Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Where is the King of Ireland? For many it is like having chocolate covered berries but at the same time having an ant bite in your nostril. Flowers pose a problem - they smell. When a flowers gives off a scent it attracts glass rocks. Drum roll. Mountains peer through the sun to see the light on the side of the hill. Forever. The bell strikes and strikes - never to light a match. Tim - he has returned to tell the tale of the chicken. It lives. I love birds.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Where is the King of Ireland? The summation of the words spoken to the rightful toad are equal to 4. Anger. Emotion. Foxes wander through the wilderness, not aimlessly but with a purpose. That purpose is known only to the man who enters the cave of the bear. The bear is not home. The man eats. From here the fox watches the man only to see that he must not be a man but really a pair of mules. Streets made from bricks last as long as the bricks. Fair warning - find the man. He waits. I love birds.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Where is the King of Ireland? Look at the faces. Turn at 10 paces. The mind how it races. The heart how it paces. Blue ink. Finding time in the middle of a second is like finding gorillas in a swamp. The road widens, as it narrows the fellow walking moves away. Click click click. A herd of elephants grazes on sand in the lush fields of golden petunias. Brown salmon eat meat. From there I can see the moon and the sun - I must be standing on a hill. Finally I see the chicken. I love birds.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Where is the King of Ireland. Tim roams the desert. There is no water, no food, no walkman. Tim roams the desert alone. Gorillas watch from the roses. Gorillas trade places with Tim. Coffee mugs rain. The letters. Once there was a man. Assembly. Broken boxes made of chalk create water that lives from the sanctity of human emotion. Where the blood runs to I can't find. I love birds.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Where is the King of Ireland? If you were sucked into the monitor right now where would you go? Would you continue. Contra. Fail. Blank. BBQ. Where are times. Think about this. If time machines could be created, this would mean that every second that passes by, every moment - if definable - would be a present time somewhere. There could be a billion you's walking around in time. If you could go back in time - where / when / why? I would go to 1388 BC - start there and work my way towards the end. I love birds.
Where is the King of Ireland? Simple wishes FAQ's. While I sleep I hear noises - they come from behind my ear. The noises get louder but the ear never moves. Timberrrrrr! The tree has fallen and I do believe it landed on the green. Hole in one. I really enjoy the 3 stooges. Oil frying in oil creates a combined strength of 116. Tim, where has Tim gone. The chicken remains but where is Tim. Oh .. Hi Tim. Were you here all along and I didn't recognize you? Goodbye Tim. I love birds.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Where is the King of Ireland? Farm plants. Walking through fields of grapes, I smell the tears falling from the skeyes. Tear drops the size of ostrich eggs fall into the soil. They crack open and spill out into the soil. Plexiglass. Returning electrical organisms. Drip Drop, Drop Drip. Smoke. Fire and Water make.. Singing now about numbers. Time flows through. Jack chops down trees and as they fall he catches the small squirrel as it jumps. Jack eats. The squirrel. I love birds.
Where is the King of Ireland? I see rain - drip drip drip. I see water - dop drop drop. Drip drop, drop drip. Water passes through. Water flows upward at the slightest. From here I can see the fall. From here I can hear the monster arising from its slumber. Is it he or she? In the distance I see a sinkhole falling from the sky. I see rain - drop drop drop. I see water - dip drip drip. Water passes through. I love birds.
Where is the King of Ireland? The sidewalks heave upward to the sky during Rumplestiltskin. Ears explode. While I look between the lines of yellow and white I see the butterfly. It flies. Doorknobs. Corners of squares are made of circles. Corners of circles don't exist, therefore they see. Tim becomes the chicken and flies 18 miles to the nearest telephone pole. Circling the pole Tim asks, "Why am I flying in squares?" Tim questions whether he is the chicken. I love birds.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Where is the King of Ireland? Contemplating contemplation look out of the windows. Fear arises, compromises, smoke from thus it billows. Sing a new lyric, never again fear it .. see. Smiles. Jumping. Laugh. Love comes from the part that is. Everything else isn't. When I think about where, what, why - I know I don't know. Simple is the mind, singing all the time, bringing simple rhyme. Lime, dime. mime. I love birds.
Where is the King of Ireland? Simply put - I believe there are 3 types of people in this world. Billy walks into the street as a sailor and completely forgets about the blade of grass that was whispering in his ear. As the phone sings, the sun sets in the background. 2 birds look like they fly through the air while really flying through the sky. Flowers. Why can't they see them? What draws the eye to the center of the room - it may be the chair or the bell. I think it is the blade of grass. I love birds.