Books like Collected Poems, 1951-1975

I have always loved literary thriller queen Daphne Du Maurier's complex and resilient characters, and Mary Yellan is no exception. Everything’s looking pretty miserable for her after her mother’s death forces her to give up the family farm and her hometown to live in a creepy inn with her miserable aunt and aggressive drunk of an uncle.

So I really enjoy how brave and resourceful she is in getting past violence, danger, miserable living conditions, a desolate setting, and bad taste in men to find out whether something more sinister than smuggling is going on at the empty inn.   

Ninety-year-old Marvellous is a river goddess, her whole being is immersed in a Cornish creek, she lives in a caravan beside the water and loves a swim.

Marvellous lives on in my imagination. Nature is an organic part of the novel, time and seasons move with the tide; the reader knows it is spring because the ransoms (wild garlic) are out. I love rivers, they wind their way into my own writing, West Looe River is often my muse as a poet. 

I met Sarah Winman when I stumbled upon her book signing at my local bookshop. I only had enough money to buy Marvellous Ways or shoes to wear to an awards ceremony that evening. I realized no one would notice my old shoes so I bought the book and loved every page.

Cornish Folk Tales takes the reader on a journey into the heart of Cornish Storytelling.

I have listened to Mike O’Connor many times and he is a master storyteller. I love the Cornish Droll telling tradition; droll tellers went from place to place telling tales for a bed and a bite to eat. The narrators of Cornish Folk Tales, blind droll teller Anthony James and his guide young Jamie are a perfect combination.

Mike O’Connor, through Anthony tells the tales with anecdotes, music, history, and Cornish language. This book taught me how to approach folklore retelling in an accessible way.

Reading I felt myself beside the firesides of Cornwall, listening to tales of dragons, mermaids, giants, and saints; puzzling over riddles, and learning about Cornish traditions and music

Enys Tregarthen’s tales have bought Cornish magic into every home for a hundred years.

I have spent a lot of time with her books and retold many tales in my book. North Cornwall Fairies and Legends is a basket full of piskeys, (the Cornish fairy folk.) One of my favourites is the Piskey’s Revenge, which I retold for Cornish storytelling project Mazed. It is illustrated by Steven Lambert, and used in Cornishibai street storytelling.

It tells how Granfer accidentally digs up the piskey beds, in revenge, the piskeys eat all Granfer’s birthday biscuits. Enys writes about the children of Cornwall and what they encounter: they meet piskey friends up on the moors, little stone figures come alive in towns and aways there is an excuse for piskey mischief.

When you're living in the sterile, gleaming world of a fertility clinic, I’m not sure there’s a more inviting landscape to disappear into than the poetry of Mary Oliver.

I find something so moving and hopeful—almost meditative—in the lyricism of her language and the beauty with which she renders the natural world. What a lovely place to live, even for a few hours or a few pages.

I actually considered borrowing a line from one of these poems for the title of my book. 

Czesław Miłosz was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1980. But that isn’t the reason to seek out this book. In fact, the book contains none of his poems; it’s an anthology of poems he selected from across the ages and across the globe. The poems are idiosyncratic to Miłosz’s taste—and he has excellent taste, offering us brief personal header notes to guide our reading. Most of the poems are less than half a page long, none more than a page and a half—and some just a handful of lines. These are delicate, thoughtful poems that never become syrupy or stringent. Even after decades of reading poems, I’ve returned again and again to this book when I want to remind myself of why I turned to poetry in the first place.

I love how crystalline and to the absolute point these poems are. “Where do I begin/being a minimalist?” the poet writes. These poems make me see the world in a fresh but very relatable way. “What would I/think, coming/up after/my world/had evaporated?/I’d wish/I were water."

So much said, so few words. The longing is implicit. This book is home to breathtaking lyricism–as well as narrative poems of mystery, loss, and wonder. It is a book I keep coming back to.

I love this dazzlingly original collection, which evokes a childhood in rural Cumbria. Jackself is the title character, but there are plenty of other Jacks in the poems, too – Jacks from nursery rhymes and folklore and English legend.

Jackself is a mostly solitary boy, and the poems take us into the strange, funny, frightening world of a child who lives on the edge of nature, sometimes seeming to become a feral creature himself. I was struck by the startlingly wild and fearless imagery of the poems, which make the natural world a darkly compelling place. 

After photographers, poets have the sharpest eyes for the goings on and minutiae of life around them.

I love Szymborska’s poetry because with her, I walk down unknown streets, I eavesdrop conversations, I dissect a terrorist bombing. If photography helps open your eyes, Szymborska’s intimate yet vast vision opens a higher mind. She shows me life through her eyes: often puzzled, sometimes bemused, but always loving.

I love Map as it’s a generous collection of her luminous works with her last poems. Map is the final poem; it closes with the lines "… they spread before me a world /not of this world," which aptly sum up her gifts to us. 

Bukowski had a unique perspective on the world, and anyone who has read his work would most definitely agree. This book, which is a collection of some of Bukowski’s greatest pieces in my opinion, has a way of resonating with you on a personal level. Whether it be gaining a newfound perspective on the animals that scurry around our yards, or of a gambler wasting away in a casino on a Monday afternoon, Bukowski has a knack for bringing up the world’s problems in a way that is both depressing and humorous at the same time, while also giving peeks at his wit and charm as well.