Harry Gallagher grew up in Teesside in the 1970s and worked alongside the last generation who spent their lives “fighting iron”. Men bound by a common purpose and by the communities they lived in; where wives were mostly stay at home, raising the family; and whose children could expect to follow a similar path. Harry didn’t. He wrote poetry, but was too ashamed to admit it, so joined bands instead, writing lyrics. When he grew too ancient to harbour dreams of pop stardom he returned to his first love, poetry, and has since been published all over the place. He is a shameless performer and may even come and read for you should you ask him nicely.
Northern Lights is a celebration of this world, sculpted by industry and polished with grit now abandoned to archaeologists. Discover anew this tight close knit community as they were then and how they are now and of what they are truly capable of being.
“There are gems herein, where it was gratifying to encounter those who ‘hammered shape into giants’ (Ghost River) and she waltzing lovely on the surf’ (St. Mary of the lighthouse.)” ~John Hegley
“Harry’s poems are full of the natural rhythm of his accent, the invention of his dry northern wit and the conviction of his own truth, not afraid to stand its ground.” ~Henry Normal, Poet, Comedy Writer & TV Producer
“The spiritual and humanitarian successor to Adrian Mitchell.” ~Neil Fulwood, poet and publisher
“Harry Gallagher is a poet whose work will leave you breathless. Stunningly beautiful one second, brutal the next.” ~Robert Francis, poet & host of Permission to Speak, Stourbridge