posted on October 24, 2008 at 7:59 pm

kilbey peers into the mist
i painted a picture it sang me this song
oh everything is easy now
oh everything is nice
if only you do fix me good
i’ll really fetch a price
(remember…it was a painting singing)
(and dont be stupid)
there was something quite wrong with this
i needed freedom
i needed to let all things flow
and reach that place inside us
where everything verily doth come
source of light
sauce of dark thoughts
the jungle in my room has swallowed me whole
round milky sphere where i scry the angel of the future
little i-droppers filled with flew-ids
a load of coins n brushes n reeds n trees n rivers of paint
my room my room
i call out from the eastern marshes
a hundred miles from the door
an avalanche of postcards covers my tale
i swim through ancient verona with my piggy bank safely guaranteed
hey mum n dad thats me on the beach in london
thats me n oswald lee harvey skiing in dallas/st paul
dear me isnt that the outskirts of alexandria
and we stayed at the ithaca hilton n the thracian travel lodge
and we camped on the fields in flanders…fido digging for bones
and we rested in the long mornings out in hammarby
and the circus disappeared
we ate dinner on the porch with m krall
when no one knew our number
and no one knew our name…..
but i am still lost in this room
self portrait on the wall opens up his little mouth
no i dont need YOUR advice i say to him
spiders….daddy longlegs…bob in the distant corners
the ceiling is the sky
n the sky is the limit
n the limit is one person per ticket
so i’m afraid i cant guarantee you re-entry
cant you see me stumbling around here
my ego weighing me down as usual
muse: and contributing very little….
god kilbey where do you come up with all this rubbish
its not rubbish …its…..
anyway what
anyway what i mean is…
youre lost
i’m lost
we’re lost
we’re lost n unprepared to pay the cost
the room looms
my room has finally taken me down
pushing up the scree of gold paint chips
unopened packages n bits of string
little boxes of …tiny parts for something
stencils n pencils n flashing controls
the pastel dust settles
sometimes mimicking a navaho sand painting
the blinds open out into pale mornings
the lightest blue sky n ribs of white clouds
pine trees n palm trees no breeze
buildings catch the timid sun
white and gold light up
i shiver in my mansuit
i pause with my paws n my clause
williams radiotronics stuttering iacocca staccato
an astralnaut lost in my room
a cosmos unto itself
i am the drifter
i paddle up the dreams streams and reveries cul de sacks
i am the salmon deep in the cave
hiding from odin
my room with its mountains of guitar cases
my room with its million memories before me
my rented room
my minutes ticking out inexorably
my chilly room
silent room
early morning room
no sign of kathy or mr weird
no sign of terri or terry
walk through the early morning streets
“air blows cool hurryin’ on my way”
some imaginary life i lead
still in my room though
my foot on a box of books
dreaming it all up
living room
thoughts like veins crossing the surface
summer has stalled
we change our plans
re think it out
look a head
choose more
want more
get more
nick more
take away
get off
get on
get lost n forgotton
forget yourself?

21 Responses to “room”

  1. avatar
    Hellbound Heart | 24 October 2008 at 10:02 pm #

    for some reason i was really intrigued with the unopened packages and the bits of string and boxes of tiny parts for something….a miniscule time travelling device, perhaps, a machine for creating a worm hole in the time space continuum…
    love always….

  2. avatar
    CAPTAIN BEYOND | 24 October 2008 at 11:15 pm #

    i wish Mitch and Mary wood get lost…

  3. avatar
    ross b | 25 October 2008 at 12:06 am #

    ‘we’re lost
    we’re lost n unprepared to pay the cost’

    – most prescient, sir!

    One’s room can be a universe onto itself, brilliant post sk.
    Much respect rb.

  4. avatar
    princey | 25 October 2008 at 12:14 am #

    Don’t worry sk, most of us lead imaginary lives, it ain’t a bad thing really:)

    Have a lovely weekend in your room of memories, in the ocean, wherever you may be sk,
    love Amanda

  5. avatar
    tim | 25 October 2008 at 12:45 am #

    forget yourself is one of the best albums of the decade and upon first “dosage” of painkiller i find its a great deal better than coldyplay and most other stuff out there today
    painkillers sonic delights interspersed with pure pop rock treats will take several listens to obsorb, but i am sincerly diggin the sound, congratulations on the album and the artwork is splendid also.

    p.s. when you are lost, discoveries are made.

    have a great weekend killer.

  6. avatar
    Brien Comerford | 25 October 2008 at 12:48 am #

    As I read Sk’s always mesmerizing and evocative blogs I sudenly learn that another homicide has been committed in my all too violent Chicago. Minutes ago the mother and brother of TV and Movie fame star Jennifer Hudson have been shot to death.

    Vast parts of Chicago are hell on earth. The next President, Mr. Barack Obama of Chicago is a smart and inspiring man but he’s done little to condemn the murderous violence in Chicago.

    On a brighter note “Because if it’s not love, then its the bomb that will bring us together.”

    Steven Patrick Morrissey

    New Queen CD sucks with the exception of Brian May’s dexterous guitar riffs and tones.

    New Cure CD is very subpar.

  7. avatar
    Jasperina | 25 October 2008 at 1:15 am #

    My foot on a box of books…so the words begin there. They come all that way from your toes…no wonder by the time we find them on your blog they have journeyed…meandering throughout your whole being. Is that sometimes where all the magic begins…by simply resting your tippy toes on a paper mountain of words.I’ll have to try that one out for myself.

  8. avatar
    persephone2u | 25 October 2008 at 1:44 am #

    “hey mum n dad thats me on the beach in london”

    If only there were really beaches in London. I’m not looking forward to leaving California and heading back there next week. *sigh* And to think that I once thought it would be great to live in London, the land of lots of museums and history, but also home to a zillion CCTV cameras, speed cams, the worst traffic and tiniest roads in the history of humankind and land of cheerless, downtrodden people who grimace all the time. I think it’s time to sell up and buy elsewhere.

  9. avatar
    souqie | 25 October 2008 at 3:14 am #

    Randwick bells are ringing
    Must be Saturday

  10. avatar
    kat | 25 October 2008 at 5:31 am #

    i like the avalanche of postcards bit, sk. so detailed you are.

    thanks for vid, soquie, will check out.

    happy weekend fiends

  11. avatar
    CSTCoach | 25 October 2008 at 1:48 pm #

    i get where you’re coming from here. i live in my room as well, always have. there are vast worlds there.

  12. avatar
    sanfoin | 25 October 2008 at 7:28 pm #

    “its not rubbish …its…..”


    a window, a light,
    the exponential sight
    of tired tiara eyes

    a glimpse, a slight
    holographic report,
    a retort, a surmise…

  13. avatar
    kat | 26 October 2008 at 12:43 am #

    souqie! i misspelled yer name, ouch

  14. avatar
    lily was here | 26 October 2008 at 2:34 am #

    Dont we love our rooms! The place to escape to, keep secrets, hideaway, cry, dream, plan, create, imagine, remember, a place safe from prying eyes, except for those all-knowing pictures on the wall. And how lucky we are if we have one! I really liked that line too "an avalanche of postcards covers my tale" Imagined them whizzing around the room in all directions. What happens when you have to share & find your own personal space again? Guys convert their garages & sheds.. and women ??? We move around the house until we find a quiet peaceful spot to chill and hangout till that room's vacant again 🙂


    ps go Mark! Great to see him doing it with the best on Rockwiz, he had some mean competition there. Looked like he eased into really enjoying himself. And thanks souquie. Great to see the setting of the song.

  15. avatar
    Hellbound Heart | 26 October 2008 at 3:30 am #

    watched rockwiz last night….good on ya, mark!
    love always…

  16. avatar
    princey | 26 October 2008 at 9:04 am #

    Ok, u can come out of your room now where it’s safe and warm:)We miss u Killsy!

  17. avatar
    Hellbound Heart | 26 October 2008 at 10:16 am #

    killsy?? lol (giggle snuffle snort)

  18. avatar
    davem | 26 October 2008 at 11:36 am #

    How come you didn’t bosh the spiders and daddy longlegssssssss??

  19. avatar
    Brien Comerford | 26 October 2008 at 6:44 pm #

    Watched Ultimate fighting Saturday night and my friend brought over the new AC/DC CD. It’s good background music for violent sports. Later I played Painkiller and it sounded like Mozart compared to AC/DC. The latter appeals to our animal insticts while Painkiller is for the heart and soul. “Heart And Soul” was also a vintage Joy Division song.

  20. avatar
    Peter Podcast | 27 October 2008 at 10:42 am #

    If you are interested in seeing the Doco Rainman goes to RocKwiz it’s now up on the Sbs site.
    In the videos sidebar
    Hope it moves you.
    Russell K.

  21. avatar
    sergezéni | 8 November 2008 at 12:27 pm #

    Hellbound Heart,

    Sorry to disappoint, but “Birthday Girl” is dedicated to a friend who, thanks God, is still alive and well!
    To make sure in return, I tried to catch up your space and just discovered…. Well, just a shabby and masked attack from some empty shell, I guess. Too bad, mate: It would have been much more funnier to mention my name and the title of the song — that’s what real rock’n’roll’s about, no?
    Then, of course, my rage turned into pity towards you: Not only Hellbound Thang has an empty heart and an empty head… but the poor farting maggot has no balls either.
    For sure, the deadborn can hardly celebrate birthdays…!
    And the fact that someone as talented as Steve Kilbey tolerates such shit on his blog still eludes me completely…

Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment.