By Leah Matthews, Third Year Classical Studies
On Monday, 28 April, Bristol took part in its most violent fight of the calendar year: The ‘South West Poetry Showdown’. Forget punches, swords, and lightsabers, this battle was fought with a far more powerful weapon: the spoken word. The prize? Regional poetic dominance and a trophy no bigger than a thimble.
The competition was fierce, with Weston-Super-Mare, Clevedon, and reigning champions Exeter lining up as opposition. The Showdown is a key event in ‘Lyra’, Bristol’s annual poetry festival, which powerfully showcases and celebrates the art form in a city where creativity isn’t a pastime but a lifeblood, pulsating through its streets, its stages, and its people. Named after the Ancient Greek lyre - an instrument that once accompanied early western poetry - the festival spills across Bristol’s eclectic range of venues. While there was no lyre accompaniment this time, the stage - representing more of a battlefield - was lit by the warm ambience of the ‘Wardrobe Theatre’ in Old Market, and an audience alive to every word. Hosted by the charismatic Sophie Shepherd, the ‘South West Poetry Showdown’ delivered an evening of howling laughter, powerful introspection, and a glorious celebration of the spoken word.
The rules were simple. In the first half, each team of three poets performed solo pieces, and the audience voted for their favourite team. During the interval, teams were given a theme and had to collaborate on a new poem to perform in the second half, with another round of voting to follow. I abandoned my civic duty to my university city for one night only, determined that the best wordsmiths would be victorious.
The majority of the evening's poems leaned closer to stand-up comedy than solemn reflection. Rhymes, rhythm, and relentless profanity sent roars of laughter ricocheting through the theatre. Even the night’s most sobering piece was upstaged by an elderly audience member’s unceasing android ringtone, filling in for the absent lyre for what felt like an eternity. From menopause to seagulls, the thematic range was spectacular, and the quality consistently impressive.
It was endearing to hear civic pride adorned with rhyme, and existentialism unpicked through the gold dust of the English language. The first part of the evening closed on a wickedly wonderful note, courtesy of Exeter’s Edward Tripp, whose poetic muse for the evening was Buckfast Tonic Wine. Belfast-born and Devonshire-inhabiting, Tripp surrendered fully to his Irish bloodline, signing off by downing half a bottle of Buckfast on stage - an outrageous yet fitting finale to a line-up of eccentric bards whose words the audience seemed intoxicated by.
After the break, we reconvened to hear the poets’ group pieces, responding to the theme: ‘If it all works out’. While still entertaining, the second half naturally lacked the polish of the prepared performances, a reminder that true art cannot be manufactured on command. Still, the buzz from the first half carried through, and it was time for the final vote.
I betrayed Bristol and cast my ballot for Exeter, a team consisting of the aforementioned method-acting boozer, a manic mother of three, and a sheepish rhyming prodigy, who had thoroughly stolen my heart. But it was Weston-Super-Mare who ultimately took him the glory, and the tiny trophy, led by a spokesman whose promise to ‘stick it up his bum’ perfectly encapsulates the elevated diction that gilds the ‘South West Poetry Showdown’.
‘Lyra Festival’ runs annually at the end of April and the beginning of May. Be sure to check out their wonderful spread of events next year!
Featured image: Leah Matthews
