posted on January 11, 2010 at 8:23 am

a golden misty cloud comes down on the city
through the window that delicious breeze
the sound of children playing far off far out
a plane the inevitable plane above us
the planes we travel through at night
the way we interpret the future
the way we anticipate our death
in a split second in time
in a split second in space
a tiny slice of civilization plods along happily
most of sydney still on holiday
its quiet out there
the pale gold thing slumbers in the drive
broken slivers of mirrors
ants n thorny weeds
sand like grey dusty soil surprisingly yields a riot of flowers
people check into their rooms
a million soy lattes are on the bubble
people with their plans for extensions
a cape cod n a rumpus room with ocean glimpses
and in this weather my thoughts turn to the indian gods
and to the jungles and forests
and the swans gliding on ponds which reflect the bengali sky
and i sit in the quiet darkness of the forest of suburbia
and the trees moving bending gracefully in seabreezes
and the twinkling streetlights like stars
as the light turns to peach
and everything is temporarily soft
the flyscreens are busted n flap in the wind
clouds hover like equatorial fish
rice paper rolls for dinner
we sit in the grey quiet of the kitchen
the parrots call out chatter and are suddenly silent
some trees hardly move in the winds
they stand erect like phalli
other trees bounce and shiver and shimmy down
all from the same soil n water n sun these different trees
i go swimming
in the pool is a piece of eel
i bump into it
it had gone thru the pump explained a guy who works there
in the sauna a few regulars a few strangers sweat it out
tho in truth one did not need a sauna today
ah but now the payoff
this delightful evening has arrived
people still half celebrating something they half forgotten
for 2 hours the world hangs suspended in twilight
everything is possible
things exchange shapes and move on
move on into warm darkness
move on into prehistoric summer night

19 Responses to “monday evening”

  1. avatar
    don joe | 11 January 2010 at 9:33 am #

    Beautiful Steve. A reflection of time here in Melb too. Purple through charcoal colored clouds float slowly. Calm indicates change ahead. Storm a brewing and eagerly awaiting this for it's cool revive and talent of nature. Another day another lifetime. Who knows?

    Ml don joe

  2. avatar
    princey | 11 January 2010 at 9:56 am #

    Ahhh Monday Evening reading the beautiful words of sk on a hot, HOT night here in Melby, nothing could be finer:)))
    love Amanda

  3. avatar
    heatherdaydream | 11 January 2010 at 10:12 am #

    ah sweet Magic Hour

  4. avatar
    ross b | 11 January 2010 at 10:44 am #

    Wonderful urban poetry, Steve, so evocative & sensual. i feel the melancholy and the sensation that something's about to crack any moment.. (!)

  5. avatar
    Anonymous | 11 January 2010 at 11:57 am #

    a welcome blog for those of us shivering in appalachia. warm, inviting, soft, round, delicious.
    i can't wait.

  6. avatar
    Anonymous | 11 January 2010 at 1:13 pm #

    Still monday morning in the eastern united states.

    ah, monday morning . . . the cracks become quite clear.

    waz it you, sir, who said it best?

    ah, ah.

    wilfred P

  7. avatar
    Anakki Mayhem | 11 January 2010 at 2:14 pm #

    that plane might've been the one i woz on… but prob not! 😉
    saw this in chinatown (adelaide) today & thought of you…
    pearl bubble milk tea
    more varieties than i ever imagined existed!


  8. avatar
    Freddie | 11 January 2010 at 3:40 pm #

    Beautiful is the only word for it.
    Enjoyed it immensely; it is as if I were there but with extra Kilbey vision. You have a way of describing things that makes one see more in something than they usually do…really great!

  9. avatar
    andychrist | 11 January 2010 at 5:45 pm #

    Brilliantly etched thoughts
    I can see and feel the warmth there
    Here I can smell the snow coming
    Given a few short hours it will unfold
    Breaking from the sky
    Blanketing the neighboring towns
    Tucking us in like down-filled silk comforters
    Then it will get quiet…hauntingly quiet.
    As some dream, some make beautiful love,
    and yet still some squabble…
    Over things so unimportant
    If we all just shhhhhh…..breathe

  10. avatar
    Ross Cooper | 11 January 2010 at 5:48 pm #

    Beautiful, indeed, Mister K.; I heartily second don joe's emotion! Reminds me of the ever-poignantly evocative poem which was included in "The Fish-Star Album"… when I read that work, with jewel-like phrases such as "Glissando Australian insects out there signalling" and "The sheer wait of nostalgia" woven into a tapestry of words, I was bowled over… Still the poet of the Age(-s)! I like the vesperal tone of your ofering of today…

    Ross C

  11. avatar
    LF | 11 January 2010 at 6:39 pm #


  12. avatar
    Ellen | 11 January 2010 at 8:20 pm #

    I am SO there.


    One Who Desperately Needs To Get Away…

  13. avatar
    davem | 11 January 2010 at 9:52 pm #

    as the light turns to peach
    and everything is temporarily soft

    Beautiful. Thank-you.

  14. avatar
    Anonymous | 11 January 2010 at 10:08 pm #

    good morning,:)xo

  15. avatar
    cazziem | 11 January 2010 at 10:31 pm #

    Here in the Costa Del Midlands, in the heart of England, on very dark and lonely evening, I get lost in your summery blogs and can feel the warmth; but then sadly I realise this is the heat from my central heating system! Highest temperature here the last few days has been a whopping 0°C!!! I spend my evenings pondering the strangest things and find myself thinking, if the world is round and rotating, then whoever has the responsibility of either winding the handle to keep it going, or replacing the batteries in this supposedly ever spinning disco ball, must be on vacation in Australia, cos your time zone is in front of ours and each time I hear of the glorious golden light that’s shining there, we end up with snow!!

    Enjoyable reading though, sounds very relaxed at the moment in Bondi. ‘sand like grey dusty soil surprisingly yields a riot of flowers, this is the way flowers should be – completely natural. Beauty is all around us, if only we’d open our eyes to see it and our hearts to feel it.

  16. avatar
    Jasperina | 12 January 2010 at 7:26 am #

    Making a variety of ceramic pieces this week attending a course at National Art School in a breezy, balmy Sydney summer. Creating, making, talking poetry and art. Life just doesn't get any better. The creative life is the best life. Thankyou for the always evocative and beautifully sketched prose.

  17. avatar
    Paperback Writer | 12 January 2010 at 8:40 am #

    Pretty good.

  18. avatar
    ASSMIDGET | 12 January 2010 at 9:04 am #

    Time for you to make a new video. i miss em.

  19. avatar
    fantasticandy | 12 January 2010 at 9:32 am #

    twilight….everything seems possible for a couple of hours.

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