posted on January 24, 2015 at 9:07 pm
gimme yer hands

gimme yer hands

my friends we have lived through this night over and over

aftershave and winebars

a thousand cigarettes later

you sitting down on a beach talking to some girls

when they ask you your name

you cannot remember

the evening has overwhelmed you hip and unexpected

the whorl of time unravelling slow as it does

squashed into a booth its hard to read the menu

alone under the creaming stars its vertiginous suddenly lurching

people scream over the din

at the idiot inside me who nods and grins

and agrees with their multi chewed off sins

i guffaw and i shout waving money about

somewhere outside myself someone hovers watching

the streets crawling with cars black silver white

i exit through a door in the wall

we walk along through streets of memory

laughing out loud at nothing in particular

we walk through the shadows cast by towers and sphinxes

the bridge in your gardens bright with pantheon decorations

learning to embrace south east asia

i accepted these monsoons and these buddhas as my own…

in the warehouse downtown

they are watching yachts racing in emerald seas

i long to be free of these old days and their films

i sit under coloured lanterns drinking saki in the village precinct

i drive my sleek car to fantastic parties

degenerating into sordid glamourous orgies

i pull out my triple golden cards i am gained admittance to pleasurable nights

with bankless banking i summon money from the static into my pocket

i give arms to the poor who are rich in memory and in hope

in a backroom over a deal i feel real lucky i’m a singer

as someone counts out the fifties shifty eyes fall upon me

but i come with my words they have all heard

it calms them to hear the sweet music in the air

over a coffee by the ocean i over hear them plot a crime

they invite me to write the music for their knavery

life is surreal when youre a surrealist

hey its saturday night what do i care?

i let myself be driven on long seaside boulevards

in the back where i sat indulged in the view

the salty air flew past us healing and wholesome

a strike of empathy

as a plane in the sky sounds like stravinsky

there are get-togethers up and down my street

booze fuelled merriment and dissent

paddy wagons cruise laneways and alleys

in a lift we go up to a suite in the skyline

they jump out offering you the fucking moon if you want it

soon youre relaxing by a pond in a faux forest

curvaceous dakini like beings sit and chat to you

in charming accents soft and demur

can we just check your nsw driving licence ? they say

can you tell us the expiry date on your visa?

dishevelled you stumble out of the elevators

disoriented in the oriental bent of the cherry blossoms on clark street

you wander into a seven eleven and order a rissi frutti

the queue softens a little as you bid your adieu to your few friends

you can see the glittering coast at the end of the road

casinos and motels and white haciendas with metallic shutters

the drugs are kicking in all over sydney right now

as an empath to the stuff i am drowned in somebody elses rush

like it or not my heartbeat increases in the rushes own hush

i reach for a light in the dark

our hands touch for a moment

but then youre in another room

gossipping loudly with the indian major and the lady from greece

i could hear their stupid laughter after all the noise ceased

on the balcony with a cocktail with a funny name like total control

it had 8 white spirits rolled in the punch bowl

the sea fog rolls in drawn upon by the expiring heat of the day

saturday night rapidly eroded as sunday morning wilfully extrudes

in the mirror on the deck i am looking at the ruin of my face

the city in the distance one way

and out to sea a few odd lights

the air is so delicious you are drunk on your third breath

the night promises forever as it hurtles to its midnight

3 hours only remaining in your game that you play with someone elses name

in the park by the boardwalk we stopped and talked above the rain

i turned and said goodbye it was quicker than having to lie again

you stood there as if for good there

in the coolness of the sand

the sea begins to understand the land

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

13 Responses to “saturday night and the sea again”

  1. avatar
    Chris | 24 January 2015 at 9:50 pm #

    epic psychedelic evocative

  2. etta
    etta | 24 January 2015 at 10:19 pm #

    Lets go to Punchbowl for curvee nonalcoholic dankiris!

  3. avatar
    Mitchell Laney | 24 January 2015 at 10:36 pm #

    Your best yet 😉 by the way Triffid was fantastic i was waiting for when you’d be invited there

  4. avatar
    Cath | 24 January 2015 at 10:41 pm #

    Nice, impressionable reality, fantasy shelling itself….the sea begins…..

  5. avatar
    andy | 24 January 2015 at 11:03 pm #

    Ohhh….like this one lots.

  6. avatar
    always@meetsdeadlines | 25 January 2015 at 8:56 am #

    Life as a surrealist until that one and only time – you’ll see the precious image fleetingly. Foresee your future years in a quiet awake dream. Clarity. Like it or not, it is what will be.

    • avatar
      Anonymous | 25 January 2015 at 3:47 pm #

      & what will be?

      • avatar
        always@meetsdeadlines | 26 January 2015 at 4:01 am #

        When it happens for you, you won’t mistake it. You just need to not tell yourself it isn’t so. Clarity.

      • avatar
        Anonymous | 26 January 2015 at 8:21 pm #

        Oh. Your talking of a moment.
        I was thinking more along the lines of the inevitable

  7. avatar
    Brian | 25 January 2015 at 2:17 pm #

    “the poor who are rich in memory and in hope” — great phrase!

  8. avatar
    Bernadette Keys | 25 January 2015 at 5:03 pm #

    Love this one somehow hooks you in for the ride….I could see it all unfolding. very cool.

  9. avatar
    markh511 | 25 January 2015 at 6:08 pm #

    Finished ready your book – really enjoyed it. You seem such a complex person – I always thought you would be the popular kid at school – not the one being bullied like myself.

  10. avatar
    Cocoamo | 26 January 2015 at 9:40 am #

    Sir Surrealist!
    This one full of golden drops of genius
    Carry on…carry on.

    Your Friend in Pennsylvania
    (Now in Cocoa Beach)


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