My dad spent most of his life
singing songs wishing to be a rockstar.
“Can’t get no satisfaction” and “Mack the knife”
a handful of applause from drunks in a dark bar.

The sights I hated to see
now the person I don’t wish to be,
my potential could be monumental
if I could just turn dreams to reality.
The days of a wasted youth
ignoring a tragic truth,
I could make history by solving a mystery
if I could only find the proof.

My mom’s favourite song was “Fast Car”
but at the funeral, I picked Fleetwood’s “Landslide.”
There was no point in highlighting an old scar,
some times and places, there’s just things you should hide.

The sights I hated to see
can’t be wiped from my memory,
and what I fear the most is that there’s no ghost
that has been haunting me.
Now I get the appeal of the drink
from the cabinet or underneath the sink,
without warning, about ten in the morning
it was worse than you could ever hope or think.

My feet pushed against the white floor board
and my back leaned up against the bed.
Thinking about how the surface was scored,
the colours mix; white, orange blue and red.
In the basement with my precious; my hoard,
with the knowledge no one would know if I were dead.
Suddenly it was a thought that I explored
that maybe I enjoyed that course instead.
And to the heights I once soared,
please tell me the best days are still ahead.

one of my biggest fears is
that I'll work a 9 to 5 job
that I despise and drains me

I don't want to work a job that pays the bills
and is physically and emotionally draining
I want to do what I love and make good money

I know that that sounds naive
but I see the effects the menial job
that kills you slowly
taking everything out of you
with barely any energy at the end of the day

the seeds have been sown
they will sprout in spring
showers share sustenance

the rye is ready to reap
rooted in rocky regolith
the resourceful reward

saved for sooner, sought
by shadows; steal scraps
when spoiled seeds stink

starved so soon, save me

I saw a picture of my dad today,
It shocked me that his hair is grey.
I didn’t recognise his face,
New lines that the years had placed.
It hit me hard inside my chest,
It knocked me back and took my breath.
I do not know that man I saw,
Hardly remember him anymore.
And I wonder if he would know me,
If a picture of me he were to see.

I fell in love

As did you

I clung too tightly

As did you

I dreamt of a forever

As did you

I swore to keep it strong

As did you

I tried to make it better

As did you

I sat there crying alone

As did you

So let us try to be friends

Maybe try again

Back to when it began

Before I fell in love

Before you did too

Because one day around the bend

Maybe twenty years from now

I think I'll say I loved you

You'll say you loved me too

Maybe we'll just stay friends

Or get married in distant years

Cuz I can say I fell in love

And as did you

undisturbed
by shopping fever…
snowfall is quiet

when the sun goes up, that's when my tears fall down the most...

I wish i can remove those feelings
I don’t want them not anymore
I don’t want to feel or even want you to feel my feelings
I’m better with my own
Alone in my little world
All alone

boys will be boys
when he pulls her pigtails.
boys will be boys
when he takes away her virtue.

I waited,
dribbles of wax bled into pineapple compote.
drop by drop,
losing their spark.
I sat outside your room,
with your favourite cake beside me,
waiting for your door to open.
it never did.
The last candle burnt out
five mushy puddles of wax
a pool of tears
beside the golden cake tray.

today melds slowly into yesterday
a day gone forever, seemingly
but we can only see-
as far as the end of our nose

I watch as the droplet eases itself
down from the wound, into a strip of paper,
scarlet on crimson. some might call it a stain,
but this is no mistake, I will fold myself
in, like blush on cheek, I will make it look real.

is it pathetic to imitate what we can never achieve?
the night sky gloats in silent mockery. the trail of
her dress drags along my dry eyes, and she burns
a hole for every jewel I cannot reach.

is it a sin to covet a sin? my fingers run along
the grooves of my carved pupils, and I can't
remember anything aside from the warmth
of a star in another orbit.

I fold my three hundred and fifty second paper star.
Does the moon believe that these are her children too?
Or are my paper cuts for naught? One day, I know
the paper will be skin and the star will be a sun.

but until then I will bleed, and until then
I will have to suffice with a constellation of scars
that glow in the dark on my ceiling.

I miss hearing your voice
it fills my heart
I miss my heart
full of
you
I hope you’re
full of
you

i have a box
within,
a message lies for you
these are the secret words
to open the box

when the sun rises
you and I will meet
and when the wind blows
you will know my hearts words

E - Everyone
T - That
H - Has
E - Eggs
R - Really
E - Expended
A - A
L - Lot
.
.
A song for this:
bad idea! by girl in red [E]

Dodging memories that bring me pain
I scurry through the obstacles
I set up for my foolish self
To keep me from the place I need to be.

I bruise my shins repeatedly
On dangers that I did not see
Due to the fancy mask I wear
That blocks half of my vision.

The need for haste is manifest
By ever looming banks of fog
That somehow scheme to bar my way
And keep me from salvation.
                 ljm

I was so sick of feeling heartbroken
That I took my own heartstrings
And wove the pieces back together.

In the afternoon
Below a grey blue sky
I hear the chatter
Of the magpies.
And they talk in bird talk
In words unknown to me
As they bob their little heads
By the amaltas tree.
Glad I am to hear them
I listen carefully
Happy to be in their -
wondrous company

There once was from Okefenokee
A bullfrog who sang karaoke:
     He sang with conviction
     And a crystal clear diction,
But his tone was a little too croaky.

Because plates are little and shallow
A buffet should provide a fellow
A bus tub instead,
One made out of bread,
With compartments for gravy and yellow.

Overcast days
Grey skies
Skipping to my beats
Emotional high
Let it out
Breathe it in
Universal sigh
Back on track
Found my pace
Settle in
It’s about to begin
Beautiful Day
My my
Feeling alright
Nothing to do
Nothing standing in my way
Walking straight ahead
With my vibe
Immune to time
Flip the switch on my kit
Pull rhythm and rhymes
From the sky
Written by:
Timothy Charles Carter

You’ve got 99 problems but your loyalty is one,
you’ll never solve them now the World Cup is done.
Achieved by your colours that aren’t so true,
by a Nation that once treasured you.
Gretzky I believe your reign is through.

You used to shoot and inevitably you’d score,
imagine the disappointment of each Gord.
Keep the red and white but add the blue,
betray a Nation that once treasured you.
Gretzky; no longer number one not even two.

Keep your guns and keep your hate,
Canada’s not your fifty-first state.
We’ve always been a Country, one that’s great.

Went to a room and ignored the sign,
now we’ve changed the labels and removed your wine.
Disappointed in what you would do,
to a National that once treasured you.
The sadness and anger only grew.

An apology that will come too late,
Canada will never be your fifty-first state.
Not up for discussion or debate.

A concept you should understand,
you can’t put a “for sale” sign on our land.
The death of a legend came from the hands
of a bad man and a bad plan.
No longer the greatest of all time
after you’ve committed the greatest of crimes.

We won’t take the tariffs or the bait,
Canada will never be your fifty first state.
We’ll cement the actions and the date.

So stay in exile as is it your fate,
Canada won’t be your fifty first state,
cause it’s the one, the one that’s great.

you keep telling me that
you are not trying to be
in love, yet your hand
holds mine in contempt of
your unshakeable truth,
your adamant reservation to
the alternative truth you are


living.

In autumn is always the leaves
in summer is always the rain
without you, is always the tears
falling on my poetry
pages wet
the silence
a knife
slicing my heart to pieces

a never ending rhythm
we're a matching tempo
following the flow

Setting the strings
Held so tight
strung just right

you're the melody
in my beating heart

The problem with my son,
Is that he is very nice,
Soft spoken and kind,
He never tells us when he is hurt,
He waits for us to realise the mistake,
And that makes us more guilty.
25/3/2025

Sometimes i feel that jaw numbing pain
The one I used to feel when everything between us was
Well
What it is now
Sometimes I feel it
I feel it when you look at me and that spark is gone from your eyes
I feel it when I say hello and you do too but it's almost as if you're saying goodbye
But Sometimes I feel it
When the birds chirp the way they used to
The way they chirped when i was with you