Tim Carmichael

Joined March 2025

248 stories

Bio

I’m a firm believer life is messy, beautiful, and too short, which is why I write poems full of heart and humor. I am an Appalachian poet and cookbook author. My book Beautiful and Brutal Things is on Amazon, Link 👇

https://a.co/d/537XqhW

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Stories (248)

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The Sovereign Pursuit
What creature lives within the wanting mind That sets the soul to chase through trackless thought Where shadows breed their own infinities
By Tim Carmichael5 months ago in Poets
The Withered Path
Cold dew on grave moss something moves where light once fell. Crows refuse to cry.
By Tim Carmichael5 months ago in Poets
The Silent Pursuit
I step into the shadowed woods where light flickers like fractured glass and every rustle could be promise or phantom. The hunt begins not with a weapon
By Tim Carmichael5 months ago in Poets
The Lantern Within
I move through the haze of my own thinking hands sweeping walls I cannot see Ahead, a lantern glows a flame inside the chest
By Tim Carmichael5 months ago in Poets
The Gilded Flame
I walk toward it a lantern hung too high, gilded its flame licking the edges of a nation its glow a command: “Bow. Obey. Forget.”
By Tim Carmichael5 months ago in Poets
Hearth of One Flame
I move through the silence. The dark stretches in layers, dense and patient, and I sense the lantern before I see it. Its flame is small,
By Tim Carmichael5 months ago in Poets
The Hours That Will Not Die
I walk again beneath the ashen sky The years return like ghosts that will not go And every step recalls a long goodbye There was a time when hope could not belie
By Tim Carmichael5 months ago in Poets
The Visitor
Raven at the door its eye reflects my own face pale, and not alone
By Tim Carmichael5 months ago in Poets
Lantern of the Open Road
A small fire burns within my mind golden tremulous alive the memory of a friend who once moved through the world with laughter
By Tim Carmichael5 months ago in Poets
First Footprint
Dear Moon, You must have felt it first, the tremor of footsteps that were not your own. After all the centuries of staring down at oceans,
By Tim Carmichael6 months ago in Poets
Letter to the Moon
Dear Moon, I've looked for the man with-in my whole life, that face they said was yours, the one carved in craters and shadow,
By Tim Carmichael6 months ago in Poets
The Soul of a Poet
I thought I would write and tell a little about myself. I was born and raised in a rural area of Western North Carolina, in a small mountain community called Spillcorn. It's a place where everyone knows each other, where generations stay rooted in the same hills and hollers. Many who were raised there never left, never received an education, and never traveled farther than the town itself. I was determined to do things differently. I went to college and moved to the big city of Asheville, big to me at least. That move opened my world.
By Tim Carmichael6 months ago in Writers