How the slides don't go anywhere

 It is always down 

 When I was a kid  we would wax it

 I would go very fast

 Then land on my ass

 So I would go back and down again

 Now climbing that ladder was fun

 I would do it again

 With Super Man

 And his super friends

 Like Wonder Woman

 It is going to thrill

 You'll get the chills

 Tears will roll down

 It will be the best return

 To fun land.
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Mistakes can be serious 

 It is not a thing we are free about

 Mistakes cost 

 Mistakes can be costly

 Dreams full of something

 Dreams in my hands

 Not going with lightning today

 Going to better places

 To shake the tree of life

 I do what I can

 That is when it begins

 When I can be the better man

 The good life is good

 And it doesn't come in a can..
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For you were very rose like

 Just the way love is 

 In fairy tales

 In mystery theatre 

 All the fruits 

 Every potion

 Every poison 

Splashed across my window

 Something sick

 Something for the heart

 Cracking it the picture 

 The place 

 Beyond the picture frame

 Now that is art.

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Mental Health as I know it this moment.

1.  We would be best if we were happy and content

2.  The basics under that are:

Give it your best everyday and when something is bothering you give it some time to slowly and carefully think it through.   Carefully and slowly think it through.

Silence is more powerful than speeches

In loving others words can even spark conflict

The truth is always awkward

Silence is golden, but we need to learn how to use it..
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Change is like an animal 

 Not like a human

 Change has a big beautiful tail

 And a tale to tell

 Change will rock you 

 Almost insane

 Till your eyes widen

 And the path opens wide

 And it is full

 Of liquid life

 Your ways divided as rocks do.
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You got it and then you don't

Mirrors and smoke

 Laughing your way back to infinity

 It is full of silver leaves

 Humming birds strike

 As if you were breaking

 Ask me 

 I am open for the taking

 Dreams suck the trains 

 The coach car with lemonade

 Your hand is dangling out the window

 Strait to my heart

 Strait to my heart

 For love had found itself in an unlikely place

 Found it in your invisible arms.
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Trying is a bit part of life.

People gain more by trying

 Even if they don't win

 Effort is in itself very rewarding

 Indeed.

Hi I am the Author of this book.   I can tell you this book was really fun to write, but felt impossible to finish.  This shows that man can indeed give birth.  No actual babies of course, but in some ways just the same.  I HOPE IT GROWS INTO A BIG SUCCESS.
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Looking at it 

 Spinning it around and round

 Every facet fell apart

 Except for the part

 That had a heart.
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The fork was kinder that broke into my mouth

 Almost cutting me up

 Like a drug war in my head

 But there is a door in the sand

 There is a path in the door

 All around and everywhere

 Opening the horizon

 To numerous fields 

 Where things happen

 In fact.
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The past come alive sometimes, but not often. We are fools to think so highly of the past then and to want it to be the road to the present.


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First thought

 Was not right

 Second thought

 Maybe

 You could be missing 

 Way down the road

 Missing something

 You wish you would have seen it go

 Wishing doesn't start things

 Like a good dream

 If only you knew

 If only you could see

 I might change your mind.
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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.