Born in Surrey in 1940, I studied at Leeds University where I edited Poetry and  Audience and learnt 
 much from Geoffrey Hill, Jon Silkin, Tony Harrison and G Wilson Knight. After teaching in African 
 and German universities, I settled in Newcastle in 1971 where I am now professor of poetry at the 
 University of Newcastle. Through the seventies I edited the Second World War poet Keith Douglas 
 and published a biography of him (OUP, 1974). In the mid-eighties I published The Truth of War 
 (Carcanet, 1984) on the poets of the Great War and reviewed contemporary poetry  for Stand.

 Since my poems appeared in Bloodaxe's Ten North East Poets (1980) I have published various 
 pamphlets and four full collections: The Lie of Horizons (Seren, Bridgend, 1993), The Marching 
 Bands (Seren, 1996), Not Falling (Seren, 1999) and After Shakespeare (Flambard, Hexham, 
 2001; translated into Polish as Cien Makbeta, Gdansk, 2002). The poems in 
 After Shakespeare are drawn from people living in the West End of Newcastle and 
 portray the varied moods of inner city life - its pungency, neglect and energy. Much of my work 
 deals with people and places and is political. East European writing has greatly interested me, 
 making a significant part of my Poetry of the Second World War: An International 

 Anthology (Chatto, 1995). I have co-translated from Polish the poems of Anna Kamienska: 
 Two Darknesses (Flambard, 1994) and my life is divided between Newcastle and Germany. 
 If much of my writing life has been devoted to anti-war writing, my recent work has often 
 been love poetry of various kinds, including a forthcoming collection of Milena Poems on 
 my daughter's first twelve years.
 


Hop-scotch

 When you played hop-scotch
 tossing the stone forward
 I helped mark out the grid;
 I went first at your insistence,
 lurched sideways
 as if one foot in a net:

 you laughed then sprang,
 your legs dividers
 opened out then back,
 a jig, a jiggle, and one leg
 flipped you,
 tiddley-wink into a pot;

 ‘Do it again! Do it again!’
 and you did, so many times
 the edges blurred like vapour trails
 then vanished
 where you had flown
 Across my map


 Eleven

 The one arm of the sea-saw
 tips over; one foot
 is about to land
 into a new boat;

 she is on the team choach
 surrounded by bubbles of laughter 
 from frenzied companions,
 off to the match;

 she is Thursday
 looking to Friday
 and the whole easy evening
 of everything starting;

 she is snowdrops and crocus
 not yet daffodil and far
 from lilac and chestnut
 through definitely in flower;

 she is right at the top
 of the runway, motors
 purring, checking the dials
 waiting for clearance,

 the near planes all
 with their purposes,
 far ones high overhead,
 ready for that moment

 when full blast as a rocket
 she roars towards no end,
 hedge top, houses,
 and has to take off

 and eases herself into air
 and hangs there, rising.