Tim StiX alias Tim Styx. Manic Master of The Internet of Things and The Sober Bard.
www.TimStiX.com
Invertebrate tombed in the dark nadir Wrestles in its sleep Worm of lore, covets gore, brain to bore, tender core Wrenches free from slumberland
By Tim StiX3 years ago in Poets
Nine Well, here it is. The most important day of my life. It has, finally, arrived! Not that I have been looking forward to it. In fact, I have been dreading it, if truth be told.
By Tim StiX3 years ago in Education
My manic brain Charged up to run The data bus Route one-o-one Characters flow Onto the page A miracle Spiced with Sage
This is an honest yet light-hearted look at the joys and simplicity of creating your own Website. Make no mistake, this Article is totally serious and will hopefully give you the determination to achieve your goal.
By Tim StiX3 years ago in 01
One Month in ... Looking back over the last 30 days, from twenty-nineteen plus one to twenty-nineteen plus two. What have I achieved?
By Tim StiX3 years ago in Journal
Yes, last year, the unforgettable and sobering year, has passed. We have now, thankfully, moved from the Plus One to the Plus Two; Twenty, Twenty-one.
By Tim StiX3 years ago in Motivation
Little Mickey, the Mouse from Hell Is He takin’ the piss? It’s so hard to tell A threat masked in pep To the bridge we all shlep
The Vast Grand Canyon The Grand Canyon. Etched and carved from rock by the Colorado River in Arizona, USA. One of those bucket-list destinations, to visit and absorb.
By Tim StiX3 years ago in The Swamp
Putting an end to the Scam 90 Days In So here I am, ninety days into defining a Vocal Tradition. With 19 articles and 13 poems, combining for a total of, 1064 reads and $6.29.
When my dearest grandparent, my much loved and beautiful Grandmother, Dorothy, passed away. She left a box labelled, “To my Darling Grandchild with all my love”.
Hangman ... Let’s dance Start this party off with some Romance Don’t call me Grim But you can call me Reaper Black as tar
Some find paradise here on earth Fulfil the life, for which we search But what of you and what of me Lost in time, plutocracy