The Winners
POEM OF THE FESTIVAL 2026
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This year’s VERVE Poetry Competition explored the thorny issue of relationships and the heart. Centred on the well trodden theme of LOVE and judged by the brilliant Victoria Kennefick, the competition drew a dazzling range of entries — each a testament to how the emotions that connect us dominate us all.
First Place
"Minutes after I confess I’m an arachnophobic, you show me"
by Debmalya Bandyopadhyay
'I was completely enveloped by the gentle web of poetic persuasion offered in, ‘Minutes after I confess I’m an arachnophobic, you show me,’ – a brilliant extended metaphor that originally explores the delicate and intense dance of anxiety and avoidance in life and love.
It is so well-balanced and measured in form and language yet also manages to convey the danger and vulnerability of acknowledging and sharing our deepest fears with those we love. Here the nerve-wracking experience of allowing ourselves to be truly seen, even through the multiple eyes of our greatest phobia, is laid bare, ‘There is so much to love here. So much to watch and weave and wave to. / And even in this spiderverse, all eight of my eyes are filling up with you.’ It is also funny and deeply tender because it is all worth it. I’ll never look at spiders in the same way again.'
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- Victoria Kennefick
Minutes after I confess I’m arachnophobic, you show me
A tiny white spider with eight beady eyes.
You say, look at this little guy! I cannot, 
 
 the darkened topsoil of my mind swarming
 with black widows, trapdoors, tarantulas—
 
 sharp bristles prickly against my skin, threats of death, 
 poisoning, or living the rest of my life as Spiderman. 
 
 But when I manage to glance, this little guy, noodle hairs 
 drooping over his boba eyes like an early 2000s emo vocalist,
 
 is from another world: where little white spiders are hard at work
 all day weaving their little white webs, their faint silvery streamers 
 
 hung across the air. I imagine us there— authentic arachnids 
 crafting a life together with the silky parabolas of our smiles. 
 
 Dining at a cobweb highrise. Brunching in bed with last night’s leftover
 housefly hummus. Taking the aerial tramway to our web designing desks.  
 
 There is so much to love here. So much to watch and weave and wave to. 
 And even in this spiderverse, all eight of my eyes are filling up with you. 
 
 My spiracles are gushing with you than ever before. My spinnerets are 
 spinning your tale. Some felty feature keeps brushing against my face
 
 like daylight’s fingers. An epic dream that lingers, whose soft geometry 
 is threaded within me from ache to axis. I’m collecting all its trinkets. 
 
I’m learning its charms to cast over our days. I’m stitching a net
to hold joy— this octopod crawling from your heart to mine. 
2nd Place
"Boyband"
by Laura Theis
‘Boyband’ is a gem of a poem – witty, extremely intelligent, and with layers of tones and harmonies to explore and ponder. The prose poem form is a perfect fit, giving us a sense of how unavoidable boyband’s overtures are – the speaker is boxed in – finally resorting to the reassuring rectangle of the bath, ostensibly having to enter another element to create some distance from these earnest crooners.
The poem delightfully plays with contrived and commodified versions of attraction and identity through juxtaposing the lyrics of the songs with the everyday actions of the speaker.
This culminates with the most intriguing of open endings that offers the reader so many possibilities to consider, ‘and when I scratched my head they sang about how they would gladly die for/ me and when I cried in the bath they twerked in a conga line and lord forgive me I just did not /have the heart to tell them then.’'
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- Victoria Kennefick
Boyband
I woke up one day and the boyband was just there, doing their best to adjust their complicated dance routine to what little floorspace there was on my ragged bedroom carpet. As soon as I opened my eyes they started complimenting me in five-part harmonies, you are my dream girl, baby and I didn’t have the heart to tell them because they really were singing their little hearts out while almost doing the splits without knocking over my precarious bedside lamp and they were beautiful and young, muscled to the hilt from all that dancing. They were indefatigable too, following me around all day with their cheering. When I frowned over my emails they sang about how much they loved my sweet sweet smile, and when I picked my nose they sang about my sexy sexy booty, and when I scratched my head they sang about how they would gladly die for me and when I cried in the bath they twerked in a conga line and lord forgive me I just did not have the heart to tell them then.
Third Place
"The Not-My-Mothers"
by Lisette Abrahams
‘The Not-My-Mothers’ brilliantly captures the voice of a child searching for a maternal figure to love them. Using the litany of the ‘not-my-mothers’ to explore the way the mysteries of the adult world of love and relationships have such a profound effect on the children involved, these ‘not mothers’ are observed by the speaker with detached and hopeful longing.
There is a gentleness in the way these women are described and not necessarily judged, as can be so often the case in society and culture – so the fact of their unsuitability, for a variety of reasons, is all the more affecting as a result – making the final stanza more potent and joyful, ‘ The last not-my-mother let me choose which crisps I liked /and sewed Snoopy patches on my sister’s jeans…’
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- Victoria Kennefick
The Not-My-Mothers
The first not-my-mother had horsey teeth and put her hand on my dad’s arm when she laughed
and couldn’t wait for us to go to bed.
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The second not-my-mother plaited my hair like hers and called my brother handsome
and hated our cat.
The third not-my-mother loved Elvis and jived in the kitchen with my sister
and cried when my dad stayed out.
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The fourth not-my-mother whispered on the phone and smoked cigarettes one after the other
and gave us cider in egg cups.
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The last not-my-mother let me choose which crisps I liked
and sewed Snoopy patches on my sister’s jeans
and bought my brother a Dr Who book
and didn’t tell my dad when I wet the bed
and within a month I was calling her Mummy.
VERVE Poem of the Festival Online Winners' Showcase
​Sunday, May 10. 11 am to 12:30 pm.
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Hosted by competition judge Victoria Kennefick, and featuring our winners, our commended poets and those selected in the 11-17 category.
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The Verve Competition on the Theme of LOVE opened for entries late in 2025, judged by the wonderful VICTORIA KENNEFICK. We also opened to competition up to entries from 11-17 yearolds. This online event will feature all the winners and commended poets plus six selected from our 11-17 entries.
The poets will read their poems on our subject and help launch our annual festival anthology. The event will be hosted by Victoria herself and will be a fun and lively affair, featuring poets of all kinds and levels of experience.
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NB Ticket sales close at 10.30am Sunday 10th May.
