posted on August 21, 2011 at 11:51 pm

sono lui poiche siete me e siamo insieme tutti

the truth had come early for mr curtis jericho

earlier than the earliest worm he thought liquidly

nobody really knows who theyre fucking with

nobody really knows how far to the next knight

yeah i should have dotted my queues and crossed my eyes

i should have read the fine prince i should have listened to my fingers

idiots and philistines and oafs and buffoons

these are a few of my favourite nongs

you are what you eat

you eat dead meat

what are you?

harpies and hags and bimbos and bags so what?

my bass guitar doesnt weep it fucking sobs

my beard rocks more than all the hair in metaldom

my calves feed in the holy valley on the freshest sweetest honeys

my songs sung in the olden times by loki and by set

my words found in the ether that some alien forget

my sorrow that i cant explain but neither do regret

my arcane discoveries linking strangest points

my preposterous prophecies which all none true

i have studied things in more detail but always on a blurry slant

thats what wrong said curtis jericho in the middle of his rant

the women in my universe do not listen to the men

the men look at the women and they see a hen

they tried to change old jericho they tried to blow me down

a moon bitch with her stud dog in the boxers dressing gown

that girl in wales who married me in swansea in a trance

she vanished in a slight pause in the swooning wedding dance

the virgin slut of winter who fell right through the ice

she said the cold was rather soothing and it felt quite nice

that stupid one who fell apart by being so together

smoking whitest widow and sometime purple heather

i’d turned back into me again and said goodbye for ever

curtis my boy i said to myself

you look pale around the gills

your fins are bent and steer you wrong

here take your moody pills

a whole episode of your life goes by

a whole new chapter for a book you can never hack out

my story can never be told in words

i tell it in the songs that i sing

no jericho says a voice in a room

a room in a skull in a tomb in a rack

i ran all the way says a voice made of dust

heaven is full and theyre sending em back


go jericho says a voice in the east

the east of the sun and a beast in the sack

here is your candy here is your wine

here is three points but only one line

the devil of good

the evil divine

i  tempt you with crime then i give you the fine

i dont dream of a world where everythings right

i dream of a world full of lust every night

i dream of a world full of women and drugs

absent of days absent of thugs

absent of anything but pleasure in flesh

god i the spark that slips through the mesh

god i the wilderness as david doth kneel

god i the presence of clandestine feel

inside every moment inside every seed

inside every fix inside every feed

a superior lake madder than a hatter

my intelligence out there and picking up chatter

matter is blind my mind isnt matter

but mind over matter well that is a mother

the mother is farther away to the child

in sparta they left me to die in the wild

in athens i looked like a prick in my armour

in venus wings they say  i’d be quite the bird charmer

in atlantis my chambers my harem my beauties

what a shame to go down with all of them cuties

in fucking lemuria on my conjugal pontoon

that stretched out my pleasure through warm afternoon

as lovely sea creatures swam the lagoon

but holidays end and life is too soon

back to some january back to some june

back to some may may make you immune

yes said a scientist interpreting runes

the vikings were covering one of your tunes

thats impossible curtis said

how could that be?

i dont let the people sing them for free

you already been paid ! said the ham in the rolls

we collected your royalties from the mongols and poles

your czechs in the mail their kings of yore wore

a hole full of water…? well……youre a bore

and frankly dear jericho love is a whore

a crooked old hooker a right hook to the jaw

i could go on all night if perchance you dream more

no shut up i said ‘fore i saw through the floor

the accomplice is willing to tell what she saw

that night under paris on top of a moor

they took away everything and gave you what for

and just like this planet with its hot moulting core

and just like  reality i open a door

i go into a darkness the dead dread in awe

an orwellian vortex a kafkaesque purge

i exist in a place where love and hate merge

on your hardest shoulder

on your softest verge

with every whisper of eternity deleted

and every threat and all vows completed

with horses snorting and riders unseated

the lion fucking roared and the fucking lamb bleated

your flame is all frozen your arctic too heated

i hope i am there when your punishments meted

out in the deserts and voids you have fated

and all of the waiting and all of the waited

waiter he said my bread has been baited

just listen he said…so we all concentrated

but all that i heard was my birds sleeping breath

the seconds all ticking a way to my death

christ on the right side

satan the left

her asteroid moons and her treble cleft

her seasons of famine that left her bereft

her reasons for things  i could never detect

and so curtis said what will be just will be


i’m outta here

just dont  trust kilbey



the end

















18 Responses to “rhapsodies spasm”

  1. avatar
    Lara | 22 August 2011 at 12:17 am #

    Ah, Mr. K, you are my favorite fictional character. This one’s a tour de force.

  2. avatar
    BROKEN TOYS AND HEROS | 22 August 2011 at 12:29 am #

    ‘the virgin slut of winter who fell thru the iced’

    Holy Shit SK !!!

    This IS my favorite entire piece you’ve ever created !!!

    FUCKING BRILLIANT AND INSANE AT THE SAME TIME …is that even possible ??!!!


    • avatar
      BROKEN TOYS AND HEROS | 22 August 2011 at 1:58 am #

      The only reason I seem to get a front row on the ‘comments’ section of thee olds blogee is, I suffer from chronic insomnia and it could be 12-14 hours ahead of my Chicago time (in Bondi)..
      but odds are I am wide awake in front of my laptop. Hey, it (insomnia ) has its perks- I never miss a online super sale or auction…problem though is i’m so sleep deprived that I may forget what in the heck I just bought.

      Darrin K.

  3. avatar
    Boriah | 22 August 2011 at 3:28 am #

    This I disagree: “my beard rocks more than all the hair in metaldom”

    This I agree: “my songs sung in the olden times by loki and by set”

    The girls in Phoenicia gonna be so pleased to meet ya…

    Let´s go there then!!! Back to the ancient world and times…

    • avatar
      Lara | 22 August 2011 at 10:57 am #

      You’d need a beard. See: Charlemagne’s Mustache by Paul Dutton.

      • avatar
        Boriah | 22 August 2011 at 6:17 pm #

        You´d love my goatee Lara!

  4. avatar
    Once | 22 August 2011 at 5:28 am #


    Foreword by Noel:

    Hjuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup[;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;; qwwwwwwwwwwwwww2222333333333333333333333333.

    clever cat he is i’m sure it’s a code
    for adventures in purgatory
    saw this when i came in from my swim
    back to the womb floating and stretching
    there’s a reason that it feels familiar you know
    oh sure you say i was born of a human mother
    i might not remember but i’ve seen the charts
    really i say tell me of it then
    just as you might imagine it
    if indeed you can’t recall
    dark you begin with the muted thud of her heart
    the rumble of blood through her sainted veins
    metallic song, the liquid rush
    and the pop of an oxygen bubble
    silver screech of her intake of air
    growling wind of her exhalation
    i’m moving my hands, you say
    my bulbous head is keeping me anchored
    but I have shoulders so I can roll
    and look, I can see my feet
    and everything’s red
    red and liquid…
    stop, I say, are you imagining this?
    or is it a memory? how do you know?
    because, you say…because…?
    so go back then, I implore you
    and go backwards… out of that womb
    that warmth
    that safety
    that liquid love
    drawing away into what came before
    what do you see? concentrate!
    and I watch you go into it
    you rise disappear and are empty
    and from a distance
    I hear you scream

    well of course i have to go after you
    you’re drunk and disorderly
    but i love you the same
    as you’re the same as you always were
    and, if i may say so – as you will be
    but you don’t know this yet
    so I’ve got to bring you back
    i take a deep breath in my dream
    and force it out in a silent scream
    electricity explodes in my head and spreads
    i’m shaking at the speed of sound and hear nothing
    and then my dried foreign eyes open
    and there’s a different quality to the air
    and the colors shapes people blur
    all is ether and we’re somewhere else
    so where to first? I hop in a yellow firetruck
    with a girl named Annie, she’s been a girl
    but also a cat, so I trust her
    she’s happy to be free from the pain of rejection
    she’s cut her hair (or imagined it short)
    I hope she finds her new family
    she drives me through a tunnel of absolute nothing
    i mean whiteness all round, just her and the yellow
    and we get into what must be town
    purgatory town, that is, and it’s not like I’d imagined
    it opens, grey, and waits for you to think of it
    and then it shows you its life
    its self
    because its self is yourself and it cannot exist until you reach it
    we meet walter outside a pub, he’s a right geeze
    frankly rather Dickensian and this amuses me
    there’s beer here I say?
    why wouldn’t there be, he answers, this ain’t heaven
    so can I have one, I say, being me all over again
    sure he says but you won’t taste it
    really? I say that’s a shame why is that?
    he ignores me and pulls out a syringe
    fuckin’ hell I never got to try that walt!
    can we do it?
    sure he says but you’ll feel nothing
    really? i say that’s a shame why is that?
    he looks at me then and his face is shifting and liquid
    and I’m struggling to focus because I really want to know
    you don’t get it, do you? he says, not unkindly
    you’re in purgatory
    you’ve already passed these things
    but as long as you want them
    you can’t ever leave
    or feel anything
    ever again…

    (to be continued)

  5. avatar
    Once | 22 August 2011 at 6:15 am #


    what is this place, I wonder
    kicking sand and walking under
    a redwood lattice roof
    a pavilion of sorts
    with nothing on display
    until I pass a table of gypsies
    hawking their wares
    white smooth stones and watches
    i like this but decline
    i turn a corner and see a rearing white stallion
    which I dismiss as a purgatorial cliché
    until a norwegian woman beckons me over
    and says, are we all the same age here, then?
    it takes a second, but then I laugh hysterically
    oh, you get it, don’t you?
    no soul has an age
    and she’s taking the piss
    yeah – even in purgatory!
    i’d love to ride the horse
    but i have to look for you
    i’ve got to find you and
    i feel it more than know it
    so I jump on a ski lift
    no there’s no snow nor skiing
    just that seat on that wire
    and a strange old rocker who still wants to be relevant
    but who’s died and here he is now
    next to me
    stu, I think he said his name was
    but maybe I channeled that from The Stand
    we hold each other and I let him cry
    but give him nothing
    when I slide off the seat
    i see that he is horribly disfigured
    he will be in this place forever
    i approach a dock of sorts
    and then there’s the pirate ship
    captain smitty and a roller coaster ride
    down to the place called Clay
    (an industrial concrete project oddly run by Norwegians)
    where I meet jess
    who I love more that I can define love
    jesse, with her curly hair that’s red when she’s happy
    goes dark when I don’t think of her enough
    she’s got a pale complexion and freckles
    small but not delicate
    her voice isn’t a voice it’s a mood
    that kind of closeness is just like the womb
    and I want to stay with her forever
    but she watches me as I fade away
    i’m lifted, carried, rising above my town
    we were at a baseball game
    they had Stella in cans (with no taste no doubt)
    and I’m drawn up, over and out
    and then I am facing two people
    I do not know who they are
    they tell me this:
    when you die
    you go back
    into the body of a baby
    you remember nothing
    of the life that was
    and if you should
    you just might end up here again
    and then I see who they are
    they are you and me
    i grab your hand
    hold my breath and scream
    and wake up in my room
    with the old me and the new
    and absolutely no memory
    of what I thought was you.

    • avatar
      BROKEN TOYS AND HEROS | 22 August 2011 at 10:29 am #

      Wow Donna, great writing !!!

  6. avatar
    Jonny Hollywood | 22 August 2011 at 7:13 am #

    you loading up on rhymes jogged my mind, that was a cool rythmic vibe 🙂

  7. avatar
    Cocoamo | 22 August 2011 at 8:34 am #

    Wowser. You are on a roll and in good form here. Between puns and double meanings you do the Bard proud.

    Your life perhaps could never be told in words, but we wish you’d try. An autobiography would be amazing, but how would it end? Maybe there could be alternate endings, one for each universe you’ve traversed?

    Tank ooo.

    Your Friend in Pennsylvania

  8. avatar
    Cocoamo | 22 August 2011 at 8:35 am #

    P.S. – And when they made the movie from your autobiography, who would play you?

  9. avatar
    That Girl | 22 August 2011 at 10:57 am #

    Oh My !!!!

  10. avatar
    miss amused | 22 August 2011 at 12:40 pm #


    Don’t EVER take drugs!


  11. avatar
    Anonymous | 22 August 2011 at 4:27 pm #

    but then this time as Jericho was falling they all got up to hear the music (it was calling) with a boogie in the rhythm of the beat and through the halls you could hear them swaying as they were hanging plastered to the ceilings “up against the wall!” was being hollered and this really seemed a lot of bother to all the people because now instead they didn’t get to move their feet, so to keep it all from caving into Jericho like the battle of an epic movie scene – left on until the channel froze in snow, they said yes, we understand your honor it can be put back together just that sometimes things seem farther than you’d ever hope to know. with that the magistrate agreed to let them free and though some may think to disagree, a twist explains why his ruling had them back up on their feet so quick to leave == after prints and mugs were taken (say cheese!) before you all step back in time tomorrow needs a new design so if you sir, Curtis is your name? yes, that’s who I am. well good, Curtis it will be… could you please go back and tell that Kilbey guy I’m doing well and hope he’s doing same and somewhere soon we’ll meet again in one of our two dreams but before we do could you ask him if he’d bring along that song? it’s my favorite and sometimes I catch myself listening hard to hear but it’s so far away to interfere as it’s bouncing off the moon, it would be nice to have him play for me. of course, Curtis replied, I’ll let him know before I go, and thank you once again. Herod nodded back before he left for Jericho 2000 years ago

  12. avatar
    foolonthehill | 22 August 2011 at 7:59 pm #

    booj,g oog oog

  13. avatar
    hellbound heart | 23 August 2011 at 9:26 pm #

    holy crap……wow

  14. avatar
    captain mission | 25 August 2011 at 1:14 am #

    wows the word!

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