Time doesn’t move slow
If you were a butterfly you’d know
Chase the glow
Inspiration
Gentle melody
Flow
Cognition
Ephemeral beauty
Know
Transient light
Moon lit night
Carry it home
—Timothy Charles Carter

this blood
an unseen weeping
pour me into the palm
of your hands
I wanna
flow

Yesterday
The streets were wider
Now they're narrow
I would go
To the place of mystery
Is gone

Truths revealed
The wide-eyed wonder
Of a child has seen
Into the eyes
Of that distant dream
I had dreamt
The visions
Of a peaceful life

I live
The remnants
Of that child's
Dreams come true

Take my hand
And take my feet
On the paths
That no one
Has tread before
No one knows the pain
That dreamer's feel

I cross these rivers
Deep and wide
I search through
Valleys deep and wide
The other side starts
Where each new day begins

Now today
I will walk the streets
Of yesterday have passed
Into a new beginning
Is in what I see

From the bridges
On the rivers
That flow from yesterday
It's clear
That I am dreaming
My reality

Dreams are real
Make them happen
As a child
Plays the games
That are reality
At any age.

A man shouting at the distant sky:
ridicule the futility of such an act.
Witness untethered anger,
for a cloud begins to pass through.

Hear weeping as the cloud departs,
its loss unnoticed by the sky.
Confused at the insanity displayed,
ignorant to the rhythm of nature.

Mock the one who mocks,
blind to the drifting sky within.
Shed tears for his scattered echoes of frustration,
caught in his own storm, yet unaware of the calm.

Mumbling a prayer,
a man may save his fleeting breath.
Blind to the rhythm nature weaves,
one day, your voice will ride the breeze.

Comfort flows
Between

Inspired words

Gliding
In wind tunnels.

No,
There are no

Nails

To drop strings
Down to.

Do not tally
This

As a problem
Blustering

Away
Any ease.

We may be
Tossed along

A cursive line,

But when seen
Out of the

Tunnels,

There is us
And rhythm.

I'm on a Bukowskesque roll,
pounding the poems out
seven or eight a night.
I know it won't last.
It's like a fast.
It's the hunger that
drives you.
And when you're starving,
you eat--then rest.
Not today, though;

I've hit
my stride.
And the night is mine for
the taking.

And the words are mine for
the ******.
And my heart, I am staking
on the fact
that
I will stay
hungry.

You’re a *******,
We have captured that in essence
And I told you that no where was safe
Save your lies of transgressions
I’ll show them all, each and every message
And have the kid you decried
Seal your fate