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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To suffer
then kill
then suffer again
is the consequence
of profit
and enjoying its gain
of knowing
the difference
but
shouldering the blame
ignoring the consequence
again and again.

Words and foto Tommy Carroll

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I smoke and watch her

pack.

The taxi waits.

Then like a premonition

I have a mirrored memory

of her departure-

the scent of her 

washed skin-

recalling the

ins and outs of our arguments...

She's smiling as she 

leaves the echo of

our space.

She's laughing as we fail

to finish yet another argument...

I pick through the remains

of the accusations

th...

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I saw you waiting 

in the light 

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