Thursday 20 June 2024

A clutch of Manchester poets …. one library ……. and some bittersweet memories

It will be a full 55 years since I first walked into Withington Library and last night I was back in the company of some friends and a clutch of Manchester poets.


The poets meet once a month to share their poems, and I was there to listen to Rod Whitworth who I have known for over half a century.

Back a long time ago we both lived in Ashton Under Lyne, worked together and shared similar politics.

Since then, we have drifted in and out of each other’s lives occasionally meeting up to swap stories of grandchildren, books we have read and where in Manchester to get the best cheese barm.

And it was on one of those encounters that I discovered Rod was a poet, and an accomplished one as many of his poet friends have testified.

His book of poetry “My Family and Other Birds”, came out at the beginning of the year and my copy arrived not long after it was published.*

At which point I could fill the page with reviews but will add just one from Peter Sansom, poet and co-director of The Poetry Business who wrote “it's so compellingly written that it's also that rare thing, a poetry page-turner.  Wonderful."**

So, last night in Withington Library was a bit special, more so because the first part of the evening was given over to seven other poets who offered up a mix of  funny, thoughtful and elegant verse.

It is a long time since I spent the night listening to poetry read aloud and shared with an audience and I enjoyed it.

But the passage of time has done for my ears, and the combination of poor acoustics and gentle voices rendered some of the poems difficult to follow.


It was a bittersweet moment for someone who at the age of 19 could follow the hushed conversations of others across the reference section of Withington Library and made more so by wandering the nearby streets.

They say you should never go back to places and there is indeed some truth in it.

In that half century since I lived on Rippingham Road, so many of the haunts I used have gone, from the Scala Cinema, the White Lion, and the telephone kiosk which was the link with home along with the launderette that haven of wet Sunday afternoons.

That said the house on Davenport Avenue is still there. 

It was home to my friend Lois whose parties were legendary, one of which had me sitting perilously on a low roof in an effort stop Mike and John driving off into the night on a quest to settle a silly disagreement with someone whose name I have forgotten over a quarrel which has faded into the mists.

It could have been the subject of an epic tale of love, angst and alcoholic fuelled evenings to rank beside the Trojan Wars, The Lady of Shalott and the tangled story of Bathsheba Everdene and her suitors in Hardy’s Wessex.

But that would be stretching it.

Best leave such themes to the poets.












Location; Withington Library


Pictures; a clutch of Manchester poets, 2024, from the collection of Andrew Simpson

* My Family and Other Birds, Rod Whitworth, 2024, is available from the author at rod.whitworth@me.com or Vole Books,  https://www.dempseyandwindle.com/rodwhitworth.html

**The Poem Man, https://chorltonhistory.blogspot.com/2024/02/the-poem-man.html

1 comment:

  1. Great memories indeed! I had forgotten how much poetry we read ourselves - not counting lectures etc, but in various bedsits and flats, and in Central Ref.

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