November 2016.
Lit Fest Poet.
Jess: Welcome John to Wakefield Lit Fest.
John: It is really good to be here and talking about my latest poetry book. This one I have given my all my time and energy to and I hope the readers will enjoy it.
Jess: Before we ‘get into’ your book, I would like to ask you where you were born.
John: My family have lived in various parts of Cumbria for generations, I was born in Carlisle, the eldest of three boys.
Jess: Your mum and dad had plenty on their hands then!
John: You can say that again, we kept them busy, we were a family of keen footballers, mum had loads of muddy sports gear to cope with, to say nothing of feeding four males. Carlisle F.C. became a tradition in our family.
Jess: Somehow, football and poetry don’t seem to mix, when did your interest in that come along.
John: I liked the bits of stuff we did in Primary School, it was when we got into Junior School that Mr Jones caught my attention with it. He used to read poems aloud to us. It was surprising how rowdy boys settled down and listened. He was Welsh you know, his accent and his voice, perhaps it was his accent.
Jess: Can you remember your favourites?
John: Gosh! You are testing my memory now. There was John Masefield’s Sea Fever, and oh yes! The one about Highwayman. He read a lot of Dylan Thomas, they were good too, I think out of all them the poems of William Wordsworth resonated with me. I built my own style on him.
Jess: You have settled in Yorkshire, you have a wife and I think, two sons?
John: Yes, that’s correct, they are all keen on football, following in the families Carlisle F. C., tradition, we go to matches whenever we can.
Jess: Do they write poetry too?
John: Oh! Bits and bobs, nothing too heavy or serious, more the rude jokey boy’s stuff, they are eight and ten years old, there’s time yet.
Jess: Time to tell us about your book now! What’s its title?
John: I have called it ‘Rustic Tales’, it’s a selection of 25 poems about farming and countryside. I have based it on the Yorkshire Dales. It tells of hill sheep farmers, the moorlands, the valley bottoms, church steeples and of course, the local pub. There has been a collaboration between myself and artist, Arthur Johnson for the illustrations, ‘two for the price of one,’ if you like.
Jess: Are you going to read us one of your Poems John?
John: As we are on Wakefield, I will read from a previous book,
‘Ponies Grazing on Heath Common.’
Fringed by a matted
mane, ribs just from the grey
tethered by a length of chain
and the onward crawl of years.
Treading a shrunken circle
of worn grass, the days pass
to the distant thrum of traffic,
a locomotive’s faraway fugue.
Wilting hips coughed mist,
a draped shroud of neglect,
one more black scrub afternoon
to shuffle to one side.
Jess: That’s great John, thank you, we all look forward to reading your new book, now on sale at the back of the room, where John will be pleased to meet and greet you.
Note Poem written by John Irving Clarke in his 2016 book ‘Listening to Owls’.
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