Tim Carmichael

Joined March 2025

258 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 (258)

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The Long Dreaming
This poem is about human consciousness and the fact that we move through time without fully understanding it. ⭐✨🌟 Each day we wake, live for a number of hours,
By Tim Carmichael25 days ago in Poets
The One Obligation
I Am Telling You Directly About the Self. ⚖️ I am speaking to you about the fact of your own mind, not the idea of it but the actual thing operating inside you right now,
By Tim Carmichael25 days ago in Poets
Counsel of Appalachia
There is a land where ancient ridges, standing, have watched the centuries pass like morning rain, where God seemed more than ordinarily commanding
By Tim Carmichael26 days ago in Poets
The Well
old well, no bucket a frog jumps in anyway the sound of water Did you know that Matsuo Bashō (and other masters) didn't have to follow the form of a Haiku at all, it's a Haiku *because* they wrote it.
By Tim Carmichael26 days ago in Poets
Ode to Belize
By the blue and boundless water, where the sun burns bright and free, Lies a land of ancient wonders, cradled soft by Caribbean Sea.
By Tim Carmichael26 days ago in Poets
The Sun Over the Hollers
The sun spills over the hills like a broken jar of honey, staining the world in a bright, sudden glow. The heavy sleep of the land is over.
By Tim Carmichael27 days ago in Poets
The Kettle
Water hits the cup Steam lifts, swirls, and disappears The cup has not moved
By Tim Carmichael28 days ago in Poets
The Door That Was Always Open
When a wave returns to its vast source, one might mourn it, or marvel that something so brief could carry so much of forever on its back.
By Tim Carmichael29 days ago in Poets
On Precision
What we owe each other is accuracy. Not kindness. Kindness is frequently a way of avoiding the difficulty of being correct.
By Tim Carmichael29 days ago in Poets
Morning Transit
Rain beads on mailbox a truck idles at the curb one envelope slips
By Tim Carmichaelabout a month ago in Poets
The Slug
a slug moves across the flat rock leaving a thin wet line behind it
By Tim Carmichaelabout a month ago in Poets
Still, We Come
My brother is a stranger to me until he is home again jaw first, then the way he stands against a wall deciding. 🌈 I have loved men
By Tim Carmichaelabout a month ago in Pride