posted on March 6, 2012 at 8:41 pm

mans laughter


effigy of your love

orange in the marine night as gossamer burns

watercolour all blurred

the wind is almost worn out

torn through iron balustrades

cut into pieces the spume and spray

a storm blows itself  apart

the lights in the valley glimmer on

they’re watching tv

they’re washing up

they’re sleeping

they’re dreaming weird new combinations

in nightmares of haze and struggle

in visions of naked angels

in thoughts of impossible stuff

i dissipate early

my resolve smeared on black paper

my industry strikes out

my method of operating unravels by itself

well theres the distance

well theres the green and blue hue and sea cry

well theres the suntan which is hideous in negative

cars always arriving and always leaving

i wish i lived everybody’s life

i wish i was speeding into rain

i wish i was lush and plush in a cushy car

minds are lost in the valley

dead spider suspended over the path with her tiny dead pearls

the gate is rusty and it sticks

the kitchenette on the billboard over the road …have i been there..?

in the shop the pop is flat

in the flat above the shop sits pop

my headache takes some time off in the shade

its not talking to me since i hurled it into the sea


but i’m talking to myself

that is to no one in particular

it doesn’t matter

you think it did but it doesnt

you wish it mattered because if it doesn’t matter…then what does…?


which is good and bad

duality is containable within deep minds

my shallow groove is however disrupted

only sleep can erase knowledge like magic

only sleep can wrap you in blackness

only sleep showing you all the different could have beens

and my fond regards….



20 Responses to “husk”

  1. avatar
    princey | 6 March 2012 at 9:06 pm #

    Your dark little studio’s helping you pump out awesome stuff lately sk 🙂
    x Diamanda

  2. avatar
    Richard | 6 March 2012 at 9:16 pm #

    that’s gotta be your second best t-shirt

  3. avatar
    Stewart | 6 March 2012 at 9:35 pm #

    The Dali lama. Beautiful writing and a very cool shirt.

  4. Jmb066
    Jmb066 | 6 March 2012 at 10:05 pm #

    Lovely read today Steve, the song Disappear came into my head as I was reading this. It is strange and yet interesting how many things I do on a daily basis and while I am doing it one of your songs will just start playing in my mind. How many artist can affect someone on so many levels? Just one for me and ironically he is wearing a really cool Dali shirt in this post today.

    Thanks for always being there and in here and out there,


  5. avatar
    Anonymous | 6 March 2012 at 11:15 pm #

    Is Low better than Heroes? I say no.

  6. avatar
    Jesiah6 | 6 March 2012 at 11:33 pm #

    Are you wearing a Salvador Dali shirt? Your music and his art seem like a good match.

  7. avatar
    BROKEN TOYS AND HEROS | 6 March 2012 at 11:55 pm #

    Only sleep is my ultimate mystery…
    Only sleep eludes me as I chase it with hope…
    I am awake , always , and feel nothing
    Sleep is to energize the mind, soul, body and
    And what???
    Iv missed so much sleep in my life…
    I feel awake but maybe, maybe I’m not…
    My health depends on it …
    So the doctors upon doctors say…
    But they’re all still practicing medicine…
    I’ ll sleep soundly when someone
    perfects it.


    • avatar
      BROKEN TOYS AND HEROS | 7 March 2012 at 3:57 am #

      – someday…

  8. avatar
    Boriah | 6 March 2012 at 11:57 pm #

    Dali´s pyjama party !!!

  9. avatar
    Estelle M | 7 March 2012 at 1:56 am #

    Love the Dali’ T-shirt.
    Oh, and the poem is beautiful too.

  10. avatar
    danny | 7 March 2012 at 2:04 am #

    To take the firearm
    Firmly in hands
    There is hesitation
    I’m better than this
    I’m fairly intelligent
    I have been reduced
    To a cromagnian vulture
    I need to clean this city
    I have to purge lost souls
    I have to eradicate cancers
    I have to save swollen hearts
    Limb by limb by fragile limb
    Decisions are being made
    High up in Immaculate towers
    Fabricated parks and psuedo pools
    This is the life I turned my back on
    I’m no Judas
    I’m no broker
    I’m a salesman of rain
    Of pewter skies and swirling winds
    Of high tides
    Of split atoms
    Of converging waves
    Of waters deep with regret
    I sold my soul long ago
    On the Asian market
    It went for more than
    Rhino dust and rare coins
    Lost at the Seven Seas the barrel
    Sleek in construction
    The heft of a 9 millimeter
    The kick of a wildhorse
    The thrill of a whorehouse

  11. avatar
    colette | 7 March 2012 at 4:45 am #

    Thank God yesterday is gone. Now I have to try and get ahead to work on Thursday. I wonder what will happen after that? Some things seem to occur and others do not change in spite of appearance and that is good and bad and that is what it is and is it in my hands? I wonder if I will find out?

  12. avatar
    sybaritewino | 7 March 2012 at 8:32 am #

    one day
    in a time long from now
    the very clothes kilbey once wore
    will be sought after
    they will be as precious as gold n platinum
    as time marches on
    his music
    created in a format long forgotten
    written in words no longer intelligible
    so frantic the masses will be to own a piece
    of the clothes themselves
    they were ripped to shreds
    each piece finding a home somewhere
    in this changed world
    in time as the zeitgest winds down
    special places of worship will be erected
    in these buildings
    each piece of clothing will become a relic
    i dare not say much more than this
    cause we all know what happens when man
    places to much attention on objects
    leaders appear
    committee’s are formed
    ideas are traded internally
    rarely does any good come from the whole stinkin’ mess
    one day
    a young visitor to the temple wonders
    what would kilbey think of all this?
    with a can of spraypaint
    the visitor
    tags the wall with spraypaint
    in large orange letters
    zietgest is sprayed across the entrance
    lost in his own magic
    steve smirks
    yeah fuckin’ smirks


  13. avatar
    danny | 7 March 2012 at 9:14 am #

    Everyman carries a secret
    Deep within their swollen heart
    An affair with the wife of a friend
    The strange Uncle who stutters
    The body between the pines
    Yet in this canyon of guilt
    In this ravine of dark shame
    In this of chasm quiet phone calls
    There is hope like flamingos
    Standing in the shallow shoals
    There are rays after burning rays
    Before the nightsweats and nightmares
    The turmoil of self loathing
    The puzzles of normalcy
    The grind of convention
    A need to cover and protect
    To find solice in the honey locust
    A handful of shade in Phoenix
    An empty room is a cave
    You can’t run from the blood on the carpet
    The Muse comes with baggage
    And plumes of damaged wings
    She taunts with modern limits
    She hides the car keys in the planter
    We dance upon white coals
    We shout primal urges
    We like our festering wounds
    There is daylight approaching
    We are two ancient moths
    Drawn to everyday flame

  14. avatar
    danny | 7 March 2012 at 1:12 pm #

    Zeitgest!…that’s pretty damn funny…and good!

  15. avatar
    matthew | 7 March 2012 at 1:28 pm #

    lovely, vivid stuff.

  16. avatar
    Michel | 7 March 2012 at 10:42 pm #

    Dali-cious shirt, inverted persistence of memory or inverted picture ?
    Soft watches for hard times…

  17. avatar
    hellbound heart | 8 March 2012 at 8:09 pm #

    love love love it…..sleep is something I need and never seem to get enough of
    love always…..

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