Biography

Fay is a 34-year-old classically trained singer from Cardiff who started performing at the age of 4. She has been getting stuff published since the age of 18. She was bitten by the performance poetry bug in Spring 2006 after a favour to a friend turned into a place in the final of a poetry slam.

She co-manages a series of live poetry events (Poetry Kapow!) with the rather fabulous Danni Antagonist in Milton Keynes, performs in various parts of the Midlands and South East, and is part of a Milton Keynes poetry collective calling themselves Bardcore. She currently gets excited by databases for a living, still sings in choirs and everywhere else and, since summer 2009, is based in Cambridge.

Check out Poetry Kapow on http://www.poetrykapow.co.uk

Fay’s work has been described as: “lyrical”, “engaging”, “scarily good” and, memorably: “too many words... I got lost...” Her voice has been described as “musical”, “mellifluous”, and “mesmerising”.

Fay has performed poetry in Milton Keynes, Leicester, Coventry, London, Leamington Spa, Northampton, Bedford, Hitchin, Cambridge and Stowe, in Open Mic, showcases, collaboration, competition and costume. Sometimes she bangs a drum and appears on the same bill as a whole bunch of scarily good people it feels like arrant name-dropping to mention.

Featured slots include:

“The Art of Poetry” (one of the four acts performing as part of the Marcel Broodthaers Exhibition at Milton Keynes Gallery) – Feb 2008
“The Poets” (support for the Stony Live showcase for the eponymous poetry duo) – June 2008
“A Perfect Start to An Evening” as part of the MK Arts Open Weekend – May 2009
“Poetry From the Back End of the Bull” a Bardcore Showcase (Stony Stratford) – May 2009
“Don’t Shush Me!” as a support act for Billy Childish (Bishopsgate, London) – June 2009
Stowe Gardens’ 18th Century Day (performing 18th Century poetry in full costume!) as part of the Poetry Society’s Centenary – July 2009
“Write Way Up” as a commissioned poet for part of Leicester’s Lyric Lounge – July 2009
“Tongue in Chic” as featured support act for Zena Edwards and Steve Larkin – September 2009
Fuzzy Face, Hitchin (support act for The October Game's album launch) – Oct 2009
BEAT Ladies' Night (one of an all-female featured poetry line-up) - Jan 2010

To keep up with Fay’s forthcoming performances, check out http://www.faithhope.co.uk/calendar.htm

For a view of some performances, see http://www.youtube.com/user/fayroberts

Samples

*Kaleidoscope*

It’s that time of year
People start talking about feeling blue
Having the Blues.
Where did that come from?

I don’t get it, see, for me
Blue is clear skies
Wide smiles
Carefree laughter.
Blue is a sweet infinity.
Blue is ever after.
I don’t fear blue.
Blue is tattoos
And suede shoes.
Blue is my lover’s eyes;
I love blue!

Black, now.
Black dog on your back
Black mood
Black-eyed Susan,
Down in the dark
I don’t fear black.
Black’s cool!
Black you can decorate -
like stars in a night sky.
Black is stillness. Silence.
Black doesn’t ask why.
Black is a blank slate
For projections on my closed eyelids
Sleep in darkness and awake in light.
Black doesn’t last.

Orange, however...
Orange is my enemy.
The opposite of blue:
Wild, sleepless,
Nervous snickers
Orange doesn’t rhyme!
Nothing links to orange!
Unnatural, fast-moving, out-of-control,
Bitter taste in my throat,
Stinging eyes,
Brightly-coloured lies,
Hackles rising...
Shut up, orange!
(noisy bastard)

And then there’s grey.
Grey does scare me.
Grey’s a maze of blank walls
A pall of cloud, sour
A stale-breathed blanket wrapped around your head.
Thick with the taste of mildew,
And the smell of dead hair
And sick grandparents.
Grey’s a fog, suffocating fire
Leaching sensation until everything looks the same,
Smells the same,
Tastes the same,
And people vanish.
I don’t want grey
Grey stops my breath,
Numbs my fingers,
Clouds my eyes,
Muffles music.

No. No grey.
Give me a cool, blue day
And a warm, red night
(which is a different poem altogether...)
Anytime.

Give me all the colours of the world.
(except for orange, of course)



*Song to the Sea*

A glance disarms my invention
My tongue tangles itself, tripping me
to drown headlong in two eyes
Like the sea at sunrise –
the exact colours of a long,
drawn-out summer dawn in Orkney,
Reflected.

Brain neglected, I happily bob and sway,
Shamelessly – well, nearly – floating
in the sea of your regard.

That small shame,
That... crimson shame threads through the blue
Like spice – cutting those cool sensations
with hot, sharp intentions –
The edge to every catching breath,
Striking deeper into my chest
with every push and cresting wave
and every tug and sighing release.

Oh, my love, for you I’d turn sailor,
Learn to read the weather of your ways, and
Ride the tides of your affections.
No longer shipwrecked,
I’d reconstruct your gifts –
Those glances given, smiles bestowed, and
words exchanged.
Then, on that craft of sighs and hungry nights
I’d traverse you ’til I lost
All sight of land.
And there, rocking on the belly of the murmuring mystery,
I’d weave my net of words and music
and cast to catch the moonlight,
Glinting from your wavetops,
and bring it home with me.

Come, mermaid, and I’ll sing to you,
To tell you of a love between the elements.
You’d see me true
and shore to you – holding, encircling,
Delineating but never limiting,
Smiling as again and again
you throw yourself into my arms,
then run your fingers down my cheek
With a sigh like all the world’s hurt...
Easing.


*in darkness*

If you’re seeking guidance this month,
look up.
Venus lights the sky;
a wet and naked,
full-grown birth set to music,
dancing to the waves’ order.
A name to bind the cruel,
moist, hardening fire;
the dark, organic cleft beneath the
marble lines of Governance.

From this insistent voices issue,
prophesying ivy to twine
around those columns,
birds to nest in gap-toothed roofs,
and those stiff lines softened,
broken and concealed
by weather, theft and newer gods,
whose love is spoken differently.

As you travel, you will find that
Names can be slippery.
Up where the sea is colder,
and these waves crash heads and
foam at the lips, follow Loki’s light -
a spear thrown across the sea
to bring ash and blood spurting
from a lust for gold and screams.

And further yet,
In another country,
that bright, consuming mystery
has yet another name.
For love of freedom,
Lucifer ignites the eastern sky.

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.

Last blog entry

Kapow! 10

Posted on Thursday 17th June 2010 4:31 pm

It's all on! Check out http://www.poetrykapow.co.uk or http://www.writeoutloud.net/public/eventview.php?day=23&month=07&year=2010 for details!

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