The Author

Phil Roberts - Poet and Philosopher

Phil Roberts was born in Brisbane, Australia, and from a very early age developed a love for the arts and history. He obtained an honours degree in English language and literature at the University of Queensland and later a master’s degree in public administration. In 1971 he began a career of nearly forty years in government. Initially a librarian researching local history, he went on to positions in library management, industrial relations, policy and strategic planning. As such, he worked in a range of fields including education, family and community welfare, indigenous affairs, local government, policing and transport; he also spent two years in London. In the 1980s his literary muse arrived and he became a writer in his spare time, specialising in poetry of the spirit, love and life issues. This was to become intertwined with a growing fascination for theology and philosophy, especially moral philosophy. Phil has also been active for many years in community service, and his recreations include the arts, tennis (as a spectator), long-distance walking, and travel. He lives in Brisbane and is now a full-time writer, with a philosophy website at

Phil’s range in poetry is extensive; no topic is entirely safe from the workings of his imagination, though he confesses to failure (so far) to be able write poetically about any form of sport. One day he hopes a top-grade tennis championship will break that drought. Much of his writing is, directly or indirectly, about himself – his love life, his struggles with maturing and ageing, his struggles with issues of philosophy, and so on. However, he is also a keen observer of society and social issues, and from time to time is moved too to write about particular places, including places he has encountered in his travels. In style he is predominantly conventional though he also enjoys a modest degree of experimentation with poetic forms, provided this is not at the expense of intelligibility. For above all, he believes poetry is to be understood, with literary devices and choice of language being the servants of meaning, not the masters. Poetry which makes a virtue of obscurity becomes like the scraping violin – death by poetry.

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