A poetry society that claims Tennyson as an early member and that lists Sir John Betjeman and Cecil Day-Lewis as past presidents launched its latest anthology on Wednesday night, while "an unholy trinity" of performance poets later demonstrated the breadth of Cheltenham poetry festival. Cheltenham Poetry Society’s Beyond the Well-Mapped Provinces includes work by David Ashbee, Robin Gilbert, Sharon Larkin, Judi Marsh, Michael Newman, Stuart Nunn, Gerald O’Shaughnessy, Michael Skaife d’Ingerthorpe, Sheila Spence, and Roger Turner, and is of a very high standard.  The packed audience at the launch upstairs at Cafe Rouge listened to the poets that read in respectful silence, with hardly even a murmur of appreciation between poems.

A performance poet who stumbled inadvertently into such a gathering might object that all the poets there were of a certain age and class – as, indeed, they appeared to be.  But so what? Poets are poets, whatever, wherever, all trying to get their voices heard, and sell their books, if they have any. And passionate. And ruthless.

We heard that Sharon Larkin’s poems Blackthorn and Nightshade were about revenge and jealousy.  Stuart Nunn confessed that all he was really thinking about when trying to resuscitate a neighbour was what a good poem it might make. Roger Turner seemed only half-joking when he said he was too impatient to listen to other people read. He also maintained that often poets would rather concentrate on shape and sound, rather than “bother with that rather dreary business of having something to say”.

I often prefer to look at the work of local poets, rather than established ones. Perhaps, as someone at the same level, I relate to them more, am more interested in their CVs, where they have been published, how far they have got.  The poems in this anthology are excellent. But I have to particularly commend those of retired nurse Sheila Spence, often about water, including her wise and compassionate Salt Water; Submerged, about the flooding that regularly assails Gloucestershire; and Waiting, likening a new baby to a starfish.

VIVE LA DIFFERENCE! Onwards to hear "an unholy trinity" of three performance poets - thus introduced by festival drector Anna Saunders - in the basement of The Strand. Words Escape Me’s Salford rasp inevitably  draws comparisons with John Cooper Clarke; as he is the first to say, he’s much cheaper to book than JCC.  He gets the Cheltenham jokes out of the way straight away, claiming that even the town’s rough sleepers have Gucci shoes. Words Escape Me lives in York, but usually delivers his poetry in tougher towns and cities. His politics are leftwing, but his anger is often nuanced: attacking the Daily Mail view of benefit claimants in Don’t Look Down, and those who are politically active only on social media in Too Many Fingers And Not Enough Feet. Let’s Celebrate is his focus-on- the-real- issues take on Thatcher’s death, a poetic subject that has caught fire and is only now beginning to die down on Write Out Loud.  (“Me mum told me never to hate anyone.”) Words Escape Me, aka JB, has a profile and poems on Write Out Loud. Check him out. Earlier on the Strand bill James Webster entertained with hilarious, drawn-out , and occasionally full-on encounters with a succession of versions of himself from the future and past in Fifty Shades of Webster,  while Dan Holloway, bearing more than a passing resemblance to Allen Ginsberg, delivered romantic paeans to hedonism, tinged with sadness, in homage to his Beat Generation heroes.   

FOUR PERFORMANCE POETS at the top of their game rounded off an event-packed evening at the Cafe Rouge on Thursday. The four – Theo Theobald, Ash Dickinson, Fergus McGonigal and Eley Furrell – delivered a series of rapid-fire sets that made me belatedly realise that at its best, this is an art form that entertains, questions, and is, at the end of the night, festival gold. Earlier we had assured, crafted poetry from Pindrop Press’s Alicia Stubbersfield and Cherry Smyth, plus the independent publisher’s founder Jo Hemmant, and a remarkable hour of film and poetry, staged by Helen Newbery and Chaucer Cameron, in the afternoon at Oxfam.

MY FIRST FESTIVAL BLOG this week opened by praising the singing performance of Joy-Amy Wigman. I’d like to wrap up my coverage - the show goes on until Sunday night but I have to return to my Write Out Loud desk - by lauding her performance poetry skills. She has a warm, engaging personality, a good range of material, and is unfraid of occasionally mentioning her own health problems. Definitely one to watch for the future.  Another star of The Smart Move spoken word cabaret on Thursday night at the Cafe Rouge was Helen Gregory, originally booked for the festival’s last night party performance, but who stepped in with a set taking in brilliant poems originally composed for family weddings and funerals, after two other Helens were forced to drop out at the last minute. More than all right on the night!

You can read more about the festival here