posted on May 20, 2011 at 11:02 pm

avarice n lust

was an angular evening

all edges and corners

and the light spiralled out of the dark sky like glass

and the palms and the pines stood sullen and cold

as the driverless cars approach through the night

as we wait in some kitchen to weigh up the powder

as we stand all in line to check out our stuff

as we walk in the light of the blue neon cross

as we crunch up the numbers that add up to nothing

as we pull off our clothes lie listless in bed

i separate into all of my being

i overtake then the speed  i am moving

but i veer to the left

and i swerve to the right

and all of my songs start to turn round and bite me

and all of those words start to throb in my head

i remember it all

like it was yesterday

it was yesterday says somebody else

i turn around theyre calling my number

i come around theyre paging my book

i  look around the deserted hot fleshpots

i puff for a while on the residue of love

i reach in my pocket and pull out a hand

i empty my eyes of the things i have seen

the jealous thoughts that all manifested

the anger and violence so blindly released

the way that a star shines in the sea

the way that an enemy waits till your weak

the way a morning screams in your ear

when you wake with a stranger giving you hook

when you walk with some bastard some animal jack

when you play with some lowboy and give him the lot

when you go to the city where nobody lives

and you go to the sleep where nobody dreams

and hearing the song that no one has sung

and your making up things that pull things apart

and your hunger for starving yourself of all  things

and you dance like a fool in the light of regret

and you prance like an ass for the fools you attract

and you terminate time with a sweep of your arm

for the pain in the past was never your blame

and the fire consumes us

and the waters still rise

and the jackals all out there

and the dragons are back

some man inventing hideous creatures

he just dreams em up and then they can fly

the six headed wrath

the one fingered rip

the semi-accordioned old bag of bones

the salt water wimp

the classic usurper

the ogre who took you back to the cave

the stupid one with money to burst

the gruesome one with the nose of a boar

the boring one who helped you out once

and the one you promised some of the moon

and the important one who owned a cafe

and the little one who had a big car

and the one with the degree in idiocy

and the one that you met as youre on your way home

and the one with the name you cant bear me to say

and the one with the magic that brings us undone

and the words that were whispers

and the gestures imbibed

and the places it happened

and the way it went down

as the snow fell and fell

as the stuff did its work

as the people around you step back and stare

as the morning thats coming turns right around

as the impossible horror of reading your mind

as the spirit blazed a trail north through your life

as the old evil burn that drives men insane

as the increasing pressure of madness on metal

as the feeling of slowing down in mid fall

one day you look up and theres nobody watching

so you take everything thats not nailed down

and you travel a path that takes you away

yes you visited lots of the stories you told

and you talked about london and you talked bout new york

and you talked about anything

and nothing taboo

you said youd been hired to play acute nightmare

you said youd auditioned for the saturday crowd

you said someone wants you to fly his new planet

you said someone offered you cash for your heart

you said someone lovely had just picked you out

you said someone wealthy had paid for your kick

you said someone awful had accessed your oh!

you said someone strong had weakened your grasp

and the evening was angular

all window and mirror

and the colours were smeared on the glow of the fog

at the edge of the high way  rushing by liquid

and a dip in the road

and an end of a line









24 Responses to “new burn”

  1. avatar
    Guitarbarella Manestar | 20 May 2011 at 11:31 pm #

    Gee You really are an amazingly fine Time Conduit!

  2. avatar
    matthew | 20 May 2011 at 11:37 pm #

    Amazing. I gave up internetness for 4 (four) consecutive nights due to an early daygig, deferring access to my teenage daughter for her goodly scholarly purposes… So, that was really quite a reward, Fridayly speaking – thanks Steve for so many lines of intricate depth!

  3. avatar
    Phil | 20 May 2011 at 11:45 pm #

    “and the light spiralled out of the dark sky like glass”

    “and the colours were smeared on the glow of the fog”

    Great imagery

  4. avatar
    andy | 20 May 2011 at 11:53 pm #


  5. avatar
    Boriah | 21 May 2011 at 12:43 am #

    You sound desperate and ravenous. Are you driven by the echo of a solitary siren?

  6. avatar
    . | 21 May 2011 at 5:12 am #

    The cold air surrounds you, a gentle sting across your face
    your nose numbing in this strange and beautiful place
    perfect stillness and clarity, the love cannot be mistaken
    a fading black & white you remembered from before the war
    a throwback memory of you and your friends from before
    when naiveté held you brashly and securely, nothing more
    than the moments in front of you, the sea and the shore
    how sweet those feelings are as they comfort warmly
    a collection of sustaining testaments imprinted on the soul
    holding hands, laughing, joking, dreaming, embracing life fully
    ambitious, impulsive, like maverick captains on a raging sea
    it was on the white sands that you acknowledged the universe
    amidst the magnificence and perfection of the waves and the tide
    telling you that anything and everything fit into its own place
    it’s strange how quickly things changed, friends come and grow
    individually, masters of their own vineyards in parallel shows
    time and war creep slowly into our little perfect worlds
    ambushed with your soldier brothers and sisters just an eye blink ago
    no more fighting, now, alone, you’re waiting for another answer, face
    the light, close your eyes, fall back into yourself and concentrate
    now on the other side, ancient and tangible, of course you couldn’t know
    what it was like to pass through the holy veil, the falling snow
    reminds you of angelic heartbeats, one by one, glowing
    as worlds within themselves just waiting to be discovered
    what it all means remains to be learned and uncovered
    in the distance you see glowing visions, guardian angels
    here to welcome you and cross over
    wait a minute, it is, no way…
    it can’t be…
    big brother…
    love like no other

    • avatar
      thetimebeing | 21 May 2011 at 9:53 am #

      this is beautiful stuff

    • avatar
      ticktockclarice | 21 May 2011 at 11:06 am #

      This is unbelievably gorgeous! I was just reading about the funeral of Claude Choules, the last World War 1 veteran, and this poem just seems to tie in beautifully. Well done. And SK, what can i say? Your poetry in your latest blog entries just continues to go from the sublime to…well, the even MORE sublime. I love your music and lyrics but i truly believe a lot of the stuff you write on here is far stronger than what you commit to vinyl. I mean, those two photo montages you did recently, just about every caption was a song or album title. And the 2 lines Phil mentioned, plus my personal favourite “and your hunger for starving yourself of all things” Well, i’m just in awe that’s all. Your mind is truly a (woefully underappreciated) national treasure. Well, i’m off to enjoy (allegedly) the Last Day On Earth. Seems like a bit of an anticlimax so far if you ask me, ha ha. (this blog excepted of course).

      • avatar
        isolde | 21 May 2011 at 1:22 pm #

        I agree please do a blog poetry reading cd with this as one of the 20 tracks

    • avatar
      Richard | 21 May 2011 at 10:46 pm #

      gotta echo the others
      dot (can I call you ‘dot’? sounds better than ‘full stop’ or ‘period’) your contributions are consistently wonderful

      • avatar
        . | 23 May 2011 at 11:19 am #

        thank you.

        but thank the time being for his inspiration and forum to allow people like us to share our thoughts and ideas. i learn and grow from reading steve’s poetry and everyone’s responses to it. it is really enlightening.

  7. avatar
    Tanya | 21 May 2011 at 8:54 am #


    ‘Walking in the light of the blue neon cross.’
    There’s a red neon cross on an old small church in the middle of nowhere some miles away from the non-intellentually stimulating, banal small town that I currently sleep in. It hit me as oxymoronic, thinking of the symbolism/meaning of the cross being lit up like a beer sign. I would have assumed that the only place I would expect to see a neon cross is in a drive-thru chapel in Las Vegas. The blue cross in your blog is an essential part of your visualized artistic expression. The red one I saw is tacky.

  8. avatar
    princey | 21 May 2011 at 9:19 am #

    Back with a bang sk. That photo with you (I think?) lurking in the background, I like 🙂

  9. avatar
    Donna | 21 May 2011 at 10:53 am #

    I really love this! It’s as if you grab us by the hand and we fly high above the earth, through time and space, and are treated to a panoramic view of your(?) life. Moment after moment, place after place, until we reach the end of the line. Love it.

    Well, I’ve looked at that photograph a few times now, with my eyes squinted, like it’s one of those ink blot tests. Is this a test? I’m not good at tests… I see the “lust”….where’s the “avarice”? LOL

  10. avatar
    Karen | 21 May 2011 at 12:00 pm #

    blew my mindgasket again
    wish I could express myself like that

    Ive pranced like an arse & danced like a fool & walked with wayyyy too many bastards

  11. avatar
    Once | 21 May 2011 at 12:42 pm #

    On the world’s last day I went to work
    Like every other day, but with a different vibration
    Something everyone knew, and no one believed
    Because no one is immune from the “What if?”
    Not the most devout atheist
    Nor adhering believer (“What if not?”)
    After work a text and she’d had cancer
    Recovered, same surgery I had
    But she can’t eat, thin’s in but not herein
    And I know who’s got the cookies
    So next texts later, we get there AND
    Same old shit, different plane, for me anyway
    Couldn’t go in the place, and T’d from the carspace
    After purchasing the free compass app on iPhone
    And using it
    We’re in the East parking lot
    Knew that anyway but the driver didn’t
    So our girl calls us
    You gotta drive past the entrance to leave anyway
    I’ll wait there and it occurs to me as we pull round
    How very old we are, and how cautious, and
    Dare I say respectful?
    Maybe it’s judgement day. Maybe it’s cancer.
    Either way…
    On the world’s last day I went to work
    Like every other day…

  12. avatar
    Once | 21 May 2011 at 12:53 pm #

    Btw – just put on Snow Job…OMG. Two songs in and mesmerized

    I can’t even BELIEVE how much I love this.

    At the risk of being horrendously American – DUDE.

    • avatar
      . | 22 May 2011 at 1:53 am #

      I love this line from Snow Job…

      “it’s not about right or wrong…it’s just a little song…”

  13. avatar
    Jonny Hollywood | 21 May 2011 at 5:59 pm #

    like Andy said, “smokin’!”, i too would like to puff for awhile on the residue of love 🙂 great line SK!!!

  14. avatar
    Night Mare | 21 May 2011 at 6:22 pm #

    Our dreamselves,
    hidden beneath our real selves.
    scaling the razor that slices through sleep and awake…
    Not idealistic yet scared in our own comfort.
    Cleaved by speak in the softest authoritative voice,
    the doctor and his nurse touch our paper thin eyelids to keep us somewhere in the middle,
    to ensure we are our dreamselves while they carry out their acts.
    Insidious to some, a necessity to others.

    translucent doppelgangers emerge from our dreamselves and slowly become full.
    we float down muddy rivers with pitch shifted voices laughing at us
    laughing at the fucking joke that is our minuscule lives and petty concerns.

    You won’t be awake. You won’t be asleep.
    You will follow the pull like a drug…like a lovelorn little bastard.
    the night is thin.
    heart murmurs and whispers.

    Our dreamselves..why? Did you even know?
    The Answer lies hidden…hidden like your eyes below the lids.

  15. avatar
    hellbound heart | 21 May 2011 at 8:02 pm #

    i puff for a while on the residue of love…….
    ashes, cold, pungent with the remains of lust
    heart, metallic, clanking and grinding of eroded gears
    echoes of sighs and endearments whisper in the dank darkness
    miniscule minutae of pendulum
    marking time no longer passing
    for no one exists in this void
    scraps, fragments, drifting remnants of lives past
    dissipate like mist
    forever dissolute

  16. avatar
    Ess | 21 May 2011 at 8:24 pm #

    Beautiful to read this and take in the offerings from others as well. thanks to all. I have to add something.

    she is really something this one, he said, and he said again
    hey she is really something, he leaned and he leered
    were the others much worse, was he seeing her straight in his little black lace
    he was famous this friend of a newly made friend
    he was someone who was someone
    i guess it meant something to a sixteen year old girl
    couldn’t be rotten to the core, must be worth some salt
    ignored the love she came to retrieve, still a gated lie
    couldn’t look it in the eye when it offered its hand
    better the lust on her and in her that burned her alive
    beautified the stain, the rush, the line
    delusions of high ground
    thought it was her own, thought it was solid
    woken in a nightmare
    chains and gallows
    a stranger’s startled den
    scream she says to her shadow, cry out
    the stranger has no mettle, the crumbs will fall
    the latches release, bolts fly to the east
    the north wind blows, she is torn in a dust storm
    a tattered red dress
    a steaming city wheeled onto set
    suburb unknown
    cue rays of sun
    under dirt trailered trucks and a glare of grubby noise
    a honk a shout
    you know we can see your arse love
    she can’t see the blind spots, the tears down her back
    the shade in hiding she sets out for the scent of homeward trails
    to wallow within a sheet, to wear out the wounds
    to bear the monotony that smears through its stains
    but the drain can’t sort its seeds
    it takes clay from its mould and steals the only line to the lie
    stones too heavy to file, a darkened angel silenced, erased
    another night, another nightmare
    communion with a gutter
    too blind to feel the shame
    thousand bucks for a blow job babe
    fuck off creep
    can’t he see her vomiting, can’t he see the child inside
    she is only sixteen, pretending to be nineteen, inept as a nine year old
    what is this hardwired hell
    stumbling from the coals
    further inside she pulls him from the fountain
    he is old, he is loaded, even more than her own
    no you don’t want to die
    why does everyone want to die, why doesn’t anyone want to live
    he goes down in the water and she holds his head
    don’t save me darling i am done with my time
    no, no, always some way to live
    nowhere to escape, that much she knew
    a wine bar on a corner
    the sober man takes her into his grace
    he gives her ten bucks for the tarot lady who tells her what she wants to hear
    he is as kind as a doe
    she is too drunk, too fired, too fearless and full to know
    he gives her more drinks
    it is his bar to own
    he takes her to a bed, but he doesn’t take her at all
    he leaves her with a future, she left without a word
    a memory of no regret
    a self in another life has vowed to return

  17. avatar
    dwellingwell | 21 May 2011 at 10:10 pm #

    Nice. It has an oracular feel to it. Almost as if it is speaking to you but isn’t really…. Like fresh traces of the time ghost that apply to everyone.

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