Chalk undulates across Southern England
Hills, gentle yet steep
Can be overtopped by clay peppered with flints
So treasured by the old folk

As old as the hills is true here
The chalk is a two hundred million year ocean
Stiffened and folded over time
By our living planet

Several human species
Have hunted  in these valleys
Have dug into and sculpted these hills
Have left their ghosts ...

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After the Dance

We wade though the bright grass

Tired, footsore, happy

Hearing a bird calling by the reeds

Notes curling amongst themselves,

Spinning through the warm air

Distantly, traffic busies itself,

Here, tranquillity reigns,

After a full night dancing,

We walk.

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English summers, often damp, can invoke long stifling twilights

Nothing landbound needlessly moves

Contrails crayon across the sky

So many, this close to London’s hub

Distantly, the buzz of a low plane, pleasure rider reaching up

Into the realm of the starlings as they sussurate

A car comes past in the lane droning away round the curves

Here the runway cross remains

The old...

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Solar thoughts or To our mistress, the sun

Source of heat and fuel for life

Beautiful at the horizon

Painting clouds and sky

We bask and burn in her glory

And she  sits supreme at system centre

Girdled by her planets

Visited by stray comets

Regally burning  

Interior electrons impede her light

Rendering our glowing orb opaque

Not that you can see this

It would burn your eyes out

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Fixed Mindset - Genre Transformation

I will not be stuck in a fixed mindset.

I will not be stuck in a fixed mindset.

I will not be stuck in a fixed mindset.


Fixed mindset is a state of mind.

You can change your mind.

But are you willing to change your mind?

I will not be stuck in a fixed mindset.


What is a fixed mindset?

A fixed mind.

A mind incapable of opening or being opened.

A bad habit an...

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now start breathing,

everything around is around for the same reason. 

Catastrophe, catastrophe its all the same feeling

i'm too old to move on, i'm too old to keep dreaming.


When to move on is to grow and to grow is not leaving,

in a promise land we grow, and speak of the same reason

we speak of heaven and hell like they're not the same demon.


Well to move...

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Beliefchilldrugsepiphanygodheavenhelljesuslifelordlyricsmodestmodestyopen mindpoempoetryreadreadingrelaxreligionwritewriterwriting

Villiers Path: Scalloped Time

entry picture

Villiers Path: Scalloped Time is the second chapbook published on my Seethingography imprint, part of Sampson Low Publishers Ltd. I will be reading from this, for the first time, next Saturday, 20th May, at The Flying Horse Cellar Bar, 6 Oxford Street, London. The event is FREE and runs from 7pm - 8.30pm.

This is as part of an event to launch David Russamano's first chapbook, (Reasons for) Movi...

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chapbookeventfree eventlondonpoetryreading


entry picture




Here in accordance with Italian tradition

A piece of iron, a vintage bottle opener;

How easily it slips into the hand,

How hard it worked and for so long

Removing numerous crown tops,

How often thrown across bar or café

From one sweating palm to another,

Then how long redundant, abandoned

In a drawer or some dark corner.


May your marriag...

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David SubacchiPoetry


The more I go

The darker it gets

Doesn't matter what is my choice

It's always the wrong one

I missed all the tracks

But there is no survivor left in me

I wish I was the never ending story

That at least came to end.

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The last farewell this winter brought

And just like that, you're gone,

The memories fade away, you're lost,

No matter the action , the consequences are the same.

The thought of you not being here,

The thought of missing you,

Those are concepts I can't wrap around my head.

With fear I live the upcoming days,

Questioning my own existence,

Questioning my own rebellion, I slowly understand what you meant.


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entry picture

My thoughts on paper hour after hour

When I lie in bed or in the shower

I do it all so you can glower

I'm the insignificant Poet


I stand up here and on my own

Hearing every sigh and groan

Whilst you sit and play on your mobile phone

I'm the insignificant Poet


I write it daily, profound and deep

Words to make you laugh or weep

Inspired whilst you were fast as...

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lonelynessOpen MicperformancePoetry

The Birkenhead April Fools

entry picture

It seems timely, in more ways than one, to post this poem today. It was the local paper of my childhood, the Wirral Globe, which first introduced me to the concept of Fake News with its locally legendary series of April Fool spoof news articles. But it's chilling how close some of these have come to reality...


The Birkenhead April Fools (for Dot Humphrey)

We argue still, my Mum and I,

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Super Mum: Another Working Class Hero

She’s got two part time jobs

and works her fingers to the bone

a single mum with no support from him

but she made that house a home.

Empty promises of child support

to help to feed her pack

every bloke she’s ever known’s

always fucked off and turned their back.

She doesn’t feel resentment

she never has the time

if she gets an hour to herself each day

she swears tha...

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austerityhardshippoempoetrypovertysingle mumworking class

Around the Cirrus and Nimbostratus

entry picture

Scoliosis – Abnormal lateral curvature of the spine – From the Greek Skolios

The angel used to dance high above
from down here
I gleefully watched her run rings
around  the Cirrus and Nimbostratus
through long daylight and short moonlight
only touching the soil with her feet to make sure we were still safe and warm

Watching her stumble was an unnerving sight
the snag of a razor thin wi...

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familymothermothers daypoetryscoliosis

A Million Questions Unanswered

It's just another typical night out with the lads
the beers are flowing 
and shots are being downed
while shamelessly flirting with a hen party
enjoying a night on the town.

See that fella over there?
Aye that's the one
life and soul of the party
filling the air with banter and bravado
a proper mans man
tough as old boots he is.
Captain of his local rugby team
he's got hands like shove...

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depressionmen's healthmental healthpoetrysuicide


They make you promised,

But when the promises are broken,

They shout to the world that you are a liar.


They forced you to believe,

But when you lose faith,

They swear to god that you are not a believer


They seek your love,

But when you are forced to love them,

They says you are a slut, that's only want to play with their heart.


They craved for happiness,


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entry picture



 Some of us never get to feel it

 That magical moment

 When you hit the ball just right

 Or that high note

 The one that shatters glass.


 And we never experience

 The thrill of discovery

 As Lord Carnarvon

 Staring into history

 At the tomb of Tutankhamun.


 But you had more than your share

 Though you never looked for it

 They say...

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David SubacchiLiverpool poetrypoetryWelsh Poetry

Silence (or is it something else?)

The silence is deafening


I'm not sure when the silence stopped being calming


At some point the comfort of quiet turned into a prison


It's not that there's no sound, not exactly


I think I just stopped listening 


Now I can't listen, even if I try


I think I just stopped remembering how


It's not that I can't hear, not exactly 


At some poi...

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International Women's Day

entry picture

Pages and pages of pink and pink
roses on dresses and slender chic drink,
All pictures pretty some might think
but none reflecting strength, and that's the thing:

Women's Day isn't all flowers and hearts
it's message shouldn't be limited before it starts,
we are more than our constituent parts
so today try to tear stereotypes apart -

Support our differences, our quirks,
you don't have...

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poempoemspoetryshort poemshort poemsstrong womenwomenwomen about womenwriting


entry picture

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Your eyes captivate my whole being 
How can something so simple be so beautiful 
Beautiful like the bluest waters in the Pacific Ocean 

Your eyes distract me from the horrendous occurrences in our society 

Beautiful can't even describe your being
Because beautiful is what you are 
And what you always will be

You captivate me 

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Everyday we walk outside 
Lose ourselves
Fall into the imaginary state
Of our Consciousness 
Look at that blade of grass
And wonder
How something so helpless 
Can be so free


Free, like the birds in the sky
And the breath pouring out of our lungs
Free, like that quiver in our eyes
When we see our love for the first time 


I'm free
To feel what I want 
Love w...

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Everyday we walk outside 
Lose ourselves
Fall into the imaginary state
Of our Consciousness 
Look at that blade of grass
And wonder
How something so helpless 
Can be so free


Free, like the birds in the sky
And the breath pouring out of our lungs
Free, like that quiver in our eyes
When we see our love for the first time 


I'm free
To feel what I want 
Love w...

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Homeless by the lovely Vienna

There were people In parks And malls and jails On street corners Standing beside a bus sign People that I didn’t know, How to help, as I watched them And very often witnessed Their issues Problems Public and private On full display, Barked like dogs who didn’t Play well with others and were On leashes too long Collars worn and tearing But still restricting The people, Their dogs, One in the same I...

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a lookdescriptionfree versehomelessPoetry

Suits and Ties

entry picture

Suits and ties…                                   


Your Corporate wardrobe titillates.

Challenges me to abandon -

invite you to swim with me –

in a sea wet with desire.

Throw off your hard shell,

your calm, controlled exterior

and reveal the let-go you.


The knot of your tie,

like seaweed trapping

the unaware swimmer,

restricting your neck -

choking.  ...

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I guess that at one time or another - if we're being honest - we've all been blinded by the white hot heat and light of our fantasies, dreams, and ambitions; as poets it's practically in our job description to be thus.

The following poem owns up to flying too close to that particular sun, and the resultant crash-and-burn,

That doesn't mean we shouldn't keep trying for the impossible though ....

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I am Certain

In every city, I go.

In every country, I have been.

The Star and the Cross hope,

That he will be with us one day.


They call him by different names,

And claim him as theirs.

Both preaching similar faiths,

Both saying they are correct.


One says he is yet to come,

While the other hopes for him again.

One says he is the son of God,

While the other says, he wi...

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CertainChristianitycorruptionCrossfaithGodHateI am CertainJesusjudaismLoveMessiahpoetryStar

Hope for another shot at life

Shot after shot,
you miss your own heart.
Trying to end it all,
just because of one missed call.
Your life is worth so much more,
it's not worth giving up because of that stupid old bore.
Don't you know,
he is a man-whore,
he is not someone you should adore.
Open your eyes,
and look around,
you'll miss the fun,
and I'll miss your beauty.
When everything is done,
you'll be praised lik...

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My Dearest Friend

You have proven to be my biggest ally, knowing

Me better than anyone else.


Shaping my thoughts into the paper canvas, opening

A door for them to see into my world.


Grateful I am for your help, lost

I would be without you.


Thank-you for being by my side, and

For encouraging me to never give up.


My dearest friend, my

Silver pen.

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Your Poetry

A few silent words lay between us
on some stained and shady card-table
for all the song and dance now skip'd along
and each chosen line stands for ten
this the burden of being penned

A bitter glass of judgement lies full-drained
truer thirst realised in venom-fail
offer a fair hearing to one dream-sane
the slightest insight magnified
for its own sake rest satisfied


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How can I tell her that I love her?

How can I show her my true feelings?

If the words “I Love You” are dwarfed compared to what I feel.

Not even all the jewelry and roses of the world could equal her beauty.


How can I describe to her?

That every time I see her my surroundings cancel out.

She is my center of attention,

That for her my heart aggressively pounds.



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emotionalemotionsLovePoetryRomantic poemsromantic poetryUncertainty


In my times of tribulations,

Arrived my salvation.

One might think it was an angel,

It was, but in the form of a girl.


She brought light into my life,

My prayer of hope in the flesh.

Her name alone is a prayer,

That brings easiness to my heart and head.


She makes me be a better man,

She has taught me to trust and love.

With her eyes, she stops time.

With ...

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I sleep

in a bed of fire

because I'm covered

in love for you.


I melt into,

turn into lava

when I see you,

love you so much

I hope you haunt me.


I'm burnt red,

a fiery paintbrush

took across a sunset.

burnt orange leaves


That fall from trees

as I fall to your feet

when I melt for you

like I do.


The seas are dry,

and parted aw...

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I Will Stand With You

I am who I am largely due to the women I have known

I give thanks to their help in my personal development

for teaching me how to express love

through vital lessons they have shown

like empathy, compassion, forgiveness and understanding

accepting me despite my many flaws and imperfections.

To all the positive female role models I've known over the years

who reassured me that s...

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equal rightsequalitypoetry

Is this me

when I look in the mirror

I don't always like what I see

because I see a reflection of me 

I ask myself is this really who I am 

people tell me to love myself for who I am 

but I hope you know I'm not my biggest fan

I probably made 600 wrongs  for every 1 right 

and how often do I try to pick a fight 

is this really me 

it once was not 

where will I go

my life is t...

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The empyrean art of philology
Replete with canker and halo
Touches the tips of consciousness
With etymylogical fervor.
Base and conniving innuendo
Coupled by oxymoronic fate
To celestial immolation proves
The ambivalence of langue.
Verse unyielding, rhythmic rhyme,
Sweltered pulsing downbeats;
The stretch and meter of poetic prose
Hold firm to a shifting parole.
In places where sagacit...

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Krypto's song

I'm on that up, up, up and away (x4)

Yay, Yay

On that up, up, up and away


We in this life not to stay

Pilgrims in the way

Straight and narrow is how it's looking

On solar power is what we cooking

Serious heat

No defeat

Know the feet

Get weary

So take flight

Let's get on that up, up, up and away

Yay, yay

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Tell me I'm broken

Tell me that it's too late to glue all the pieces back together

Like a shit mosaic we made when there was nothing better to do

My body is a vinyl that no one's played in years

Scratched and distorted but the music is still the same just heard by different ears

If my body is a temple in which my mind is the God of it's intention

Then I must surely be an athiest 


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Writer's block?

No inspiration

What am I to do?

A writer without a drive

A pen without any ink left

That isn't right!





But I refuse to rhyme that last line with a curse word

I'm in a cursed world 

And I'm suppose to be the blessing

But my lack of inspiration has got me stressing


I'll admit it - I'm weak 

But thanks be to God that in my weakness...

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Wandering expositions

entry picture

Poetry has many inspections
each line, like thought, re-touched.
We frown at fingered collections
of nouns, and other, stuff.
There are troublesome inflections
and bleeding, wrung-out, verbs,
the wandering explications
of rhymes, the metre, serves.
There are stand alone conjunctions
in hope, that it, amazes,
in solitude it functions
in contrived, schematic, phrases.



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I Hate You

I hate you 

Can't stand you

I think that I love you

You know me

Ignore me

I want you to love me

I love you 

Just want you

I really do hate you

You see me

Smile at me 

I want you to leave me

I need you

Don't want you

My heart is stuck on you

You want me 

Don't need me

Just stop talking to me

I love you

Don't love you

I just want to hate yo...

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It's the Little Things

It's the little things. 


It's when you catch him smiling just looking at you. 


It's when he reaches for your hand when he sees your heart sink. 


It's when he treats you like you're strong when you smile through the pain. 


It's when he kisses away your headaches. 


It's when he comes running just from hearing your voice. 


It's when he pulls you up and ...

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Happy Birthday (in memory)

It's been 

A long long while

And your face

Is coming back 

Into my dreams


I've searched

The whole wide world 

Across but I can't 

Find the words to 

Give you peace


It's been a long year

It's been a hard time

But I can't erase this 

Date from my mind


So I guess there's only 

One thing left to say

Happy birthday 

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Read You Once More

I have been having these moments
waiting for trains
pouring kettles
folding sheets
opening a window

I have been having these little moments
flicking through old magazines
in the off-license
glancing up at windows
looking out across the city

When the magnitude of your potential
when all the things you said to me
when the poetry you quietly dedicated
when the soft touch of your deft...

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longingpoetrythe past

Life is No Place

Life is no place

For the living

Death is no place

For the dead

Those who're alive

Are there for the pride 

And the dead



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Can I Have This Dance?

entry picture

I want to be the one to make you smile

Because I'm selfish

And your smile parts the seas


I want to be the one that makes you laugh

Because your laughing 

Reaches deep dark parts of me


And I know that you could be

With anyone but me

Without giving me a second glance 


So I hope that you can see 

How glad I am to be

With you, and that you gave me a chan...

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love poemsoriginal songpoetry


My mother calls me brave, so I am brave. 


She takes me to the bus stop on the first day of school and I am scared. She smiles and lets me go, so I smile and go. I am brave. 


She sits me down and tells me we are moving. My father will be gone a while, and I will have to make new friends. She tells me not to be sad, so I stop crying. I am brave. 


I want to dye my hair blue. I...

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free versepoetryshort formwriting poetry


Blame is so easy to do. Make you believe when it's not even true. You do it to make yourself feel better, selfishly only thinking of you. Yeah, I've been victim to it to. It's a viscous cycle were the purpose is to purposefully misconstrue. You say things that you know aren't the truth. Just to save the image of YOU. In time where does that get you, when all your words are untrue. Yeah, I'll admit...

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These Wooden Boots

entry picture

All I think of when I see these boots

is a hand full of dimes

squeaking at me through the leather

and broken soles that seem to grind

my feet to the ground


All I see is a row of wooden picture frames

and I count them, subtract them, divide them

into the hours that mark my sanity. Because I

am aware of time and can add, subtract, multiply

and divide it I breathe thro...

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human conditionpoetryshort poemwork poetryworking class


How beautiful is this rain pouring down
Lovely silver droplets all around

Beautiful silver drops falling down the lane
Washing away all unhappiness and pain
Kissing the green trees bringing them to life
Making us realise that happiness follows all strife
How beautiful is this rain pouring down
Lovely silver droplets all around
The rivers and little stream let's are gushing in joy 
The b...

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