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Phil Kay

Updated: Sun, 15 May 2016 06:56 pm

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Biography

56 years old male, at sea for thirty-five years, lived in New Zealand, Japan and Singapore. Now in Cottingham which is a suburb of Hull. Psychiatric nursing for ten years. Got a small leather bound dictionary at about ten years of age inscribed with "From reading comes knowledge and from knowledge comes wisdom". I believed it and have never had a day when I have never read. Unrepentant punk rocker. Poets I love are Joe Strummer, Lynton Kwezi Johnson and JCC, Sam Hunt and Auden. Ginsberg and Beat. Dylan. Poe. Saw Mike Watts perform in Hull and his energy and delivery blew me away. Ive always "written" something but I started writing with intent last year. I wrote/write as therapy and communication with people around the world who are in our lives. Ive done two... five open mic nights now..... Lot of talented people in Hull to learn from.

Samples

When I dance in my minds eye with angels. And fear being deserted and alone. I saw the old woman in the church yard saying another goodbye at the same stone painting another farewell scene of ancient love. And I don’t fear that which lies beneath the grass deep in soil and farewell clothes and trinkets of memories sent on a journey of hopeless hopes and boundless groundless prayers for salvation and loss so much loss. And pain so much pain endless pain. To walk on the path and see transcendent light floating in the midst of the mind just out of sight. I envied the ones whose certainty opens the eye to believe. Then I met an American who told me about Adam and Eve. And thought about my mum and dad who couldn’t eat fruit because of the war. And thought that an apple was a poor excuse for revenge and saw the humour in a god who played these games and thought he is a joker. And then laughed at the stupidity of certainty that still makes us ponder mans duality. A fight for life that dances around and around forever. But where does it go as we weave our paths? Where are all the loves we never met? Everything all of it everything all of it. There in the wavering past which dances To its own long written tune and sings the song That tells us we have to live on in the future time of unplanned but unbound limitless deceit.

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

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Displaying 2 events (1 Nov 2017 to 30 Nov 2017)

Hover over an event to see the details. (Open Mic open mic event, WOL Write Out Loud event)

Thursday 02 November 2017

Beverley » 8:30pm

Thursday 16 November 2017

Hull » 8:00pm

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Comments

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elPintor

Sun 19th Jun 2016 00:21

Wow, Phil..young or disinterested, or whatever the excuse, I have a hard time believing that such dramatic events are somehow irrelevant after the passage of only a few decades. I mean, it isn't as if the events in Chile after Allende was overthrown occurred in some sort of political vacuum. Central and South America were hot for quite a while. That said, I believe there's much more to it all than the "disinterested" would care to know.

I'm glad to see someone write about these things..there's no good reason for such bloody history to be so soon forgotten.

elP

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Paul Point

Mon 6th Jun 2016 13:18

Thanks Phil - Some great lines in the poem above! Paul

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Ian Whiteley

Fri 3rd Jun 2016 23:24

thanks for the kind and supportive comment on 'Xenophobe' Phil - glad you liked it mate
Ian

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Wolfgar Miere

Wed 18th May 2016 09:40

Hi Phil, thanks for your comments about Black Lung...very much appreciated.

David

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Laura Taylor

Fri 13th May 2016 09:55

Morning Phil

Yep, just read the addition to Granddad - spot on, well worth revisiting it for the edit. So poignantly observed. My nan stopped with my grandad, though he was a total bastard to her. That's what women did back then, eh?

Oh and hey - nice to meet a fellow Thatcher hater haha :D Tis a shame you're in Hull otherwise I'd have said come to the book launch.

God, the gig was amazing, I'm glad I've managed to do justice to it with my review :) No, he didn't do that one - but I will look for your poem.

The trick with performing is to practice til you're sick of it, til your mouth knows it. Take your paper up with you so you can read from it if you need to. And always take a nice deep breath before starting. Remember that no one wants you to fuck up, they only want to support you. Open mics are wonderfully supportive places cos everyone knows how terrifying it is. It gets easier the more times you do it, honestly. I spent the first two years of performing wanting to evacuate from every orifice all day beforehand :D It's a massive buzz though. And that's why we keep doing it to ourselves!

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