johnson, Simon Armitage.
I could write about the reasons why but I don't really want to bore everyone to death!

I'd like to know the reasons why, Cayn. Otherwise I shall just make things up like... they're recipes and not poets. Or they once gave you a pair of tap shoes made out cheese rinds and muck.

Well most of them are really long stories, but as far as Attila the Stockbroker goes the first poem I ever heard by him was on a punk cd called "Burning Ambitions" and was called Russians in the DHSS and the way the words were put and the delivery of the poem as well as the actual lyrical content just sucked me in. Following that I tracked down more of his stuff and found myself liking more of his works from "Asylum Seaking Darlecks" and the thought provoking "Contributory Negligence" to poems like "Vegetables" and the gardeners anthemn "Designated Areas" and realised I was hooked and before too long I found myself writing in a similar style as him although that has thankfully become less noticable these days! But yeah, Attila was a definate influence.

Banjo Paterson

I have a book of Banjo Paterson's verse; now for a rousing chorus of, 'Waltzing Matilda.' I did an adaptation of My Brilliant Career and read a lot of Banjo Paterson as part of the research. He's a good 'un.

Stay clean shaven, but never go to barbers:

It was the man from Ironbark who struck the Sydney town,
He wandered over street and park, he wandered up and down.
He loitered here, he loitered there, till he was like to drop,
Until at last in sheer despair he sought a barber's shop.
"'Ere! shave my beard and whiskers off, I'll be a man of mark,
I'll go and do the Sydney toff up home in Ironbark."

The barber man was small and flash, as barbers mostly are,
He wore a strike-your-fancy sash, he smoked a huge cigar;
He was a humorist of note and keen at repartee,
He laid the odds and kept a "tote", whatever that may be,
And when he saw our friend arrive, he whispered, "Here's a lark!
Just watch me catch him all alive, this man from Ironbark."

There were some gilded youths that sat along the barber's wall.
Their eyes were dull, their heads were flat, they had no brains at all;
To them the barber passed the wink, his dexter eyelid shut,
"I'll make this bloomin' yokel think his bloomin' throat is cut."
And as he soaped and rubbed it in he made a rude remark:
"I s'pose the flats is pretty green up there in Ironbark."

A grunt was all reply he got; he shaved the bushman's chin,
Then made the water boiling hot and dipped the razor in.
He raised his hand, his brow grew black, he paused awhile to gloat,
Then slashed the red-hot razor-back across his victim's throat:
Upon the newly-shaven skin it made a livid mark -
No doubt it fairly took him in - the man from Ironbark.

He fetched a wild up-country yell might wake the dead to hear,
And though his throat, he knew full well, was cut from ear to ear,
He struggled gamely to his feet, and faced the murd'rous foe:
"You've done for me! you dog, I'm beat! one hit before I go!
I only wish I had a knife, you blessed murdering shark!
But you'll remember all your life the man from Ironbark."

He lifted up his hairy paw, with one tremendous clout
He landed on the barber's jaw, and knocked the barber out.
He set to work with nail and tooth, he made the place a wreck;
He grabbed the nearest gilded youth, and tried to break his neck.
And all the while his throat he held to save his vital spark,
And "Murder! Bloody murder!" yelled the man from Ironbark.

A peeler man who heard the din came in to see the show;
He tried to run the bushman in, but he refused to go.
And when at last the barber spoke, and said "'Twas all in fun—
'Twas just a little harmless joke, a trifle overdone."
"A joke!" he cried, "By George, that's fine; a lively sort of lark;
I'd like to catch that murdering swine some night in Ironbark."

And now while round the shearing floor the list'ning shearers gape,
He tells the story o'er and o'er, and brags of his escape.
"Them barber chaps what keeps a tote, By George, I've had enough,
One tried to cut my bloomin' throat, but thank the Lord it's tough."
And whether he's believed or no, there's one thing to remark,
That flowing beards are all the go way up in Ironbark.

Attila the Stockbroker -

I'm very proud to say that I still have a letter from him saying that I gave him the worst review he'd ever had. He then went on to tell me the size of his audience, which I think was supposed to impress me.

It didn't.

After all, his audience is as nothing compared to the audience for Take That.

There's a wonderful quote from the Goons which I'd like to share with you all.
'You silly, twisted boy.'

Steven: Compared to a load of performance poets on the two times I've supported him he's managed to draw a lot of people into the venue which has got to be healthy for the performance poetry scene

I'm sure he does bring in a lot of people. Good on him. So the only criteria these days for the "healthy" poetry performance is popularity, not, say, quality, or having an ability to move beyond simplistic sloganising, is it?

Figures.

No, but the fact that after over 25 years people still want to hear what he has to say counts for a lot. Also the audience may be tempted to check out other poets as well.
There are a load of different types of performance poetry "Ranting" poetry is one of them, might not be to everyones taste but folk obviously seemed to like it.

As for "moving beyond simplistic sloganising" you may do well to check out his poem "Veronica" which only goes to show that he's not as one dimensional as some portray him to be

"No, but the fact that after over 25 years people still want to hear what he has to say counts for a lot."

You could say the same about Bernard Manning. Or Pot Noodle.

Thats true, but in simple terms, if you don't like Attila, don't go to the gigs, same as if you don't like pot noodles, don't eat them.
But basically Attilas poems and songs for that matter inspired me to do what I do now, can't really say fairer that that.

All I'm trying to say is that popularity isn't a good yardstick by which to judge someone. In fact, it's worse than useless, it's meaningless. Especially when you're trying to persuade someone who's favourite music includes several obscure jazz bands of the 60's and 70's. If anything, whatever is popular already tends to put me off.

If you find something in his work that inspires you & moves you, great.

It was a book of his I reviewed, by the way, and it was a long time ago. I'm sure he's a good performer, and he may even have improved. If I read the book now, I might change my opinion (probably not, but you never know, I have done before...)

The letter he sent was priceless, by the way. Replying to a bad review is not recommended. It always makes you look like you've no sense of humour and can dish it out but can't take it yourself. It's a shame it came too late to go into City Life - with a suitably withering reply from me. Oh well.

Well, his books can be a different matter all together!

Thats fair enough.
Oh Steven, I noticed you put Ted Hughes as one of your influences, he's quite a celeb down here and theres actually a festival taking place in his name, really good poet.

Yes, he was one of my early influences. Not so much now; but then these days I prefer my poetry weird, post-modernist, difficult and probably urban rather than rural and shamanic.

For what it's worth, I rather like Medieval riddles. It's the altered perspective -- a bit like the Chinese having categories such as 'things that look like ants from a distance.'

I have never been riddled medievally, but I hope that I look like an ant from a distance. That would be much better than looking like a fat git from close up. And you can't smell the garlic from a distance.

Ogden Nash, Thomas Hood and Coleridge have all influenced me in a way that I like (Apart from Banjo of course). Casimir the Great didn't appear to be much influenced by Malpoetry, but you never know, he may just take time to think about things. He did love me though. He gave me a beautiful dalmanda and I have called her Dogspot. I may tell you about her sometime.

I definitely think we should hear it Nigerian poet Gabriel Okara, who I believe is no longer with us - but has left a Big voice and warm glow!

To you, Gabriel!

I absolutely adore Percy Byshe Shelley - in my poetry world hi is My God and on a more modern note Lemn Sissay is one of my hero - he is the best performance poet I have ever had the pleasure of watching/listening too.
His poems and performances sparkle with razzle dazzle!
If Shelley is my God then Lemn's my Prophet.
Not one for missing out the girlies - Sylvia Plath was a very strange woman but an incredible poet.
To come home I get lots of inspiration from you guys, Abi's angelic voice, Pete's passion, Moxy & Malc's mad word games, Scott's sensational sounds, Nat's nuttyness - help I've gone all alliteral!!! I think I best go and lie down.

I like the work of Ian Parks, Andrew Oldham, Clare Pollard and Pat Borthwick. I saw them play Bolton Library many moons ago and they where all unique in their own way. Clare Pollard has got better with each collection, Pat Borthwick is both funny and thought provoking (wish I could write with her). I think Ian Parks was working at the library at the time and his love poetry was beautiful and Andrew Oldham was funny and warm. I still have one of his comedy poems above my PC.

I like many of the romantic poets such as Goethe,Chateaubriand and Byron but also i suppose the bohemians such as Verlaine and Rimbaud.Things that inspire me at the moment are motorways and hands.

I LIKE ALL KINDS OF POETRY BECAUSE THEY REMIND ME OF MY LIFE. AND THEY REMIND ME OF MY FRIENDS AND FAMILY AND I JUST LOVE POEMS AND I ALSO WRITE MY OWN POEMS SAD HAPPY AND ABOUT DEATH TO.

Its odd, picking my influential poets pulls up a variety of different names.

But i have to say that my two most influential poets are both oddities to your typical influences. My first is allan alberg for his poem "the mad professors daughter" as this got me into poetry from a young age and captures a strong feeling of dread and evil.

My other influence is actually the hip-hopesque act of dan le sac vs scroobius pip, just search for the lyrics for "beat that my heart skipped", "the magicians assistant" or "waiting for the beat to kick in" to see why he's influenced me in a big way!

Have fun,
Jordan

I like a lot of the Romanian poets - Marin Sorescu and Constanta Buzea for instance. There's a kind of surreal bleakness to their poems but a sense of hope and joy too. I'm also a big fan of e e cummings - poetry that can be enjoyed for its shape as well as its words.

I'm shocked that nobody has mentioned T.S. Eliot. Or does he not need to be mentioned?

Ezra Pound found
round vowel sounds
in tales of ancient Italy.

His mate, T. S.
said 'They do impress'
but said it rather bitterly.

I prefer 'il miglior fabbro', myself.

Old Possum's Book Of Practical Cats was good, but most of the rest of Eliot's work was pretty poor. Not worth entering too far into that waste land.

I always get the impression when reading Elliot, although he was a brilliant poet, that he never quite reached his full potential. As if he were holding back in some way. This was perhaps due to the interference of Mr. Pound.

I don't think it was Pound that did that; I think that had more to do with his becoming Anglican. The Wasteland was better after Pound hacked at it; but after that he started getting more sanctimonious.

It's hard to pin down which poets have had the most influence on my writing but certianly Hilaire Belloc had a huge affect on me as a young reader. I have always been attracted to awkward humour so I'd also add Ogden Nash and John Hegley to the list.
Thom Gunn and William Carlos Willams are also personal favourites that I return to with regularity.

By the time I was sixteen I was steeped in poetry, all kinds of poetry. I read on my own volition and didn't pigeon-hole authors, categories or historical periods. So I cannot isolate one particular poet at all, I just can't. Poetry was the greatest teaching tool I ever experienced. But, it was in my mid-teens that I perceived a real problem which at that time I expressed like this:

Upon Originality

Is it possible to think
let alone write
anything
original?
Or is my every thought
mere mimicry
gleaned
from other minds?

OK. OK.... Robert Herrick, Christina Rossetti, Wallace Stevens,, Emily Dickinson, D.H. Lawrence, Anonymous, the Bible

Purple Ronnie

Didn't he write this months poem of the MONTH..Moxy?

That is for you to decide. I couldn't possibly comment.

Is Purple Ronnie a 'sub rosa' way of expressing scorn among a select few?

If it isn't, would you please explain the reference to me.

Hi Cynthia. No in-joke, Purple Ronnie is the most read and best paid poet in the UK. He (or, rather, his creator) is genuinely surprised to have been overlooked for the post of poet laureate.

Follow this link for the full Sunday Times article.

http://entertainment.timesonline.co.uk/tol/arts_and_entertainment/books/article6210758.ece

Moxy, thank you for clueing me in. That's the bloke who was on BBC telly this morning! I obviously didn't watch carefully enough. I saw the purple cards, heard some typical verses and laughed, because people really do enjoy these punches at one's sense of humour. I have seen customers stand at card racks where this type of greeting card is offered and read for sheer entertainment.

Much of the interview repeated the same ideas which are in the article. Thing is, I agree with a lot of the man's points. Big surprise, eh? You are very astute. Thanks again for the article.

Has anyone ever discussed the original raw mischief of our Nursery Rhymes? Somehow I am reminded.

cyril fletcher

Jason, who, please? and why?

Cyril Fletcher I seem to remember was the leather armchair bound Thats Life resident.

Cyril Fletcher (25 June 1913 – 2 January 2005) was an English comedian; his catchphrase was 'Pin back your lugholes'. He was most famous for his Odd Odes, which was a section of the television show That's Life!. Fletcher had first begun performing the Odd Odes in 1937, long before they first appeared on television (though he did appear on pre World War II television[1]). He came up with the idea when he was short of material for a radio show. The first Odd Ode was a comic, yet sentimental, reading of Edgar Wallace's war poem Dreaming of Thee. Following this broadcast he was given a regular programme on Radio Luxembourg; it was this show that brought him to national attention.

He also appeared as a panellist on the popular UK BBC panel show What's My Line? that ran from 1951 to 1963.

Fletcher was born in Watford, the son of a solicitor, who was the Friern Barnet town clerk.[2] Following schooling at Friern Barnet Grammar School,[3] where he first began to entertain by composing witty poems about his schoolmasters,[4] he graduated from the Guildhall School of Music and Drama. Fletcher was also a successful businessman, believing it to be important to diversify in such a fickle business as show business. He was the founder of Associated Speakers, an agency for after-dinner speakers, on whose books were the likes of the Duke of Bedford and Lord Longford, as well as himself.

First as a child, Edward Lear's Nonsense verse of course. Then has to be Dylan Thomas, John Donne and above all my hero Ted Hughes. Theirs were the first books I ever bought, and still read. Never had the brainpower to decipher the crossword-puzzle poets.

I like T.S.Eliot but my hero is George Formby.

So, what have you got against aardvarks?

My biggest influences are Larkin and Andrew Motion. I've made it my life's work to write as unlike them as possible.

Oh, and my second biggest influence is a small fish called Gerald.