posted on January 18, 2017 at 11:03 pm
is that me for a moment

is that me for a moment

blasting bastard of a day

sickly hot searing sun

in my mind where i toil everything has been going off

god protect me from all attack decay sustain and release

in my mind where the pictures roll on tho i may no longer choose to speak them

in the mind of madness in the delusional fields where i slave away

in the worlds where i will miss everything

only i will miss you more

if i could orbit and swing back

before corroded memory sleeping seeped into my reveries

an enemy within ah but how to fight it..?

my food is sunburnt

my touch evaporates away

the illumination was not expected

enraptured by my torpor the seconds coalesce solid

anxiety my constant and incessant companion whispers

whispers what though..? asks a voice in another room

it whispers in a tormented language of a hiss and a whistle

it bristles around my ears at a rakish angle

like a halo of sibilance drowning out your words

its dull dazzle blotting out everything in tiny geometric stars

at night i fight on in my dreams where you appear

dressed in my burst fears and maybe yes the straps

perhaps the dread i feel heels me and hemmed in by my skull the thought compounds

the consuming bonfire of looming future stretches out its fingerling flames to burn present

the elapsing collapsing time tick tock tick baby

i know it full well i cant tell if thats the clock in another room

or the rattling charms of a snake eye dice that stares up with black eyes

the yawning void opens up sucking us in to its straw

like vapours we are smoked and then blown away

like nodding off at the wheel of a fastest car

or hurtling through a million geezers or bitches

my ears talk my mouth tastes my tongue hears

futile tears from the hanging man

hung by the hangman in a dangle

those angles and those lines

by the sea the pines only remain from the past

when a cool wind finally arrives

i shiver in my freckle skin inside some man i dont understand

i quiver before your arrows that enter my ventricles nerve

a swerve then i serve myself the desert you left in the kerb

the blurb bubbled forth it ripped ahead off

the murk i shirk has worked away at on me

the dark weave even steven cannot be leavin’ alone

a glance at my phone

and i wonder why you never comin’ home..?

 

 

10 Responses to “a voice in another room”

  1. Jmb066
    Jmb066 | 19 January 2017 at 12:05 am #

    The Time Being has returned, your presence has been missed. Hope we hear from you again soon.

    Take care,

    Jason

  2. avatar
    andy | 19 January 2017 at 7:08 am #

    thick fudge………..
    everyone feels it sometime.
    torpidity is an evil no-one can totally eradicate.
    but…hey, you’re the time being, the next brainstorm/barnstorm will soon
    occur.
    just how it is/who you are.
    god is real…and he ain’t done with you yet.
    welcome back!

    • avatar
      matthew | 26 January 2017 at 12:32 am #

      Thanks Andy. Truth my friend.

  3. avatar
    GrahamT | 20 January 2017 at 7:57 am #

    Steven Kilbey… you were talked about today in Montpellier, France. During a work lunch with my colleagues. I have a long distance train to catch tomorrow and will be listening to your music, as I just did (AENT) a couple of hours ago after a long day at work. You were talked about with fondness here in the south of France today. You are talked about with fondness in little pockets all over the world. Thousands (for it is so) of people with whom your creativity and charisma resonate. People who hear your music that reminds them of moments… and moments that remind them of your music. You are a young man Sir. As the late Mark Linkous sang poignantly, ‘it’s a sad and beautiful world’. But it is beautiful. That beauty will continue to find you, unveiling itself unexpectedly over the decades ahead. I write these words carefully. You will read them and naturally feel only a momentary flicker of appreciation, disconnected from this unknown soul on the other side of the world. However we are many in caring. Many.

  4. avatar
    matthew | 20 January 2017 at 11:23 am #

    thanks for returning skilbey. I get what you mean, and more getting shall become begotten as it all like, sinketh in. Cheers man.

  5. avatar
    Cocoamo | 21 January 2017 at 12:23 am #

    Such a relief to see you here again
    alliterating, pontificating puns
    Sparks of genius
    Futile tears of a hanging man?
    Not sounding happy, I fear, but at least here
    Was worrying about you
    Hope you are okay

    Having been somewhat depressed myself
    with the US #$@&* election and all and wondering what it will mean for the world
    When you are okay, I somehow feel reassured
    Everything will be okay

    Kinda heavy to lay on you
    sorry

    Your Friend in Pennsylvania
    (Now in Cocoa Beach)

  6. avatar
    Chris | 22 January 2017 at 12:44 pm #

    Sometimes a poem is more real than the current reality…and preferable. This is one such sk…

  7. kevinbreton
    kevinbreton | 23 January 2017 at 2:47 pm #

    A man knows that just as a tea cup is hot and then cold so does a seagull fly as a saucer. It’s impossible to rule out that the square root of 2 can be whatever a child might want to imagine it. Anyone knows the sky is a cathedral who’s doors shan’t be opened

  8. kevinbreton
    kevinbreton | 23 January 2017 at 3:39 pm #

    Hey Mr K. Been listening a lot to “like a ghost” both by you and by ignatius jones. I like the Escher synthpop version. It aired on vh1 classic oh probably 15 years ago before I knew you wrote it. What an awesome number I mean just captures a visage only songs can do.


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