Frêsh Fish |
Archive Mea Culpa. The above Archive Link & the Search This Blog Link do not work. This happened after Google, the king of search, bought Blogger?
Frêsh Fish - Much magic for a little fish.
Frêsh Fish is a combination of new and spirited with the added bonus being that everyone knows that fish is best fresh. The icing on the cake was that my mother’s mother, Lena, always told her and she me, that fish was brain food. So with Frêsh Fish we have spirited and new food for thought, ideas, that ain’t got no stink. I was suppose to eat fish today and did not. I hope I can be forgiven.
|
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Together we both sat angelic in our nature, it was beautiful and wondrous and when our wings beat they beat in time. Spring is hitting hard now with delicate delights and dazzling colors. How everything in its own way is so perfect. And once again they come just for the joy of being. © 2005 big box industries (how big are they?) Monday, March 21, 2005
© 2005 big box industries Thursday, March 17, 2005
They think it's easy. It ain't no easy. It ain't no easy when all you love is in vain/vein/vane. © 2005 big box industries what's new? cut and paste not much the cloning of mediocrity cut and paste it's not mine it's ours cut and paste I've been cut and I have been pasted and now I am stuck upon a lifeless sea with no gentle breeze my only sail the white clouds above no sirens calling rudderless in the abyss. and after many days of such I remembered the secret and the secret was - the secret was a lie. "and this shall be my covenant with you forever and always and then again; you will always be special for no two things will be the same." but now I knew my god had lied for I've been cut and I have been pasted and now I am stuck without a god upon a lifeless sea. © 2005 big box industries And like yesterday, we find tomorrow, with the sweet stink of the popcorn white pear tree blossoms , and the perfect showy yellows of the forsythias, and the caws of the hawks as they soar and mate. With a harangue of verdant greens and Mandlebrot's galore, and then of course - to the ice cream - to the screaming colors. Nothing forgotten, all the highs and lows, across the spectrum she does shine. And with just a touch only her colors will dew. All the others but a monkey's cut and paste. Soon she shall be with us and her kingdom awakens. And no matter how you say your prayers, she has never cared. For she knows that as her kingdom makes ready, you too in your heart will make a place for her. Together you will make colors and feel alive. Aroint and anon. All hail!! Spring has sprung!!! © 2005 big box industries The blood, red blood on fields of green, shed, of Shawn, Kevin, Eileen, and Kathie too. They have all broken my heart. So proud. So Irish. Happy St. Patrick's Day!! Only The Chosen know the bliss of being Irish. Fee, Fi, Foe, Fum. I Smell the Blood of an Irishman. Need a little WD 10-40 here, my myth and folklore are a little rusty. If hard pressed I would conjure that the ditty above is from Jack and the Bean Stalk. All that education and he doesn't know Jack. It is of some interest to observe that the fees and the fums are an attempt to help the young tyke master his vowels. And then we have the blood of Shawn, Kevin, Eileen, and Katie. Forgive me Father for I have sinned. I confess that I know little of the conflict between Ireland and England. But this I do know. There is lots of talk of the evils of tyrant and dictators and oppression throughout the world, and how this is wrong. But still in Ireland we have a large group of kindred souls who for hundreds of years have yearn for self rule and who have been, with a stain of red, denied. I really don't know the history of the English suppression of the Irish Catholics, but I really don't care. It would all be fee, fi, foe, fum. My heart and soul have already decided. My blood sings the songs of Shawn, Kevin, Eileen, and Katie. Ted Kennedy you are a disgrace to your clan. The shame your ancestors must now feel and have to endure. The Irish Catholics have always forgiven you all your indiscretions, the ways of all flesh, and now to find you turned but still hopeful of salvation. At least in my heart you have been banished and to The Pit with your soul. © 2005 big box industries Tuesday, March 15, 2005
Like the verdant and the bud, like Persephone, he is back. And there is a swell to the audience, they are all on their feet, erect, yelling and screaming, and delirious. He has bludgeoned them with his use of proper nouns and then seduced them all with his 3D, three standard deviations from the mean, attention to detail. Written while making toast and coffee and waiting for, this is your mind, 2 eggs to fry. And after his first sip of coffee he blessed himself. He was thankful. All this and heaven too and he loved it. Obiter dictum - For frêsh literary content Fuck Art, Let's Dance is the definitive blog. The Halifax Trine are facile princeps. (It helps to "some dance to remember, some dance to forget" that c's are pronounced as k's in Latin.) © 2005 big box industries Monday, March 14, 2005
Posted
9:20 AM
by robert d
She could whistle. She could jump high. And she was adept at going round and round in circles. First she would go - tick, tock - clockwise - and then - tock, tick - windershin. She always executed the - tick, tock - clockwise maneuver flawlessly, but on occasion her windershins were cause for concern. © 2005 big box industries Friday, March 11, 2005
I don’t remember everything about yesterday evening, but I do recollect having a fire, and making spaghetti, and opening a bottle of wine, and dancing in the kitchen…I must have had a pretty good time though because it was all waiting there for me this morning when I got up – the mess. It’s rather ironic that a mess is indicative of having a good time. I do also remember breaking one of my favorite wine glasses during the festivities. I don’t remember the exact instant that I lost control, me being a master of time and space and all, but one instant I was reaching up in the cabinet over the stove and the next moment one of my favorite wine goblets with the blue swirls was in a gazillion pieces on the white tiled kitchen floor. Shit happens. © 2005 big box industries Wednesday, March 09, 2005
I found this snap on the internet. I found this snap very sad. How wondrous the flow of life. How still the forever after. And in the wake of the corpus all those that linger. © 2005 big box industries Tuesday, March 08, 2005
A strong wing has been blowing in from the North all morning, but rain or shine, sleet or snow, these golden finches go for the bag. It must be a rush for Howard & Trudy as they hang on for dear life and go for the good stuff, go for the thistle. © 2005 big box industries And as he meditated the world around him started to spin much slower and the dint of life hushed down into a soothing hum. Stiff and still but aware. © 2005 big box industries Monday, March 07, 2005
And when they mingled the skies turned the color of blood and hot passion, red. Together they were more than two, together they were everything. © 2005 big box industries Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Cold blankets on a cold, cold, night Much burr with the howlings of the wind And the”tintinabulations that so musically wells From the bells, bells, bells, bells Bells, bells, bells – From the jingling and the tinkling of the” – Actually it is not bells but the chimes I have hanging off the gutter on my back roof near my bedroom window. They have been incessant in their sway, but not with the cling clang dint of metal on metal, but with the melodious tones of a savaged Shangri-La. Just last week in North Georgia we had several days where the temperature flirted with the low 70’s, but now the bitch is back. © 2005 big box industries
|