I stood and stared-

a long time seeking

a welcome gaze

that returned my greeting.

The World stared back

then went its way,

perhaps to lunch,

perhaps to play.

My friend the Mirror-

a listener of sorts,

in silence watched

and kept its thoughts.

Words and foto T Carroll

Read and leave comments (2)

 words  TH Carroll

Read and leave comments (1)

Repost in memory of the 50th anniversary of his birth.

"I love Bill Hicks (while being tickled)

    ...I love Bill Hicks (laughing)...

...no no, stop...

   ...I love Bill Hicks (laughing)...

...no I love Bill Hicks honest...

     ...hahaha...shhh...

...I love Bill Hicks behave...(laughing)...

    ...shh...stop it! I love Bill Hicks..."

(wistfully)

Bill Hicks

d...

Read and leave comments (5)

...a page turner

a page turned...

(sigh)

scratched scalp

look out the window

from my seat.

And back to the book...

This is the fourth

or is it the fifth

time I've read this 

un-giving text?

Look at the fire...

Feel the warmth

from its coals.

Think text...

The words...

will not make sense...

Why am I waki...

Read and leave comments (14)

I lost my care-full

soul...

where?

there,

down by the sea...

She cast a smiling

glance...

where?

there,

looking back at me...

I'm sure

I left my soul...

where?

there,

down by the sea...

I stooped to pick

it up...

where?

there,

down by the sea...

I watched as

she walked away...

where?

Read and leave comments (3)

Not knowing where she was

I strolled

along the sodden broken

street.

My hands pocketed, clutching

the purloined

'tenner' in my right hand- 

whistling.

Not washed in three days

I boulevarded

with open jacket and loose

checked tie-

acknowledging the askance

looks

with a cheeky grin.

How great the feeling-

a whole

day ahead ...

Read and leave comments (2)

Postman's been- no cheque,.

Woman next door's a Pole- not a Czech.

I left the gas lit- I better check.

I don't like stripes- I prefer check.

This poem's pointless- oh dear.

words and foto- Tommy Carroll

Read and leave comments (4)

I'm losing it

I'm losing it

I'm stood right here

refusing it

an ice cold one

that shouts-

'get  gone!'

that thrills of 

my abusing it

I excuse myself

a ruse myself

excuses me and

I myself

deny myself

a lift from

this Moscow mule

that i drive myself

I'm losing it

I'm losing it

I'm giving in

and chosing it.

...

Read and leave comments (10)

1. New Brighton Promenade:

Morrisons coffee-very good

and 

reasonably priced at £1. 09

Creamer free.

A convivial chat with a couple next table.

Many things sorted.

2. Tower Promenade: 

Man cycles with parrot

on his shoulder.

My brand-new cycle

remains unused-

in my living-room.

I have no parrot.

3. Magazine Promenade:

On th...

Read and leave comments (7)

She sat at the far end of her high ceilinged room. I sat on her prefered chair.

We stared at each other.

Her hundreds of books were piled upon a just cleaned black wooden floor.

What was that with the light? ahh yes, clean windows- she had gone and gotten herself a window cleaner.

' I'm  listening to ''Bring me the head of Philip K Dick'' again' she says...

'I waited b...

Read and leave comments (1)

As her clicks

and tuts

expell her breath

a new verve arrives:

being astounding-

being fresh,

she invites all

to her surroundings.

Words and foto T. Carroll

Read and leave comments (4)

...a freedom to express.

There is NO such thing as complete freedom, not in life; art nor in postings. So- as we are all subject to discretion or compromise it is best understood that 'your words' may be posted- then someone may remove them- freedom and oppression go hand in hand in this case.
It would be a madness to assert that one is allowed to 'express whatever one wants' and not be s...

Read and leave comments (4)

Seditious seeds-

that

waiting seethes,

await awhile

for ripen time,

grow greener

and reach further up

than ill-timed bloom;

plow back injustice-

feed the fields-

a greater harvest 

than a snatched 

fruition ever yields.

Words and foto T.Carroll

Read and leave comments (3)

No need for air, for light,

just tilt your head backwards

and allow the past

to roll down your face.

Hold on to that.

Persephone shifted her weight

in time to the point

she was making.

She never stood erect-

she was always making a point.

Even with a potato peeler

there was an air

of menace-

she would mix it 

in with the mash.

Read and leave comments (2)

Jazz guitar:

slow-

in D minor:

a note allowed

to resonate

like

the pain

caused

and delivered.

The shadow

that links my arm

is the sigh

that pulls me back

to there

but I wont respond

just keep 

the kerb a foot away

from turning

back around

to her.

My wants 

are the rear-view 

mirror

that...

Read and leave comments (3)

The Treachery of  Images René Magritte 

Read and leave comments (4)

There is a Court
in the collective 
consciousness
of the workers-
and
History may yet prove
the youth
to be this regime's
Jailers

Read and leave comments (12)

In these re-lived

seconds,

my wasted, wanting, 

thinking breath

was caught 

like a tumble-drying

yesterday:

are all now repeats-

and  missed

meanings.

Washed-out context-

still-

there is always

recovery.

I may make sense of it yet.

words and foto @Tommy Carroll

Read and leave comments (4)

My book-shelves are filled

with  campaign medals

from battles with 

an inadequate education.

Read and leave comments (5)

Did you brush it from your hair?

or maybe from your teeth?...

your clothes?

Perhaps it was washed away from out of your blankets?...

or tights?...

or down the bath water?...

or flushed behind a closed toilet?

Maybe you strode away from it

or slept it out-dreamt it away-

lit-smoked- and coughed it up.

Did you lose it on a train, a taxi or in a fight?

M...

Read and leave comments (3)

In revolt:

Those that condemn a lie,

pave the faltering ground-

Those that stand their ground, 

hold up the louring sky.

Read and leave comments (2)

Read and leave comments (8)

This language that sits upon my shoulder

and skiddadles 

when aproached,

has a  vicarious sense of humour

where, from behind

a previous thought,

it shouts the punch line of my next joke.

And, when I'm about to hear the following

instruction from a leaflet

seriously written,

It crouches, looking,

at me and the page

and back to me,

then wh...

Read and leave comments (5)