The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

black cat/white man

is there meaning in suffering

or are we simply suffering

random lifeform on a lucky planet

bizarre microbe evolved into poetry-writing monster

that primal pool of cosmic goo struck by lightnin’

vishnu dreams up planets floating out of his pores fully formed

weird visitors shaping us in their images

children from the future

ghosts before their time

ive got a feeling this is all a joke

ive got a joke this is all a feeling

so i got my feelers out sensing the atmosphere

i am bound to a certain extent by my age my gender my race my belief

time and space and race prevent much understanding

fragments come thru from someone unknown

i want to understand at least myself but i remain impenetrable

i want to change the settings but the panel is inaccessible

i see no way in i see no way out

the manipulation of opposites may contain a clue

but a clue to what……?

how do you manipulate opposites anyway

well you stretch them apart and in the middle is something else

and the mind held half on half off

flickering between the two opposite things or qualities

suddenly temporarily jammed open and in comes X

oh sk you say i can hear you what doth X equal

oh ho ho but i tried to describe X for 31 one years in sound n song

childe there is no simple equation for this thing X

but X feeds something inside your many selves

you your heart your mind your ethereal body your sexual desire

oh my god if i but could freely dispense X they would nail me up

i would be taken away in a big black car for a lonely ride

i would be found miles away insane or appearing and vanishing

everyone wants that X

everyone that had it never says no again

so these other ones try to learn to manipulate opposites to obtain X

but X is illusive and elusive and allusive

hard to sift thru all of the dross to find theres not a trace

no nothing in your test tube or philtre

the more you push

until eventually travelling in an opposite direction

youve become youre own opposite

with all the things that come with that

the humdrum surrounds us choking our senses

the mundane alternating between cozy and stifling

the momentary pull of jesus or opium

the jolt of injury the explosion of orgasm

the hurtling train of the thought in my mind

derailed it goes plowing through the fields of your memories

some call this madness some call it vision

some call it a nuisance and block it all out

the afternoon has turned nasty

the electricity builds up in our cortex and sky

love charged storm ….will it emit X

maybe indirectly maybe as an accident

X will be released in some gland in the cyclonic eye

washing right through us like red dye thru a cloth

crashing down on the buildings and towns

the human race comes alive reborn from the earth

children resembling seraphs

reassembled from spirit and atom of yore

convulsed up at the beginning of time

(i laugh to think it was that long ago)

spat out by creation whatever it was

formed by some god

unknown by a name

“As we now draw closer to the spectacular 30th anniversary concert event for Australia’s prolific and endearing ARIA Hall of Fame inductees, the church, please note that most tickets have sold out with just limited seating now remaining for sale.
Taking place on Sunday April 10th within the concert hall at the Sydney Opera House, this exclusive and one off extravaganza will see the church perform a selection of their greatest songs in a unique ‘best of’ event accompanied by the renown & respected conductor and musical director, George Ellis, together with his incredible orchestra comprising over 60 members.

Proudly presented by IMC in association with Max “A Psychedelic Symphony” is a once in a lifetime opportunity to experience the music of the church as they celebrate their illustrious 30-year career within the auspicious surroundings of the Sydney Opera House Concert Hall on Sunday April 10th, 2011. *Last remaining tickets are available from the Sydney Opera House (phone 02 9250 7777) however please be quick to avoid disappointment.

And for another taste of what’s to come, check out the church performing an massive rendition of the incredible track, ‘Tantalized’ with the George Ellis Orchestra during their recent induction in to the Aria Hall Of Fame! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uFGjiZ9H3Pw “- IMC

TICKETS From SOH Box Office
PH: 02 9250 7777
Online bookings: Box Office Online at www.sydneyoperahouse.com
https://www.sydneyoperahouse.com/tickets/reserve.aspx?performanceNumber=60478

Click on the heading to go to the latest church newsletter. Download here

defenestrated

the night ahead

the day behind

on each side possibilities stack up

in some other universe where i am you

in some other you in some other place

what if what if what if

someone says there are no what ifs oh but there are

i mean

right time right place

wrong dimension

i mean my spirit encaged in this mansuit of flesh

i mean it wanders wherever it wants

you could end up anywhere

you could end up lost

life within emptiness

emptiness within life

forget all the times that you have burned

forget all the times that you have returned

a reality not fixed

nothing is

not even the truth

which has been stretched out of shape

reduced to a fact

bandied about

love is not the whole truth

the whole truth still is not love

they might intersect

anything goes

everything stops

an invisible hand guides me i cannot resist

some things are forbidden

some things are enforced

some things i have leeway

some things i have chains

some things i know nothing

some things i have known

sweet oblivion will embrace me

at the other end some brand new day

oh to start again

somewhere so nice

not like this place

half good and half bad

misfortune and grief nip at your heels

weight of this world pulling you down

words mean so little

they pour out of a mind

like they throw out your stuff

when they left you behind

and life seems so solid

but its jumping from thing to thing

it suddenly leaves you

it suddenly arrives

and you stand up and lie down

a puppet of life

mysterious force no one can see

vanishing appearing

like rain over the sea

thats me

fallen

yet still unfree

This month’s edition of Australian Guitar magazine features a 3 page spread of Peter Koppes and Marty Willson-Piper – Volume 84 with Jimi Hendrix on the cover
https://www.mymagazines.com.au/hzsub/submag?spub_id=166&a=1&c=v
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Australian-Guitar-Magazine/167259276634587

bib and young fan at charity auction

by darryl beamish-froggart

photo by jenny taylor

bib pectin is one hell of a guy

loyal to his fans who shelled out 500 bucks a pop

he appeared last night at the sydney opera house in fine feckle

the opening act veteran oz rock band the crunch struggled against disinterest

the crowd were there to see bib and front man stephen kilbys monotone nasal

only seemed to inculcate a sense of estrangement

the band waded thru their 30 year career as if sleepwalking

the audience were happy when they played their last number n exeunt

for 20 minutes we tingled in anticipation

what would bib wear…?

how would it seem….?

would he look at any of us in the crowd and wink…?

eventually bibs signature the ride of the valkyries is heard

his band walk on

many cheers for gitto fropley on the drums returning after an

operation on his earlobes

fropley signals the intro to

one of bibs greatest songs

peter o’toole is my father

a song about freedom and ownership and disputed paternity

guitarists snog comely and gerard mewcuss hit their stride

trading riffs

their mullets weaving arabesques in the dazzling light show

bass player sammy lin astonishing the crowd with those amusing antics

yeah you know

the waddle the digging-a-ditch the evil naughty boogie

piano player dring mcmaster pounds them 88s

all hell breaks loose

as bib rides on stage on the back of an….emu…?

how fucking aussie is that?

later on it turns out that the “emu” was really roadies bernie and val

but from where i was sitting i swore it was the real deal

bib swaggers around showing off his abs and pecs

a woman near me fainted and was dragged away

down the front mayhem erupts as bib touches some lucky ladies hands

man he is so sincere

he grabs the microphone and out comes that crimpolene voice

that sound of a hundred saos and peanut butter

that sound of 5 thousand sauce bottle bongs

that sound of 50 thousand sherbets at the bungy bar

all the lucky lovely ladies hes kissed

his chiselled features ruggedly lined with experience

(he looked old :ed)

he sung our lives to us

“why dont you use a fucking rake..?” his ode railing against lief blowers

“chlorine puberty” his lament for an innocent poolboy seduced by a nasty cougar

“sherbets ahoy” a joyous ode to beer and drinking

” fuck!” a song exploring a stubbed toe and bibs anguish

“dorothy, give me a bloody break!” about his ex actress dorothy dolphin

here bib uses such authentic lyrics as the heartbreakingly wrenching

” i was only down the pub so whats the fucking problem?”

his song about road rage “it was fucking orange !”

with the whole crowd joining in on

“you stupid bastard howdja ever get a licence…..?”

until the crowd took the refrain taking it to new majestic heights

while bib re-enacted an altercation with a florists truck on old south head road

snog comely is the other driver brandishing his guitar frightening like a weapon

pectin works the crowd like a shaman from the olden days

sipping beer and smoking a cig

the opera house goes nuts for his take on the national anthem

on the line

our land is girt by sea

there is not a dry eye in the whole joint

a map of australia appears complete with dots for capitals

and lines for major rivers

and broken lines indicating the states and territories

bib points out the various members states and each receives a cheer

but local boy fropley gets a thunderous welcome

as bib uses his pointer to point at new south wales

NEW SOUTH FUCKING WALES bib ululates manfully

and the local unbiased crowd responds with swooning adulation and pride

bib yells out AND NEW FUCKING ZEALAND

and there is a slight pause with nervous laughter and confusion

until we all remember that fropleys mother indeed is from auckland

fropley jumps over the kit shaking a tambourine and the crowd go nuts

its a typical bib show

is he even human?

a suburban prophet

the bondi junction wonder boy

sydneys beloved displaced cockney bastard crooner and not a bad golfer

bib takes up a simple acoustic guitar for the haunting “bank error in your favour”

a song about a mistaken stray 300 bucks bib innocently noticed

his agent had forgotten to take his cut

and bib puts down his thoughts to a strident folky tune

“fuck him he’d diddle me so i should diddle him

fuck him

he’d fiddle me so i could fiddle him

commission bullshit

ive worked my balls off all my life

so this prick can buy a mercedes for his wife…?!”

the crowd are clearly moved

its a fantastic set

his version of hey jude is simply spell binding

standing with the scarf between his outstretched hands

he encourages the crowd to sway from side to side during the

na na na hey jude bit

such an incredible feeling of unity

the rest of the night is a blast

i lose track of the treasury of wonders bib unleashes

he returns after five delirious encores and does his classic song

“oh coogee”

a song about a broken surf board mysteriously fixed

and a vision of the virgin in the waves riding a ten foot malibu

” your halo framed by a huge fucking set

like grommet in the sand

or a sherbet from a can”

genius

i rest my case*

read my blog daily froggart@spawn.com

local popular aussie pop singer bib pectin

fuck!

i just lost me fuckin’ blog!

me bib pectin

i cant believe it

i’m so unlucky it makes me bloody sick

i mean my jaguars not getting any younger

and my charisma wont always be as strong as this

jig marlong from toonby-st claire writes

oh bib i love your song about the star filled heavens…!

it helped me over the rejection of my manuscript!

yeah whatever mate good for you…..

mrs norma frost of east kennel writes

oh bib you sexy old fool…!

yes love yes

i understand

its easy to be smitten isnt it?

meanwhile my golf handicap has improved

its a fucking gentlemens game innit?

i love to smash that little ball

the bleeding ‘oi polloi cant understand that

i play with some other top stars

with twice as much money

but half as much talent as yours truly

whinging on about tax havens between putts

get on the piss at the clubhouse maybe meet some divorcees

hi i’m bib pectin

divorcee : why of course you are…..may i call you bib..?

yeah mr pectin sounds ridiculous dunnit?

divorcee : why bib youre so much more handsome in real life

aint it the truth darlin’ i reluctantly sigh

i mean i’m a sexy strong fella but its not just about that

i dont wanna be used for my good looks

i’d feel cheapened

you gotta appreciate my talent

you gotta appreciate my struggle to become an aussie icon

battling the pokies in rsl clubs

sand in my eyes singin’ at lifesaving carnivals

that time i got a nasty shock off the mike

i got a nasty rash downstairs but no one would believe me

some idiot tuned my guitar up wrong

i forgot the words to some song

christ i dunno

its not all dancing on clouds

my agent booked me a cruise gig on some fucking liner or another

i vomited on the audience the first night seasickness

the second night i dozed off on the dramamine

then we stopped at a port and i got lost n didnt get back on the ship

luckily the geeza at the aussie embassy reckoed me or i’d have been chop goreng suey

thats some heavy sitch……right?

fuck all that doom n gloom

i’m going down the bungy bar for a sherbet with me mates

life aint too bad when yer bib

eh?

the author

we vanish into memory

someone throws our clothes away

maybe someone makes a speech

maybe someone writes a column

eventually there will be no trace of us

as if we never were here

and your memory of all this will be erased

if there is a next life here

you will never remember all that passed before

stripped of all gifts and memory then we must go on

only vague predilections remaining like shadows on our souls

the evil and good we have done will shape futures to come

the neglect will see us neglected

the perfect will see us perfected

i’m gonna have to fight all these battles again soon

because i havent gained any ground in this round

the wheel turns but i dont move on

nature is our mother she is also cruel and wicked

each tragedy now is a bastard of a thing

so hard to handle you just switch off

one night soon this world might end in tears

cant you feel it coming down the line?

something quite bizarre and avoidable

but seems like inevitability this far in

in some ways my life is a failure if i dont ever learn

sidetracked by mysterious illusions

vanity lit up fits and tantrums

hurl my spear of words and music

tremble on the perpetual verge of realisation that……

oh i can never remember

i was talking to friend of mine when i realised they were gone

the line was silent

the crystal ball was empty

the screen reflected only the face of some old guy with a beard

nothing is easy and no one is happy

a puzzle within an obstacle course contained inside a bewildering maze

i’m falling for the same old tricks

i’m laughing at the same old jokes

i’m banging my brand new head on the same old wall

i jump out the same old window expecting not to fall

cant face the truth  cant face the lies

some bit of me can only live when the other part dies

i cant see nothing it hurts my eyes

in the ugly mirror where time really flies

we vanish into memory

cant find a beginning

i guess i’ll start here

the white afternoon and its blur

a silence of winds and faint bird sounds

the trees move according to their branches and leaves

scarlet sits here quietly eating apricots and sometimes sighing

with her huge blue eyes she regards the bleak afternoon

eventually she says nice day today dad isnt it?

coloured prayer flags flutter n flap next door at the nepalese place

city enveloped in a cloud

weird crimson moon comes out of nowhere

the girls and friends come home

run round the house stamping and yelling out

giggling squabbling chattering full on

the windows rattle and bang

i have misplaced my superpowers today

some mirrors are kind but not many

white screen sears my eyes as i type

coloured lights hanging red and yellow

black kitten purrs on my chair

the ending remains elusive

so i might as well stop there