Creative, Quirky, and Friendly.

What inspires you?

The world around me, my friends and family, speaking to other creatives and seeing their amazing
work and perspectives, music, and my younger self.

Tell us about your worst ever gig?

Honestly, I don’t think I’ve had one. I may get a little weak in the knees, and my hands may shake,
but nerves are normal and can be overcome with more practice!

What’s your number one poetry pet peeve?

I’ve been trying to think but I don’t think I have one… I feel like with poetry, it’s nice to just take in the words of others.

Whose words do you love at the moment?

I recently went to a show and I have to say Terrell The Artist, he was great. Not poetry related, but Matt Haig, I read one of his books and really connected with the words in the story. It actually inspired a piece I wrote not too long ago.

What piece of advice would you give to your younger self?

To keep going, keep believing in yourself and don’t let the world around you discourage you from
trying and showing up as YOU. Everything works itself out in the end! (Sometimes slowly but always surely) Also, to share your work, girl don’t be afraid (valid even now – but I’m self aware on that).

Which two companies would you like to be sponsored by and why?

Oooo, I would definitely have to say Intax. I’m an instant camera lover ( if you know me, you know!) I take that camera EVERYWHERE, it’s the photographer in me, so it would only be right to be
sponsored by them and to be able to share amazing memories and stories.

The other company I’d love to be sponsored by is Wingstop lool I’ve just always envisioned myself
hosting an event and Wingstop sponsoring it. It will happen all in good time! Plus their ranch j’adore <3

About Kai

Kai is a multidisciplinary artist working across photography, video, mixed media, digital art,
writing, and poetry. Through visual storytelling and direct, honest writing grounded in her
perspectives, she explores thought-provoking themes and lived experiences.

Alongside her creative practices, she produces and facilitates workshops and events that bring people and communities together.

Insta: @justkyleyy

I started Door-to-Door Poetry in 2015 in Newcastle upon Tyne. From 2019 to 2020, I secured Arts Council funding to take the concept to 12 places across England. In this time, I spoke to hundreds of people and wrote a total of 64 poems.

If this is the first time you’ve ever heard about this, I imagine you’ve probably got some questions. But I’m going to conveniently skirt around those for now, because I want to focus the subject of this blog post on the technical side of the process; on the way going door-to-door has affected my writing and the lessons it has taught me about making meaningful poetry.

Because there is an attitude, seldom uttered but ever-present, that writing poetry for other people is cheap- that it is more noble and righteous to only ever write poetry for yourself. Like many of us, I have been guilty of viewing commissions as the work that ‘needs’ to happen, so as to allow me the time and space to make my ‘real’ poetry at a later date.

But I have learned through being a Door-to-Door Poet that there are many benefits to embracing the process of writing for others, ones that go much further and deeper than the scope of this one project. I want to argue here that, through meeting strangers and writing for them, there are a lot of useful skills we can develop and a lot of valuable insights we can make, experiences which broaden our perspective and help us to become more fully-rounded writers.

The first and most obvious benefit of writing poems for other people is that you learn a lot. When you start knocking on strangers’ doors and asking what’s important to them, you very quickly become acquainted with the magnitude of your own ignorance. On my first few outings as a Door-to-Door Poet, I met a surfing enthusiast, a highly unconventional doctor, a bonsai tree expert and a judo champion. Whether it was a discipline, a skill, an emotion, or a life experience, everyone I spoke to had their own specialist subject. It was usually something I knew very little about.

I came to appreciate that this was a very spontaneous way of forcing myself to be more curious. One of the most rewarding examples of this was meeting a man called Sami in the west end of Newcastle. He asked for a poem about Islam. Not knowing very much about the subject, I decided to visit a mosque for the first time in my life. I had a fascinating conversation with the local Imam there, who spoke about the relationship between poetry and the Quran. I came to really enjoy the little rabbit holes this project could lead me down. It was a reminder that everything, if we view it properly, is an opportunity to learn and to grow.

But before we can really learn anything, we need to know where to find it. And the second insight I gained from writing for lots of other people is that it makes you a better listener. Assembling poems on my own, my default setting up till this point had often been to try to persuade the reader, to cajole them into seeing the world through my eyes.As the Door-to-Door Poetry project took shape, it became clear that this wasn’t about persuading anyone, or trying to demonstrate how clever I was. It was about listening and holding the space until I found an earnest moment of connection.

It’s amazing where this can take you. One woman in Bensham, near Gateshead, originally told me she had ‘nothing interesting to talk about’. She went on to detail the story of how she single-handedly rescued her entire family from a housefire, carrying both of her children, one on each shoulder, before running back in to drag her unconscious husband from the flames. Later, in Moss Side – Manchester, a man who asked to be referred to as The Specialist started off by talking about the architecture of council estates. He ended up comparing me to an 18^th century time traveller and asking for a poem about that. None of these conversations would have happened if I had entered the process with any objective. Whether we are writing for ourself or for others, we can always benefit from taking the time to listen more closely.

The third, and perhaps the most memorable, lesson I have gained from Door-to-Door Poetry is that every poem is a collaboration. As time went on, I came to see that the conversations I was having, and the resulting poems that came out of them, existed as part of a partnership. On the most basic level, these poems could not have been written without both me and the person on the doorstep. In every encounter, we were working together, brainstorming and sketching out ideas in a short but meaningful relationship.

But the more I experimented with this way of thinking, the more I came to see that this isn’t just about Door-to-Door Poetry. The fact of the matter is, whether we choose to accept it or not, every poem is a collaboration: Between your current self and your past self. Between you and the subject you are observing. Later, between you and an editor, or a proofreader, or a reader. At any given stage, if we look close enough, we can see that what we are making cannot happen without some degree of interdependence.

This might seem like a simple idea, but embracing it can have a profound effect on your approach. The spotlight is shifted from the ego. Writing is no longer about ‘my thoughts, my idea, my poem’. It is about us. Our shared experience. Our feelings. Our lives. It is, I believe, an example of what the Buddhist teacher Thich Nhat Hanh called the state of ‘interbeing’- the idea that none of us exist in isolation, that we are always in a relationship with everything around us. 

Writing for other people doesn’t have to happen on a doorstep. It can take place on a bus, in a café, in the workplace or at home. Wherever it is happening, it can pass on very valuable skills for us as writers. As we begin to listen more closely and to put the idea of collaboration into practice, we can move away from lecturing, or excessive erudition. We can move instead towards a desire to make a genuine connection in our work, to express ourselves in a way which is inclusive and engaging. The resulting poetry is, in my experience at least, all the better for it.

About Rowan McCabe

Rowan McCabe is a poet and performer who has written for Channel 4, BBC Radio 3’s ‘The Verb’ and the National Trust. His work has been featured in the Guardian and on BBC Breakfast. He has toured across the UK and has appeared at Glastonbury Festival and the Royal Albert Hall. Rowan’s first full-length book, The Door-to-Door Poet, was published by Eye Books in September 2025.

www.rowanthepoet.co.uk 

buy the book

Authentic
Bubbly
Positive

What inspires you?

Cool, creative people. I take inspiration from everything and everyone but I find myself being
more inspired by the cool creatives I know, see or come across.

Tell us about your worst ever gig?

Hosting a corporate event with a scarce audience. It’s always difficult when you are faced with hosting a space for people in a corporate setting with low numbers and things/agenda/schedules don’t go to plan. It’s a real test to pull off something amazing in the midst of chaos and make it work as best as you can.

What’s your number one poetry pet peeve?

Performers that completely disregard open mic slot timings (e.g. A 3 minute open mic slot
turns into a 10 minute performance) as a pet peeve of mine.

Whose words do you love at the moment?

Big Scoop
Rae Zoe

What piece of advice would you give to your younger self?

Everything will work itself out. Trust and have faith and KEEP AT IT!

If you could be fluent in a language you do not know, what would it be and why?

Spanish – I’ve always admired the language and can even speak very basic but I would love to
revisit it and learn a lot more!

about Ellis Witter

I’m an Actor, Writer, Producer, Model, Author, Poet, Presenter and overall creative who has
starred in projects like ‘Amani’ ‘Sick (Mental Health Short Film, Reggie Yates’s ‘Make Me
Famous’ as well as an NCS Advert entitled ‘No We Can!’. I am also an experienced presenter with experience hosting award shows, corporate events, master of ceremonies, podcasting, talk shows, live/street Interviews & various social media clips garnering millions of views. I am also co-publishing a book and co-directing a theatre play both called ‘Stories Boys Don’t Like To Tell’ which is a collective of deep insightful stories that positively address numerous traumatic events and how we have dealt with/overcome them, premiering a 15 minute show at Theatre Peckham on October 12th for their ‘Young, Black & Gifted’ Scratch Night Showcase. Lastly, I have self-published 2 poetry books, “Deeper Insights” – A collection of expressed feelings and nurtured articulations of a young male’s feelings & “Serenading Seasons” – Lover Boy’s Don’t Die, both available to purchase worldwide on Amazon

Insta: @kingellisw

I was looking forward to working with The Onoma Circle, a collective of poets and artists I’d set up during my first residency. I was looking forward to meeting Phil, a skilled bronze caster, whose family had served the kings of Benin for over 6 generations. I was looking forward to hosting two events I curate: Redacted (a black-out poetry event) and The R.A.P Party (a poetry and music event). I was looking forward to eating my weight in Nigerian food, and soaking my skin in Vitamin D. I was looking forward to to an extremely busy week discussing literary and visual arts, and above all, so seeing ‘Nigeria Imaginary: Homecoming’ – the Museum’s first exhibition.

In 1897, Britain invaded, destroyed most of Benin City and looted most of its stores and altars. Outside Nigeria, the city is synonymous with this tale of plunder and colonial violence. But for me, it city holds a simple filial softness. It is where my father grew up, where my people are from, one of few corners of the world I can partially call home. I was looking forward to playing in my father’s city, on my motherland.

From the tiny airport in Benin, I was planning to go directly to the Museum Of West African Art (MOWAA) when I received a text. From a friend at the museum, the text simply told me not to come. That it wasn’t safe. Roughly 40 protesters had stormed the museum chanting their allegiance to the traditional ruler of Edo State, the Oba of Benin. The protesters had robbed and beaten up merchandise sellers, thrown tables and chairs across the premises, insulted guests, donors, artists and ambassadors who had flown in from across the world. Standing at the airport, I felt a number of things: shock, surprise, horror and deep embarrassment. But in the weeks after, as the dust settled, I learnt that all this had been a long time coming. 

The tens of thousands of items looted from Benin in 1897 were scattered across numerous museums and private collections in Europe and the Americas. Some stayed stationary, behind closed doors, encased in glass. Some were installed proudly outside buildings as if talismans of British conquests. Some were shipped from exhibition to exhibition as colonial-era curiosities. Some were even shown in museums on African soil, but never in Nigeria, and never in Benin. Some exchanged hands for hefty sums at auctions, and all the while, the Oba and the people of Benin watched, insulted, as their cries for justice and restitution were ignored, and their treasures toured the world.

Eventually, the Republic of Nigeria threw its weight behind the Oba, and united, began calling for all that was stolen to be returned. As their voices grew louder and began to gain traction outside of the country, within the country, there were disputes over whom they should be returned to. The Nigerian government argued the items belonged to the republic, to the people of Nigeria as whole. But the Oba believed they belonged to his kingdom, his family, to him personally, and wanted the treasures placed within his palace grounds. This clash between modernity and tradition, between the republic and the kingdom, halted attempts at restitution, a stalemate that meant western institutions could keep the loot for longer. The dispute brewed and boiled for so long, that even after the Nigerian Government stepped back and announced the Oba as the true custodian of all that was stolen in 1897, the atmosphere remained charged, as if a storm cloud, dark and ever ready to burst.

And this is what I waded into, pen in hand, foot in mouth, asking questions that poked at the clouds, searching for answers to spark poetry as the protesters attacked and shut down the exhibition.

John Keats once descried poets as the ‘midwives of reality’, the suggesting being that we pull ideas from what MIGHT BE into what IS. So, perhaps on some subconscious clairvoyant level, I tapped into what would unfold weeks later, because during my first residency, I didn’t ask the poetry collective to write about MOWAA. Instead I asked them to write, imagining their OWN museums.. 

But what is a poem if not a glass case? Isn’t a collection a small museum? What is a memory if not a looted item? Aren’t many books in scattered collections? Many stationary, behind closed doors? Or showcased proudly, as if talismans of conquests? Aren’t rare editions exchanged for hefty sums at auctions? I asked the collective what they would preserve in their museum, who they would invite to their opening, to imagine a visitor and to ask them questions. Below are some lines taking from their poems:

Elvis Ehimen Izamase:
In this museum’s heart, do you find the key
To understanding the essence of a legacy?

Eghonghon Grace Imuetinyan:
Don’t you think stories
Are gateways to histories?

Tracy Ohovwore:
Aren’t you a pawn of the white man? 
Didn’t you trade the comfort of your tradition?

Benita Oseremi Obajuobalo:
Did you feel how culture sits on the tongue—
heavy, sweet, untranslatable?

Efetobore Michelle:
Did it sound melodious, or was it discordant?
Did it expose the conflict in my identity?

Joseph Omoh Ndukwu:
Do you then ask why I have built you this place
On the edge of a city that fell to foreign powers? 

As I write this, MOWAA is closed, and will remain so for an indefinite period. Despite all that happened, my relationship with The Onoma Circle is blossoming. I secured a huge commission for them from the Ethnographic Museum of Zurich, Switzerland. They have items from Benin they will repatriate this year. And my collective are  currently writing poems for each one. 

My next collection, titled ‘Of All The Boys’ will feature many poems about my trip to Benin, and many of them try to encase what haunts me still: the stuff of storm clouds – a shifting mist of questions.

Inua Ellams
FRSL, FRSA.

About Inua Ellams

Born in Nigeria, Inua Ellams is a poet, playwright & performer, graphic artist & designer and founder of: The Midnight Run (an arts-filled, night-time, urban walking experience.), The Rhythm and Poetry Party (The R.A.P Party) which celebrates live literature and music, and Poetry + Film / Hack (P+F/H) which celebrates poetry and film. Identity, Displacement & Destiny are reoccurring themes in his work, where he tries to mix the old with the new: traditional African oral storytelling with contemporary poetics, paint with pixel, texture with vector. His books are published by Flipped Eye, Akashic, Nine Arches, Penned In The Margins & Bloomsbury.

The LeftLion Literature Editor at the time, James Walker, handed me a commission to review a show by a spoken word collective called Mouthy Poets. I’d never heard of them, but I was hungry for anything and everything. Secretly, I’d already been scribbling away for years – poems on receipt paper during bar shifts, scraps of verse in staff rooms, email rap battles with telesales colleagues. I’d even dragged a mate to an open mic at Hotel Deux and nervously read out some lines of my own. So when this gig came up, I was intrigued.

That night, twenty-odd poets took turns stepping up to the mic, weaving in and out of each other’s work. Hip-hop beats stitched the evening together, with a flow of poetry that was equal parts raw, playful, and polished. The space buzzed. The words felt alive. At the end, a curly-haired woman in baggy jeans and trainers bounded onto the stage with a clipboard, inviting people to get involved with the collective. Her name was Debris Stevenson, the founder of Mouthy Poets and, though I didn’t know it yet, the person who would help to shape the next decade of my career.

Discovering the Collective

Friday evenings soon became sacred. I joined the collective, notebook in hand, free-writing in circles of poets who encouraged risk-taking and imperfection. We stood up, tried new voices, shared freshly written work on the spot. We mapped out showcases on giant sheets of paper, scrawling with Sharpies, testing out collaborations, making mistakes, laughing, and, without realising it, building friendships.

Mouthy didn’t just teach us to write; it taught us how to craft. We workshopped rigorously, giving and receiving feedback. We experimented with form and performance, exploring how movement, props, sound, and lighting could elevate a poem. We learned to think not only as writers, but as producers and educators.

And then came the visitors. Giants of the poetry world, Roger Robinson, Malika Booker, Hannah Silva, Dean Atta, Patricia Smith, Caroline Bird, who ran masterclasses, retreats, and workshops. We shared stages with them, exchanged ideas, and felt the impossible become possible.

One year, through a cultural exchange programme, we travelled to Karlsruhe, Germany, to collaborate with our sister collective, Löwenmaul (Lion Mouth). We wrote poems, took contemporary dance workshops, and swapped stories late into the night. Later, they came to Nottingham. It felt like poetry could take you anywhere.

From Mouthy to GOBS

As Mouthy alumni, many of us carried the torch. Some launched performance nights, others became Young Poet Laureates, festival organisers, or workshop leaders. I myself started being invited to perform and facilitate. For the first time, poetry wasn’t just a hobby, it was a vocation.

But collectives, like people, have lifespans. After a few luminous years, Mouthy disbanded. The scene, once electric, simmered down. By then I was Editor at LeftLion, my energy poured into producing a monthly magazine. Still, the seed had been planted. During an interview for a Writer-in-Residence role at Nottingham Trent University, I mentioned my dream of starting a new collective. Sandeep Mahal, then Director of Nottingham UNESCO City of Literature, lit up at the idea. To my amazement, I got the role. When the residency was over, NTU provided start-up funding for the beginnings of GOBS Collective.

Side-by-side with the brilliant Ioney Smallhorne, supported and mentored by John Berkavitch, I launched a five-week education programme: recruiting new members, learning together about poetry, creating an anthology, and building towards a performance showcase. We managed two in-person sessions before the world shifted into lockdown. Suddenly, we were running everything online: writing workshops, rehearsals, feedback sessions. Later, we ran a second online cohort and eventually produced our first live showcases: Full Moon and Earth.

We’ve been lucky to have regular support from Apples and Snakes, who haven’t only provided funding but also advice, encouragement, and moral support. Their belief in us has helped GOBS grow into a sustainable, long-term presence in the city’s cultural landscape.

Finding Sustainability

Over time, we learned the importance of building a ‘spine’ of activity: the minimum heartbeat of the collective that could continue even without funding. That spine became four seasonal events, ranging from cosy winter pub socials to outdoor summer workshops, anchoring us through the year and celebrating the cyclical changes in nature. Around them, we could build more ambitious projects if energy and funding allowed.

In creating sustainability, I’ve discovered the importance of considering how a collective can feed into individual creative practice. Ioney and I launched GOBS Poetry Book Club. It started as a way to finally tackle the unread stacks of poetry collections on our shelves, but quickly became a communal ritual. We met in venues like Mimm Studios, Broadway Cinema, and eventually found a home in Nottingham Central Library. We read aloud, discuss, debate, and write new work inspired by the month’s book.

Then grew another experiment: GOBS Sunrise Sessions. I’d always dreamed of being an early riser, catching the quiet magic of dawn, but never managed it alone. So I set up a regular Zoom space: I had to open the room, so I had to get up. Together, we breathe, stretch, free-write, and set intentions in rhythm with the moon cycle. It’s become not just a practice for me, but a shared ritual supported by GOBS member Sarah Wheatley, and an accountability anchor that links personal growth to communal creativity.

The rhythm of community

Running GOBS has taught me as much about sustainability as it has about poetry. Collectives thrive on energy, but energy alone isn’t enough, they need rhythm. A balance of push and pause. A structure that can withstand burnout and shifting circumstances.

For me, the rhythm of GOBS now echoes the rhythms of life and nature: seasonal events, lunar cycles, the daily rising of the sun. These rhythms don’t just sustain the collective; they sustain me. They remind me that poetry isn’t only about performance or output; it’s about presence, breath, and connection.

Because ultimately, GOBS isn’t just about poetry. It’s about creating a sustainable space where voices can emerge, collide, and resonate. A space that gives what Mouthy Poets once gave me: not just words, but the courage to use them.

Moving forwards after an incredible 2025

​​This past year – our fifth year – has felt like a gentle widening of the circle. We’ve taken GOBS into new spaces, running workshops with a youth centre, a school, and a local charity supporting people with brain injuries. We’ve worked closely with Shadow Poets in this, creating space for others to learn how to deliver work, to hold space, and to build confidence doing so. We’ve also spent time sharing skills within the collective, running masterclasses in workshop facilitation and event hosting, so that the skills, energy and responsibility don’t sit with one person alone.

One of the real highlights was spending time together at Arvon: sixteen of us eating, walking, writing, dancing, and learning in the countryside alongside Anthony Anaxagorou and Vanessa Kisuule. Following that, publishing masterclasses with Bad Betty Press. All of which fed directly into Constellation, a performance showcase where sixteen individual poetry pamphlets were launched at Waterstones Nottingham. None of this would have happened without the care and encouragement of Apples and Snakes.

As we look ahead, we’re trying to loosen our grip a little by reshuffling our organisational structure. We want to let the Collective lead itself more fully, to share power, trust the group, and allow things to grow in unexpected directions. We want to tend to the partnerships we already have, and slowly reach outwards too, perhaps towards other collectives across the UK, and maybe beyond, learning from each other, swapping stories, seeing what might be possible together.

In January 2026, GOBS will come together to reflect on the year that’s just passed and to imagine what comes next: we’ve been gathering and holding onto the ideas we’ve heard from our members, and are ready to play. We’re stepping into the next year with curiosity, compassion, and a shared intention to keep wellbeing at the heart of everything we do. It’s a tricky thing to build sustainability in the current climate, but we’ve now created a community that I’m sure will grow into pathways we can’t even imagine yet.

Follow: gobscollective.org

About Bridie

Bridie Squires is a writer, performance artist and producer from Nottingham. Founder and Director of GOBS Collective, her work spans across poetry, playwriting and journalism, and has been featured by BBC Radio 4, BBC Sounds and LeftLion Magazine. She has performed alongside Holly McNish, Lemn Sissay and Linton Kwesi Johnson, and has appeared at We Out Here festival. Her debut collection Duck on Bike was self-published in 2023 and her one-woman shows Casino Zero and Chaos Casino premiered at Nottingham Playhouse in 2023 and 2025 respectively.

Follow: bridiesquires.com | @brizzaling

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It’s that time of year when we do a ‘quick’ round-up of all things Apples!! 

Big news for 2025 saw us going back to our roots and reclaiming the idea of performance poetry being what we are all about. Exciting times ahead!

As ever, we delivered loads of amazing work with a brilliant range of partner organisations and fabulous poets, with work happening everywhere from Bristol to Birmingham to Bradford. We worked in schools, libraries, at festivals, venues big and small, online and from a converted horsebox (Ivy).

Supporting and developing performance poets across the country is at the heart of what we do. For example, this year Associate Artistic Director Ty’rone worked with Coventry based poets and Belgrade Theatre on Playing Poetry.

“Playing Poetry is a talent development project all about exploration and play in performance poetry; how to make poetry pop and come alive on stage. This year saw ​​four emerging performance poets from Coventry work with four nationally established performance poets over the course of four weekends. The focus was on performance techniques, stage craft, movement, voice work, embodiment of the work etc. The poets worked with Miss Yankey, Jasmine Gardosi, Bradley Taylor and John Bernard. Resulting in a showcase to a sold out audience at Coventry Belgrade Theatre’s ‘See It First Festival’”

In 2025 we also delivered:

• Words A Stage 2.0 for early career poets, a series of online workshops and a week-long residential at Arvon
• Artists’ Retreats, bringing poets together to recharge, build connections and develop skills
• Scratch Lab with early-career poets in South London experimenting with group performances
• Online workshops to push craft and build community
• Enfield Young Producers – a Poet in The City programme upskilling the next generation of producers

…and supported UniSlam and Gobs Collective in Nottingham with their artist development programmes.

We launched ON:LINE our new winter masterclass series which runs until Feb 2026, still time to join: Book here!

Our podcast went visual! You can watch it here via our Youtube channel and we continued our partnership with the students at Elstree Screen Arts with more Blackbox.

We were delighted to be a partner with the Wandsworth, London Borough of Culture programme delivering a project in 10 primary schools to 300 Year 5 children as well as another 1200 children and teachers who attended. Our live SPIN performances were also part of the Schools Poetry Festival.

WORDCRAFT, our poet-in-residence programme in Ealing, came to a close – with teachers, children and poets all saying what a great project it had been.

“It was kind of magical, that memory is going to last my whole lifetime” – Year 6 Participant, Dairy Meadow Primary School, Southall

Libraries continued to be one of our favourite places to hang out. Our Saturday morning programme Telling Tales taking place as part of our Libraries Out Loud programme supported by John Lyons Charity.  In August, our Library Takeover project saw young people devise and produce an event with Brent Library Services.

We said a fond farewell to PLOT17, our hip-hop eco-show for children, which came to an end in 2025. For over 4 years it was on the road, delivering 77 shows in 12 locations, reaching over 7000 children and families. Ivy, our converted horsebox van is now off to new adventures!

And finally, keep a lookout for our announcement about our legendary night Jawdance, which, after 15 years at Rich Mix, is heading to a new home in Spring 2026!!  

I’ll end with a heartfelt thanks to all our funders and partner organisations:

ACE, John Lyons Charity, The Fenton Arts Trust, London Borough Of Wandsworth, London Boroughs of Wandsworth, Camden, Ealing, Brent, Hammersmith & Fulham, Kensington and Chelsea, Westminster & Harrow, Arvon, Rich Mix,  Belgrade Theatre, Mason & Fifth, Lyra Festival, Gobs Collective, Unislam, Young Identity, Birmingham City University, Ealing Learning Partnership, Lewisham Looked After Children Services, Stanley Arts, The Albany, Elstree Screen Arts, Fire and Dust and the BBC Contains Strong Language Festival.

And extra thanks and love to:

• All the amazing poets that we have the privilege to work with 
• Our fabulous trustees who give up their time and expertise to support the organisation so brilliantly
• Binita, Annie & Secoura @ The Space inBetween 
• Ahmed & Anthony @ D237 
• The Apples and Snakes team: Ben, Daniela, Iman, Janet, Marcelle, Mark, Natalie, Rob, Robert, Russell, Sarah, Ty’rone & Yelena for being awesome 

With love,

Lisa 

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Our Anarchy – Salena Godden

I’m daydreaming, how I might slow down and mellow
with age and write easy poetry about the happy little
dog on my knee and the pale lavender sky and the
soft snow. How maybe, one day, I will stop writing
so much protest poetry, stories soaked in trauma and
rooted in our grief, our anarchy, our hopes for
humanity, but then I remember I live and write in
the 2020s and the world is frightening and I am me
and here we are. Still, I often wonder what poems
we’d write in a more peaceful time, in another reality,
another era; work made from a place of freedom
and creativity and not in response or defence, nor
in anger or fear. Oh my loves, what dreams we dare
to dream, what beautiful books we write. Imagine
what art could look like, our theatre and music, what
lyrics we’d sing that were about anything but this
brutal and divided world. Oh, to create in a safe and
gentle space, a kind and listening world. Oh, to write
poems about how I love the happy little black dog,
so warm, sleeping on my lap, our breath rising and
falling together, the sky outside my window, lilac
and dove-blue, soft snow falling, and feel that love
and peace within me, how wonderful it would be to
live just like this, and write without a shadow.

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Using multiple artforms to engage young people with Care Experience.

I’d love to say my arts practice was forged in fire. It sounds good, doesn’t it?  It makes my arts practice sound tough. It’s not tough (is anyones?) but it is resilient.  

My creative journey began in metal bands, rehearsing in barns and organising gigs in village halls where brutal sludge acts performed under tapestries of saints, and amplifiers were stored in the pantry between sets. I then ended up in Brighton, where I was absorbed into a healthy hip hop scene, having been drawn over to the lyrical side by Dizzee Rascal and Roots Manuva. This involved lots of freestyle, and lots of battling. It was chaotic, unpredictable, and required a thick skin. And then I found poetry, where the chaos was lyrical, but not confrontational. Where audiences really listened and the variety of voices from the stage was inspiring.  

When I emerged on the poetry circuit, I was lucky enough to find myself working with Lewisham Children’s Services and Apples and Snakes, working with Care Experienced young people on a project called  Write Speak Feel. The sessions were chaotic, dynamic and full of warmth. We produced poems, songs and wrote a book. After the project I was honoured to return to host a number of award ceremonies and saw young participants grow into confident and articulate adults. 

My work with Care Experienced young people continued with Lewisham,  Virtual School, The Fostering Network, and in 2019 I established an interdisciplinary arts program, The Nest.  

The Nest program was designed alongside participants, and brought in artists from all mediums to collaborate with a group of Care Experienced young people. We had drummers, filmmakers, jewellery designers,  photographers, charcoal artists, painters, and everything in between. It was brilliant, and it was chaotic. We managed to maintain a sense of consistency with a solid team of facilitators and a single, cabin-compatible suitcase: ‘The  Suitcase of Dreams’. This was a suitcase brimming with art materials that we installed as an alternative to a breakout space. We situated The Suitcase of  Dreams just out of the way of the main workshop and if a participant needed some time to themselves, they could go to the suitcase and create freely.  ‘The Suitcase of Dreams’ allowed our participants to self-regulate without leaving the workshop space. Whether they returned to the main activity or not, they stayed with the session and created something the group could celebrate.  

When we expanded to set up cohorts in Bristol and Newcastle, the suitcase became a prerequisite to any Nest session.  

Outside of The Nest, I was regularly delivering creative writing workshops for young people with organisations including Apples and Snakes. One writing residency found me working with a group with a variety of needs, which I was struggling to meet with traditional techniques. I observed that certain participants were displaying adverse responses towards the act of writing; At the moment of putting pen to paper, it would kick off. I needed a new approach.  

In this particular group, there was a high percentage of Care Experienced students managing low literacy levels that are common with interrupted education and high levels of trauma. I realised that many of the students had complex relationships to their handwriting, or spelling, or met insurmountable difficulty shaping words on a page, or even a laptop. Drawing on my experience with The Nest, I began exploring new approaches to creative writing. I developed simple art exercises that I could direct with poetry prompts. I found visual art tasks that I could interrogate to create poems. I started to incorporate these new approaches and found students were less explosive, more engaged; it was working.  

The new interdisciplinary approaches sidestepped the potentially triggering act of writing and allowed a more embodied engagement with creativity.  

I saw an opportunity. Through my relationship with Lewisham CICC,  Apples and Snakes, and The Fostering Network, I had seen how challenging it can be to access young peoples’ thoughts around experiences of care. My idea was that by using these interdisciplinary techniques we can take a  trauma-informed approach to discussing difficult life experiences. I approached Apples and Lewisham and they were up for a tentative experiment. We began with an open poetry-and-painting project with the awesome Keeler Tornero, which gamified abstract painting and encouraged participants to dance on their canvases! And once we’d had some success with the approach, we ran a zine-making workshop in collaboration with brilliant zine artist, Liz Bell, exploring participants’ thoughts and ideas around being in care. It was a gorgeous session, characterised by warmth and unpredictability. And when the group came together at the end of the workshop, we were able to have gentle and insightful conversations. Participants’ thinking had already taken place in the creative process, and so we could enquire about the art, not the young person’s potentially traumatic life experiences.  

I used to wonder how I ended up working so regularly with Care Experienced young people. For a while I attributed my path to the rap skills that were so useful in engaging high-energy boys in literary devices. But upon reflection, I think there was something about resilience, and comfort in chaos, that served me better than even my GOAT-level rap abilities. Chaos can be overwhelming, but there is so much space for everyone within it. It allows for all ideas to be included. And there is something in these new approaches, combining embodied arts practices and poetry, that leans into this chaos, draws it in and harnesses its energy to ensure everyone feels like they can belong. 

Adam kammerling

Adam Kammerling is an award winning poet, theatre maker and educator.

His most recent works include Seder, his debut poetry collection which was a finalist in the National Jewish Book Awards, Shall We Take This Outside, a three-person spoken-word/dance theatre show that toured nationally, and Inside!, a piece of poetry/rave theatre commissioned by Centrepoint and the Saatchi Gallery.

A highly experienced educator, he has created spoken word and theatre with emerging poets, musicians and circus practitioners at the Roundhouse, The Albany and Pentonville Prison.

Insta: @adam_kammerling

– Enthusiastic
– Curious
– Camp

What inspires you?

– Hip hop
– Community
– Eavesdropping
– Eating desserts
– Being able to have two dinners because I can
– Surprising myself with what I create
– Other people taking something from a piece I’ve work I’ve created that I hadn’t thought about.

Tell us about your worst ever gig?

Honestly nothing terrible has happened really apart from me getting in my own head.

What’s your number one poetry pet peeve?

People apologising profusely before they read!

Whose words do you love at the moment?

The last book I read was Strange Beach by Oluwaseun Olayiwola & ‘my mother raised a normal man‘ I think is a perfect poem!

Shearlings debut album Motherfucker: I am both Amen and hallelujah I think sits at a very cool intersection of poetry, music and theatre and I think the lyrics are great! Saw them live recently and wen through every human emotion.

I recently went to a talk about the history of camp trans by a trans butch woman called Sadie Crabtree. I really enjoyed her talking about how activism has shifted in the age of social media and how we can use how our actions and language in more intentional ways. I also just think its rare to hear about the history of something like that in person amongst people who all share the same identity. Was neat and cool!

What piece of advice would you give to your younger self?

You were right all along, congratulations you’re a boy, go be one it’s gonna be okay!

Beach or mountains?

Mountains! My mums side are all hiking enthusiasts which meant I’d be dragged along to 3-5 hour hikes when I was like ten.

Also sand is terrible! So small!

raY VINCENT-MILLS

Ray is a poet, performer, (paper)maker and facilitator based in Birmingham.

BLACK, trans, queer & grateful Ray writes out of compulsion and opportunity to reframe his experiences in abstract ways. 

He has performed internationally and finds it funny and pretty cool that words are his job.

Insta: @raymondowrote

Calm, Honest, Determined

What inspires you?

Going to the theatre, particularly going to watch new-writing. I feel inspired by shows that
push boundaries when it comes to story-telling. Particularly companies who mix different
art forms and find new ways to connect to audiences.

Tell us about your worst ever gig?

This is a hard question because even the bad ones can be memorable for the right reasons.
The first time I played Glastonbury I forgot a verse of a poem I have that’s got a count down
in it. I got to ‘6’ and just sort of breathed heavily into the mic until I found my way back for
‘5’. It strangely sort of worked in the end.

What’s your number one poetry pet peeve?

When I know the rhythm of the line but I can’t find the right words to fit. Seems so basic but
it’s definitely a pet peeve for me, my inner critic gets loud when I cant find the right words
to say what I want to say, because it seems so simple.

Whose words do you love at the moment?

Loyle Carner. I’ve had his new album on loop since it was released this summer. He’s an
artist who I keep coming back to at different stages of my life. Also Olivia Dean, I’m enjoying
the Art of Loving.

What piece of advice would you give to your younger self?

Chill out baby Moll! You can’t control the outcome of everything you throw yourself into.
Breathe deeper and just slow down a bit, there’s no need to rush.

If you invented an ice cream flavour, what ingredients would it have, and what would it be called?

Pluff: Nougat, malt and a tiny bit of salt.

Molly walker

Molly Walker is a poet, actor and theatre maker from East London. Her passion for storytelling and performance has led her to share her poetry with audiences all across the world.  Her writing uses a comedic lens to explore themes of queerness, class, identity and self-discovery.

Molly has performed her work at The Barbican, The Roundhouse, Glastonbury Festival, Fridaze, Homemade, Kendal Calling and toured with The National Theatre. She was recently listed as a ‘Rising Star of 2024’ by The Media Eye and has been a headline artist for poetry nights with Process Productions, Small Sharing’s and The National Youth Theatre. She has also created 2 short films of her work which can be found via her social media.

Insta: @mol.walker
Company: @commonground_ldn
Website: www.mollypoet.com

Loyal, passionate, conscientious – as described by my sister (after a little convincing)

What inspires you?

I’m inspired by women who turn challenge into strength, by those who choose grace
over resentment, and by the quiet resilience that endures without applause. I find
beauty in growth that unfolds softly, in ideas that bring light to others, and in the
strength it takes to stay kind in a hurried world. I’m moved by those who carry grace
through heaviness, by art that whispers yet lingers, and by kindness that asks for no
witness.

Tell us about your worst ever gig?

I have not had a bad gig yet (luckily)

What’s your number one poetry pet peeve?

The number one poetry pet peeve for me is when authenticity is traded for relatability.

Whose words do you love at the moment?

I have recently been reading Dorainne Laux work, she writes about ordinary life with
such tenderness and precision. Her poems feel lived-in and very human.

What piece of advice would you give to your younger self?

To slow down, enjoy the process, you will get there – this advice is still applicable

What would you title your biography?

The Kurdish Girl – I can’t think of a more fitting title

Nigeen Dara

Nigeen Dara is an NHS doctor and writer based in the North of England. She is
currently working on her debut collection of poetry and prose. Nigeen’s creative work
draws on her Kurdish heritage to explore the themes of identity, war, immigration,
and womanhood.

In 2023, she was named a BBC Words First finalist, and she has contributed to BBC Radio’s Between the Ears programme. In 2025, she was selected as a New Northern Poet, joining a cohort of emerging writers to lead workshops, record a poetry podcast, and perform at the Ilkley Literature Festival. In addition to her creative work, Nigeen designs and leads creative writing workshops for students and health professionals.

Insta: @Nigeeenn
Twitter: @Nigeendara

Curious, bold, imaginative.

What inspires you?

God. The world. Other people; other artists, and their art. Good questions. 

Tell us about your worst ever gig?

The audience were quiet, but the background noise in the venue was quite loud. I felt tense and so silly because it was a headline I was really looking forward to. I wore a big fluffy hat and I just felt like sinking into it. It was quite late and so everybody was pretty tired. Sometimes they’re just not feeling it!

What’s your number one poetry pet peeve?

Dramatic pauses for the sake of it.

Whose words do you love at the moment?

Warsan Shire. Ismatu Gwendolyn. My dear friend, Arifah. 

What piece of advice would you give to your younger self?

Believe in yourself every step of the way!

If you could live in any fictional world, which one would it be?

It’s between Earthsea and the Dr Seuss universe. Earth kingdom gets a shoutout too.

Chloe Tenesha Giles

Chloe Tenesha Giles aka TENÉSHAS is a poet and spoken word artist originally from Bristol, based in London, and of Caribbean descent. Her work has taken her across the UK to facilitate and perform, and in 2025 she reached the finals of the Roundhouse Poetry Slam. Her work explores the bridge between inner and outer worlds. She believes in the Baldwinian idea that “the intangible dreams of people have a tangible effect on the world” and uses her poetry to question the worlds within and around us. Chloe is just getting started in her journey; she aims to take her work to big stages and new pages as she continues to develop her craft. 

Insta: @chloe.tenesha

Curious, Honest, Unpredictable.

What inspires you?

As cliché as it sounds, my experiences in life really do inspire me. Also, there are these times
in the day when the red leaves sparkle under the sunlight or when it rains and the skies are
grey, it reminds me of home. So, nostalgia also inspires me quite a lot and movies as well! I
love watching movies especially slice of life films because it helps captures the mundane and
I love exploring the mundane moments in life and writing about it.

Tell us about your worst ever gig?

My worst gig was at this competition, and I was testing out this new piece by heart. I forgot
the lines midway and froze for a minute or two, but it honestly felt like the longest minute of
my life, and I just kept going. From that moment onwards, I have always read out from a
paper but now I am trying to get back my confidence on not relying on the paper as much.

What’s your number one poetry pet peeve?

Hmmmm, I think when the poet uses too much complicated words or the way the sentence is
done. For example, if the flow of the piece is too fast, I can’t understand the meaning of the
piece and I zone out because it goes too fast in my mind. Personally, I like poems with
structure and story, so sometimes I also struggle to understand very conceptual pieces.

Whose words do you love at the moment?

Right now, I am bit out of touch with poetry, but I am liking Fariha Roisin and Sophie
Chauhan’s works right now. I have gotten back into reading fiction lately because for the past
few years, I have been reading nonfiction. So, right now I am loving fictional works which I
am taking inspiration from. Right now, I am hooked on Katabasis by R.F. Kuang and loved
reading The Clothesline Swing by Ahmad Danny Ramdan.

What piece of advice would you give to your younger self?

The piece of advice I would give is never stop grabbing for the mic on the stage. Whatever
opportunity you get, always grab the mic and make your voice heard because your voice
matters and people like your work, if not all, even some will like it. Do it for yourself.

Who would play you in a movie about your life?

When I was young, I always imagined Emma Stone playing me if there were ever a movie to be made about my life but now, the answer if Nazriya Nazim. She is one of my favourite Malayalam actors in the Malayalam film industry and ever since I saw her in Bangalore Days, one of my favourite movies of all time, I knew she would be the one I want to play me.

Roshni Marath Jairaj

Roshni Marath Jairaj is a writer of prose, prose poetry, and creative non-fiction. Her work explores the everyday rhythms of life, paying attention to the small, fleeting moments that often go unnoticed. She is drawn to writing that lingers on the mundane, finding meaning in ordinary gestures and encounters. Alongside this, her work engages with themes of identity, migration, and belonging, reflecting the layered experiences of moving across places and cultures. Roshni’s writing moves between intimacy and reflection, capturing both the delicacy of personal memory and the wider emotional landscapes of diasporic life.

Insta: @its.poetcat
Website: https://itsroshni.substack.com

– Succinct
–

What inspires you?

I’m inspired by this idea that one day, my future grandchildren could be digging through a
cobweb-filled attic, long after I’ve passed, and find an old box labeled ‘Why I Was Put on
This Earth’. And after blowing off the dust, they search through the box and find the work I
have published, and recordings of my performances. They would barely be able to tell it was
me.
“God, she looked so pretty back then.”
“I guess we know where I get my good looks…”
Then after an afternoon of discovering this life I had lived long ago, they could come back
down the stairs and after a moment their kids would come running up to them and ask “You
were up there for ages! Did you find any old and cherished memories of great grandma Astrid?”And my grandkids would share a glance, and then laugh, and whisper to each other “Honestly I can’t imagine anything more embarrassing than being a poet, let’s just keep this whole thing to ourselves, shall we?”

Tell us about your worst ever gig?

Not exactly a gig but recently I was in an uber and the driver asked me what I do for a living
so I said “oh I’m a comedy poet” so he says “ok hit me, give me a poem, make me laugh.”
My mind went completely blank so I just tried to explain the plot of Robots (2005) and pass
it off as my own material. I was able to pass off the weird names by just insisting that my
“friends” (the characters of the hit movie Robots (2005)) were all nonbinary and chose
obscure names so people wouldn’t assign them a gender based of off their names alone.
Anyway, all was going well until we got to the scene in the boarding house and when I insist
to this uber driver that I know someone called “Aunt Fanny.” Uber driver goes crazy, starts
laughing his head off. He turns around to me and says “you ain’t half bad, y’know that
Astrid?” and I say “shouldn’t you be keeping your eyes on the road?” And that’s the story of
the second time my poetry got me into a car crash. Sorry, what was the question again?

What’s your number one poetry pet peeve?

(This one isn’t a joke answer)
People not giving trigger warnings when covering sensitive topics. Yeah, I know I have blue hair & I look like the kind of person who gets annoyed by this kind of thing but come on. You as a performer may have gone through a traumatic experience. And you may find that you get a lot out of writing and performing poetry about said traumatic experience, so the least the audience can do is sit through you talking about something when you’re the one who had to go through it, right? No! This opinion is bad and self-centered and does not anticipate the possibility that someone who you are performing to may have JUST gone through a similar experience, and might not necessarily want to be confronted with that right this second. Or maybe they do, but give them the option ahead of time to decide that for themselves. Trigger warning your work. No it isn’t “spoilers”

Whose words do you love at the moment?

For poetry I keep coming back to my good friend & cohost (big up @PrettyPrivilegePoetry)
Memory Bhunu. Before reading their pamphlet Memory Flowers I had little appreciation for
poetic form, but as it increasingly becomes of interest to me, their work is something I just
keep on coming back to.

For comedy, Tim Key’s Chapters is the thing that has really helped me figure out exactly how
absurd I want to and am allowed to be in my own comedic writing.
For life, I really love Baz Luhrmann’s Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunscreen). It’s a song that
would come on in the car a lot growing up that I had somewhat forgotten about until
recently, but in the past few weeks its done that thing where something that you used to
think about just keeps coming up in conversations seemingly out of nowhere? I love that.

What piece of advice would you give to your younger self?

I suppose it depends on how much younger? If she’s 18 or below then I’d probably just say
“hey you’re actually a girl, go use your parent’s credit card to buy oestrogen on the dark
web”. If she’s between 19 and 22 then id say “hey you have ADHD, go use your flatmate’s
credit card to buy Adderall on the dark web”. Any older than that and I’d probably tell her
that eating breakfast is good actually – and maybe slow down on stealing other people’s
credit cards.

What three items would you bring with you on a deserted island?

1. A big tarpaulin to go over the sand (I hate the feeling of sand)
2. A bunch of large blankets to go over the tarpaulin (I hate the feeling of tarpaulin)
3. A notebook to write in (which I would then immediately regret because I forgot to
   ask if I could bring a pen to write in it with)

Astrid solace

Astrid Solace is a transgender comedy performance poet from Birmingham. Her work
explores the absurd, the queer, & the lies she tells herself and others. She is the Producer &
host of the Birmingham poetry night Pretty Privilege Poetry, with which she writes & directs comedy sketches to announce event headliners. She is currently writing a one woman show titled Bye-Bye Bathrooms, and is also writing a short film highlighting the inadequacies of UK transgender healthcare. Astrid is about to commence a Masters in Creative Writing at University of Birmingham.

Insta: @astridsolacepoetry

Part-time philosopher/ full-time goof

What inspires you?

Everything really – family, friends, the people I’m in community with, the moments I witness
day by day that feel like more than what they are.

Tell us about your worst ever gig?

It was an event I was invited to read at – the event wasn’t really advertising me or about
me, I mention this just to make myself feel better about what I’m about to say. Only 1 person came, so I was reading to that person and the 3 organisers. There had been quite deep conversation and it had to be cut short so I could read. I felt way too awkward to actually stand up and perform – the space also wasn’t set up to make that easy but I was being paid to read and I actually wanted to so I did so awkwardly in my chair. The funniest bit is that I brought a bunch of my pamphlets hoping to sell them and left with exactly the same amount I’d arrived with.

What’s your number one poetry pet peeve?

People who come just to perform and then leave. I get it if you’re travelling from city to city
and have to catch the last train, but if you want people to give you their time and attention
as an audience member, you have to be willing to give it back.

What are your favourite words?

Fickle (I love this word all the time), incongruent, fleeting, juxtaposition, still, booky, MAD!

What piece of advice would you give to your younger self?

It all comes together in the end. You won’t be able to see how till it does, but it will and it
will keep coming together forever because nothing is fixed.

If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?

This is a really mean question. I’m gonna do breakfast, dinner and dessert. Breakfast – eggs
and toast, but the eggs need to have a little something, like chilli, tomatoes, onions, seasoning etc. Dinner – OXTAIL! I love oxtail so much… Dessert – Zimbabwean mangos or just mangos from a country like that. The ones that when you bite into, the juice dribbles down your chin…

Memory Bhunu

Memory Bhunu is a Zimbabwean born poet and creative raised in the Black Country. Their
work is deeply confessional. They began their poetry career in the University of
Birmingham’s 2019 winning Unislam team. Since then, they have headlined at most of
Birmingham’s poetry nights and performed with Tell It to the Music for Birmingham Festival

They were selected to be a member of Verve Poetry Press’ Collective 23/24 cohort.
Currently, they coproduce and cohost, Pretty Privilege Poetry, a poetry open mic night in
Birmingham. Their debut pamphlet, Memory Flowers, was published by Fawn Press in
March 2025.

Insta: @memorythehumxn