posted on May 11, 2012 at 4:10 pm


strange the mind

which harps on without a string

and imagining furies

unleashes them instead

our complicated webs allow us to intersect exactly now


thats it that all led up to now

and thats the other bit stretching away before you

today i am pleasantly becalmed on the edge of sunny winter

all we can ask is being granted

this beautiful day this relative sanctuary

a voice whispers

this is gods work

why would a sensible man like me believe in some god?

a voice whispers

night approaches 

and then yes

the afternoon is rapidly fading before my eyes

the sun accumulated light heat drains from objects du jour

the greenery exhales an oxygenated hit of cool

i wrack my brain for details

but i stumble instead in my head lost in a library

inner library

down row G searching for books by God

a voice whispers

probably doesnt write under that name

of course

gods name isnt god

a voice whispers

 under every name…

i wake up outta my crystalline reverie

up in the trees somewhere

i have discovered nothing new

like us all bound to go on

and bound to earth

by a such a silken tape

and a rain of comets

a voice whispers






21 Responses to “locus astra”

  1. avatar
    colette | 11 May 2012 at 4:57 pm #

    Quite apt to read this with your radio interview in background as you speak about reincarnation and simultaneously wondering why today in Sydney has been so summery for late autumn. Not complaining…. ‘Song of the City’… 🙂

  2. avatar
    Anonymous | 11 May 2012 at 4:58 pm #

    light; truth; peace; nirvana; friend; guide; creator; love; ecstasy; gound of being; ultimate truth; shaper of souls; divine lover; hound of heaven;
    the One; wind of heaven; Spirit; I Am; Yahweh; Adonai; Mother of us all; one who strips away the frivolous bullshit of humanty’s ceasless chattering; source of all; eternal being; searing awareness that reduces us to flocculent ash; sea of love….I find the word ‘God’ so little these days….

  3. avatar
    Anonymous | 11 May 2012 at 4:59 pm #

    ‘silken tape and a rain of comets’….you have the cosmos speaking through you, man….must be scary at times….

  4. avatar
    Anonymous | 11 May 2012 at 5:04 pm #

    ocean of wisdom; divine playmate; inspirer; ultimate one; music of the universe and further; image of us….

  5. avatar
    CAth Meeson | 11 May 2012 at 5:18 pm #

    And the little silk worm, spun, on and on and on, for as long as it took for them all to awaken to their gnosis…..the divinities within……laughing warring, loving, cursing, according to the whims of the moment, or the many, or mood!

    Nothing new, but revelry and a sense of contentment. Mirror.
    Maybe the minds vibrations are louder than any audible thing?.
    Grateful, for the now bang!

  6. avatar
    Michel | 11 May 2012 at 5:43 pm #

    IMO :
    – God doesn’t like to write.
    – But he sure makes music under the pseudo of “The Church”.

    • avatar
      Cocoamo | 12 May 2012 at 1:22 pm #

      What a beautifully profound statement! I concur.

  7. avatar
    Chris | 11 May 2012 at 6:12 pm #

    cool photo…you like the narrator from Paradise Lost.

  8. avatar
    Anonymous | 11 May 2012 at 7:15 pm #

    I wish for a rain of comets to saturate the world. Die, humans, die!

  9. avatar
    bernadette keys | 11 May 2012 at 8:22 pm #

    now that is a very good poem…best in a while

  10. avatar
    Chris | 11 May 2012 at 10:09 pm #

    Do you do paid speaking engagements Steve ie. Read your poetry publicly? Who is your management?

  11. avatar
    M E M | 12 May 2012 at 1:46 am #

    because the night was made for love
    because the night was made for lovers…

  12. avatar
    BROKEN TOYS AND HEROS | 12 May 2012 at 2:19 am #

    Have a great weekend Killer and Company !!!

    Love the pic !!!

    My lower back went completely ‘out’ again and the doctors want me in
    the hospital ASAP, the pain is insane…but the thought of another
    long hospital stay chills me to the bone….do I ride this out at home ???
    or do I let them screw me up some more inside their torture chambers and toxic drugs ???
    It’s not like I will find the necessary sleep to heal my body in either place….
    This is really bad !!!!

    I haven’t felt pain like this since I originally injured it in April 2006….


  13. avatar
    Anonymous | 12 May 2012 at 5:20 am #

    NOOO No releasing Any More Furies…LOL…
    Nice Line….
    “all we can ask is being granted
    this beautiful day this relative sanctuary
    a voice whispers”
    “this is gods work”…LOL…LOL…

    Dude such a Church song title….LOL…LOL..
    “Crystalline Revelry”

    Nice ending even the spacing of the stanza matches the Ending

  14. avatar
    Stewart | 12 May 2012 at 8:17 am #

    An essence of grandeur made manifest
    Steeped in the integrity of a thousand vagabond artists
    A temple possessed by the in crowd of the outsiders
    Spirits in the carpet, diluted, attempting vainly to grip my feet
    A soundtrack in the key of keys and ounces and grams
    Lyrics echoing with perfect sales pitch, ‘you wanna score?’
    Mezzanine detachment
    The warm embrace of middle level shadows
    White lines between me and the writhing nest below
    The Astra 82?
    Memories faded in appropriate places

  15. avatar
    Chris | 12 May 2012 at 1:01 pm #

    @Stewart…nice…very nice.

  16. avatar
    DavidP | 12 May 2012 at 4:14 pm #

    location: astral region
    tangled in a web of thoughts
    spun by intellectual spider mind
    the little annoyances throughout the day
    building to an explosive outburst
    the last straw that breaks camels back
    taints future perspective
    unless we can let it go
    self-observe the inner deceiving voices
    leading us up the garden path to no new thing
    sacrifice the inferior so the superior can take its place
    the seed must die for the plant to be born

  17. avatar
    Anonymous | 12 May 2012 at 4:48 pm #

    U think guy chadwick is stacking shelves at costco yet?

  18. avatar
    colette | 12 May 2012 at 5:55 pm #

    Locusts eating loquats and lotus on starry nights in pleasant places and arbours despite hardships. To work is to pray (laborare est orare). That motto was above the science lab at school and I liked how the praying part distracted me from the idea of methodical scientific thinking, although I guess even making mistakes via work is still prayer?

  19. avatar
    hellbound heart | 13 May 2012 at 9:54 am #

    indeed, this is a gorgeous season……

  20. avatar
    Chris | 3 August 2012 at 10:02 pm #

    Steve is one of the few significant Australian artists, identities and social commentators to be keeping the classical myth alive. This is intensely important. The great myths of human civilisation, such as those of Odysseus and Antigone, proceed from the deep and collective unconscious of humanity. Our myths are stories and images that are not always true in particular, but are entirely true in general. They are usually not historical fact but are invariably spiritual genius. They hold life and death, the explainable and the unexplainable together as one; they hold together the paradoxes that the rational mind cannot process by itself. As good poetry does, myths make unclear and confused emotions brilliantly clear and life changing. Myths pull us into deep time: time which encompasses all time, past and future, geological and cosmological, and not just our brief phase. In immersing ourself in the great myths, we belong to a Mystery far grander than our small worlds. Great poets and spiritual mystics always know this. A loss of mythic consciousness leads to the growth of rigid rationalist fundamentalism, and the rise of the ineffective, cruel and disorienting myths such as communism, fascism, terrorism, materialism and consumerism. When we lose familiarity with classic myths we become prey to the invisible and destructive myths, because we do not have the eyes to see how great healing myths function. We must always be searching in the richest narratives of human culture to see the invisible story contained in the visible stories. As Steve, says, ” All I ever wanted to see was just invisible to me…”

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