posted on February 12, 2010 at 4:47 am

another day
4 p.m. circa february early 2010
dive down thru layers of personalities
another day
another storm
another time being
another point in the distance
on an afternoon when all stories merge
on an afternoon when all probabilities surge
on an afternoon before the urgent wind came
on an afternoon after no one
on a hundred degree day straight out of the futures
or straight out of the arabian nightclubs
the sky glowers
the skin cowers
embalmed in hours
thunder threatens to the north
weird little tree cover in milky pink flowers
towels hang agitating against the new storm
for god sake thunderer bring on the dark clouds
wash this fair city clean of all its sin
though that might take awhile
thunderclaps roll out towards the heads
the ants panic in long jittery columns
on an afternoon like this
just as you would imagine me
on the balcony surrounded by my little gang of shrubs
i jazz up the afternoon with my puffing, billy
some new thoughts enter my skull
some old ones fade away
old memories not what they were
new memories folded up
to be looked at on another afternoon
this afternoon which is almost over in its own midst
i invoke indra god of weather to pour down upon my city
and flash flood away the things that keep us bound
a fresh wind flies out of the mouth of the heat
like the cool tongue of a lover in virtual re-creation
the clouds are thick and woolly
and they hover ponderously on the sky
dogs bark far away
howling against the coming storm as if it could stop it
like men rage against their oncoming fate
which does not listen
youth does not need heed me
folly cannot comprehend the sublime nature of things
the ground still burns my feat
yes i say yes
there is always more than 2 choices
but thats all they give ya n thats all they got
the time being gives you multiple choices
its however you wanted it to be because thats it
the storm seems to lose velocity
it seems to lose its intent
its terrible sitting here
waiting for that cleansing rain which may never come
a man of simple taste n origin
i eat almonds and sip tepid rice milk
i need to vibrate faster
i need to feel lighter
i need to be able to fly in to the sun
but the barometric pressures me to the floor
i eat some deeply purpled cherries
spit out their stones
maybe a cherry tree will grow in one of my empty pots
i remember other days and afternoons of course
the swirling currents of luck
the rise n fall n rise n fall
rags to ditches
ashes to ashes
hags n witches
look where the stitch is
the sun is so strong
i go down to hades to find some shade
the dead call out my names
hold out their fading hands to me
i see them all
rank upon rank
file upon mile
row on row on row
in the hall of the black mountain king
he says if you want those shades back sing!
and sing of the storm and its coming
i crave something salty
i crave something sweet
the heat has unravelled my plans
i must give in
i will sit in some cool spot and unconcentrate
unconcentrate on nothing

12 Responses to “afternoon of a fawn”

  1. avatar
    Saint Louie | 12 February 2010 at 6:00 am #

    Beautiful Stevemeister…anyone ever call you Stevemeister?…well I'm sure, but if not, I just did and it's a good thing, mate!

    May all the sources of nature bless your being, your songs, life, and your wife n daughters too! You deserve it my man! May the gods or God bless you and may many refreshing RAINs venture on your parade's doorstep(s)…be well, merry, full, and nurtured to progress with quenching that thirst throughout the never endless summer of the time being called yur blog.

    Nevertheless, we have the winters here and every leaf that is dead has it's other side…may that leaf grow the seed of life with you and yours truly, family, friends, songs, + sum!

    Cheers & Prost, Salute to thee Other Side

  2. avatar
    Knot | 12 February 2010 at 6:12 am #

    and time equals equals divine,and human equals race.and fawn equals flaw.:(x

  3. avatar
    Saint Louie | 12 February 2010 at 6:14 am #

    SK describes the sensual experiences of a faun who has just woken up from afternoon sleep and discusses encounters with several fans during the morning in a dreamlike monologue.

    Heck…who can't relate to that!!??

    P.S. Apologies for using your blog as an outlet, does anyone do that? You of course…lol. Sincere apologies…you can publish this or trash it, your choice!

  4. avatar
    Hellbound Heart | 12 February 2010 at 6:15 am #

    oh man oh man the poetry of these last few days has washed over me like a balm…..
    the heat finally got to you as well? i am well and truly over summer….
    i wish my other half would stop fucking around with the internet because i haven't been able to get onto it for the past few days….
    love always……

  5. avatar
    Thomas Thomsen, Denmark | 12 February 2010 at 9:53 am #

    Painkiller is literally out of this world.

    If the otherworldly space rock of Outbound is the launch pad, the luminous and ethereal Celestial is a dreamy, blissful travel through outer space; like looking out of the windows of a spaceship, at stars and distant planets.

    I need my box set, and I need it NOW!!!

  6. avatar
    Anonymous | 12 February 2010 at 1:15 pm #

    Oh your storm , turning
    Worms into butterflies
    Mud into butter
    Flies into skies
    Luck into risk
    Musk into mist
    Mystery into song
    And if I sing along
    What else will play
    Along the way ?
    I will run to stumble
    I will match to crumble
    I will touch to fumble
    Then I will become
    In your storm , not a tear
    Revealing replacing fear
    The night of my dear
    Not in a year, maybe a lifetime
    To find out what is mine
    To get what is yours
    To forget what is ours
    Nothing less, nothing more
    After the rainbow of trials
    There is a storm of treasures
    Where I sleep
    Not a wink to get dry
    Crying to get high
    It is just the calm after the storm
    Like the love held in your palm
    This is not a day
    In the heat of clay
    While my head drifts
    To cool your sins
    Oh our storm , sings.

  7. avatar
    Freddie | 12 February 2010 at 1:27 pm #’ve got such a way about describing things…very nice!

  8. avatar
    Anonymous | 12 February 2010 at 2:55 pm #

    linjo 7:29…I don't know Steve's wife but I think mentioning her in the same paragraph as Courtney Love just doesn't seem right. Courtney is an abomination. Poseur extraordinaire. The worst kind of superficial pseudo-rock 'n roll bullshitter…

  9. avatar
    bc | 12 February 2010 at 3:09 pm #

    transcendental meditation, defined…

    "unconcentrate on nothing"

  10. avatar
    m.p.k | 12 February 2010 at 8:04 pm #


  11. avatar
    knot | 12 February 2010 at 8:06 pm #

    listening to 9 crimes

  12. avatar
    Anonymous | 12 February 2010 at 9:46 pm #

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