Poetry Blog by Phil Kay

Tags from last 12 months

Recent Comments

Martin Elder on Granddad. (8 hours ago)

poemagraphic on Granddad. (1 day ago)

Philipos on Granddad. (1 day ago)

poemagraphic on New York New York Bronx. (2 days ago)

poemagraphic on Filey Butlins 1960 something (2 days ago)

M.C. Newberry on New York New York Bronx. (13 days ago)

M.C. Newberry on My Mate Nicky (Tue, 24 Mar 2020 04:11 pm)

Vautaw on My Mate Nicky (Sun, 22 Mar 2020 12:47 am)

Martin Elder on Ah' Chris mate. 8th June 1982.Ah' Chris mate. 8th June 1982. (Mon, 10 Jun 2019 09:51 am)

Wayne McLellan on Butlins Filey 1960 something. (Wed, 24 Apr 2019 11:27 pm)

Granddad.

Granddad 1930

 

My Granddad went to the First World War with the East Yorkshire regiment, he lied about his age and got signed up early in the war, four years in those trenches destroyed him as the good humoured kind young man he’d been…..

 

 

Granddad

Grand lad

Blanket row

to

East Yorkshire

Regiment

Battle garland

“Oppy wood”

18 yrs old

Covered in mud

...

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Filey Butlins 1960 something

Filey England 1960 something. 

 

The shed smells of shit

 

Its not a shed its a chalet

Its boxed happiness

Its freedom

From desolation

Its a summery

Destination

With a swimming pool

 

Full of polio

 

Cold shivering 

skinny kid

 

Its the place

We leap

Like national sheep

Laughing in unison

Drunken fornication

Shimmering castigation

...

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New York New York Bronx.

In 1983 I went to New York. Quite a lot, but this time I decided I wanted to see the Bronx. I was told it was dangerous, and its possible flouting that danger was part of ptsd I'd accumulated the year before. Anyway it took me two goes... the first time I was stopped walking alone towards the Dock gates by one of New Yorks finest. He left his vehicle with pistol drawn, before asking me what I was ...

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Bronx

My Mate Nicky

Nicky New Zealand 1999

 

His hands shook

His face contorted 

He fought with 

His stomach

Every morning

Palsy’d whiskey

Into his coffee

At breakfast

Thought no one

Noticed

As his new day 

Was inhaled past

His vomit rotted

Teeth.

 

His breath stunk

His skin was

pallid

He hadn’t washed

His eyes 

Were like

Dark

Stained glass

Po...

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In his image.

In his image.

 

Stumbling through the chaotic selfish masses,

whose passing kicks and punches at honesty

destroy the desultory syntax that paranoia inflicted.

Curling the lips of the long kindred spirits.

Lips curling with semi happiness of nervous distrust

Lips curling with the comfort blanket of disbelief.

Brown kids looking at white kids thinking your a liar

White kid...

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In his image.

In his image.

 

Stumbling through the chaotic selfish masses,

whose passing kicks and punches at honesty

destroy the desultory syntax that paranoia inflicted.

Curling the lips of the long kindred spirits.

Lips curling with semi happiness of nervous distrust

Lips curling with the comfort blanket of disbelief.

Brown kids looking at white kids thinking your a liar

White kid...

Read and leave comments (0)

Open letter to god

Are you there god?

Are you sure?

What gives life

To all the poor?

When your all good.

Why do we have

So much blood?

When your sat in heaven

Why kill our children?

When your so sublime

Why make life like

A poor mans mime?

If you answer prayer.

Why give cancer

Its ghastly lair?

You’ve lost your touch.

Its all too much.

When there’s so much war.

W...

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