If,

That world was lacking

Then let there be some blessings

For all people may be blessed with hope

As every person there is the hope

Of better days ahead

Life doing a hang ten

Lovely wonders in this place

Dreams of joy

Happy escapes

Bless all with the kindness of people

Keep them from harm and

Keep them from evil.
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What is my biggest influence as a writer?

I feel that lyrics, and the use of structure have been important to me.  I always feel complimented when I am called a lyrical poet.  I also like the Epics.  Homer is one of my favorites.  Edgar Allen Poe is another favorite.  I like Hiaku a lot.  Also the study and history of language including a childrens dictionary.  I like Gene Wolfe, Neil Gaimen, and children classic books, especially The Phantom Tollbooth.  I find Doctor Jeckle and Mister hide as an ultimate book I need to read again.  I like performance poetry (Slam) but not entirely.  I am a fan of comedy writers, especially one liners.  Dylan Brody is exceptional.  I like Star Trek, and the genius people behind that.  I am into genius.  I prefer stellar work.  There is much more, but I have one minute so..
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Any fucker who believes in power

 Then they don't know anything about love

 They don't know nothing

 Love can take flame and crash the party with ease

 Love can bring a dictator to his knees

 Love can greet the day with holy flames

 And put the undead into their graves

 Don't mess with lovers

 They will melt your cold heart

 Pull you into the raging stream

 So for those who are seduced by power

 Curse them

 For their dreams will be covered in

 Selfish slime

 Curse those who wish to steal the light

 For dark lack of color 

 Will expose you 

 And consume you

 Make way for love in triumph

 See the change become true

 It is time for the fades.
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I'm turning organic on my family

 They need to see what happens when I 

 Get organic on them

 And fill myself with green energy

 On anti oxidant them

 They won't know what hit them

 Family is for some

 Family is love

 Ha!

 Give me some steak and a room full of lonely hearts

 I'll give them the cheese and we shall see

 How amazing is family

 Indeed

 So nice.


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Can coffee feed the soul like a glance

 Do I have the courage to take a big chance

 To do what super man would do

 To laser the problems into glass

 What would he do

 Could he have super sex with you

 Remove your blues

 Do you really want it?

 You got to put one foot in front of the other

 Before you can fly to the sky

 I need a good reason why

 Give me one really good reason why

 And I'll take to the sky.
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I am not rich or famous

But I got that something

Don't know exactly but I got that something

Everywhere I go people seem to know

That I've got that something.
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How long

 O yes

 How long will it be

 Do i just be

 Sick in sweet sap

 Do I take the reigns 

 Pull it all in my hands

 And grab the future

 To be a winner

 To fight the holds on my soul

 To break those diamond chains

 Promises that never came

 Holy female

 Holy female

 In the winter of my summer

 I set my sights

 Move into motion

 For secret delights

 Dreams.
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Another A+ read, dive in! The Tall Thin Man—what a striking, enigmatic figure! Spanning posts from Warmest Winds and Magic V, he’s a towering presence (literally, over seven feet!) who strides through a patchwork of surreal scenes, blending menace, charisma, and absurdity. Let’s unpack this character and see what he’s all about. Right off the bat, he’s got this commanding aura. “To you I am like a God,” he declares in that 2019 poem, bending his knee with a jolt, reaching for the sky in a “big try” for victory. He’s not just tall and thin—he’s larger-than-life, a self-proclaimed deity with a hard edge. That violin he wields like a dark sorcerer, playing haunting melodies that seduce juries, whip crowds into frenzies, or soothe bloodied drummers—it’s his signature, a tool of power and chaos. He’s no passive bystander; he’s the puppet master, grinning under lamp posts at moths or slipping through cracks in reality. Yet there’s a restlessness to him. He’s always on the move—striding across environments, heading west to saloons, or vanishing down winding stairs past alligator bridges to munch a ham sandwich (that detail kills me—it’s so mundane yet bizarre). He’s got zeppelins and giant air balloons by 2025, suggesting he’s evolving, maybe even conquering new heights—literal and metaphorical. But for all his grandeur, he’s tied to the shadows. He emerges from them, looms in alleys, or stands as an “old convict” in the rain, bitter and less kind. Is he free, or trapped in his own myth? His interactions with others hint at duality. To some, he’s a guide—telling a poker-rich wanderer to “Go West!” or gesturing toward a glowing green door, stripping you of hat and coat like a cryptic usher. To others, he’s a terror—“your worst fear,” shattering minds, competing with unnamed rivals. Magic V’s posts toy with his nature: Devil or God? The question lingers, unanswered. He’s both, maybe—savage yet delicate, playful yet brutal. That dance with the violin, making you behave foolishly, feels like a trap you can’t resist. His world’s a feverish blend of the wild and the urban. Rabbits race, snakes slither into cities, drones mix with drums, and colors turn orange and purple in a reality-warping mashup with Bill Hole and James Bond at an “Anti Trans event” (what?). It’s chaotic, almost apocalyptic, yet he thrives in it. That 2016 “smelly city” line and the 2023 blood-soaked drumming scene suggest decay and violence, but he’s unfazed—alive, victorious, always returning with a “Ha!” like some immortal trickster. What do I make of him? The Tall Thin Man’s a force—part myth, part nightmare, part showman. He’s not just tall and thin; he’s stretched across dimensions, a lanky specter of ego and mystery. I see him as a chaotic neutral—neither wholly good nor evil, but a catalyst, stirring up whatever he touches. His violin’s the key: it’s how he bends the world, from juries to mad hatters. He’s got a touch of the Pied Piper, a dash of the Devil at the crossroads, and a whole lot of swagger. Compared to Bill Hole, he’s less human, more elemental. Bill’s a quirky everyman fumbling through absurdity; the Tall Thin Man’s the absurdity itself, orchestrating it. I’d wager he’s what Bill might fear—or secretly admire.