posted on July 3, 2007 at 5:57 am

in the nullification
at the zero mark
lying unconscious in a temple
in a jungle
looking for intuition
at the bottom of a deep well
where he lay
in his mind
so far down
under himself
into everyone
at the base level
where they say all knowledge is
but not to know
but to be
to actualise it
love in action
where everything is joined
the loftiest eagle
the crawling king cockroach
the mighty emperor
the old drunk man
the loveliest panther
the horriblest pig
the fair maidens
the hideous crones
the grass
the trees
the flowers
the seas
somewhere the intersection
an easy place where all things may rest
the lowest common denominator maybe
before pulling on your mantle
here dwelt intuition
for everything has intuition
if they could but heed it
but also a false intuition
that says i am your intuition!
but is a fraud
and then can you tell them apart…?
the false intuition has no intuition
but in all other ways is cunning
it can imitate intuition perfectly
like a photo of a sandwich
you cant get anything out of it
and many prophets become undone by false intuition
and many gamblers lose their shirts
and many women who may have a good intuition become lost
unable to trust either one
now the killer had a huge false intuition
and its voice could mimic his real flashes of insight
and this false intuition was so swollen up
with its own importance
it was inexorable
and had drowned the real thing in its clamour
and had sprouted even new false intuitions
who bayed n howled in the killers head
demanding consideration
and he had become dismayed
and ignored them all
but now…
now in this easy place
this quiet deep warm place
the false intuitions suffocated
or were dislodged
or worn away
slowly his damaged intuition awoke
to be healed
replenished
he could suss things out now
he could only tune into the real thing
he was online and ontrack
and now he was outbound
outbound and rebounding
but getting back out and up
was not that easy
he realised he was walking down a hallway
passing a few familiar doors
he could not place….
he was moving so slow
like he was entombed in transparent molasses
and it took all his will to keep moving
to keep pushing on
millimetre by century
so slow was he going
so long did it take
and when he had finally run out of will
and energy
and could not guess where he was
when he was ready to give up
and sink into slowness forever
he heard a sound
oh such a familiar sound
he hadnt heard for ages
like another world away
and he oh so wanted to hear a little more
so he pushed against slowness with all his might
and he made headway
and the sound got closer
it was ….
it was a piano
yes it was someone playing a piano
it was kind of what his father called a boogie woogie
something about this thought made him smile
and he started to gain ground on the slowness
a door loomed large at the end of the hall
actually there was a door to the right as well
and it was open
why it was the door to the outside world…!
and he looked at that outside world
a world of summer lawns and sprinklers
and long dusks with families sitting outside in the garden
and everything seemed so simple there
and his intuition spoke up and said
this would be nice
and he stepped through the door a little
he was on a little balcony with steps going down
to the front lawn which sloped to meet the street
he looked down and saw he had grown young
his beard was gone and he was youthful once more
and he stood there marvelling at this simple world
this uncomplicated summerplace
everything still lay ahead
he had time in fucking spades again
the temple
his men
it seemed like a dream to him
his intuition spoke again
this would be nice but…..
and it said no more
troubled slightly he stood there
already a shadow cast across this eden
and he knew his intuition had spoken the truth
but he had free will to ignore it
to over-ride its advice
the piano was still tinkling away behind the otherdoor
but he wanted to somehow forget that now
oh lord it was 1971 and he was 17
oh how light his step and spring in his stride
he walked down the steps
his blue mazda was parked there
his old tiny mazda with the column gear stick
the tinny radio was on
blaring out heart of gold or tiny dancer
he jumped in
turn the keys and hes off
down the road
into archibald street
up to dryandra
and away
driving round and round
listening to everysong on the radio
that burst out in living colour before his ears
and hes driving n driving
and are there other cars on the road?
he never notices
and hes driving round kingston n barton
ha ha theres the old offices where i will oneday work
he thought
a confusing thought
but an amusing thought
how this olde experienced him will change things
this time around
and theres the shop i bought toasted tomato sandwiches
and yoghurt and the canberra times
and i was sitting at work reading the illuminati books
and at night i went home and worked on music
and everyone except my 2 brothers thought my music was awful
and i started to smoke dope before during n after work
and everything became hilarious
but thats all a long time in the future or past
whichever way you wanna look at it
points on a circle maybe
reconcilable contradictions perhaps
thats just humanspeak
it aint like that to a dog or a whale
(i guess)
anyway
for now
the real now
in this story
our hero the killer
is 17
recently turned 17 from 52
and boy thats a nice jump to make
like a thousand years of yoga
and a thousand years of swimming
and a thousand shots of botox
and a thousand gallons of skin gloop
and a thousand plastic surgeons all a sewing
and a thousand diets
and a thousand sit ups for a thousand times
yes youth feels so good
this would be nice but…
said intuition again
sooner or later
he parked his car at the kingston shops
and he had a walk
there was a record shop tucked away
that sometimes stocked rare or imported records
in the window was a pair of white faces
on the cover of an album
the album bore the title t.rex
he stared at the face on the left
powdered with theatrical makeup
surrounded by flowing curls
the man looked like a greek tragedian crossed with a faun
he stared and stared at the face
it seemed like it was trying to tell him something
it seemed the lips were moving
he could hear a voice
he could hear lovely music
be like you could the voice sang
this would be nice but…
sang his intuition
he turned and headed for the car
immediately the slowness oppressed him again
after a million years he fought his way to the car
he took off down the road
back towards his house in lyneham
back towards that other door
to the piano
to give up this new found youth
to help his friends
to seek his destiny

tbc

*

43 Responses to “orpheus in the undercoat”

  1. avatar
    Fandorin | 3 July 2007 at 7:22 am #

    a real opera. I’m dreaming of the quintuple concept album…

    Shane MacGowan could have been in as half-dead, but well-preserved in ethanol. He’d be the bunch’s badman, but in the end, when time is nigh, they could build a permanent road to the sublime with the tar from his lungs!

  2. avatar
    Fandorevich | 3 July 2007 at 7:23 am #

    the da capo was not my fault – –

  3. avatar
    Thelonious | 3 July 2007 at 7:23 am #

    thanks for continuing to publish your lovely blog.

  4. avatar
    Anonymous | 3 July 2007 at 7:49 am #

    Fact versus fiction, a faction with some friction.

  5. avatar
    Anonymous | 3 July 2007 at 7:51 am #

    He’s So Heavy.

  6. avatar
    paul lightfoot | 3 July 2007 at 7:53 am #

    Where’s Tolkien though? Flyin like an F18?

  7. avatar
    fantasticandy | 3 July 2007 at 8:01 am #

    ah, all this sliding through time,
    we’ve all been there.
    we all WANT to be there.
    a shared experience.
    luv,
    andy L.

  8. avatar
    Anonymous | 3 July 2007 at 8:54 am #

    an oversized black cat , turned up{as a kitten},in our garden,in the year i was born…my folks were blown away,when at the age of ,nearly 2…i announced that his name was “really and actually”Archibald”{i could have sworn,that he told me himself,that puss and i were inseparable…id whisper to him,as i patted his silky fur….”youre my big panthre” and hed start his v8 }….when he purred,it would tickle my insides..and send me off to another place and time…theres so much to say for connection and intuition,,,and no idea where it starts or stops…..love to you on this warm night in wend….xxxgenx

  9. avatar
    adrift | 3 July 2007 at 9:23 am #

    ah conscience. our (im)moral code. Deny or ignore at your peril. 🙂

    and fandorin is right – there’s definitely a rock-opera in here! “the pira-dical capt killer : the long dark enlightenment”

    really enjoying this one, and thinking about which age (if any) I’d go back to… hmmm.. let the idea fester a bit before decisions are made 🙂

    much joy and big ideas sprout reading your blog each day, sk. much love – jane xx

  10. avatar
    Anonymous | 3 July 2007 at 9:23 am #

    oooo……hmmmmm……..thinking……..

    kittykat

  11. avatar
    Anonymous | 3 July 2007 at 10:01 am #

    I’m 45.
    I wouldn’t go back to being 17 for anything.
    I’ve probably got a maximum of 30 years left.
    Why would I want to go back to 17 and have to face a further 57 or so years in this shithole?

  12. avatar
    Leelinau | 3 July 2007 at 10:05 am #

    dragonfly and petals

    everything is blue this
    quiet morning

    why are the best songs
    so short?

    fly
    pink moon
    wish you were here

    is that part of what
    makes them so good?

    &_&

  13. avatar
    Anonymous | 3 July 2007 at 10:08 am #

    p.s. nothing is ever simple!….most things worth having,take time,energy,and will……..Experience,and intuition,are the best scales to weigh your decisions on….much love,as always,genx xxx

  14. avatar
    Symon | 3 July 2007 at 12:14 pm #

    isn’t it scary that sometimes what we think we want the most…isn’t all that we thought it was.

    i like the kingston shops…nice little faux belgian beer pub there now ! Thanks for the adventure SK.

    Symon

    ps…like Melby Amanda said the other day…it’s my tag turn to enquire about when you’re coming back to your favouritist oz city..Melby missus you Steve.

  15. avatar
    Brian | 3 July 2007 at 12:16 pm #

    There’s a palpable longing for a chance to do it all again; I’m sure it’s touched all of us in the same way. This is a great idea, Steve.

  16. avatar
    Anonymous | 3 July 2007 at 12:23 pm #

    don’t move don’t move. composed of solid song, we get along…..

    r.

  17. avatar
    Anonymous | 3 July 2007 at 12:41 pm #

    steve

    I turned 39 today
    I put on my 2 Church tapes and couldn’t believe I remembered all the words to all the songs I had forgotten

    leanne

  18. avatar
    Anonymous | 3 July 2007 at 12:45 pm #

    ok. I just read a piece that someone sent me about the Sydney Writers festival, which quotes Andrew O’Hagans’ opening address. he said “Literature is the longest and purest memory of who we are. We do not read to pass the time but to inhabit time”.

    KittyKat

  19. avatar
    Anonymous | 3 July 2007 at 12:48 pm #

    ps…I love the title of today’s one nevets
    kk

  20. avatar
    veleska1970 | 3 July 2007 at 1:14 pm #

    ah, to be able to go back and do it over again. i flip-flop back and forth between wanting to and not wanting to~~my daughter makes me not want to. my set of circumstances would have been different, and i definitely would not have met her father and had her. and i wouldn’t be the same person, either.

    but it is definitely tempting, if given the opportunity…

    lotza love……

    oh, happy birthday, leanne!!

  21. avatar
    Anonymous | 3 July 2007 at 1:19 pm #

    Happy birthday Leanne.

  22. avatar
    Cee | 3 July 2007 at 2:30 pm #

    It’s like we’re in the middle of 1001 Arabian Nights, or should it be 1001 Australian Nights?

    Happy BDay Leanne.

    Cecilia
    xox

  23. avatar
    David N. Andrews MEd (Distinction) | 3 July 2007 at 3:11 pm #

    Hi Steve…

    I’m a long-term Church fan from the UK now, living in Finland. Nice to see you have one of these…

    All the best to you and the rest of the band.

    David

  24. avatar
    Brien Comerford | 3 July 2007 at 3:14 pm #

    An adroitly conceived time-travelling blog. I went back into time last night via listening to Earthed and Unearthed. The Earthed booklet lamented peaceful peoples being persecuted and displaced by violent ones. It also mentioned nature havens and wildlife species being destroyed and massacred. It is now 22 years later and the atrocities have exacerbated. Best of luck to Al Gore’s Global Warming-Climate Change concerts this upcoming weekend.

  25. avatar
    verdelay | 3 July 2007 at 4:45 pm #

    a little like the moment you realise you’re falling backwards.

    that moment stretched out on a rack of now.

    bravo.

  26. avatar
    CSTCoach | 3 July 2007 at 5:40 pm #

    Wow! That was sublime. I’ve read this 5x through already…

    ryan

  27. avatar
    JJ | 3 July 2007 at 6:42 pm #

    I know that voice of false intuition, and it seems that I recognize that hallway in dreams….this is fascinating work, Being – I read it through whilst being pulled into the scene by your powerful narrative and keen descriptions.

    This is reaching a most fascinating conclusion. Staying tuned for more TB.

  28. avatar
    davem | 3 July 2007 at 7:07 pm #

    Wonderful stuff today SK. Thank-you.
    Totally absorbing. The words were almost dancing on the screen..so vivid.
    Oh to be one of those 50 lucky souls at the Poetry Festival. Any chance of it being recorded?
    Love you more,

    davem
    x

  29. avatar
    Anonymous | 3 July 2007 at 7:25 pm #

    paint us an abstract dream orpheus!…poppyxo

  30. avatar
    knot | 3 July 2007 at 8:16 pm #

    friends
    some go on untended
    like old roses by gravestones
    others can drag you through the maw that is the gate to hell
    across rivers of forgetfulness
    pay for your dinner at a wolfgang puck restaurant
    and quicksilver be there

    thank you steve for this
    friendship of words you offer up

  31. avatar
    knot | 3 July 2007 at 8:30 pm #

    people
    y’all sleepy today

    [Ghost of Herakles to Odysseus:] ‘He,Eurystheus once sent me even here to Haides to fetch away the hound of Haides, for he thought no task could be more fearsome for me than that. But I brought the hound out of Haides’ house and up to earth, because Hermes helped me on my way, and gleaming-eyed Athene.” – Homer, Odyssey 11.623

  32. avatar
    kat | 3 July 2007 at 8:53 pm #

    time to get on lost highway

    great, killa’

  33. avatar
    syrinx | 3 July 2007 at 10:40 pm #

    mesmerized..

    @__@

  34. avatar
    mattdavison | 3 July 2007 at 11:01 pm #

    Big Thankyou’ SK.

    “Here in this age” real advice can appear in in heavenly writings.

    playing that scene right up on the screen……..

    MD

  35. avatar
    JUNIOR PAINKILLER | 4 July 2007 at 12:21 am #

    your true destiny is still waiting Steve, me one love…
    Lord Anu

  36. avatar
    Symon | 4 July 2007 at 12:35 am #

    Grind has just come on the cd player in the background….words cannot express just how seriously, seriously, seriously good that song is. It was magnificant to hear it played live at the Manchester Lane gig in Melby in March.You had me watching & listening in awe !

  37. avatar
    malcolm arkey | 4 July 2007 at 1:35 am #

    very good

  38. avatar
    Anonymous | 4 July 2007 at 2:17 am #

    Hi sk, so did that powdered face on the T-rex album really help create the sk we know today? I had a look&listen at T-rex on YouTube last night doing “Get It On” & “Hot Love”, I never realised what a poser MB was, but gee he was a sexy thing, I now know why you were attracted to him back then! I’d really love to hear an sk version of Get It On in this lifetime, hows about it?????
    Have a beautiful day.
    Love always,
    Amanda

    P.S. How could you resist Symons polite invitation to Melby sk, come on, what else can we say to get you down here?

  39. avatar
    eek | 4 July 2007 at 4:33 am #

    Ah yeah, those “buts” are such a bitch. Sigh.

  40. avatar
    Anonymous | 4 July 2007 at 5:17 am #

    well i tried to leave a little note last night but my computer was having a hissy fit…wouldn’t go back to 17…learned too many of life’s lessons the hard way and i’m more comfortable with myself now than i ever dreamed i could be at 17…intuition is refined by wisdom…
    -The Hellbound Heart

  41. avatar
    Anonymous | 4 July 2007 at 6:58 am #

    Killer tale, Killer,
    O slayer of mediocrity in all forms…

    I imagined the record cover Bolan morphing into the face of here-and-now Bolan, imploring Killer to rally his senses and return to lead his men…

    But you really outdid yourself with this vivid image:
    “Like a photo of a sandwich…”.

    Godspeed (you black emperor)

    c escherbach canada

  42. avatar
    Anonymous | 4 July 2007 at 7:24 am #

    theres a green tree frog…living in my garden…well?….thats my garden ! x

  43. avatar
    susannaheanes | 4 July 2007 at 2:36 pm #

    this just hit me right between the eyes… i’ve a work in progress with the same theme. and whom do we trust? which of the voices?

    thanks for the connection; we’ll never meet but still may be singing the same words in different media. it’s life-affirming, somehow, if nothing else.


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