Tag Archives: Poetry Collaborations

‘Struggle and Treachery’ Action 2/4: Transformations Poems (Book 7)

24 Sep


George Braque Metamorphoses

February 2013-March 2014

17 poets, 15 months, creating 1 contemporary reworking of Ovid’s Metamorphoses

See the Transformations Page for more details or the ‘Present Collaborations’ Tab


Poems Inspired by Book 7


Kate Garrett and Eleanor Perry



Maybe Medea*

by Kate Garrett


I stand at the far

edge of the fields,

beyond the patch

of cornstalks, facing

the hedgerow and scents

of honeysuckle blooms,

crushed sassafras leaves.


She waits there,

mother of crossroads,

beneath the darkest

sky. She asks if I

would bathe in, or drink

them: fresh milk, sweet

honey, sheep’s blood.


She knows my auntie

shows men their true

form, lets them roll

like pigs around her feet,

offers plenty of mud,

and scraps to keep

them happy.


She also knows it’s not

enough for me. I need

their lives. They owe

me their salvation

and destruction alike.

But all the same, auntie

taught me well, and my

dark crone understands.


I slit the bleating throat

as my lady asked, mix

the claret flow with white

and gold. She sends the chariot,

drawn by dragons. Or

are they men? I’m laughing,

skin splashed with red,

as they drive me away.



Maybe Aurora (Red Sky at Morning)

by Kate Garrett


Look. The sky,  the sunrise,

and all for you. Why don’t

you want it? Bright scarlet,


like a passion, a tantrum,

your heart, and the hole

In her chest. Just wait;


wait for another dawn, a lot

like this one. Go. Wait. And

don’t say I didn’t warn you.



by Eleanor Perry


myrmidon by Nell Perry Book 7 JPG





* =One of the poems to be included in our ‘Transformations’ Exhibition/Poetry reading September 2014, Hanse House, King’s Lynn, Norfolk


You can find out more about Kate and Nell here: 




‘Struggle and Treachery’ Action 1/4: Transformations Poems (Book 7)

18 Sep


George Braque Metamorphoses

February 2013-March 2014

17 poets, 15 months, creating 1 contemporary reworking of Ovid’s Metamorphoses

See the Transformations Page for more details or the ‘Present Collaborations’ Tab


Poems Inspired by Book 7


Adam Wimbush and Rebecca Audra Smith



Jayson and the Astronauts*

by Adam Wimbush


The Astronauts blast through the atmosphere.

Fresh from the Thrace system where previously they had been,

Fighting the flying half-female forces of Harpeeys;

A race of soul tormentors who breathed fear and each one was a thought thief.

Fortunately their deformed forms were destroyed

Freeing the starved and tormented colony underneath

Who in return presented Jaysun with a compass with which to unlock the Cosmos.

Once cracked the cryptic coordinates guided him to the planet Colchis,

Where he would claim the “Shimmering Skin” from the savage Thing.

But the negotiations were complicated, revealing even more arduous adventures.

For Jaysuns cache would be empty if he couldn’t inspire and

Overcome the three layer test set out by the Thing.

But oh, how he oozed hero, sending waves of intoxication through Meedeeuh.

Her emotions flare and the alien love grows inside.

It mutates the meanings of the savage Things many mean manifestations,

Which now become meaningless.

Like the planets gravity she’s magnetised.

Caught in a prism of contradiction…she’s got the wrong triangle tingles…attracted to xeno-zones.

Feelings fluctuate in fancy frequencies as her moral compass flickers.

Surrounding powers sneak; they weave through inhuman web works

Were they can’t be understood.

Pumping god fluid into the pupa of paradoxical peril where the hatchlings of danger await.

Observing these dilemmas the snakes of her syntax hiss as she forges a shield of love.

A force field so strong no Layer Boss can penetrate.



Hazardous emotions reign creating a vortex in her soul

Which re-swirls images of alternative futures.

She commences to conjure.

Illusions solidify as realties dematerialise.

The galactic jigsaw pieces begin to slot together as,

Another goddess helps them piece together the puzzle of perception.

For within the circuits of the cosmos sparks hide, and

Tapping into this hidden electricity Meedeeuh and Jaysun decide to dive.


Layer 1:


With his force field glowing Jaysun confronts the Oxatons;

They vomit vortexes, they roar louder than black holes sucking in anti-matter.

They tear the fabric of space with their thunderous talons,

Horns of pure malice to the marrow, with which they rip reality.

Jaysun in his cocoon cruises into the beating black heart of the Oxatons hatred,

Were upon they release a shockwave of terror.

The negative energy is absorbed by the barrier of love and reflected back.

So their whirling withers, their energy dissipates and

The Oxatons dissolve into a time lapsed sunset.


Layer 2:


From the Things Terror Capsule

A handful of fossilised fangs where flung,

Biting deep into the flesh of the planet.

From these teeth seeds terrible things sprung,

Melting upwards into horrible humanoid creatures

Made from malignant bits, fetid flesh and bizarre bones, weaved together.

Their bio-weaponery stank, shooting rancid lasers at violating velocity.

These rotting robots wouldn’t stop till Jaysun was dead.

Their mangled forms advanced and

It seemed our hero would be overcome with their putrid power.

Fearing her love shield wouldn’t suffice

She uses a voice engine

Rendering her words sentient.

The wicked whisper seemed to swim

Corrupt and confuse their regurgitated bodies from within,

The Zombots fuse into a pulsating cancer of bone and meat

This violently erupts,

Spitting sinews and splintered bone, cutting its diseased neighbour down.


Layer 3:


Now armed with Meedeeuhs shamanistic song shadow

He prepares for the ultimate battle; to tackle the malevolent Monsect

With its bastardised exoskeleton and an array of angry appendages.

Ghostly heads that gorged on grief.

A tongue that seemed to fork forever

Searching for death from a mouth even evil was afraid to lurk in.

Despite its destructive capabilities it wasn’t immune to Meedeeuhs murmuring machine.

So when Jaysun synchronised it while unloading his Spray Gun

the Monsects consciousness evaporated.

In that frozen moment he snatched the Shimmering Skin from its golden holding cell.

Leaving behind this hell

With Meedeeuh as his wife and sporting an extra magic epidermis,

They flew off to the planet Iolcos in love.


(and that’s another story)



by Rebecca Audra Smith


Brew me a new life
out of green thumbs and songs.
Make me young as I was when I thought
our souls are made of sky colours.
I will plaster myself in marble
I will build my own tower
I will let you slit my neck
and fill me with fresh flowers. 


She promised youth,
she said, give me an ewe,
no, on second thoughts, a ram-
head heavy with horns-
and I will restore spring.

The pot was too small.
She stuffed the whorled body,
legs sticking out at right angles,
it bleat and then it shrunk,
leaving behind the sack of its old shape. 


Drain out the stale blood,
we must fill ourselves with life.
Daughters, stab your fathers,
sharpen the knives. 

When the corpse is quiet
and the moon is high
we will fill it like a chalice,
we can but resurrect or die. 




* =One of the poems to be included in our ‘Transformations’ Exhibition/Poetry reading September 2014, Hanse House, King’s Lynn, Norfolk


You can find out more about Adam and Rebecca here: 





Adam Wimbush



A warm welcome goes out to Adam who has joined the project half-way through.

nb. The group of ‘Transformations’ poets is now formerly closed. 

Rebecca Audra Smith







‘Spindles and Webs’ Thread 4/4: Transformations Poems (Book 6)

12 Sep


George Braque Metamorphoses

February 2013-March 2014

17 poets, 15 months, creating 1 contemporary reworking of Ovid’s Metamorphoses

See the Transformations Page for more details or the ‘Present Collaborations’ Tab


Poems Inspired by Book 6


Rebecca Audra Smith, Sadaf Fatima

and Karin Heyer



Act 1

‘The king in his guilty passion often took pleasure with the body he had so mutilated.’

by Rebecca Audra Smith


She let fall a string of no’s

so I took her tongue.

What use was it to her, to speak?

She was making too much fuss,

stressing me out. I ran for miles,

going nowhere, treading

old ground. I thought of her,

silence between four walls except

for the noisy mess of her hands

-now untied-

my fists dragged the air.


 A man looks good with a sister each side,

  she shadows my wife’s gilded days,

a limbless knowledge.

I keep them both safe as babes.


I grilled her tongue, decorated with

 a molar or two, and tenderly

 consumed with an asparagus side;

 butter and blood.

Act 2

‘While his limbs were still warm, the two sisters tore them apart’

by Rebecca Audra Smith


The kitchen’s a state.

Every knife used for the job,

each chopping board bears the hacks,

crimson staining their wood

and the floor is wet,

slippery wet, with a smeared

litre or two of blood.


The water in the sink is bubbling pink,

fly’s eggs hatching in the mop,

a cat delicately sidesteps a large puddle

then laps at spilled drops.


The servants don’t know where to start

with the family all eaten or feathered

shrieking in the rafters,

and a crime scene lingering

in the cupboards.


A serving girl scours and watches

herself in the slick, gory

bronze of a pot.



by Sadaf Fatima


Where there’s so much wrong in the world,
Art helps make things all right,
Your pain becomes beauty,
Tears shape into touching words,
Hands knit miracles,
You see the unseen,
Feel the splendour many eyes miss,
And create a world of your own.
You create a world within a world.
When the sorrow rains on you,
And the storms shudder,
You make art your shelter,
And it makes things all right.

Rhetoric: Violence breeds Violence

by Karin Heyer

(Inspired by Pandion, Procne, Philomena, Tereus)


Imagine, the most lovely girl

you have ever seen….

innocent, young, gentle and caring,



daughter of Pandion, aged King of Athens.

For a long five years

her sister Procne had lived far away,

bound by marriage,

To the rich King of Thrace, Tereus.

She had become the loving mother ot Itys,

their only son.

Procne longed to embrace her sister

family bond wanting bonding,

talking about melodies past…

She begged Tereus to sail for Athens,

bring Philomena to their kingdom,

so that she could cradle Itys in her arms

and wile away hours

in happy chatter.

Weaving, weaving a tapestry

of contented family life…

Tereus obeyed her wish,

a fateful wish!


Tereus set eyes on Philomena,

hot fire shot through his veins,

his only thought:

to possess this girl!

He won, he raped, gorged!

He cut out her complaining tongue



-impossible to believe-


he raped, again her speechless body,

hid her in a high-walled steading

where his atrocious crimes were committed,

telling trusted Procne her sister is dead!

She was violated

In utter desolation Philomena

was weaving, weaving a tapestry

of her betrayed, silenced life,

telling her plight,

this tapestry was sent to her loving, mourning sister,

who understood



-enraged turned to revenge-

her husband’s foul deed,

this unspeakable crime.

The sisters meet,

transformed by rage

their furious minds turned

to an inhuman plan,

intent to hurt most!

Violence breeds violence

in finest hearts,

it provoked profoundly!

Gentle Philomena, too,

schemes heartless schemes.

The sisters madly murder Itys,

adored son of Tereus.

The father eats his own son’s flesh

at their princely, planned feast,

where once kindly women,

now bend under blinding hate;

where Philomena, crimson with Itys’ blood

throws his severed head towards the gorging father.

Thereupon, unhinged by rage, Tereus,

tomb of his own son,

raised his sword

towards the brain-sick, wild-eyed women;

fleeing, they hovered in sad air,

growing weeping wings of sorrow;

became birds in flight.

One flew off to the woods alone,

the other rested under the eaves of the roof.

Tereus turned into a bird too.

All three hurt beyond repair,

never to love again.



You can find out more about Rebecca, Sadaf and Karin here: 





Rebecca Audra Smith



Sadaf Fatima



Karin Heyer, as yet, does not have a website





‘Spindles and Webs’ Thread 3/4: Transformations Poems (Book 6)

3 Sep


George Braque Metamorphoses

February 2013-March 2014

17 poets, 15 months, creating 1 contemporary reworking of Ovid’s Metamorphoses

See the Transformations Page for more details or the ‘Present Collaborations’ Tab


Poems Inspired by Book 6


Carol Robson and Nat Hall



Silky Weaver

(Arachne and Minvera)

by Carol Robson


Weaver of tales
resplendently regaled
from humbleness,
interlacing her stories,
gathering her fame
in silkiness
of living threads.

Disguised challenge
old woman confronts
respect the goddess,
silky weaver
in defiance
that her substance
of threads
of weaves
are the finest
to behold.

Battles of weavers
spinning their tales,
tapestries in arrogance
silky weaver
the Gods
in weaves
of their

In ire
silky weaver
wrathful goddess,
striking silky weaver
in anger.

head hanging shame
by the weaved noose,
then in pity
of silky weaver
to poisonous
silky spinning

©Carol Robson 2013


Spinning Spirits

by Nat Hall


Inside her web of dreams,
she feels world souls
pass through

thinnest of yarn,
white filaments caress fingers
as she sits tight behind
her wheel.

She knows
the beauty of
each thread, rhythm of
her foot on treadle, the joy with which hooked flyer spins
in a rengaine…

Apparatus built for a song.

Her eyes,
drawn inside
every ounce of wool
she washed & brushed with
so much care
now looks
fine silk;

she does not
listen to
wind that
filters through
the wooden frame of
her own gift…

For days on end,
she simply stops to
watch the clock,
as spinning

She does not know,
she will be punished for
her deed, as jealous
hands are told to
turn her
her abdomen
became her wheel.

© Nat Hall 2013

Inspired from the tale of Arachne & Minerva



You can find out more about Carol and Nat here: 




‘Spindles and Webs’ Thread 2/4: Transformations Poems (Book 6)

20 Aug


George Braque Metamorphoses

February 2013-March 2014

17 poets, 15 months, creating 1 contemporary reworking of Ovid’s Metamorphoses

See the Transformations Page for more details or the ‘Present Collaborations’ Tab


Poems Inspired by Book 6


Kate Garrett and Nell Perry



spider bitten

by Kate Garrett 

(After Ovid’s ‘Arachne’)

yes, weave these tales well:
webs of gods, men, heroics.
misjudge the goddess,
race against her loom. spindly
creature, hanging from a thread.

Revenge Englynion*

by Kate Garrett

(After Ovid’s ‘Tereus, Procne and Philomela’)

Tereus must pay the price
Procne makes her sacrifice
After Bacchanalian rites.

Itys nursed at Procne’s breast,
At her hands his gruesome death –
Buried in his father’s chest.

Sister’s ruin beat mother’s care:
Philomela’s life is spared –
Nightingale upon the air.

*“Englynion” is the plural of “englyn”, or various short, rhyming Welsh verse forms. The form used here is the englyn milwr, or soldier’s englyn: three lines of seven syllables each, with end rhymes. I put three of them together to make one poem, hence “englynion”.

 Leto & Niobe

by Nell Perry


…………. …grief is arrow-shaped,
turning flesh to
something blunt,
in the light’s filmy

reckless language is
formless like foam.
Unfastened words
are violent
nymphs, each
electric with exquisite
chaos. Salt

water can be both
a teardrop or a
mighty sea; what

……………remains is
bereft, a petrified
stump that may once
have been
something motherly…

The Swallow

by Nell Perry


………….…is it with its silence that

the swallow

bothers you, whefting swoop-

threads over

the clouds’ upturned hooks? There is

recognition in the songless


but not peace. And embellishment;



murmurations, as in all

embroidery. A tongue is a fanciful thing, but

without it there is only



on which to tether weightless thoughts

………. …and this the swallow knows

more than most, entwined, as she is


………….with the sky’s slub yarns. In

spite of everything we ingest the ones we

love, unknowingly. Split strands are

interlaced, like those


……. …..blithe

loops whorled across the fabric of the air…




You can find out more about James and Richard here: 



‘Spindles and Webs’ Thread 1/4: Transformations Poems (Book 6)

12 Aug


George Braque Metamorphoses

February 2013-March 2014

17 poets, 15 months, creating 1 contemporary reworking of Ovid’s Metamorphoses

See the Transformations Page for more details or the ‘Present Collaborations’ Tab


Poems Inspired by Book 6


James Knight and Richard Biddle




by James Knight 


My crime was telling stories too well. .

I dished the dirt,

spilt the beans,

exposed saucy secrets

in lurid words.


I dropped names,

all of them,

every last rotten one:

bosses, head honchos, rulers, gods,

the prime movers and mountain shakers,

seducers and liars.


There was no hiding!


Of course, that bitch won’t tell you

(not even privately)

that it was my way with words

that angered her,

that she was mad with envy

when she saw my divine prose


over her mundane maundering,

inching her out,

grabbing the headlines.


She’ll say I peddled salacious pap,

and that’s why I had to go.


Her hypocrisy disgusts me.



from the shadows,

I spin little stories

that no one reads –


Mayor Dies Suddenly

New Estate Planned

Twin Puppies Drowned


– still hoping that one day

I’ll catch something big,

a story that will go down

in history,

a legend.



Spider Diagram

by Richard Biddle

. I blink Or do I? Something flickers – An electric buzz like the moment before thunder when hair fizzes and bones bristle. In a matter of nanoseconds, a 16mm film inflates my bustling brain with a hurricane of cinematic whispers. All my life rushes through me like a brakeless freight train. It comes to a mind-shattering stop at my skull’s centre. My body sizzles to a magnet of static needles flexes its pea-sized muscles. Limbs that once worked memory’s loom retract down to this one-pointedness. Two thumbless hands knotted together; eight fingers, eight scuttling wires. Pulp, fist and knuckles knit into a purple abdomen. .I’m no ordinary arachnid. —– .

Web of Words

by Richard Biddle

. A spider, still as a sentry. . He moves closer. His breath disturbs her and he catches a glimpse of what she’s guarding; a murky pool. . Beneath its oily meniscus something glints. He dips his hand in, retrieves the object; a rusty key. . She scurries up his arm towards his ear. . And here she spins a yarn telling him no lock exists for this ancient tool. Then she vanishes. . Looking deeper into the black, black water he sees himself. . .

You can find out more about James and Richard here: 


‘Heralding Battle and Blood’ Slash 4/4: Transformations Poems (Book 5)

6 Aug


George Braque Metamorphoses

February 2013-March 2014

17 poets, 15 months, creating 1 contemporary reworking of Ovid’s Metamorphoses

See the Transformations Page for more details or the ‘Present Collaborations’ Tab


Poems Inspired by Book 5


Nell Perry and Karin Heyer



.Dew Point

by Nell Perry


Dew Point  2 by Nell Perry



Human Destructiveness, Now and Then

by Karin Heyer


Loaded gun held up high

towards a bound man at a simple pole


fearful fire riddles the still air and his body.

A musician sings near the corner of a street,

He was made for times of peace.

He stood without guilt at the furious waters of war:

A cruel sword pierced his temple.

The ground was warm and sodden with blood; brutal, gruesome, flaying spears,

strike full in the face,

two comrades fell beside each other dying.

Fatal wounds harm hundreds of men,

men made to fight trampling over

heaps of withering men.


What mad impulse drives man

to this criminal act of war?

Untold suffering hits the common, bound man.

It is said, obedience to an order from above

lifts the burden of murder and accountability

for deeds evil.

-so they say-

Oh no, you cannot disown responsibility

for deeds done,

inhumanity towards another human

freezes the heart into stone,

you remain a killer for all time.



You can find out more about Nell here: 

Nell Perry



http://www.zonepoetrymagazine.com/>>See sidebar for more details.


Karin Heyer, as yet, does not have a website. 




‘Heralding Battle and Blood’ Slash 3/4: Transformations Poems (Book 5)

31 Jul


George Braque Metamorphoses

February 2013-March 2014

17 poets, 15 months, creating 1 contemporary reworking of Ovid’s Metamorphoses

See the Transformations Page for more details or the ‘Present Collaborations’ Tab


Poems Inspired by Book 5



Nat Hall and James Knight


The Plough

by Nat Hall


Follow furrows.


In the lush land slashed by the plough of those who sow pardon’s poppies

instead of pale forget-me-not,

I jeer

and hiss at

Minerva & beg to drink

at the fountain;


in the great land slashed by the plough of those who glean ripe seeds

of love instead of harm,

I say


of nine magpies;


in the dark land slashed by the plough of those who seek the reaper’s

hand instead of rags,

I crouch and

curse at

Medusa, bow to

the god of the river and find

my way with Pegasus.

In the proud land slashed by the plough of those who unleash dogs

of war, I raise my pavilion of grace,

woven through air as a




myself with fire,

as life throws her cargo of death –


in between blades & nine magpies,

there is a hill where wild orchids flourish in peace,

where love & hate flower as flax,

from which farmers

turn to linen.


Is there a womb where the living calls to the dead?


I am walking in its furrow.

© Nat Hall 2013


The guilty statue

by James Knight


stories lodged in minds like splinters stories dreamt imagined inferred told retold their loose machinery humming in the night of a thousand insomnias stories growing bacterial on petri dish pages blooming in blue green patina of myth stories whispering to us under the lid of day from the edges of vision and reason while we iron trousers and go deaf with talking and buy into bankrupt ideas stories incessant unrelenting a heartbeat a breathing low inaudible easily ignored most of the time

until they burst



victorious with his prize


What, won’t you come out,


and have a good dinner for nothing?


Much obliged, Mr. Ketch,

(the Tyburn Gardener represents the throne, for the

purposes of this allegory)

but I have had my dinner

for nothing already.


But you must come out;

the haughty tyrant speaks –

come out and be hanged.


sometimes a story is Medusa

lifted high,

a head

on the spike of an arm




yes, the story

the story itself,

its telling


Gorgon’s head appears


Why were you so cruel

as to commit so many



the monster held

And you’ve got one bone

in your neck,

but that shall be soon



It is very easy:

only put your head

through here.


Insert here your own list of historical events which you would classify as atrocities, events that turned viewers to stone


What, so?

Not so, you fool.


Mind who you call fool:

try if you can do it yourself.

Only show me how,

and I do it directly.


soon were statues


to Seriphus with the head he sails

Lord of a little isle


the telling defines us

so we have to be very careful


Very well; I will.

There, you see

my head,

and you see

this loop:

put it in,



shut your eyes,

he cries


And pull it tight, so!


I’ve done the trick!

Jack Ketch is dead –

I’m free!


Discuss the view that discourse diminishes reality.


That’s not what I said, you fucking idiot!


A severed head might represent a multitude of things, for example anarchy (removal of the head of state), madness (loss of reason), castration anxiety


Medusa’s snakes


let the story hiss you, kiss you, atishoo!

we all fall down

folly in the stone.



You can find out more about Nat and James and their work here:


Nat Hall




James Knight





‘Heralding Battle and Blood’ Slash 2/4: Transformations Poems (Book 5)

23 Jul


George Braque Metamorphoses

February 2013-March 2014

17 poets, 15 months, creating 1 contemporary reworking of Ovid’s Metamorphoses

See the Transformations Page for more details or the ‘Present Collaborations’ Tab


Poems Inspired by Book 5



Carol Robson and Rebecca Audra Smith




by Carol Robson


Dry unfertile lands
no sustenance to thine
visions of human kind
forlorn in barren fertility
that both should show
the fruits of natural fertility.

Both should be nourished
for land and womb
to bear the labours of love
cultivation of the seed
for sustenance
for life and spirit.

Grains of fertility
grains to multiply
to fructify
the earth
the womb
for the renewal
of life and soul
with nourishment
for Mother Earth
for animal
and human kind.

©Carol Robson 2013



(Perseus, Andromeda and Phineas)

by Carol Robson

The wedding banquet follows
anticipation of a glorious feast
celebration of a new union
not always a concordancy
families in disorder
jealousy and rage
broken promises
bride promised to another.

The promised man
wronged in anger
challenging the new groom
with a force of men
to right the wrong
done unto him.
He transforms the festivities
all hell ensues
as the promised man
endeavours to take
his promised bride
only to be rocked
by the sudden appearance
of the cold stare
that leaves him

©Carol Robson 2013



by Rebecca Audra Smith

The owl flew to the girl
pecked her apart till only her face was left.
It took her tongue as the choicest morsel.

Magpie, do you think you can sing?
Lost in the chattering notes of your song
there is some sweetness.

Sorrow comes to us on a humid breeze,
it screeches and hoots its tales,
the chase and catch of mice and rat.



by Rebecca Audra Smith

The stone army stays.
The pure marble of a man frozen
in the act of hurling a spear.

Violence made safe, she wove
garlands around their cold shoulders,
planted pansies at their feet.

One, his face screwed into pain,
she loved and learnt his stance,
in her sleep she was granite,
pebbles, the stone of a dock. 


You can find out more about Carol and Rebecca and their work here:


Carol Robson




Rebecca Audra Smith







12 Dec


A Very Warm Welcome Poets!

Firstly, let me say a big thank you for being so patient with me in relation to the formal launch of this idea. I wanted to get it right for you all and also to make sure it worked. 

Here we go:


The Idea :


Is that we will create a new contemporary extended narrative re-interpretation of Ovid’s METAMORPHOSES created by a range of diverse poetic voices (ie. you) (the famous epic poem completed in AD 8 ; a tale about change and transformation, myth and legend, charting the world’s creation from the beginning to the crowning of Julius Caesar). Our piece will be inspired and driven by the content of the 15 books therein (see below).

10 plus poets working together over 15 months starting in February 2013 (this will give us a chance to get over xmas and will give me time to start up a Facebook Group Page so you can share your experiences, collaborate and hopefully create a little mini-community … ). The start date will be formerly confirmed to all participants once numbers have been firmly established. I will also need email addresses (some of which I’ve already got).  


Each poet will be asked to produce at least one poem per month (if you’re a poet who writes quickly you can do more that’s fine) inspired sequentially by the stories in each book of Metamorphoses (1-15). One book per month. One poem per month, submitted to me via email by at least the last Friday of the month. You can use just one of the stories as a point of inspiration or all of them. It’s up to you. The stories can be interpreted in anyway you like within a modern or ancient context. The idea is that the piece will be of  contemporary relevance. An extended time frame has been chosen so that the emphasis can be on creating quality whilst giving you the space and time to create and engage with the subject matter freely and within a sensible time frame (i.e. on top of life). 


Here are the books to give you an idea (you might need to get hold of a copy if you haven’t got one already or there’s a copy online HERE : 


Month 1 Book ICosmogonyAges of ManGigantesDaphneIo;

Month 2 Book IIPhaëtonCallistoJupiter and Europa;

Month 3 Book III: CadmusActaeonEchoNarcissus, and Pentheus;

Month 4 Book IV: Pyramus and ThisbeHermaphroditus

 and SalmacisPerseus & Andromeda

Month 5 Book V: Phineus, the Rape of Proserpina;

Month 6 Book VI: ArachneNiobePhilomela and Procne;

Month 7 Book VII: MedeaCephalus and Procris;

Month 8 Book VIII: Nisos and ScyllaDaedalus and 

IcarusBaucis and Philemon;

Month 9 Book IX: HeraclesByblis;

Month 10 Book X: EurydiceHyacinthPygmalionMyrrhaAdonis,


Month 11 Book XI: OrpheusMidasAlcyone and CeyxAesacus;

Month 12 Book XII: IphigeneiaCentaursAchilles;

Month 13 Book XIII: the Sack of TroyAeneas;

Month 14 Book XIV: ScyllaAeneasRomulus;

 Month 15 Book XV: PythagorasHippolytusAesculapiusCaesar.[1]

They are truly beautiful stories  that have shaped our existence and mythologies! Wonderful! 

In order to mark the monthly transition from one book to the next. I will blog an introductory post outlining the stories and content of each book. I am also going to allocate one page of ArtiPeeps to the collaboration and there you will find all the details of the project. I will also include suggested OPTIONAL word and form prompts which poets can use to direct their work if they wish. 

When the poems for that particular post come in I will post them directly onto that page, and cumulatively we will create a massive collaborative epic contemporary poem ! How exciting is that? It’s exciting !



I have in mind that extra to the sheer satisfaction of having produced this mega piece of work that I will also find a means (on its completion) to publish our work  in a hard-copy format; or, maybe, to turn it into a multimedia piece in some way… I’m exploring options at the moment….


Joining Us:

I know so far that 10 plus poets have said they are interested, but the more the merrier! If you’ve read this and would like to get involved please do contact me via the reply box or via @ArtiPeep on Twitter. And indeed if you know of anybody who might be interested in this project do pass the information on to them and they can gladly join us. 

I want to make this a truly great collaborative experience for you all and I also want to produce a piece of work that is of true quality and a reflection of all your talent. I’m always up for feedback and input. If you think I’ve forgotten anything, or are confused logistically please do get in touch. The good thing about starting in February is that we have time to tweak things. I will put the ‘Transformations’ page up shortly.

Thank you for your interest and support. I’m really looking forward to working with you all over an extended period of time and creating something truly wonderful, meaningful, socially relevant and creative.

Let the collaboration commence!




%d bloggers like this: