Wandering expositions

by Tommy Carroll

Thursday 18th April 2013 11:10 am

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We clap some Blacks,
we clap them Blacks,
tho' we mow those
others shacks
and dish out smacks,
we clap them Blacks
and forget those whacks
and their blistered backs
and hands that pick the
music tracks,

and then we clap them Blacks
them stand-up Blacks
but not them bent over blacks
for earning all your stacks
of dirty cash
and maids we lash
and keep from dash

yet we stand and ...

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I Never Sleep...  
 
When
looking at you,
I never sleep when  
counting your breaths,
I never sleep when  
watching you dress,
or serving a dish...
or writing a report...
when choosing a wine...
or turning  a page...
and sitting astride...
waiting for an answer  
then folding your arms and
then pushing toes into me,  
sighing at an excuse:
holding my face:
yes, when you are  
ho...

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Cats on Mats

by Tommy Carroll

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extract of thought
 
 ...you change the world 
when casting a shadow;
to change it meaningfully
you need to move  
from out of the shadows...
 
everything has a purpose;
everything has a state.
it's purpose is to exist;
to be formed
by chance
or change of purpose.
without a purpose
'it' ceases to exsist,
and becomes something else
the new purpose.
it can be found in  
the new th...

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I will take the crispy  toast

and get the milk

from the fridge and

put it back

And I looked at you

moving

As you smiled with dishes

In your hand

And I watched knowing

That even in this room
I missed you

And I held a hand

To your cheek
And
I ached at the
thought...

 

Tommy Carroll

 

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I breathed

her name against

her neck

 

She turned and

mouthed inquisitively

"what"?

 

I asked

of her the

time,

 

she checked her

non existing

wristwatch

 

I smiled

and went to

put on

my still damp

coat.

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Very many sadness

Very many dross

Very many leavings

That weigh a heavy cross;

If all the very manys

Had weight the weight of floss

Then all the windy blowings

Would blow away my loss.

 

Words and image Tommy Carroll

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I breathed

her name against

her neck

 

She turned and

mouthed inquisitively

"what"?

 

I asked

of her the

time,

 

she checked her

non existing

wristwatch

 

I smiled

and went to

put on

my still damp

coat.

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When Economics
has sex
with politicians
and Law
it spawns Asylums
in which
to lock up the poor
whether
dragged off to Jail
or
sent off to war
It's the
cell or the trench
for you that's

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The hour is slim!

the time to entwine

with her and

with advantage inhale

the heavy offering

from between the jaws

of her open thighs.

 

Persephone's tasty flesh

renders her cleft

of wet truth-

she can slake this thirst-

can assuage my ache

when enthralled against

the serpent earth,

with legs knotted,

we lay tangled

in ancient ruin.

 

words a...

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At what point
is love in balance?
resolved?
love is not an
unyielding beam,
but,
flects as weight
of want or force
of need offsets
another's wishes.
Yet
such scales can
never measure
loss nor the loss
of balance.

 

Words and foto Thomas Carroll

 

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Cats on mats
by Tommy Carroll

 25th June 2019

 

Wittgenstein says he:
'Languge merely pictures facts'

then changes his mind and retracts;

'It's more complex than I at first thought,

my Tractatus has all come to nought

for there's more to them cats on them mats'.

 

Words and foto  Thomas H Carroll

 

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Its size

and its sinews,

a walk-around

of my thoughts.

I'm looking-

seeking,

the oblivion

of the sheltered sun.

 

Words and image by Thomas Carroll

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When Economics
has sex
with politicians
and Law
it spawns Asylums
which
lock up the poor
whether
dragged off to Jail
or
sent off to war
It's the
cell or the trench
for you that's
in store.

 

Words and image by Tommy Carroll

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Jazz piano
 Slow
 in D minor
A note that's allowed
 like the pain
 that's caused
 and delivered
the shadowed sound
 from the speakers
 is the sigh
 that pulls me back
 to that place
 that she once held
but I wont respond
 just keep  
 the kerb 2 foot away-
no turning
 back around
 to hear her needs
my wants
 are the rear-view
 mirror
 that cause the
 eye's to blink
 wet ...

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Snip-Snip
gardening magazine
bits and pieces
print large
               text small
flowers here
blue shears crop wintry bargain buys
compost your neighbors  cabbages  
kneel and weeping dig
 
best prices paid for sheds
my hands ache with gay arrays  
                                    suduko and wire eats the bugs of heavy scent
Heaven scent and saplings bent
letters from read...

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She offered him a peach

he looked at the stars instead

The winking of a thousand suns

Wrote verse inside his head.

She lifted a burning ember

As lightning to his tread

Her searching smile

Of knowing thoughts

She claimed with nothing

said.

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Jan folded the letter
running a finger
along its crease.
 
She looked up-
 
somebody was explaining
functionality:
 
She stared
at the new argument
written on the white board
 
then returned to the letter
 
the fold:
another plane
pressing and creasing
vertices missing
corners peaking...
 
She sighing.
 
His orientation with her
disengaged;
they were now misplaced.
 
...

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'Langauge merely pictures facts'
then changes his mind and retracts;
'It's more complex than I at first thought,
my Tractatus has all come to nought
for there's more to them cats on them mats'.
 
Words and foto  Thomas H Carroll

 

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She offered him a peach

he looked at the stars instead

The winking of a thousand suns

Wrote verse inside his head.

She lifted a burning ember

As tribute to the dead

Her searching smile

Of knowing thoughts

She claimed with nothing said.

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She offered me a peach

I looked at the Stars instead

The winking of A thousand suns

Wrote verse inside my head.

 

She lifted a burning ember

As tribute to her face

Her searching smile

Of knowing thoughts

She claimed with nothing

Said.

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When Economics
has sex
with politics
and the Law
it spawns Asylums
in which
to lock up the poor
whether
dragged off to Jail
or
sent off to war
It's the
cell or the trench
for you that's
in store.

 

Verse & Photo by Tommy Carroll

 

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Just waiting

for the smile,

askance

"no? " I enquired

and waited

She sighed, looking

out of the window,

I leant forward

smiling.

"Askance" a word I'll use again.

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Thar hiz a fing in ma fridge
Tha dear not spike its naym
Han so I hav called hit midge
I fink it com from Spayn

Hit ides beheynd da Milk
And laffs wen the dor clouses
He as a chin lak Acker Bilk
An does has e' suppozez

Once he ate all me lard an gin
Han had folks there far owez
E' even ad mor drinks sent in
An spent me dosh on flowez

◄ Icelandic poem 2 In the voice of Bjork

...

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The Unforgiving

Giving causation

to the Suffrable,

like the Gallows music

of would not be Americans

giving tenure

to the driftwood words

of their own loss.

 

words and image by Tommy Carroll

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The complainers complaint
is a constant refrain

"Woe is me -points-
they're all to blame!
I'm squeezed in the middle
by those with no name
pity me not them
they're all to blame!

why don't they just send 'em  
all off to jail?
give to me not to them
coz they want the same,

give to me not to them
coz they're all to blame
them paki's and blacks
them poles and the lame
the u...

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The hour is slim!

the time to entwine

with her and

with advantage inhale

the heavy offering

from between the jaws

of her open thighs.

 

Persephone's tasty flesh

renders her cleft

of wet truth-

she can slake this thirst-

can assuage my ache

when enthralled against

the serpent earth,

with legs knotted,

we lay tangled

in ancient ruin.

 

...

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As shadows wait
for the creeping
sun
And busses wander
past
missing stops,

the times of smiles
we thought forgotten.
😊

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Haha I know

l swear

Who cometh?

A Billionair

Doth walk with

Fortunes care

but upon your

Tripping loss

A worker will

Kick thy dreadful

Dross

 

Words Tom

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 Enough said  
  and drunk,
  we danced
  and waited for
  coats
  taxis
  kebabs.
 
 holding posters
  of dead rock stars
  we climbed
  my bare stairs
 
  some more wine  
  and the best sounds on tape,
  the bulbs were painted redor blue
  no chairs
  white walls
  carpeted

my flat

 

more drink
and Tom Waits.
 
pushing each other gently
we laughed
and peere...

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Trying to fix a small door...

I have to get away and point at the moon
Bump into strangers
Let go a balloon
...
I have to get away
wander - get lost
recover my bearings
whatever the cost...

I have to return
Looking backwards and smile
Because i'm returning,
for only a while... 😎

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Soft pillows

Our relationship
was like
the folding of
fitted sheets -
when past midnight
our bed was made.

words and image Tommy Carroll

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Poetry:

Spilling a whiskey in an Irish bar

Shouting down the stairs in an empty house

Forgetting her middle name

and

Abandoning your pen

 

Words and foto Tommy Carroll

 

 

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Memories

Like wandering

Thoughts in a shouldering

crowd

Are

Humming, pointing

But not knowing that

Today

Is my last.

 

I used to know you

When once
I saw you.

 

And then I recalled

That to write

I should have

Thrown away all of my

Erasers.

 

And open the thinking curtins

 

This sun

Was suggesting

That I remove

My sunglasses.

...

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Stood up

Held back

Turned away

Bit lip

Silently swore

Left alone

Waited a lifetime

For her return.

 

words and images TH Carroll

 

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In revolt:

Those that condemn a lie,

pave the faltering ground-

Those that stand their ground, 

hold back the louring sky.

 

Words and foto Tommy Carroll

 (minor change)

 

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The more I see beyond
your reckoning words
and their sweet ache,
I realize you won
You always did
I gave,
You hid.

And this boyish want
has walked its way,
away from you
and despite my stay
and turning look
I was leaving by weighted
line and flying hook.

And this turning to your
wished for face
has piled the wanting
piled the weight
like stones not counted
but hurtful t...

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When is a frog not a tadpole?

when is a giant just tall?

how far must you travel to journey?

and whom deems a sacrifice small?

 

It depends on whom does the sizing

for they choose what's big and what's small

for whom holds the tape,  measures context

holding history's context in thrawl. 

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Murder of children

and thier children

are mothers and

cousins who recall

their grandmothers

and forget

sadly

the loss.

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Wanda,

such a time,

was an air

of

promise,

of

wanted mail,

of

envelopes,

the sort that fall when

news is good to arrive.

She would traffic

your bumper-to-bumper

thoughts,

your ushered

streets

of firm respect,

with your belief,

Her laugh accompanied

that gentle shake of head

was more

fond of you

through open doorways.

Then glancin...

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At what point
is love in balance?
resolved?
love is not an
unyielding beam,
but
flects as weight
of want or force
of need offsets
another's wishes.
Yet
such scales can
never measure
loss nor the loss
of balance.

 

Verse and photo' by Tommy Carroll.

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