Timothy Charles Carter: Favorites

Mari Chubinidze

I’m simply worried about the cruelty of nature,
Or perhaps about the carelessness of humans...
The fires,
The scorched homes,
The injured people.
Could I write about birds and animals at a time like this?
I don’t think so, because they too die,
They too turn to ash.
A single city can be entirely consumed by fire,
And our efforts prove meaningless.

Jan 22 Timothy Charles Carter

The Boy

Jan 22 Timothy Charles Carter

Mari Chubinidze

The Boy

A boy sells flowers picked from graves at the market gate.
A black heart.
It will rain, and petals will fall from the flowers.
His warm tears will blend with the cold rain.
Who has time
For misfortune

Jan 22 Timothy Charles Carter

Price

Jan 22 Timothy Charles Carter

Mari Chubinidze

Price

The price of something, precise and clear,
To know the price of an object, matter, or our failure.
Of a powerless state of mind,
Or the ice cream we eat.

Jan 19 Timothy Charles Carter

Swallow and Rain

Jan 19 Timothy Charles Carter

Emma

Swallow and Rain

behind glass she sits,

swallows dart through falling rain,

dreams take flight with them.

#haiku

Jan 18 Timothy Charles Carter

:|§|: The Kids are not Alright :|§|:

Jan 18 Timothy Charles Carter

Jeremy Betts

:|§|: The Kids are not Alright :|§|:

I had a dream last night
About suddenly waking up
But the dark had engulfed the light

Gone was the fight
Both sides giving up
On simple wrong and right

I'm awaken to a primitive plight
Ageing but not growing up
Somewhere out in the multiverse I might

Forget reaching the highest hight
It's not looking up
Not a single goal in sight

The futures not too bright
It's burning up
While we argue who hit ignite

It's too much to take onsite
No throwing up
Only ingest a small bite
Maybe it will be alright

©2025

~ Villanelle ~
A fixed-form poem consisting of five tercets and a quatrain, thus containing nineteen lines. A villanelle also follows a specific rhyme scheme using only two different sounds.
ABA (x5)
ABAA (x1)
~
The word Villanelle comes from the Italian word villanella, which means "rustic song or dance".
~

#villanelle #dream #dark #light #fight #surrender #wrong #right #primitive #plight

Jan 18 Timothy Charles Carter

Fist Blossom

Jan 18 Timothy Charles Carter

Rob Rutledge

Fist Blossom

Again the fist unfolds.
Fingers unfurl red
Petal blossom of a rose.
Scent of a broken nose,
Stain shed on shaven heads.
Kings with no crown nor throne
Lay prone in whitewashed beds.

Thorns in their own sides,
****** in their own right.
These manicured monsters
Cry a challenge unto the night.
Marching on through kebab dreams,
Weeks 'for we speak of Halloween.

Jan 18 Timothy Charles Carter

Fallout

Jan 18 Timothy Charles Carter

Rob Rutledge

Fallout

Banished to the grey.
A conglomerate of clouds
Surround and shroud the day.
A world found still
Shrill sound of silence.
Echoes of shadows
Grace violence on our walls.
The blood of our compatriots
Our lovers, our fools.
Ours, not yours.
Potential and not a tool.
"Too little, too late"
Muttered the lips of fate,
For the ending is well overdue.

Jan 18 Timothy Charles Carter

Iron Sky

Jan 18 Timothy Charles Carter

Rob Rutledge

Iron Sky

An Iron Sky, sighs.
Provides the rusted
Rhythm of the night.
Silence supplied,
Swiftly denied.
Wisps of winter light
Smitten by the smile of night.
That obelisk of shade,
That monolith of shadow,
Minor burns,
Wounds carved shallow onto skin,
Flesh lays fallow
Till iron breaths again.

Jan 18 Timothy Charles Carter

Magician

Jan 18 Timothy Charles Carter

Rob Rutledge

Magician

What kind of magician are you?
One who would carve a heart in two.
Offered as truth, the audience view
Miraged oceans made of sand.
Light retracts, distracts,
Sight fights sleight of hand.

The eyes will see what you will show,
The mind will always think it knows.
The heart will lie, cheat and steal.
While smiles conceal, frowns reveal
That still we can't say what is real.