Hive South Yorkshire

Repping Hive at One Mic Stand Poetry Slam, Manchester…

The vibrations coming from the DJ booth echoed out like the nerves in my chest. I was here to represent Hive and South Yorkshire at One Mic Stand poetry slam, competing against young poets from poetry networks across England. And in Manchester, a city I’d never been to. But was I prepared for the action?

Indeed, I felt as if I were a lone ranger battling against the barrage of my own thoughts. But here I was, feeling less combat, more drama. The first thing I noticed was how diverse and inviting the audience was. It felt like a great cross-section of life in the UK and all in an arts and culture setting. Enter stage right, the Sacrificial Poet (Skye Lilly) last year’s winner, returning to the platform to deliver the contestants from their own versions of bravery. The performance was absolutely mind-blowing. Skye spoke of connections and communications, the essence of what it is to be human. Her words were lexical literacy. Hearing and watching her perform was like breathing pure air after being submerged under water.

After a roaring applause from the audience, we entered the Intro-Round. Up first was Nara Rasool, who mentioned being a trained actress. Nothing could have prepared me for the way I felt experiencing Nara’s performance. Every word, every phrase, was packed with pace and emotion as she spoke about the tragedies of the attacks in Gaza. But that night, we surely felt an atomic piece of it.

The judges held up their scores out of ten: Nine! Nine! Nine! And then… me. I stood up, and I smiled, took a deep breath and walked up to the stage as if I owned it. I wasn’t just doing this for me, I was doing it for Doncaster.

When I got up to the mic, I held the stage for a second, and a hush fell over the crowd. Once I took a deep breath, I felt a sense of serenity, like somehow, I got this. I delivered a poem that was very close to my heart, about being in your 20s in the 2020s. It related to growing up in this economy to a disastrous night out.

As I reeled off my metaphors in rhyme, I heard finger clicks of agreement from the audience, and even from the MC “…the lack of job security is really nothing new to me, you call it social purity, I call it an abuse you see…” My jibes at the system were felt across the room, and you could cut the tension with a knife. As I ended on “black out, then you wake up, saying you have been spiked, babe? Just take the damn kebab, I ain’t comin’ out tonight!” I heard a burst of applause from an audience I hadn’t ever met. The warmth of creative community spread through me. But it wasn’t to last…

As I exited stage left, the judges held up their scores for content: Seven! Six! Six! For performance: Seven! Eight! Six! My heart sank a little. Would I make it to The Battle Round with a 6/10? I tried to hide my feelings with a smile, because I truly did my best.

The night went on. We heard beautiful and authentic poetry from the other young competitors. I tried not to focus too much on the numbers, and kept a smile beaming from my face. And, you know even though I didn’t make it to the second round, I still had an excellent experience and very much appreciated it.

In the words of the MC, the points are not the point. The point is indeed the poetry. I participated, and I got treated like my words were important (my travel and even a very nice hotel were also paid for). But most of all, I got to share and hear heartfelt words from talent stretching across the nation. What more could I want?  I came last… but I also came first. Because I was there.
……
Youth slams and experiences like the one I had are so important for young poets developing their talent and networking skills. Being in that space reminded me how vital creative community platforms are, and how much they matter. I run an open mic in Doncaster called Scribes and Vibes, and the night truly inspired me to keep building it, to keep creating spaces where voices can be heard, supported, and celebrated.

A huge thank you to One Mic Stand, Hive Young Writers Network, the Forward Prize Young Poets Network and for making this opportunity possible. Shout out to Tolu Agbelusi, Vicky Morris and an incredible One Mic Stand audience for their support and encouragement.

Molly Eroje
Photo courtesy of photographer Alex Morgan

If you’re in Manchester, check out One Mic Stand here

And if you’re in Doncaster, check out my night: Rhymes n Vibes rhymesandvibes.co.uk

Comedy, Class and a Week to Curtain

Becoming a Student Playwright by Lilly Ryan

A year ago, I started writing up ideas for a play called “The Devil Went Down to Parliament”, with a plan to eventually pitch it to the Sheffield University Theatre Company (SUTCo), if I ever managed to get it finished. Right now, it’s a week before show week, and I could not be prouder of how it’s turned out.

As a writer with a major preference for comedy (I’d get bored of writing a full-length work that didn’t have room for laughter), The Devil Went Down to Parliament is a political satire with absurd humour to contrast with a more serious sense of foreboding that begins to build.

Being from a working-class background and a low-income area of Doncaster, I wanted to explore themes of class and privilege. While writing the script, I had been listening to a lot of music with political themes such as that of Seb Lowe, who notably puts on different voices in his songs to create different personas (such as in “Terms and Conditions”, where an exaggeratedly upper-class persona counters his normal Mancunian accent). Inspired by this idea, I wanted to create characters for the play that put on different personas. For example, one character, Justus Morton, comes from a working-class background but shifts into an upper-class persona to impress his peers when making it in politics.

As the director, one of my absolute favourite parts of rehearsals so far has been working with actors to try out different accents and ways of presenting themselves in regard to switching the personas that their characters put on and take off.

During my first year as an English and Philosophy student at the University of Sheffield, I studied Christopher Marlowe’s Dr Faustus, and was inspired by the way absurdly humorous plot points (such as Faustus turning invisible and stealing food from the Pope) were purposely used to distract both the audience and Faustus from his hellish fate, which arrived by the end of the play, cutting straight through the light-hearted tone of its previous scenes.

I enjoyed this idea of contrast between silly, laugh-out-loud entertainment and more stark warnings, perhaps reflecting how political and societal issues are downplayed and ignored by those who are unaffected until it’s too late to do much about them. When I watch the news (and I’ve found recently that not watching the news seems to be great for my mental health) I find myself stuck between feeling helpless and defeated versus feeling that there is always something more that can be done. These are feelings I’ve tried to get across in the second act of the play to contrast the humour and gags of the first act.

Working with the cast and my assistant director has been such a brilliant experience so far and we’re all excitedly anticipating show week. Please come along if you’d like to experience the chaos for yourself.

The Devil Went Down to Parliament will be showing on the 12th, 13th and 14th of March at the University of Sheffield Drama Studio, Shearwood Rd, Broomhall, Sheffield S10 2TD. Tickets can be found here.

Lilly Ryan is a student at the University of Sheffield, an emerging writer and an alumnus of Doncaster Young Writers

From Sidelines to Summit: My Forward Prize Weekend

It was my second time attending the Young Poets Summit and Forward Prize events, the last being in 2023 in Leeds. Once again, I enjoyed it immensely, but this time I was challenged to step out of the sidelines in several exciting roles. Not only did I perform alongside poets from other collectives at the Southbank Centre after the summit, but I also had the huge honour of being a Forward shadow judge, and I got to interview one of the shortlisted poets, Juana Adcock.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t question my sanity and why I’d signed myself up for so many challenges, but the Forward Prize events, and my experiences within them, have made me appreciate the breadth of what poetry can be and do, and that I have something to contribute to the conversation and with my poetic voice.

I was reminded that the distance between ‘emerging’ and ‘established’ as a poet is often imagined. You do the reading, you do the work, you show up prepared, and one day you find yourself in the room you’ve always belonged in, and it feels like a natural next step.

ON BEING A SHADOW JUDGE

Being part of the Forward Prize shadow-judging panel this year taught me very quickly that ‘good poetry’ is not simply about beauty or cleverness. Judges look for risk, emotional truth, and for poems that know exactly what they’re doing — and still dare to step over the edge. Reading the shortlisted works exposed me to a range of subjects I might not otherwise have explored.

It’s one thing to read poetry privately; it’s another to sit in a room where work is held to such high standards and to take part in that process. You think you know what you value in writing until you’re asked to defend it, articulate it, and challenge both it and yourself. Each category demanded a different entry point: language, form, craft, breath, performance, presence.

My internal criteria were put to the test. I had to know why poems worked, and why I thought X should win as opposed to Y. There was no hiding behind vague language or “I just feel like…”. This experience gave me a deep sense of what serious poetic engagement looks like how the cogs of the poetry world turn, what it takes to be recognised in the field, and the directions available to me as a poet. What’s more, it’s pushed me to raise the standard for my own work.

Being a Forward Prize shadow judge forced me out of my comfort zone. I left educated and deeply inspired.

INTERVIEWING JUANA ADCOCK

This was a standout moment for me. I’d just finished reading Juana’s Forward-shortlisted collection, I Sugar the Bones, so her language, her images, her way of thinking about memory, body, place, and inheritance were still sitting with me. It’s one thing to meet a great poet on the page, and something else entirely to sit across from them and ask about their craft.

Speaking to Juana added another dimension to her writing and to my thinking about the things we survive, the places we come from, the people we carry, and the ways we shape language into art. It also got me reflecting deeply on my own writing. Opportunities to chat like this aren’t common, especially for young poets still figuring out where they sit in the wider literary landscape. I thank the Summit, the Forward, and Hive for making this dream possible. I can’t wait for you to hear the interview below!

THE YOUNG POETS SUMMIT & FORWARD PRIZE CEREMONY

Attending the Young Poets Summit as well as the Forward Prize event felt like recognition, but also responsibility. I was representing my mentor, my network, my fellow Hive poets, the cultures I come from, my experiences but most of all, my belief in my poetic voice and my right to be counted as a poet. The day was alive with emerging poets from across the country. From panel talks to workshops, we mingled, scribbled, and chatted.

I was also lucky enough to perform my work at the Southbank Centre, and one thing I quickly learned is that how you define and introduce yourself matters regardless of how you currently see yourself as a poet. I write, and I’ve been published, but I’ve mostly kept my work hidden. Being part of this experience made me realise how much I’ve kept myself on the sidelines. There is a wider ecosystem for writers and poets out there, and I’ve been watching it all from the doorway.

When I introduced myself, when I performed, I said: “I’m not a performer, I’m more of a writer than anything else.” And the response I got repeatedly was: “Don’t say that about yourself. If you write, you perform. You are a performer.” That challenged me in a way I needed. It made me realise that sometimes the only thing separating you from the identity you aspire to is the narrative you tell about yourself.

Meeting other young and emerging poets at the Young Poets Summit, interviewing Juana, performing my work, sitting on that panel, and considering how poems exist in publication showed me the value of putting my work out there more. It made me rethink my own self-definition. Then attending the Forward Prize event was the cherry on the cake of an incredible weekend. Watching the shortlisted poets perform and receive recognition for their work felt different after experiencing the process behind the scenes. It was clear to me that these spaces are not distant. I cannot fully describe the feeling of being in those rooms other than being in a living archive among giants: friendly, amazing, and inspirational giants.

A big thank you to Vicky at Hive, Tolu at the Young Poets Summit, Lucy at the Forward Prizes & poet Juana Adcock for making all these rich experiences possible for me 💜 🤎 💜 🤎

Photos by: Neo Gilder