posted on August 19, 2012 at 8:41 am

never knew wolfgang was clairvoyant till i saw him get a flash in the street


a beautiful beast alights in the night

in my warmest cabin heart in my soft childhood glow

in my cosy hour before sleep i’m all dreamy

all my memories are soft and red

my dad is dead and alive

in my blessings which i counted on

i roll my dice twice not quite a full house

a pair of coincidences

a pair of choose

a single point of implosion from whence springs forth universes

my man

as i sleep i wrote this poem right now

in my dreamiest dream i am a great poet writing his book

blah blah fucking blah i go

some medieval doctor ponced up in my gown

against a backdrop of castles and towers and forests i go

a man of astronomy a man of the lord

certain rites that unconstrain my soul

i wander in the cemetery come across my own grave

that cant be right !…. i must be confused

someone is waving a flag in my face

go on!  screams the crowd whove gathered around

with my foot to the floor i sped in to a beyond

slow down! warns the law

i hurtle recklessly unable to stop

god in his universal form is almost unobtainable

our ears would burst our eyes would grow opaque

our minds our books our grandest theory fails to contain him …

asking him why he did this or didnt do that……?

why ….its like  a flea asking leo da vinci about his tea..


more and more i feel his presence

one thing at a time

in his different aspects

i feel the blessings of saraswati goddess of art

as my fingers travel over wood and paper and wires and keys

as i try with my mind tho always via my fingers to pull something out

pull something out of this stubborn darkness that does not always give lightly

somehow i have received her sublime blessings

it is with with great love she guides her devotees

now a new voice directs my hand

it guides me over shadow through echo out of hyperbole

oh wonderful spirit i cannot accept your gifts without proclaiming your generosity!

i saw my fathers fingers wander over his piano

how do you know what theyre doing ? i asked him once

i dont know they just do it on their own now ..he said

the music itself would take him and it would make his fingers roam the keys

only occasionally crashing into discord

the spirit that good spirit has possessed and moved through me too

oh great joy and blessings my beautiful children all too singing playing

making and will make more beautiful music for this world

humble servants of a greater creator

who says to the birds sing !

he says to man sing !

man says but what do we sing?

he says to man everything you sing will in some way be me

man says where will i find you when i need you?

but man realises he is in an empty room on his own

talking to himself





47 Responses to “menagerie of imaginary things”

  1. avatar
    BROKEN TOYS AND HEROS | 19 August 2012 at 9:49 am #

    Brilliant !!!

    That’s some good writing ya doin there in that office/studio
    of urz – I think its ready for landmark status Killer !!!


    • avatar
      BROKEN TOYS AND HEROS | 20 August 2012 at 3:31 am #

      Any news on the 3 new t-shirts ???

      Put me down for all 3 x 2 set orders , gonna treat
      Ben (‘stealthblue’ …remember Benny ?) to a complete set…I know he hasnt been
      keeping updated on the blog for quité some time- pressing amounts of
      heavy family and health issues – spinning life off course- why always the good people ?
      I was hoping a cool present would bring him back into the fold…U kno im a giver…
      BTW- u never told me if u liked the house warming gift??? Have u used it ?
      Many of those waxes make the home smell incredible…….:……i use mine every day…..:…..

      to : Sam-
      do u hav a timetable on these – the new merch ?
      Ur such a diamond gem – hav a grand day …….:……..


  2. avatar
    Patrick Coholan | 19 August 2012 at 9:49 am #

    To The Time Being: That is a nice poem. I like the accompanying art, too–it is like a reminder where to focus! And also the heart… So I hope you are doing great and get lots of pleasant responses to this day’s writing you have put together in such a cool way. I dig! Ha, hope the night is again enlightening for you when you create in your consciousness the way you do! By rhe way, the friends of mine who were talking about music reassured me I am on the right track, even nobody is publishing me. [I make a little doing caretaking in gardens.] All the best and let’s look forward to music and cheer! Best regards. –Patrick

  3. avatar
    Chris | 19 August 2012 at 9:57 am #

    Beautiful Steve…worthy of the Book of Psalms….diaphanous and translucent….love the image of your father’s fingers roaming the keys guided by the Spirit….the Muse….the One….

  4. avatar
    princey | 19 August 2012 at 10:37 am #

    Hi sk, catching up reading your blogs is always a pleasure!
    Have a lovely Sunday and look forward to seeing you in September 🙂

  5. avatar
    Paul Anthony Matthew's | 19 August 2012 at 10:45 am #

    I can read the infinite wisdom you had always possessed. A epiphany awoken thee from out of the midst. Always tapping at your door reminding you you’re gift and graciously you except the beautiful words, the poet.

  6. avatar
    Anonymous | 19 August 2012 at 12:51 pm #

    I imagine… on an island as the sun rushes its rays around and across and through the night – breaking back into the next day’s light, there is no other noise than that of Him pleased. good morning friday. yes, it is… good morning to you too dr. livingston

  7. avatar
    Chris | 19 August 2012 at 2:36 pm #

    You SHOULD write a book Steve….containing your poems, reflections, philosophy of music art and life…..all illustrated with Sam’s ‘Moroccan myrrh and incense’ photographs. It would have wide appeal. I’d but a bakers dozen of ’em! Bring it on….photo of author in front cover in paisley silk gown and Moroccan slippers in his castle with towers in the Bondi forest….

    light up the world
    with poems from within you
    have no doubt
    shout it out
    have no doubts
    for the time of love is now
    and your days of love are 
    always in a dream 
    you know

    ( marc bolan )

    • avatar
      thetimebeing | 19 August 2012 at 5:31 pm #

      the grand vizier of the eastern suburbs ?
      love your quote from marc
      that line always slew me!

  8. avatar
    Chris | 19 August 2012 at 3:46 pm #

    old men ought to be explorers
    here and there does not matter
    we must be still and still moving
    into another intensity
    for another union
    a deeper communion

    T S Eliot

  9. avatar
    Chris | 19 August 2012 at 4:19 pm #

    The complexity of Steve’s thoughts on God and how God interacts with us reflects the paradox that we humans beings find it difficult to comprehend the mystery of God’s simplicity. It reflects the fact that, because we human beings in this Time of Being share in the ultimate mystery that is God, we too cannot be reduced to a few simple notions and statements. God-talk and reflection is complex because in dealing with God and ourselves we must exclude no human experience from its ambit, for in all of our experiences the God of all things is present. Poetry is perhaps the best vehicle for our God explorations, for poetry alone has a depth of meaning that can carry the complexity of reality and point to what is both seen and unseen. And poetry is concerned with all of experience…nothing is excluded from its explorations…just as God is concerned with all of human experience…none of us are excluded from God’s loving gaze….

  10. avatar
    Chris | 19 August 2012 at 4:27 pm #

    Abou Ben Adhem

    Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
    Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
    And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
    Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
    An angel writing in a book of gold:— 
    Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
    And to the Presence in the room he said
    “What writest thou?”—The vision raised its head,
    And with a look made of all sweet accord,
    Answered “The names of those who love the Lord.”
    “And is mine one?” said Abou. “Nay, not so,”
    Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,
    But cheerly still, and said “I pray thee, then,
    Write me as one that loves his fellow men.”

    The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night
    It came again with a great wakening light,
    And showed the names whom love of God had blessed,
    And lo! Ben Adhem’s name led all the rest.

  11. avatar
    Anonymous | 19 August 2012 at 8:22 pm #

    my reality – many people i know live in an empty room, abandoned by the higher life, abandoned by the earthly life, abandoned and alone, in pain, stripped bare in the worst kind of way. i’m often now hardened in heart towards all except those who see and understand genuine suffering – that which is not of the neurotic kind. All those mushy feelings out there about ‘god’ lead to more obstacles, as do words that are not grounded in real suffering and in belief that burns from the depths of humility. I am not innnocent, but i know. Perhaps it is the neurotic suffering that leads to the idea of a god. I can only pray – yes I pray at my lowest points, not to a construct of a god, but to the ether of nothingness (all i have to left to believe in) – that the hardening burns me clean. If it doesn’t i will be swallowed up by that nothingness. Many words i write, but do they say anything…

  12. avatar
    Anonymous | 19 August 2012 at 9:25 pm #

    ps: i am sure i just to need to get laid – then my chemicals will soften and I will remember the delusions. And i will burn with earthly passion for all that is meaningless and meaningful and meaning making and mean making and mealy making. God help me

  13. avatar
    hellbound heart | 19 August 2012 at 9:36 pm #

    yes…, please
    <3 <3 <3
    blessings, blessings and more blessings for my beautiful cd…..

  14. avatar
    narelle | 19 August 2012 at 11:14 pm #

    amazing photo…..and poetry Steve
    the ‘in an empty room’ line does remind one of
    before enlightement chop wood carry water
    after enlightenment chop wood carry water
    also, suppose you know……of course you know that Marc Bolans biograghy is due for release on the 13th september..of course

    • avatar
      Cocoamo | 24 August 2012 at 4:47 am #

      I hadn’t heard about the chop wood carry water thing. I see.

      This morning, I spent 3 hours on my hands and knees cutting burs at their bases and dabbing on weed killer to their little stumps w/an artist’s brush. It’s the only way I know to keep them from growing. The blood and sweat flow profusely. Insects alight, chew, sting and bite at their pleasure. The thorns lust for my blood and succeed. The burs may die, but their revenge is instant. I drag the heavy piles of thorny masses to the burn pile.

      There is something deeply satisfying about this all though – enlightenment? I thought it must be good for me–I seem to keep repeating such things in my life. And I always think, who else would do this?

  15. avatar
    Lara | 19 August 2012 at 11:23 pm #

    Kind of Whitmanesque, there. Except for the very end.

  16. avatar
    Anonymous | 20 August 2012 at 4:08 pm #

    love is elusive when the surface is shaved
    when the tentacles are sliced
    the love that pierces
    the love that takes you from without
    that enters with sails
    and bastes with doubt and debt
    is the love that was never was

    now woken in this space
    my home resists
    the colony known as me;
    it will disappear
    it will disintegrate
    it will deviate
    but it is here now
    blowing the cover of the other

    the other that is not the stone the small boy skims over water
    that is the rock the large boy clenches and slams
    sucking my days into the splash
    of your water
    you took my air as if it was your own
    but now you are still

    the mass lies silent this morning
    the shore laps the dark grey flesh
    a tremor of memory cuts through the clack
    of mental tracks, forever on repeat
    the last dead seal came before another’s breaking
    is this now a sign of something bad to come
    or a demand to turn for home,
    back to water that is me, not you
    and then there is another
    a smaller baby seal, smiling still
    bookends of death to a nightmare gone between
    or offering the tension of fire
    the signs and symptoms now beg for sacrifice
    of what?

    my ship is out there again
    draped in the haze of a shady dream
    the grim reaper stalking?
    another chapter yearning to set sail?
    markers light the way to death or new life
    but i won’t know if it’s you until I’m out there again

  17. avatar
    Anonymous | 20 August 2012 at 4:36 pm #

    when i add the new to repetitive old
    a pirate to myself
    a paradox that knows no shame
    when i borrow your blues
    when i repeat the gelid and known
    over and evenly
    when i care no more
    or no less
    for the beggar or the cracksman
    the white trash or the summer spades
    when I run reckless rounds with the
    brumbies on the hill
    the door will open and with haste I shall be gone

  18. avatar
    Chris | 20 August 2012 at 6:51 pm #

    ‘sucking my days into the splash of your water’

    ‘when I run reckless rounds with the brumbies on the hill’

    …nice…very nice….

  19. avatar
    BROKEN TOYS AND HEROS | 20 August 2012 at 7:54 pm #

    Today, 08-20-2012 is my Bday…
    I can’t say I very much like them anymore
    but our sweet little Kristina takes it upon herself
    to celebrate the special day for you , for anyone…
    I ask her why she gets so excited for birthdays and she says :

    “for the candles and cake – silly – but daddy me n mommy couldn’t find you
    any belly dancers like you wanted” …

    It kinda sux not receiving what you asked for…
    why does anyone ask u what u want when they have
    no plan on giving it to u anyways …

    I really don’t like birthdays that much… I should have asked for
    a unicorn…


    • avatar
      thetimebeing | 20 August 2012 at 8:15 pm #

      h. b.

      • avatar
        BROKEN TOYS AND HEROS | 20 August 2012 at 10:11 pm #

        thanks Killer !

        and thanks for the unicorn…

        • Kraig
          Kraig | 28 August 2012 at 6:51 am #

          Happy Birthday Daz, a little belated, but celebrate anyway you can my man! Cheers!

    • avatar
      lisa k | 21 August 2012 at 11:49 am #

      Happy Birthday Darrin! Hope you had a great day.

      • avatar
        BROKEN TOYS AND HEROS | 22 August 2012 at 10:54 pm #

        ……. :+) ……..

  20. avatar
    Chris | 20 August 2012 at 11:43 pm #

    receding rock god

    the music weaves in between the pages and the stages of their lives
    poetry for the soul set to the music of the spheres
    the crowds have died along and down
    they retrace their steps in their silent reminiscences
    tapestries of gossamer memories
    they have returned to their labours with only their dreams to sustain
    unrequited unrehearsed unprepared for the march and augusts of time
    mystical melodies echo fade and return
    songs of youth for Dorian’s greying hair
    can I have it back please with every detail as it was
    in place in places where I stood and kissed and danced among the stars

  21. avatar
    sonny | 21 August 2012 at 3:41 am #

    ttb, it isnt bowie or bolan that sing in my head. it is you.
    much love on ya steve.

  22. avatar
    Galamor the Wizard | 21 August 2012 at 8:26 pm #

    Totally off track BUT really enjoying the 2 new Bandcamp pieces. Love the sitar florish in 101 girl (a la Paper Sun Traffic!).

  23. avatar
    Anonymous | 21 August 2012 at 10:01 pm #

    another day on an island

    stepping out from the car
    the wind smacks
    no it whacks my face
    it levels where i deviate and deliberate
    the chill of notus is on fire
    sweeping me down a path of no return
    don’t look back
    you are with me, not against me now
    your name is acquiescence
    if you wait too long i will slap you in the back
    your dithering will be whipped with fine lines
    on this island of little flippers
    where dizzying swells circle just below
    to wash away the sins of an ancient rodent
    born from the pulse of angry impatience
    this glorious wasteland
    of swirling rock pools, illuminating silence
    waiting on sentient oceans
    ejected from the mouth of a cave so grand
    it retreats in disarray
    gathering around are the rocky spectators
    mildly mediating the past and future
    where i will stand one day
    in awe
    of the crocodile now curled and asleep
    who will have woken
    when green has turned to stone
    and I will remember something familiar
    just out of my reach

  24. avatar
    Anonymous | 22 August 2012 at 6:37 pm #

    i returned to the dead
    and more had come in my absence
    my necropolis
    filling with wonders of wild seas
    while human corpses pass
    pretending they are alive
    animation they confuse with creation
    but too late they will remember
    the time we worship will not protect
    the sun now setting beyond my window
    is already gone

  25. avatar
    BROKEN TOYS AND HEROS | 22 August 2012 at 10:42 pm #

    …when the blackened night gathers that last piece of darkness
    And graciously the gray moonlit clouds unadorned
    …only the wretched poets, dreamers and madmen
    Will sail out into this coming storm *

    …and its most certainly the final sign
    That all things have gotten out of hand when
    …one can purchase their very own death , ironically
    by just chosing it from amongst the other brands*

    …now thoughts give away to anger as the masses
    Loudly curse at simple blind fate
    …that in a world of endless opportunities
    It is all an endless line where we must just stand and
    wait *


  26. avatar
    DogWater | 22 August 2012 at 10:59 pm #

    Very, very off track but I am really loving Saint Lou Lou’s “Maybe You” right now. Dad must be very proud!

  27. avatar
    Chris | 23 August 2012 at 12:02 pm #

    A theologian is someone who looks into the sun knowing that they could be blinded by the light…

  28. avatar
    Anonymous | 23 August 2012 at 4:45 pm #

    a theologian is someone who avoids the sun

  29. avatar
    Anonymous | 23 August 2012 at 8:27 pm #

    comment board filler

    there is a pain that erupts
    when you lie drenched in the gasp
    of a cornered doe
    it comes when you forget
    for too long
    it comes because
    tomorrow will be carved from the pain
    you meet without restraint today

  30. avatar
    belstaff coat | 31 January 2015 at 8:43 pm #

    belstaff kids lunch 91311

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