posted on December 13, 2016 at 9:39 pm
same old same old

same old same old

black cats in the night dont see me

this invisibility keeps me liquid

quaking emperor your scene is over

the warmest days of october

the thousands i saw in the mirror

i shalala down the street of streets on a festive night

the doors are flung open and interiors emit a greenish light

the songs are sung again and young again alright

the chains my brilliant brain stupidly forged from pain

the ropes were hopes billowed on bluest skies a reprisal

oh vibrating night quite inevitable really you should come around

the ground rush up to greet thee as you meet me with your sound

in earlier lives in outrageous close i had my little dance upon the toes

one lent morning i was bent bourn and horned upon yonder lawn

the swagger equivalent to the dagger i stagger to wield in the war fields

under the stern thrum of the drums we marched parched by a mirage

my companions and i plied with powder and keg we beg for more from the floor

embracing your 3 faces with a taste of some unguent gum some imposter bossed me around

i enliven my strings the very things upon which

i siren my shots and my slings abound

a tremulous caramel kiss is it

for me to visit an artificial bliss not much different from this

words rushing me crushing me crashing me into my own walls

it takes balls to admit the water in your throat

soon you will no doubt be floating on air

my desolate trespass upon magical realm at the helm of my disaster

faster and faster we spun the funny void of andromeda one

i’m down the back in the black inky seaside shack

by the glorious ocean where the merman bathe bravely on the reef

toothless fish in the lagoon soon a fine raining mist persisting and sprinkles

i am then among the winkles in the shrinking light

in the bright moon ray or hidden from sight

i bend to the pool whirling and churning and turning with life

i send out my thoughts the things our sweet victories have taught us

i caught us a beam whose silver will seem to solve everything

and dissolve you to white





posted on December 11, 2016 at 8:44 pm


voice in another room:  he’s not written much lately

voice in yet another room: ‘s got writers block

some other voice: he hasn’t done nothing at all for ages

female voice: just sings a bit thats all

i walk the down the long way home

theyre coming back from the beach all sunburned

a sultriness in the sky

voice in another room: he’s lost his way

voice we havent heard before: he’s lost his fuckin’ mojo

an official voice: gone off the rails..!

a sad voice: he makes me sad

i can see the sea at the end of the street

its flat and silver under the grey sky

the flats for lease

and the chucked out bits of furniture

the skeletons of long gone bikes

a bloke pushing a pram and smoking a cig

the temperature is humidly perfect

the guitar shop with its pink fender bass i will never own

the bottle shop with the air conditioner unit that sounds like womens choir

my english skin is tanned and freckled

my beard is white my nose is pink my shirt is black

my eyes are blue my chest is brown

my dreams are inexplicable

my memories are fading

my choices are made for me by some dice or fate

my jaw aches

my leg aches

my teeth ache

my ears ring

my heart misses beats

my blurry fucked up eyesight 

my world is receding 

my beautiful dutiful daughters within their own lives

my friends shaking their heads reading this

my incredible run of luck

my stupid immaturity

my naive surprise when i get burned

my finger hurts still from when it was shut in the gate

my breathing is very shallow and my pulse beats slow

my rages and my sulks but also my generosity and my hopefulness 

voice in another room: if thats all hes got he neednt have bothered

a mocking voice: that aint poetry..!

a dry voice: dont you see, its a new simplistic authenticity

voice in another room: authenticity..? youre joshing me…

reader who lives up the junction: at least its

a mocking voice: and so it fuckin’ should be

a sad voice: i’m still sad



posted on November 7, 2016 at 9:44 pm
shot silk

shot silk

on rare day off

i have a early swim with george where the water is effervescent

its good to be alive

we have breakfast and then i pretty much do nothing

till some professor arrives to interview me for 2 hours

re my “bohemianism”

i am apparently a modern version of the australian bohemian

altho being english doesnt seem to matter really

a bohemian made slightly good and flirting with the mainstream

according to herr professor

it was a great interview and i had a good laugh at myself and my pretensions

oh ha ha ha

yes that was good

am i a bohemian or just a lazy old git …its a fine line

well im leaving on an aeroplane again tomorrow


done enough flying for while but no back in seat 15 fucking g i go

i’ll have aisle please

dont wanna sit next to any fatties babies smellies or grotty little swine

yes i’ll have a glass of fucking water

and the vegetarian option

but lo a horrible fellow next to me is tucking into the pulled off pork

well you become what you eat and he is already undergoing the transformation…

ive seen all the fucking movies and i am the reigning world virgin champ at rock trivia

theyve got starfish in the record selection

hoping no one sees me listening to my own record

after about one minute i drift off and dont listen to any of it

baby it goes in one ear and out the other

one of the hosties is quite attractive in her uniform

and like your humble scribe is no spring chicken

oh i get my gin and tonic for free and she gives me a smile

this is on the house mr kilbey

well alright thats better i guess

boy the gin and tonic slides down fast

and i get up for a wee wee squeezing past the hostie who smiles again

in side the toilet there  am in the mirror frowning at myself

at that moment the plane hits the turbulence and i find it impossible to have a wee

as if someone was waiting for that to happen

we are one hour into the flight and im restless as all harry

i take out my lappy and listen to whatever i can find on there

life continues to be strange

something i thought i’d lost returns to me in negative only better

a new version of an old idea

then theres bowie in perth

and hanging out with Adalita is there anyone sweeter?

tim rogers too he’s a funny sod

the camaraderie of the troupe

the violins and the bassoons

singing those marvellous perfect songs

bowie told me in a dream i have his blessing

anyway i do my best

a cog in the mechanism

saturday night will be gig i have accepted a private do

someone especially requested me

i hope they like my performance

oh itll be ok probably a real pleasure you never know

how these things may go

then im having a bit of rest

not too much on a sporadic gig here and there




posted on November 3, 2016 at 7:27 pm
fleurs du mal

fleurs du mal

the elusiveness of pleasure

you chase it till you overshoot it

eventually nothing will do the trick

not even your little precious’s

predictable inevitable and futile

i cannot look on any longer

i’m over it

youre free

in free fall




posted on October 27, 2016 at 10:04 pm
one eyed cat 13

one eyed cat 13

the despairing worm which writhes under golden light

between the withered blade and the tombstone thistles where i lay me down

the inky night of a dark star to guide me

the shape of a pale rider beside me

the stupid hope you’ll be home soon here inside me

i grope towards the dangling truth but its so flexible

imperceptibly bent

i believe i will leave

when i leave then surely i will believe

i believe i can leave and leave it all behind

diamond lined mind of many faces

replaces a dwarf for slim chance

i dance in the margins

where the ichor oozes and hardens

in gardens of the blind surely you wander now

fonder however as you are of ham rather than what i am

yonder is bonding my wand to the distance

in this instance

at least

and all my insistence

i need no assistance




posted on October 24, 2016 at 8:41 pm
the futurarctica

the futurarctica

if youre reading this then i must be sorry

if you happen to cast a glance upon these words

you know me and you know me well

and the new you knew me once too

back before the glaciers slid into your lives

before the mammoth sailed across your plains

before the wind starred in your garden of unearthly delights

before that strange sweet thing which eats you all alive had manifested last winter

and even before when i wandered

and even before that when all is one

then then then

just then

just then





posted on October 24, 2016 at 7:48 am
same old shot

same old shot

at last me and kathy came to the edge of the great forest where we had wandered lost for years

and lo there were two paths that stretched off on either side

which one would dad have taken..? wondered kathy aloud

and then

you got to choose..! she said to me almost angry as i stood there hesitating

as i stood there gazing from my left to my right

at the 2 paths that led off into the haze of some fine distance

well..? demands some other voice in another room

the audience all tune in to see what me and kathy will do

as we stand there at a standstill

as i dither and fumble and time rushes by

as the birds fly in low and make mechanical noises

as a fox stops to gaze at us

as a reindeer grazes on the verdant lawn

come on steven she says to me and reaches for my hand

pulling me towards her and the left hand path

no i say weakly but she is too strong

the fox shakes its head

the birds caw and screech

the reindeer regards us with its sad dark eyes

we walk down that path and a cold fog of night comes down

we walk that path losing each other in its darknesses

i walk along on my own thru the dreary and sad night

Kathy..?  i call but there is no one there to hear my voice muffled as it is in fog

Kathy..? i think but there is no one anywhere who can hear my thoughts

and so i walk on and on for one thousand years

faltering step on faltering step

marking out a circle in which i meander life upon life upon life

until i am small and nothing left of me

except the last Kathy..?

which is uttered and then hanging in the silence

a tiny little sound

like the memory of a bell faraway in childhood.





posted on October 21, 2016 at 10:27 pm
big shot

big shot

yeah look at me kids

im a singer in shiny pants and a big ole mike

suddenly the moment is over

i cant really sing very well but the people clap anyway

thats politeness for you

i am across the social media like margarine spread on a cracker

i must seem to be everywhere but i’m in my rented room in coogee on my own

i impatiently wait for sleep to arrive altho its not even 10 oclock

i dont feel sorry for myself because all the bad stuff was my own doing

my own undoing i should say

i had it all and i lost it all and then i had more and i lost more

when its gone its gone and its gone

the music biz conspires not to pay me what should be coming to me but i hardly care anymore

large sums of money are mentioned but it trickles down slow and arduous

theres always an excuse

my tongue isnt forked its a cat o nine tails

my eyes glazed over i follow only the action i’m interested in

i cant hear whatever you say i dont feel whatever it is

the happiness drops are yet to hit my system

i am expected to believe stupendous fairytails and i sit there barely protesting

i go have a massage i go have acupuncture

as quick as they put it back together it falls apart again

i did and said every wrong thing as i always do

inexplicable things occur

anxiety pursues me

taking up possession in my mind and the voices all pipe up

nowhere seems a good place to be

wherever i am i am in the way

people push around me to get to wherever it is they are going

i derail all the trains that holding precious cargo runaway into evening

i am an anomaly a king without a thing

except an axe to grind

and some blues to sing

life is so bizarre and random

i mean there is a god but i have drifted away into shadow

shadow of nescience

of untruth

i struggle with the darkness sent to get me

why does it want me…?

i couldnt even say

my brilliant mind all amped up the synapses fire non stop

i am not allowed to say i am speechless

the mirror looks tired and gaunt slightly haunted

the horizon stretches out across the barren page where i have written nothing

the rain comes in through the heat where its stifling and dark

my ribcage holds a photocopy of a heart

i was in the moment but the moment is gone

i start to feel sleepy that is at least a good thing

tomorrow i jump on a bus for another gig

some country town i hear i never been before

i will arrive decorated in my shambles

my fiascos will be nicely on display

still the mouth open there comes that voice i mean its ok

blah blah blah the singers sing

what the fuck does that all mean why a big delightful nothing

the drums boom boom crash whack thud

the lights turn blood red

the characters in my life are all in my song

in my one song i sing out man i was strung out in a dream

running around trying to call somebody

i was unaware that i lay in a bed and was dreaming

in the next room i hear myself arguing with someone

my voice getting louder and angrier

my voice and the other voice over the top of each other

no one is listening but me now sitting here typing this up

round and round the argument goes ending back at the start before launching forth again

tears and sneers and cheerless jeering

i cant hear much anyway my ears ring so bad now

i cant even hear myself going on from weeks ago

the window rattles in its pane

some guys are having a drink and a laugh next door

i am detached now

my mind begins to switch off

sundays are the worst day

its friday night

in someones head i will paint the town red

my dreams will be more of the same

some struggle i can never name

wow its 10 22 now thats really past my bedtime

seeing tomorrow i will sing somewhere else

and someone else will hear the song

dont wait up

and i will be right along







posted on October 11, 2016 at 9:18 pm
in silent prayer

in silent prayer

when we are not we

the sky ripped open

sound of great wings is audible

in silent prayer the air around me thickens

the blood in my mind quickening so slowly

my moon dissolve in the puddle

when you are not you are not you

you alone without all the other stuff

no props no filters no lens no more shocks

i am not i am not i am not myself

me alone as the droned tones of our song linger

no longer a singer now im just another croaker

and everyone will be glad when its over

yes everyone will be glad for the bother

i am not you and never should have been

i should have listened i should have seen

i should have read between all the lines

i should have never vented all my furious spleen

all the clowns and little pigs

why do they appeareth so big..?





posted on September 25, 2016 at 8:13 pm
cloakful of eagles

cloakful of eagles

harridan of mercindols

i sing for my supper and i sometimes must starve

i am everything i never wanted to be

i merge with the rain

in sunlight all my years on my face

the people i meet with all shaking my hands

in sleep i am in torment

in alertness i am falling asleep

longing for moments in the past to return

null future void on

the songs i sang

all rang on in my ears