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A new breed of bards is bringing Welsh poetry kicking and screaming into the Nineties. Oliver Hurley grills Blackwood muse Patrick Jones on life, love and being related to a Manic Street Preacher.  Portrait by Rob Watkins.

Poetry may not necessarily be the new rock 'n' roll, but that doesn't prevent it from being passionate, relevant and - shock! horror!   - even exciting.  Let's face it thought, for most of us, poetry is little more than obscure, highbrow, irrelevant and, ultimately, boring.  fortunately, there's more to poetry these days than the likes of Gerard Manley Hopkins' dappled things.  For evidence of this, you need look no further than the new wave of Welsh poets.  Blackwood's Patrick Jones is one of them.

If you have difficulty with - or simply a sheer lack of interest in - established Welsh poets, you are not alone.  "I find it really hard to see why people read their work - it just seems so irrelevant and so mundane and egotistical," says Patrick.  "There might be a generation after the likes of myself and Lloyd Robson who might despise our writing, so I think that's an ongoing process.  But I really don't think many established Welsh writers are even read outside of Wales.  It's so safe, so placid.

"There seems to be a very distinct clique that you are ostracised from if your poetry is angry, culturally attacking and relevant to modern life.  There's a big body of poets at the moment who are having to publish themselves.  All these established writers don't seem to want to take risks.  Who is being put forward as representing Welsh poetry is very dubious to my mind."

He was first attracted to writing while studying at Swansea University:  "I lost myself in literature - I just got so obsessed with the idea of writing."  Coming across the Beats - Ginsberg, Kerouac, et al - played no small part.  "It was like they were always there waiting for me to discover them because I was so inspired.  They made writing suddenly seem exciting, romantic even.  It gave you the confidence to say, 'I enjoy writing.  I can have a go as well.'  My dream was to write, but I knew I wasn't good enough then - not that you ever are, but you grow."

His latest self-published collection, Mute Communion, purports to embrace the difficulties of modern inter-connecting relationship, combining nihilism with a sense of optimism.  His unique use of language, staccato rhythms, and distinctly post-modern subject matter give the book a freshness, an urgency and a readability that has, until now, been all too rare in Welsh poetry.

"The idea behind it is that the more technologically advanced we get, the more of a struggle it becomes to communicate with one another, the more silent we become.  But there is a hopefulness of being able to join together in some way.  It's almost like a piece of music that starts off with this feeling of despair but reaches some sort of epiphany at the end where there might be unity," he explains.

Despite having had guitar lessons in his younger days, Patrick never aspired to being in a band ("I'm not photogenic enough!")    Instead, he left that to his younger brother, Nicky Wire, lyricist, bassist and gob of the Manic Street Preachers.  "I always had faith in them because they were always a band, not just four individuals.  They believed totally in what they were doing and that's half the battle," he says.  Although Patrick surfaced briefly on their first album, Generation Terrorists, with spoken-word introductions to two songs, there are no plans for any future collaborations with the band.  "Perhaps me and Nick bounce ideas off each other but he's his own writer and always has been - he's very sure of what he wants to write.  The odd line of mine appeared in some of their songs, and sometimes I'll borrow ideas or symbols in my writing, but we're very separate in our work."

And while you may find it nigh on impossible at the moment to avoid the 'Yes for Wales' campaign, Patrick questions what effect a Welsh Assembly would actually have.  "It's about time we had more of our own say, but I'm not sure how much of a say we would actually have through it.  What would frighten me is who's going to get elected - would it be the old idea of the Taffia Crachach, would it be too claustrophobic?  I think it's dangerous just to say if you don't speak the language you're not Welsh.  I do find that a little bit nauseating.  I'm quite apprehensive of any form of nationalism that may stem from it," he says.  Patrick also has some less-then-kind words for current flavour of the month, 'performance poet' Murray Lachlan Young.  "I detest anything to do with Murray Lachlan Young.  I wouldn't even call him a poet.  I don't think he's doing anything for poetry because what he's saying isn't really relevant.  I suppose to see any poet on a CD cover is one good thing, but I'd rather see someone who is a poet first and not an MTV personality.  I would rather see poetry stand on its own without having to compromise.

"If we could cross the bridge to make cultural and psychological insights passionate and biting then I think poetry could reach a lot more people:  there's no reason why it can't be accessible, exciting and dangerous."