I first developed an interest for poetry during my teenage years. Whilst my friends were off gallivanting and drinking luminous coloured concoctions I spent many a weekend at my late Grandfathers house. It was here that I first became obsessed with British culture. My Grandfather was a great story teller in his own right and had an impeccable ability to paint vivid images about the tales he would tell. I spent many hours sitting with my Granddad listening to him recollect his days in the British home guard and working in a steel mill. Although to some this may seem a tad mundane it’s things like this that fuel my writing. I’m not interested in writing about four poster beds and stately homes for the simple fact that I’m just a regular working class lad from Salford. My Granddad taught me to be proud of my roots and to revel in my country’s past. Something that really grates me about British people today is the way they seem to have been brainwashed by our friends from across the sea. I can’t tell you how many people I have encountered with a phoney American accent. I hope when people read my poetry a sense of Britishness seeps through their computer screens.