The poetry of Phil Royal continues

Phil performed some of his poems at the annual Kintyre Songwriters’ Festival in July 2022.

Watch the video.

A selection of poems is displayed below and you can sign up for email updates here


Sympathy for the Salesman

Virtual Paranoia

Please forgive the salesman
Though his crimes are cruel and many
His deceit so mean and heartless
As he grasps for your last penny

He wears his coat of many colours
And sweats all night on his pitch
Then crawls bleeding to his cell
To his cold, demanding witch

Behind his lying, smiling face
Watch this man, condemned to spin
Destitution haunts him always
But you must lose if he’s to win

Fools and cynics, one and all
All fall victim to his words
Which fall in torrents from the sky
And drives us cow-like into herds

He thinks forever of escaping
Freedom from his foul profession
But the show goes ever onward
Driven by his dark obsession

Illusion it may be that cruelly defrauds
Pick up your buy one, get one free
For it will bring you happiness
Just give all your money to me


Listen to computer
Learn to read computer
Learn to talk computer

No secrets left, no private life
As they gather the data
To build up your profile
For marketing purposes

Retire your mind, rely on online info to see you through
Don’t think for yourself,
take views off the shelf
They’re waiting to be downloaded

Stick to your prejudice,
join others in stasis
Trapped inside the machine
Shout slogans at others,
forget that you’re brothers
Be rude if you like
they can’t reach you

Don’t listen just talk
no need to walk
You can get all you need from your chair

They’re grooming us and once they are done our feelings will be what they tell us

Take it from me, you must fight to stay free, or drown helplessly in the virtual sea

Your liberty is threatened!
Protect yourself!

I do not mean the words I say

A woman of breathtaking ambition

I do not mean the words I say
In any legally-binding way

When writing verse I sometimes find
That out of nowhere comes to mind

A thought, an image that might shock
That I feel obliged to block

It goes so much against the grain
To censor thoughts that could cause pain

I do not spare myself the grief
Of thoughts that contradict belief

As I may reach the holy grail
Of inspiration to retail

Please note I do not mean this either
It’s just a snapshot from the ether

A woman of breath-taking ambition
examined her thoughts to find truth
No better attempt has been written
In the wisdom of age or the courage of youth

Did she discover an emptiness
And fall victim to hopeless depression
In her search to describe her own inner life,
her attempts to give others expression?

I can never know, I must look for myself
Pierced below the water-line, she floundered
And that drove her to her watery grave
will I just find the void she encountered?

If we strip away all our pretensions
To find some sort of disclosure
Is there a small bright light at the end of the line
Or third degree burns from exposure?

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