posted on March 31, 2013 at 7:14 pm
side shot

side shot

 

after the show is over

everybody has their wine

easter rain is falling out there

where i am safe in my little room at the resort

not far from the ocean

the most easterly easter on the island

someone sees me and says something

i heard you were good

thats a lie i say ha ha

i feel so sleepy in my little room

very unmagical

struggling to keep it together to remain awake

even tho its only 8 pm

theres a whole byron bay out there

wheeling dealing falling over

flesh against flesh

drug on drug

i am alone in my cell

i listen to rain  i listen to weird sounds

i listen to phones ringing on in wild silence

and the advent of darkness

and women singing in some garage

and tyres screeching on another free way

i am safe i am secure

let that world outside drink and consume flesh

it has no bearing on me

i am safe and warm and dry and un noticed

my familiar face in deep shadow

my fingers tap this out incessantly

the words fall into my brain

i munch on a packet of hotel crisps

my room is still and neutral

i am satisfied

i want for nothing i am unseen here

all over the world things happen

but not in here

the show is over

i did my bit

singing dancing singing dancing

showbiz kid…..hang on grimmly

the crowd surges

backstage is dark and warm

different people cameramen and stuff

wranglers anglers and fucking fandanglers

people shake yer hand and walk by

some rich old promoter waddling along

some black svelte woman

someones child

a runner with a coffee for joe blow

its a festival

then youre on

wow!

then suddenly its all over

and you forgot what it was like

so you back in the room

where its still and its warm

listen to rain falling falling

falling down

 

9 Responses to “easter 2”

  1. avatar
    Anonymous | 31 March 2013 at 10:49 pm #

    outside..inside..existing only because of the other. a ritual passage. return to the womb/room

  2. avatar
    Steven Krut | 1 April 2013 at 5:52 am #

    That’s a really good portrait. Painting and writing aren’t that different in some ways.

  3. avatar
    Kohl Ette | 1 April 2013 at 7:10 am #

    Here’s to you:
    Dear Poet
    I would wish you comfort
    I would wish you company
    I would wish you warmth
    laughter happiness ever after
    but nothing I can say
    can change
    nothing I can do
    will influence you
    or improve
    you must just be free
    to be
    without ones such as me
    you see
    yes you do
    I know you do
    and always did
    so all I can do is give you back your latitude
    and simply bid you?
    Gratitude!

  4. avatar
    hippy | 1 April 2013 at 10:27 am #

    Nice melancholy blog, love it. These KK songs are sublime. The one from the previous blog I played about ten times in a row. Amazing production on this record!

  5. avatar
    seoigh | 1 April 2013 at 11:01 am #

    the only thing i’ve ever written vaguely about resurrection. seemed appropriate:

    in the dream, the sky is dark with birds
    the smell of rain and the taste of rust
    sound the ancient bell to rouse
    our ghostly forms entombed in rust
    to rise and fall and rise again
    heroic feats to complete these hours
    while the hollow shell of a locomotive
    sleeps under a blanket of wildflowers

    is there nothing here but stillness?
    no song painted on the silence?
    fallen leaves obscure the path
    we’ve no almanac to guide us
    but moonlight burns like opals on the river

    the moon reflecting in my cup
    jasmine blooming in my head
    across the frets her fingers dance
    i listen to what sara said:
    “forget yourself,” she sings to me
    “and all you think, own, feel, or do
    for those things that distinguish life
    are also what extinguish you

    “add nothing to the stillness
    and add nothing to the silence,
    emptiness conjures the spell
    and the melody will find us
    for moonlight burns like opals on the river
    and cigarettes are fireflies in the distance

    yet this was my home

    where once a churning river boiled
    with vain attempts at sinlessness
    her music blacked the water still
    and passions fell to windlessness

    for those who will find her opals on the river

  6. nina
    nina | 1 April 2013 at 12:27 pm #

    WOW… its kk magic… you have found that needle in the haystack… bless you both and clint for sharing xx
    shining some happiness your way… cherry blossoms falling with that rain 🙂

  7. avatar
    Cath | 1 April 2013 at 3:59 pm #

    Beautiful ,so did you just play a festival in Byron shire? can’t wait for the usb:)
    Love the clip as much as the song, evocative, hauntingly serene……blessed be, love CMx


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