Phil Kaye - Beginning, Middle & End

Phil Kaye, performing at Icehouse in Minneapolis, MN.

About Button:

Button Poetry is committed to developing a coherent and effective system of production, distribution, promotion and fundraising for spoken word and performance poetry.

We seek to showcase the power and diversity of voices in our community. By encouraging and broadcasting the best and brightest performance poets of today, we hope to broaden poetry's audience, to expand its reach and develop a greater level of cultural appreciation for the art form.

[phoebe]

to be alive in the same century as this man and his words
whew such a blessing

[payalbehara]

Sarah kay told the exact same line "every great story has a beginning middle and end. Not necessarily in that order" 8 years ago in her Ted talk...i wonder if they are still friends...would love to see them performing together💙

[marysastorm]

I love every one of Phil's poems. They never cease to amaze me. His performance and poems are all just so perfect. Not hard on the eyes either lol

[LITTLEMUSTANGFILLY]

He's really rocking the long hair.

[darkblight]

"Take me with you, dammit, I dare you." Even to a female this is relatable and beautiful.

[simranm]

Doesn't he get prettier as he gets older?

[snehadeshmukh]

"The afternoons we take photographs of our own shadows just to prove that we left a mark" made me get chills. This guy is absolutely amazing.

[MrsSmexxipants]

so beautiful to see the ways he has edited and changed the words and the way he speaks them over the years.

[corinam.]

Every great story has a beginning, middle, and end, not necessarily in that order. We are all great stories.
Chapter 394, the boy, hair still long, fingers still too short, is 98 years old. Sits at a restaurant alone. The stranger sitting next to him is eating bread pudding, the boy's favorite. the boy takes his fork, sticks it in the stranger's meal and takes a bite.
Chapter 14, the boy is 7 years old. He and his best friend have a great idea for a prank. They are sure they will not get caught. The next morning, every house on the street has toilet paper in the front yard... except for his own... they get caught.
Chapter 146, and the boy and the girl live happily ever after. Chapter 231, and the boy and the girl vow never to speak to each other again.
Every great story has a beginning, middle, and end, not necessarily in that order. We are all great stories, though not all written as chapter books. I know, there are hours not meant to be bound. When we have scribbled too much in the margins to read our own page numbers.
Like the night you thought you were invincible. Ran out into the lightning storm with a million keys tied to a million kites and a clench in your jaw that said, "Take me with you, damn it, I dare you." Or the weeks when you finally reached out to feel your father's cheeks and... just found papercuts.
I know. The nights we shatter hourglasses to fall asleep. The afternoons we take photographs of our own shadows just to prove that we left a mark, but... I stay awake, reminding myself of the wetness of my own lips. That I am a leaf off of the tree of my parents' first kiss, and if I hold my shrubs to the sky, I can still see their veins there.
Every great story has a beginning, middle, and end. Not necessarily in that order. Chapter 189, the boy, too old now to celebrate his birthdays and too young to treasure them, uses his fists. Punches his own reflection to see if it is real. Breaks his hand back into the opposite of a fist.
A conch shell of sinew. Puts it to his ear and can hear the ocean of his own bloodline. Stand up, boy. Not just with your legs.
Be your own story. You, magnificent page turner. You, 600 words per minute. You, never stop to read the back cover even though you know what happens at the end.
Chapter 431, once upon a time there was a boy. He's not here anymore. But the branches he left all hold their leaves to the sky. You can see the outline of his shadow on the sidewalk.
Prologue, once upon a time there was a woman and a man, and the first night they kissed, a seedling blossomed on the back of her neck.

[stephlovesmusic]

"The days we take photographs of our shadows just to prove we left a mark."

[thabanimadlala]

i will forever appreciate Phil Kaye and his poetry

[CeciliaLopez-cetc]

It reminded me of "Hopscotch" ("Rayuela") by Julio Cortázar. It's a novel that you can read in two different ways: you can either read it as an usual novel, from the first chapter to the last one; or as he offers you, which is skipping certain chapters and going back and forth in the book and it tells a different story!
Highly recommend it!!

[zucker]

Phil always manages to bring up feelings inside me that I didn’t know existed and I can’t thank him enough for that

[nechma]

I just love his voice like he may every word count and it's mesmorizing

[lanahsophie]

Ohhh that hair Phil and your eyes what am I even you for the love of poetry

[gabbysonga]

I love Phil so much it’s not even a joke, I recently read his book and cried a good 5 times. It was awesome reading his book because I was able to read the poems and hear him say them in my head the way he preforms them.

[saifkhawar]

I love the way the poem changed over the years. They just keep improving!

[nora_fluffy]

I love Phil's poems they sound so beautiful and calm. Reminds me of a memory I never had

[brokencrayon]

I could listen to him read a text book. His poems and how he pauses, looks at the audience...just uh love it

[tatianaleutwiler]

Phil and Sarah will forever be my faves.