posted on March 30, 2007 at 10:12 pm

this is the future, ok?
too late to say no anyhow
choice is illusory
your course is fixed
(handsignal)
set to go
gonna get some where
far away and watch you explode
gonna plot your arc in the night sky
watch your sparks fall to earth
racing on n on
towards the receding dawn
(initiate)
when you falling n shaking
coming down around my ears
when the mirror crashes into itself
and everything from the otherside set free
when the whirlpool and tornado combine
when the fire that burns underwater turns green
and the great dragon who stole your heart
scorches me with its breath
falling asleep you relinquish the wheel
waking into your otherlife
walking out of a hangar in the english summertime
hey dad is that a spitty or a hurricane?
its a spitfire son and he shot down a load of enemies….
just look at all those symbols on his fuselage!
in a wood nearby lives an english wizard
people call him the being
attended by five daughters
living next to a crystal stream
as his iniation
the wizard was submerged in ice cold water
just his nostrils out
and weighted down
with a huge rock upon his chest
and shut into darkness
but given a subject
for a suite of songs
in the morning the druid
steps out of the abyss
and picks up his axe
and lays down 200 new songs
when he was 25
the wizard had been captured by the “straights”
and paraded thru the big end of town
captive and bound
the “straight” emperor
asks for a private interview with the wizard
we can imagine this scene
as it was n will be again
thousands of years thence n hence
emperor: they say you know magic!
wizard: they say you know nothing
emperor: lets see what you can do
wizard: make a fist
emperor clenches his hand
wizard just smiles
emperor: wheres the magic in this…….
wizard smiling curiously
and staring into emperors eyes
emperor begins to struggle a little
his hand refuses to unclench itself
as he tries harder n harder
his own fingernails begin to bite into the palm
and the wizard smiles
and smiles
and holds his gaze
enough cries the emperor
his face sweating n strained
the wizard looks away
the hand is unclenched
the emperor sobs with relief
take him away and release him, he orders
but its too late
hes seen into the beings mind
now the empire might start to crumble
dad we should go in there with spitfires….
easy slim, theyll have to train the pilots first
dad imagine their surprise
when the english turn up with our spitties!
see how they like that…
the english are always the good guys
arent they dad?
of course they are
its our side innit?
dont be silly son
anyway
aint this the future now?
and we’re living on the edge of time
dropping out of the race
one by one
as we go
into the good night
heatseeker
in a cold tomb

25 Responses to “heatseeker”

  1. avatar
    Anonymous | 30 March 2007 at 11:33 pm #

    Seeing the future through your eyes is always a blast sk!

    Have a beautiful day in sunny Bondi.
    Love always,
    Amanda
    P.S. Any more photos coming our way???

  2. avatar
    matthew | 30 March 2007 at 11:37 pm #

    amazing!

  3. avatar
    Symon | 31 March 2007 at 12:08 am #

    if this doesn’t make your heart ache regarding the futilty of conflict…i will pray for your soul…

    “We have no regrets for him. He was happy at school, at Cranwell and with his squadron, on service. He loved every minute he was flying. He was devoted to his home and to his father and mother and loved by all who knew him.

    He never gave us a moments anxiety except for his safety that that was inseparable from the career he had chosen. I have never known a finer character. If he had been spared he would have achieved eminence in his profession of that I am certain.

    Early he has been killed and gladly he has made the supreme sacrifice, but we are left to miss him very, very sorely.”

    Dr Benson (1940) in a letter regarding the loss of his only son in the defence of Britain.

    Our world has learnt nothing from the tragedy of the past. Hopefully our children will be spared such grief and heartache.

  4. avatar
    ~ | 31 March 2007 at 12:48 am #

    I got exact change
    baby
    for the bus fare
    to the determined destination
    sent the money
    honey
    to admin@karmichit
    been dying to join you
    there
    Again

    A wise wizard says
    use explosive graffiti
    tag the walls of the empire
    rattlecan your initials
    on the long lonely trains
    parked in dark freight yards

    Fireworks have been painted
    in colours I’ve never seen
    behind my eyes
    on the aurora canvas
    in the place I drive to while asleep
    sonambulist memory
    500 lifetimes
    sailing the wild seas
    male in the feminine deep
    and how many times
    she’s swallowed me whole
    and after the bodys pain subsides
    lungs collapse
    then comes the inevitable
    drift into transition
    drowning
    sweetest surrender
    into the Light

    ~

  5. avatar
    Leelinau | 31 March 2007 at 1:09 am #

    ‘tea in the
    ▀Sahara
    with you’

    (Φ_Φ)

  6. avatar
    kat | 31 March 2007 at 1:27 am #

    mind blowingly awesome ;]=~~~

  7. avatar
    ~ | 31 March 2007 at 2:03 am #

    6 weeks too long?
    speed of light can speed
    faster!

    ~

  8. avatar
    ~ | 31 March 2007 at 3:23 am #

    empire burned to the ground
    flying free
    lucky dragon
    time is good to me
    not bound
    to dates
    anytime
    anyhow

    the future is bright
    now
    point me
    at the sky and shoot
    like a star
    meet me
    when where
    soon yes
    I do

    ~

  9. avatar
    Anonymous | 31 March 2007 at 3:55 am #

    the salamander to the weary hearted,sweet,dear,wizard/……love conquers all…..its just the raping and pillaging along the way which gives it a bad name/…….much admiration……..more puzzles please?…..gen xxxxx

  10. avatar
    isolde | 31 March 2007 at 8:29 am #

    tiger moths piss on spitfires

  11. avatar
    fantasticandy | 31 March 2007 at 9:17 am #

    yeah, us brits nailed them sausage noshers real good.
    our spitfires soon sorted out that bunch of fockers!
    luv and peace through superior
    firepwer,
    andy L.

  12. avatar
    Daberhasher | 31 March 2007 at 9:57 am #

    end capsule elation… i slept on that one, good dreamfood…

    and Mimesis… got it yesterday,
    Vinnie Van Gogh day… diving deeper as we speak, what a scape… she’s a looker to my ears, oh yeah… that double bass in the sea of electronics is gorgeous and pure, like white… and no one cay say Kuala Lumpur with as much subtle grace as you…
    really beautiful gift you all conjured up, thanks…….

    aloha,
    ee

  13. avatar
    persephone2u | 31 March 2007 at 10:24 am #

    LIFE is a hospital where every patient is obsessed by the desire of changing beds. One would like to suffer opposite the stove, another is sure he would get well beside the window.

    It always seems to me that I should be happy anywhere but where I am, and this question of moving is one that I am eternally discussing with my soul.

    “Tell me, my soul, poor chilly soul, how would you like to live in Lisbon? It must be warm there and you would be as blissful as a lizard in the sun. It is a city by the sea; they say that it is built of marble, and that its inhabitants have such a horror of the vegetable kingdom that they tear up all the trees. You see it is a country after my own heart; a country entirely made of mineral and light, and with liquid to reflect them.”

    My soul does not reply.

    “Since you are so fond of being motionless and watching the pagentry of movement, would you like to live in the beatific land of Holland? Perhaps you could enjoy yourself in that country which you have so long admired in paintings on museum walls. What do you say to Rotterdam, you who love forests of masts, and ships that are moored on the doorsteps of houses?”

    My soul remains silent.

    “Perhaps you would like Batavia better? There, moreover, we should find the wit of Europe wedded to the beauty of the tropics.”

    Not a word. Can my soul be dead?

    “Have you sunk into so deep a stupor that you are happy only in your unhappiness? If that is the case, let us fly to countries that are counterfeits of Death. I know just the place for us, poor soul. We will pack up our trunks for Torneo. We will go still farther, to the farthest end of the Baltic Sea; still farther from life if possible; we will settle at the Pole. There the sun only obliquely grazes the earth, and the slow alternations of daylight and night abolish variety and increase that other half of nothingness, monotony. There we can take deep baths of darkness, while sometimes for our entertainment, the Aurora Borealis will shoot up its rose-red sheafs like the reflections of the fireworks of hell!”

    At last my soul explodes! “Anywhere! Just so it is out of the world.”

  14. avatar
    Anonymous | 31 March 2007 at 1:21 pm #

    am having ddifficulty with my new BLIND HELPER program…….have tried many times to subscribe to the mailing list……something is not compatible…..could you please email me,……gengenx@optusnet.com …….to sayhowdy and tell me when youll all be in briz vegas again/muchly liking that….gen buckhamxxxxxxx

  15. avatar
    Melquiades | 31 March 2007 at 1:28 pm #

    across the sky
    puncture the stratus
    into the depths
    unveiled

  16. avatar
    Anonymous | 31 March 2007 at 1:30 pm #

    ahhhhhh!!!!typos typos typos…..buckingham/…….xxxxxx

  17. avatar
    davem | 31 March 2007 at 1:53 pm #

    I suspect that was the only time we were ever the good guys.

  18. avatar
    fantasticandy | 31 March 2007 at 2:27 pm #

    memisis arrived yesterday,listened at work,at home,today in car,it’s ok.

    andy L.

  19. avatar
    fantasticandy | 31 March 2007 at 2:35 pm #

    NOT for narcoleptics though!

  20. avatar
    Anonymous | 31 March 2007 at 6:04 pm #

    This upcoming Sunday is our 29th wedding anniversary, and I owe Nanette an immense debt of gratitude for sticking with me, even during my worst days. In case you’re wondering about the date, we intentionally chose to be married on April 1st (April Fool’s Day), as we never thought that our marriage would really last. We took the chance, however, and we’ve somehow managed to find ways to stick together, even through the worst of times. Today, after 29 years together, and 4 wonderful daughters, I cannot imagine life without the joy that being with Nanette brings me each and every day. The gentle whisper of her breathing is the first thing that I hear every morning that I’m home, and that sound is all I need to hear in order to know that I have been blessed by providence with yet another wonderful day. My greatest hope for you is that you, too, can someday feel that same sense of happiness and joy at having your life inextricably linked with a life partner who loves you deeply, in spite of your sins. There is no greater wealth to be found in all the world.

    Chuck Rozanski,
    President – Mile High Comics, Inc.

  21. avatar
    stealthblue | 31 March 2007 at 6:11 pm #

    Maybe you’ve heard this before, but here’s my two bit as well. Wiz, you really should author some sort of fiction/fantasy/sci-fi/adventure type book. I know, you have a LOT going on, but if ever you had some moments in the future to delve into something like that, well…that would just be pretty awesome I’m sure. (I’m not just “taking the piss” either) I really think you could pull it off. (Best seller even ???)

    Anyway, Cheers to you SK and everyone here…
    Peace and Love,
    Ben V.

  22. avatar
    stealthblue | 31 March 2007 at 6:14 pm #

    Hey Chuck,
    Happy Anniversary! I guess you both fooled the odds! Cheers!!

  23. avatar
    knot clever enough | 31 March 2007 at 8:38 pm #

    It is great cleverness to know how to conceal our cleverness.

    François de La Rochefoucauld

  24. avatar
    Daberhasher | 31 March 2007 at 9:14 pm #

    oh the lamentable low weekend numbers, especially after an outing as fine as heatseeker…
    well i PROMISE not to make a habit of this, but here’s another “what i learned” bit, this time with Iggy Pop!!! i found some parallels i thought you may get a kick out of…
    and speaking of co winky dinks, the last time i saw Iggy, he was playing with the Pretenders… these bits are coming out of Esquire magazine by the way, home of the $150 t-shirt………

    What I’ve Learned: Iggy Pop

    Singer 59, Miami

    By Cal Fussman

    2/20/2007, 9:00 AM

    The first moment? Driving down a nice two-lane highway, summer day, Ann Arbor, Michigan. I’m in the backseat of a ’49 Cadillac. Always had a good car, my dad. Frank Sinatra’s singing: “Fairy tales can come true / it can happen to you/if you’re young at heart.” My dad’s singing along. From that moment on, when people asked me what I wanted to be, I would say, “A singer.” As I got older, I realized that might not be realistic. So then I thought, I’ll become a politician.

    The more walking-around money I have, the less I walk around.

    Sex may be a little more factual than love. You know whether it was good or not. You know whether you liked it or not. You’re not going to change your mind about it ten years later.

    Try to find some ground that hasn’t been covered.

    The peanut butter, the shards of glass–I look back upon those moments kind of like a proud parent.

    We lived in a trailer. My parents gave up their bedroom, and I moved in with my drum set. My dad just sat there with his quarter-inch military haircut, reading the newspaper. My parents wanted to light my artistic candle. But over time, the definition of “the arts” began to stretch. And as I got older, they suddenly realized, Oh, my God, we’re the parents of Iggy Pop.

    I became Iggy because I had a sadistic boss at a record store. I’d been in a band called the Iguanas. And when this boss wanted to embarrass and demean me, he’d say, Iggy, get me a coffee, light. And that really pissed me off, because in those days a cool nickname was Tab or Rock. I had a nickname that I couldn’t escape around town and it was torture. Then my band opened for Blood, Sweat & Tears. I think the entire band got fifty dollars total. But we had a lot of new ground. And afterward a huge piece was written about us in The Michigan Daily. In this story, the writer calls me Iggy. I was like, Oh, fuck. We got all this press, but they’re calling me Iggy. What could I do? I knew the value of publicity. So I put a little “Pop” on the end. Took me thirty years to make what I wanted out of the name.

    My mom was a saint. She taught me to be terminally nice.

    You must’ve had a night where you did two grams of nasty blow in New York City and a fifth of Jack Daniel’s and been with not the greatest chick you ever slept with and you got two hours’ sleep and you wake up and it’s the morning rush and you’re hearing honk! honk! honk! out your window and it’s gray and it’s cold and you just want to die. At that moment, yeah, I regretted what I’d done the night before. But big-picture regrets? Nah.

    I’m not a one-trick pony. I’ve had my picture in People magazine vacuuming the floor. I do a little vacuuming, a little bleeding.

    A lot of people tried to out-Iggy Iggy. G. G. Allin. He was just doing every awful thing onstage: having sex, going to the toilet. He took that detail and ran with it. That didn’t put me in a position to compete with him. Just the opposite. It made me embarrassed.

    I was lucky. I’d seen my own vomit and it was green. It was some sort of bile, and it told me this is too serious. Can’t go on. The green vomit gave me a chance to step out and get a little perspective on the world.

    The drugs went away gradually. The outbursts got fewer and farther between. The big turn for me came when my body began to remember all the times it felt bad. Then I became very, very strong. I really don’t want to crawl under the table and shiver and see little mice running under my eyes for the next fourteen hours. I don’t want my confidence for the next twenty-two gigs fucked with.

    Qigong is such a powerful form of energy that some of the masters in China can walk on tissue paper. You know–twelve large men cannot push me. There are guys who can do that shit. I’ve learned enough of the qigong to deal with the musician’s lifestyle.

    Nothing’s shocking anymore. The transfer of information has become so fast, we’re at the point where even the straightest little old lady in Jonesville, South Carolina, is saying, Ah, we’ve heard about that Marilyn Manson and we know what he does at night….

    Almost all cool-ass rock front guys are incredibly huge assholes. It would be nice to meet one who wasn’t.

    I find it hard to focus looking forward. So I look backward. What was I doing when I was thirty-nine? That was the first time I woke up and thought, You’re about to decease unless you get some sort of plan going. I did, and that worked out pretty well. So there’s hope for twenty years from now.

    The best piece of wisdom my father gave me came fairly recently. I was trying to decide on a new woman in my life. He said, “Well, just listen to your medulla oblongata. It’ll tell you what to do.” So I listened to my medulla oblongata, and it said, “Get with that Nigerian-Irish chick. Go with the hottie.”

    I have no idea why a guy would bring a jar of peanut butter to a concert.

    There will always be explosions. But there will always be a vestige left.

    there you go my man, have yourself a fine Sunday!!!

    erik

  25. avatar
    captainmission | 1 April 2007 at 7:27 am #

    What are we going to do now
    The old wizard cried
    I lost my essence
    And the magic’s died
    He drew a sign in the air
    And muttered some words in an angels tongue
    We all looked at the stars above and wondered if it had begun
    But the wizard shook his head
    And the wizard shook his staff
    And the wizard looked so beaten and defeated
    Like he had seen enough

    He said, I cast a spell upon myself
    It’s a dangerous ritual
    Against the laws of all that’s sacred
    And all that’s spiritual
    I clear this space,
    I burn my sage
    I make my intention known
    Invocation to the gods and demons on their thrones
    I ask for Chronos Lord of time
    To reverse the flow
    I have lived to long but I don’t want to go

    You can’t cheat death Chronos laughed,
    All mortal men must fall
    But the magician stood his ground and said
    I bid you hear my call
    Existence is suffering, you yourself can see
    But if you reverse your arrow put an end to misery
    When time unwinds
    All life will begin to heal
    We come back to perfection
    And the nature of the real


Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.