Hannah created the Lost Souls poetry nights and always videos the poets.
Later sharing the recordings on Instagram as a lovely way to honour their work. The best part of this is you can hear Hannah’s “hmmms” and “wows” as the poets speak. Little offers of love and support throughout. Right there, in it with you. And those moments really sum Hannah and the nights up. Genuine, welcoming spaces of encouragement and healing. I’ve always felt like a wandering soul and completely lost at times. So to find a group of people who I can identify with has been really special. It was at these nights that I began to really shape the idea of this project as I witnessed the recovery that was happening through poetry. One performance in particular moved me enough to write about it, and I never saw the poet again. I’ll share it by way of passing over to Hannah. As a tribute to the poets that have passed through Lost Souls and Hannah’s helping hands:
My Lost Poet
You won’t know you saved my life
That your words cut like a knife
Gently pried away my skin
Peeled it back and buried in
As I watched you tug your hair
You stood and laid your life out bare
I saw my story on the stage
I ate your sorrow, drank your rage
Such a brave and stoic tale
Tore through me, a silent wail
I found my body shaking, still
Swallowed it a jagged pill
Thank you, thank you, Jesus Christ
Have we lived through woven strife?
Cupped our hands around a light?
Held together through the night?
What brought you here just at this time?
To comfort me with every line.
As if you’d grown up from the ground
Crept through my mind without a sound
I watched your heart float out your chest
A gift of love to help me rest
The truth that you so boldly told
I’ll carry it until I’m old
I’ll wear it round me when I’m cold
My fellow, pilgrim and lost soul.
Please be mindful WSR content can be thematically sensitive.
On the 25th of January 2020, I stood on London Bridge and I was planning to jump. I was in a place of pain and self-loathing. I called the Samaritans and a man called ‘Tom’ answered. I remember asking him what drowning felt like. Twice, he talked me down off that bridge.
I needed help.
I was done, man.
I surrendered.
I couldn’t take the consequences of my drinking and using anymore and the fear of death becoming real was the last chance for me. I was in a place that was so dark, I knew it was do or die. I was given the key to my prison cell and with a lot of help and hard work and God, I knew I could and would be free. Everyone’s rock bottom looks different and mine was certainly the end IF I did not get help when it came for me. My main overriding message is, there is a way out, I followed the light at the end of my tunnel to find my way out. One day at a time. So, I want to help others out of the darkness.
I wrote my first poem on June 6th 2020, my sobriety date. I wanted to perform my words. I had dipped my toe into the open mic scene however I did not find many poetry only open mic nights and after attending a few places, I decided to start my own.
I was a member of a church, and the term ‘Lost Soul’ is how I felt. The Lost Souls poetry night was born from that, and we had 8 people at the first event.
I realised that religion could possibly put people off from coming to an open mic in a church so on the original poster it said, 'No religion required, all are welcome.’
We had two months at the church, and I realised people couldn’t find it in the back streets of my part of South London, so I contacted two venues in Balham and well, Exhibit Bar answered our prayers. We have been there for three and a half years now. We now have two poetry only open mics a month, which sell out every time. Turns out there are lots of lost souls seeking space to share their words in London.
I walk through doors that God opens for me. In 2023 I was awarded a prestigious Churchill Fellowship, producing my report entitled ‘The Power of Poetry in Education’. Since 1965 only 5,800 people, have been awarded a Churchill Fellowship and I am one of them, a long way from standing on London Bridge ready to jump.
RECOVERY
It doesn’t matter what or who you are
How you got here or the journey thus far
I need to make sure I carry on
Or I know the journey’s end, I’ll be gone
The answer is not in the bottle or glass
Doesn’t matter how slow or how fast
I drink the poison in that cup
I will die if I drink it all up
If that’s the road I want to go
Or if not, then I should know
The way out of hell is to use the key
It’s called recovery, if you want what I have, listen to me
The Higher Power, the GOD I understand
Will lead me out, by the hand
Out the gates and up above
Smother me with hugs and love.
The GOD I know has saved me now
I don’t care why, I don’t know how
Honestly, open and willing to be
Spiritually, emotionally and mentally free.
On the Writing Process
I wrote my first poem when I was 24 hours sober and clean and nearly 5 years later, I have never stopped writing. My poetry has always been semi-autobiographical, semi-observational and semi-made up. I have done a lot of soul baring and soul cleansing through poetry, and it has saved my life on numerous occasions. I’ve been told that Lost Souls is a life saver for the poets who come along, and I am very proud to say that it is for the poetry community. But it saves me too.
Along the way I’ve been lucky enough to publish two books.
The story behind my first book, Extremely Aggressive Uneducated and Rough is UNREAL. I am an ex local Councillor (see book 2 notes below!) and the term came from a post, on social media, describing me as the above! It was the year after I resigned and there were full local elections, and my name was still on people’s lips. The person who wrote it, shall remain nameless, I owe them a MASSIVE thank you. I do not even know the person either, it was their perception of who I was. I did message them, and I asked them if they wanted a free signed copy, their response was ‘It was a good idea not to use your face on the front cover.’ And then blocked me! An insult designed to hurt me changed my life! Sending love and hugs for such a good book title.
My second book, Pauper, Politician, Poet WELL sums up my job roles up into my entire existence. I spent most of my life as a pauper, we did not have much when I was growing up and throughout my adult life, I did not have the opportunities to grow in a positive way. In 2021, four years after walking into Wandsworth Council homeless, I was elected with 2714 votes as Councillor Stanislaus and it was remarkable. I was in a party that I loved, but became disillusioned and I quit politics. I felt like I could do more for my community by pursuing my passions. I am now a poet, that is my job and the best career so far! In all seriousness though, the book, is a genuine reflection on what I was and now am, I wanted a title that reflected how I have had to navigate life. Where I was and where I have come from baffles me. I lived in a women’s refuge with everything I owned on a shelf; to have been elected and now I perform MY words on stage, it is just a whirlwind of a life.
My books serve me as a reminder of the path I am on. I was angry in the first collection, and I mean, really angry. I had been holding in a lot of guilt, shame, blame and self-hatred. I repressed feelings, I supressed feelings, I avoided feelings, and the poems in the book were all that spilling out. I am proud to say that collection two was a more balanced approach and a longer process; to be honest book 2 wasn’t planned, I sat with all my feelings and the poems chose themselves. I grew up between book one and book two, knowing that the pain of making them was growth that makes me, hopefully, ready for book three.
I write from my lived experiences. Some of which I know can educate people on underrepresented topics and hopefully inspire change. I believe that as a society, we do not do enough to protect and defend women - sentences for crimes against women are not tough at all. There are many women in my life with lived experiences of domestic violence, abuse and rape where the men have not faced the full force of the law. I am a survivor of domestic violence, and I am lucky to not have been killed by an ex-partner. My poetry is my voice, and I share those poems to help women know that they can not only just escape and survive, but there is also a life beyond our wildest dreams.
Favourite poets, poetry nights, books or other resources:
Lost Souls Poetry (my baby), Survivors poetry, Soteria @ The Betsey Trotwood and Paper Tiger poetry
Closing remarks
I celebrated 5 years of continuous sobriety and clean time this year. Without my recovery, I have nothing, I know that it is the number one priority in my life. Watch this space for book three, performing poetry in Nashville, Tennessee and staying in recovery and watching Lost Souls grow into whatever God has in store for it.
Remember, it is all one day at a time.
Write Speak Recover, in collaboration with TheNeverPress is an open, free collection of original portraits of poets using their art to find strength in their recovery journey from any form of dis-ease.
We invite you to follow Write Speak Recover on Instagram and to reach out to Tim Foley at WSR or us directly at the zine to learn more, or put yourself forward to be featured in this initiative.
If you need support, here are some resources:
Samaritans
Alcohol Change
Recovery Dharma
Alcoholics Anonymous
Be kind. Stay present. One moment after the next.
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