posted on April 2, 2008 at 8:52 pm

the intensity of the undergrowth
in its mauves and purples
running through the sandbanks giggling
me and russell
smoking roaches from the “bag of butts”
my choicest collection of fine pot dog ends
rivers wind to the sea and salt flies in the breeze
i cant get a fix on this
are we olde guys or youngmen
are we kidsagain?
wheres john? russell bursts out laughing
wheres dad?
a seagull in the mournful sky
its early morning
raining ever so slightly
i stifle a shudder
and i shiver
some reason we must be here
time follows its meandering course
mornings boil away
afternoons fade
nights lose their darkness
in this hinterland
a delta
forests threaten in the green distance
in the other direction the sea pounds the shore
remember those kids in lyneham? russell says
the ones with the rundown house and all the pets?
yeah….i say unenthusiastically
what about em?
he begins recounting a tale
there was gengey n bengey n simmo n the abbot twins
there was an air rifle n fireworks
there was bikes and chucking rocks
there was yabbies and someones dad
there was a copper and a broken window
there was catholic kids from st johns
there was those 2 sisters live opposite the school
there was a headmaster and a caning
“lift your hand up boy!”
pain in your arm
down your spine
in your balls
pain travelling all over body
try not to cry russell
try not to cry steven
hours later your hand still glowing
the dogs were chasing us, sir
simmo chucked his ice cream at me, sir
i went home to get changed , sir
my mothers gonna wrote a note for me tomorrow, sir
outside the school the bullies are waiting
punch punch in face
fight back
god it tires you out so fast
run then
kids chasing me all the way home
baying for our blood russell
quickly in the door
the sounds of the other kids fade
mums cooking dinner
johns watching tv
what you boys up to? says mum
nothing mum we said
the tale ends
the overcast sky still looms large
the dunes
the vegetation
the undergrowths lovely colours
is this heaven ? i wonder
i turn around and russell is gone too
only me and some seagulls
eternal day
detached from my loneliness
wandering along alone

31 Responses to “diary of a fifty something renaissance man plus bricklaying tips”

  1. avatar
    davem | 2 April 2008 at 10:00 pm #

    Melancholy stuff…made me think about how much I miss my Mum.
    Love to all.

  2. avatar
    Thomas Thomsen, Denmark | 2 April 2008 at 10:11 pm #

    Today’s blog reminded me of looking at old pictures of my sister and brother and myself from when we were children / teenagers and our parents looked so young. Days long gone. Thank god my mum and dad are still here. Can’t imagine life without them.

  3. avatar
    PAGEY | 2 April 2008 at 10:31 pm #


  4. avatar
    Anonymous | 2 April 2008 at 11:01 pm #

    SK, couldn’t resist sending you this link after the Newtown gig last week …

    Hilarious show, had a ball — and you’re right, for a comedian you do make a good muso. By the way, you owe me a Jager-Red Bull; I’ll claim it off you one day down at Icebergs.

  5. avatar
    matt davison | 2 April 2008 at 11:19 pm #

    Must have been great to have brothers.

    reminds me a bit of stand by me..

    (how can such a wet limp like Rob Reiner have done such a great film)

    oh YESS a cast like that…gotta work

    Toff selling out HURRY UP PEOPLE IF YOU WANNA GO..

    “after match function” Davvydson VS Davison.. Fed Square.

    be there!!

  6. avatar
    Queen Hatshepsut | 2 April 2008 at 11:54 pm #

    Beautiful yet sad. Melancholy indeed.

  7. avatar
    Anonymous | 3 April 2008 at 12:10 am #

    I’ve been living in the past a lot lately, missing my parents, feeling teary, remembering how simple & uncomplicated life once was, longing for days gone by.

    Must be a sign of getting old.

    Ladi Di

  8. avatar
    nickfiction | 3 April 2008 at 12:28 am #

    short but great…..i guess that damn wacky wacky is a real catalyst for you Kilbey…… i quit the damn mess….. but i didnt quit selling it to my unsuspecting friends………

  9. avatar
    princey | 3 April 2008 at 12:37 am #

    Nice memories sk. I hope my son has fond memories of his mummy when he’s fiftysomething.
    Have a lovely day.

    P.S. Matt, where did you get tickets? The usual outlet I get tix from (Corner Hotel boxoffice) isnt selling the sk show this time, and there’s no answer when I called the Toff. Oh no I’m startingto panic now, I was plannign on getting my tix at the door!

  10. avatar
    matt davison | 3 April 2008 at 12:44 am #

    Gizz a call Amanda.. got my number??

    cant put it here or I wll get mobbed!!!


  11. avatar
    matt davison | 3 April 2008 at 12:45 am #


    dON’T WORRY!!

  12. avatar
    Richard | 3 April 2008 at 1:06 am #

    An odd thing I find about my memories of childhood is that the people who were older or bigger than me still seem to me older or bigger.

    I think of the year 6s at my school when I was in year 3 and, even though they can only have been 10 or so and about 4 feet tall, they still seem huge in the mind of a 41 year old six foot adult. And the teachers seem enormous.

    Does that sadistic headmaster still look huge in your mind’s eye?

  13. avatar
    tim | 3 April 2008 at 1:14 am #

    thanks for the bricklaying tips!

  14. avatar
    tim | 3 April 2008 at 1:19 am #

    just kidding…

    i enjoyed the diary too…

    i envy how close you are with your have shared alot of life together…its a special thing that relationship..

  15. avatar
    princey | 3 April 2008 at 3:41 am #

    Ok, thanks Matt, I’ll get the tix on Sunday at the door. See all you Melby people there I hope! Maybe sk will dedicate a song to us faithful fiends like that B.Dylan song…”do you love me, or are you fiendsss just extending good will…do you need my blog as much as you say..blah, blah, blah”
    (sorry sk, my attempt at being funny!)

  16. avatar
    Anonymous | 3 April 2008 at 5:38 am #

    Lovely. Honestly. Such memories. Vivid. Not mine. But still vivid brother. Keep on. 50 ain’t got shit on the shitter.

  17. avatar
    linjo | 3 April 2008 at 6:06 am #

    It is a loss to mourn, the unconditional bonds of childhood, where we never felt alone. So easy then. Seems to get lost in the pathway to adulthood.
    Linda x

  18. avatar
    Anonymous | 3 April 2008 at 6:22 am #

    I wonder if having kids precipitates this stuff coming to the forefront of your consciousness so frequently….? When my small girls regale me with playground tales it does flood back to me…the critical social dynamics, the right sandshoes (had to be Dunlop Volleys then), how enormous a foe seemed when in fact they were a 7 year old blond scrap of a child, the brazen mental or physical cruelty of teachers (anyone who had no children of their own was the worst – read: NUNS!)….and the dull, omnipresent desire to be SOMEWHERE ELSE.

    Those were the days, eh?


  19. avatar
    steve kilbey | 3 April 2008 at 6:33 am #

    we thought theyd never end..

  20. avatar
    Ross B | 3 April 2008 at 7:50 am #

    ..takes me back to Jan ’08, a secluded beach in Tassie, cold, rugged, windy, awesomely beautiful. Leading back to the small carpark was a charming row of pine trees alongside a wire picket fence… It’s just a pity that the “real world” has to impinge on our lives.

    God was there amongst the trees I felt his whisper as a summer breeze (pw-’92)

  21. avatar
    matt davison | 3 April 2008 at 10:35 am #

    Dont worry SK, I dont need to pick you up……………………..

  22. avatar
    Anonymous | 3 April 2008 at 11:03 am #

    funny how I was just thinking the same things Steve, ‘cept insert my family and I don’t have balls to be pained by nuns. Huh, see what abstinance does to the ladies dressed as penguins?! …they’re too mean and I STILL have daymares about them.

    test, test, test. will I actually get a note through this time?


  23. avatar
    Anonymous | 3 April 2008 at 11:25 am #

    ‘Then the busy years went rushing by us
    We lost our starry notions on the way
    If by chance I’d see you in the tavern
    We’d smile at one another and we’d say….’

    ….but then you never lost your starry notions on the way, did you, old panther?

    Carry on, old chap, do carry on.

    Au revoir,


  24. avatar
    lily was here | 3 April 2008 at 11:48 am #

    Hey cloud, is there life on mars?

    I only ever got The Ruler, on the palm of my hand, for talking!…by my favourite teacher, which hurt more than the ruler did. Never said anything to my folks. Wasnt worth the drama. Happened all the time back then. In high school a teacher THREW a ruler at me for talking AND laughing, except he missed and I got into more trouble, for laughing again! Really small potatoes though compared to the boys and the dreaded cane.

    That line ‘nothing mum’.. must’ve given our parents so many sleepless nights! Sometimes I think being the eldest child makes you feel more accountable.


    Toff show tickets.

  25. avatar
    lily was here | 3 April 2008 at 11:53 am #

    oh, and where’s the bricklaying tips?

  26. avatar
    restaurant mark | 3 April 2008 at 12:57 pm #

    i agree with matt davison…does have a stand by me vibe…but rob reiner’s not totally a wet limp…come on…princess bride’s a great movie too! i don’t have brothers or sisters for that matter…so i got chased and picked on by myself. always wondered what having siblings feels like. my oldest friend (tim) and i have been friends for 20 years now…so he’s as close as i got. love him but he’ll get on my nerves quicker than anyone…don’t know if that’s kinda how it feels or not??? i didn’t get the ruler on the hand treatment, but my elementary school principal had this one inch thick, wooden paddle, with strategically placed holes in it…for less wind resistance i can only assume…but needless to say, i went home with red ass from time to time…with white circles mixed in…was it art???

    take care everyone

  27. avatar
    ScaughtFive | 3 April 2008 at 3:21 pm #

    Elementary school. Yep. I got really good at running like hell from the bus stop to my front door. Sorta like a young, suburban wildebeest. You know, it’s still going on ‘cept it’s more conceptualized.

  28. avatar
    Anonymous | 3 April 2008 at 3:46 pm #

    That was bricklaying free of masonry .. ; )

  29. avatar
    Brien Comerford | 3 April 2008 at 6:26 pm #

    Reading today’s blog was reminiscent of a sentimental Kinks song or a Ray or Dave Davies prose piece. Ray yearns. for the Pre-World War Two England that is long gone.

  30. avatar
    persephone2u | 3 April 2008 at 7:50 pm #

    Corporal punishment was long gone by the time I was in Catholic school and all we got was one eccentric and senile nun who told anyone who entered the classroom in the middle of a lesson: “Leave my kingdom, child!” It really made everything worthwhile hearing that every day.

    My mom had masking tape constantly put over her mouth by the nuns to stop her from talking in class, but I had it easy. I was just moved to the other side of the classroom next to the boy who talked the most. Gee, what a tough punishment! I had even more great conversations after the move.

    p.s. Every time I try to post this I get blogspot errors, so hopefully I won’t have about 20 posts when all is said and done…but if so, my apologies. The blog gods have it in for me!

  31. avatar
    haaz | 4 April 2008 at 4:28 am #

    wow, wow wow wow, haven’t looked at this in a while, till tonight ‘course, and saw this…


    obviously i wasn’t there, when and where this happened.

    but you know? i _was_ there. sk, you’ve got a line to my mind… please continue to take us.

    we miss you in milwaukee!


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