Poetry Blogs (reading)
A quiet corner of the room,
curtains drawn to the night,
the gentle glow from simple lamp
that casts a magic light,
a book opened, page twenty three,
with hundreds yet to read,
the urgent ticking of the clock
muffled, paid no heed.
A glass of something warming
and shortbread on a plate,
the crackle of a fire
that dances in the grate,...
Sunday 7th April 2019 1:52 pm
Words and image Tommy Carroll
Friday 22nd February 2019 10:14 pm
Nobody knows everything
But we should know what we do
Books are there for reading
And courses there to go
Don't say:"I know enough"
Your brain, sure, will freeze
Don't let someone to laugh
If you meet someone who knows
That the rule of good knowledge
Learn what you really need
The knowledge has a good bridge
To cross it, you must read
Friday 22nd February 2019 8:17 pm
That thou may'st happly spend your day
Fair maid amongst the northern hills
With books and study that will oft defray
Your time and thought in winter's chills;
That there is pleasure 'mongst your shelves
Oh lady in your cottage home
Tis proven by each and everyone who delves
In dusty library vaults to hunt a tome;
That thy bookish studies are good I swear...
Monday 3rd September 2018 9:33 am
what spills onto the page
falls from my mind:
it tells of what is there
it tastes of my thoughts
so they are spread here with care
the page becomes
my mind bared
Friday 11th May 2018 3:47 pm
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...
Monday 15th May 2017 3:45 am
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...
Friday 12th May 2017 8:12 am
I’ve forgotten when I first read
books about John and Mary,
The Happy Train or Let’s Learn To Read
but I remember the comics
dad bought home each Saturday afternoon
from work. Bundled in his arms were
Beano, Dandy, Eagle, Hotspur, Look & Learn
and I’d devour them one at a time
and no one stopped me.
I loved the strips: Corporal Clott,
Desperate Dan, Dan...
Wednesday 14th December 2016 5:14 pm
Why you should come to Four London Poets on Saturday Dec 3rd.
Number 1). Deryl Walsh. Deryl has long been one of my favourite poets. She makes the occasional excursion into surrealism, but most of her work is observational, succinct and often very witty. I would be well pleased if she were to include the poem about dining alone in a hotel, and the one concerning a visit to the Festival Hall. Sh...
Friday 18th November 2016 2:06 pm
Dawn is naked and alive
pirouetting in the street outside
she is a broad grey sky, endless above
It's not rain...
just some foggy spray licking windows
a coat the building wears
a metaphor I cannot interpret
all irony is groggily lost on me
yawning with my whole body
struggling with the load of memory
I'm oiling daily
So maybe I should stay indoors
get the fire going, boil the kett...
Thursday 22nd October 2015 11:27 pm
WORDS OF WONDER
A word on a line
joined with many and more,
a story to tell
from behind a closed door.
A line on a page
and a paragraph to make,
from a thoughtful sage
to the ones who forsake.
A page in a book
telling tales short and tall,
just have a quick look,
hear the whispering call.
A book on a shelf,
many dusty old tomes,
a wealth of words
from across quiet rooms...
Thursday 24th September 2015 8:55 pm
Books Ladder Books Books
Books Ladder Double Window
Books Ladder Books Books
If you didn't understand this: you should have read this like you see a picture in front of your mind's eye. This is more a joke than serious poetry.
Sunday 26th July 2015 11:51 am
He whispers in my ear,
With words contrived to change opinion.
Long, spindles of fingers,
Reach into my brain,
The shocks of his sorcery.
He tells his story, with whispered murmurs,
Using the language of his creator.
Goes beyond expectation, 'til at last his spell is woven,
And the memory of his touch,
Leaves me yearning,
Wednesday 14th January 2015 11:49 pm
Someone read my poem
Yesterday. I didn’t like it.
When they had finished,
I told them they had read
It in the wrong way.
I said, ‘it’s not right.’
I said, ‘read it like this;
Someone read my poem,
Yesterday. I didn’t like it.
When they had finished.’
There I stopped. I said,
‘Wait, I’ll try again;
Someone read my...
Sunday 9th October 2011 12:50 am
Wednesday 7th September 2011 10:56 am
Friday 15th July 2011 6:11 am
Blind Alley (old poem)
The psychic grinned at me
as I slid her a twenty.
She slapped the cards down
and stared intently at them.
Her eyes raised
to meet mine,
and I knew the bullshit was coming.
Her mouth moved swiftly
just like her hands over the cards,
but all I heard
were my own thoughts.
She paused to let her words sink in,
but I thought about the pieces
Tuesday 10th May 2011 1:59 am
Hope you enjoy it!
Tuesday 29th June 2010 12:24 am