posted on October 16, 2011 at 11:49 pm

yet he

a famous actor feted luxuriantly in approaching china evening

why you all know the fellow : handsome but brainless

in his world not far from here

a different plane

hes spitting shakespeare and gargling ibsen

a marvellous play then that was set in eden

eve was played by dorothy gale

adam by  tolkien walker

yes i had a cameo as a cherub with a flaming sward

there was no internet at the euphrates cafe

the outside had no truck with the inside

the inside meanwhile looked out and shuddered

like the roman empire it was fun while it lasted

but here comes babylon the temple sluts flouncing along

israel saturated with convictions

gog and magog begin to condense within the storm

in one life i was pilate  slyly  questioning the christ

in the next i was improvising against a set theme of burlesque mayhem

wars and crusades knights and witches

the pope whispered burn those heathens and hells maw yawned wide

we just accepted everything like fools even though it was our world

on the threshold of hypnagogia

at the beginning of synaesthesia

(my lines come to me as if from a fog)

in one world a poet ,in another a madman

in one lane speeding ,in another standing still

i embody nobody so much as yourselves

gentlemen all we proceed in good faith (with our derringers cocked !)

but at night we strip away our clothes to reveal the pale monsters we really are

i must have a talk to my agent …he’s such a lazy type ……

my name is misspelled on the billboards in great cities you see

i was rather under the impression i was someone else

an impossible task and a scam of cosmic disproportion

i appear in the underworld and i wont be short of female companions

orpheus and his liar

marc bolans skull white strat

he was a celtic bard but atahualpa blocked the flow with his snow

and dionysius drop by drop rotting his muse from under him

i play someones brother from the aftermath which is finally ready

in no uncertain terms a bleak indictment of something or whatever it was

i measure my cloth against the majestic garment sky which terra dons at dawn

in some ways its easier to be a poet than anything else i suppose

an actor has to remember his lines but poets have forgotten everything

they stand around fountains gazing at fucking butterflies while actors toil

yes we toil and painters sweat it out in their fume of oil and hues

and musicians who must travel around

they beat on their drum they whistle their flute

the sculptor beating with hammer the face from the rock

the dancer limping and spraining a joint

long lonelinesses of authors doomed to be alone with their book

the magician must first juggle and cause rabbits to vanish

but what does a poet do but mutter his stuff

or write it down somewhere tho nobody cares

no director of drama no martyr to art

an actor i play yet another actor

a poet i sing the ether and wind

the christ was right

this is a bad time

kali yuga all over the place

in ten thousand years we will have a good laugh

things have a way of working out like that

i have been sent here by a time in your past

hired to impersonate a singer for a hypothetical position

the offer expired in spades during lent

and borrowed too we must not forget those forgotten items

the artist formally known as the time being is no longer extant

certainly not as you would understand it

he will henceforth be addressed as the time being

no italics no sandals no doubts no admission

all operators are probably having a cup of tea right now

its 12 28 and its raining; please dont jam the switchboard

nothing else moves on the streets

only poets and actors persevere into this dismal night

the actor plays a poet and the poet describes the actor

there has been no death of ego

there has been no opening left closure

actors and poets both have their lines , dont they…?

the actor may stumble

the poet may fall

the universe does not quake nor does the humble lamb

their god does not ever stoop to cruelty on their creatures

men are men and nothing more but sometimes often something less

brutes and fiends and devils abound

the ratbag and rake

the cad and the bounder and blackguard

the delinquent on fire in vandalistic self immolation

actors are required to represent them in films i guess

and poets who obliquely pour scorn

careful with their adjectives around old money

because the power  goes to the machines head

and the voltage enclosed in one mites life could light up andromeda

and i act out the one part of myself

and it goes on and on

until it collides with Eventually
















23 Responses to “(stage announcements)”

  1. avatar
    Lara | 17 October 2011 at 12:00 am #

    Like this.

  2. avatar
    bc | 17 October 2011 at 12:12 am #

    we care

  3. avatar
    JW | 17 October 2011 at 12:36 am #

    Happy to witness the Return

  4. avatar
    Anonymous | 17 October 2011 at 3:04 am #

    ! and had not Peter made it to Toledo to know he was to return back, and then if you think about it, this same script would never have made it through the ages to all the wandering poets’ thoughts as they came; and then what comes next(?) intrigue and reflection appear, enter — a stage…: “if the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man as it is, infinite.” and thus, besides the rest of all the other artists’ talents assisted… a further thought jumps in: Jim et al perhaps would have been called by another name (something that probably wouldn’t have sounded as cool) I don’t know? — who knows? Encore!

  5. avatar
    BROKEN TOYS AND HEROS | 17 October 2011 at 3:52 am #

    and yet again another agent who cannot seem to get it right…One day it will all work out, not a bump or a hitch or a crack in the crevice. You will smile wide and announce to all “its about fucking time someone did something right”.

    A poets work is devicely decadent. To string together, attach and match, words that flash and flicker about. It is why there are so few when you enter a book store. “Dear sir, yes, where is the poetry department in your fine establishment?”. As he leads me pass book cases upon cases of hardcover creations…all treats angst thrown in a vampires world. I am brought to a corner, in the farthest aisle of this oversized book emporium. “Here ya go…”. I am to find just a scaterring of paperbacks and tall thin hardcovers. A tear wells I my eyes as I look over my shoulder at all the meaningless trite known as ‘fiction’ …and find myself alone amongst so very few poets who convinced someone of prestige that their book of ‘more than rhymes’ would sell sell sell.

    So many more poets are needed, with the uncertainty of the modern day. He or she has a bountiful harvest of subjects to describe. A poet, A liar, some say …one is the same. I say, “not nearly enough of one- and a world filled with the other”.

    Darrin K.

  6. avatar
    M E M | 17 October 2011 at 4:12 am #

    There are moments
    When one
    Can respond to such statements
    Ya that one was good
    A good one it is
    Ain’t we all a time being
    How could we tell
    The difference
    Just think of it man…
    And if it ain’t the most exciting thing
    You ever herd
    I ain’t got a clue what it is…
    Unified field.
    We are all one.
    Time and space is allusion.
    Feel that?
    Don’t it feel good?
    That mystical mysteria?
    It’s so hard to distinguish
    One feeling
    From the next…

  7. avatar
    Mark P | 17 October 2011 at 7:38 am #

    Killer, billboards AND stubs – – …just sayin’.

  8. avatar
    DavidP | 17 October 2011 at 9:18 am #

    kali yuga indeed
    but there still a beacon of light

  9. avatar
    Once | 17 October 2011 at 10:54 am #

    On another note – ya know what is funny? My stupid iPhone does a sonic “ring” when a new email comes in…since I am suscribed to this site, it rings when a new post is added.

    I don’t get too many emails, usually, so whenever it rings repeatedly, I go – Ah!~ Steve’s up!

    All is right with the world!!!

  10. avatar
    Once | 17 October 2011 at 11:02 am #

    LOVE –

    “in one life i was pilate slyly questioning the christ”

    LOVE –

    “and the voltage enclosed in one mites life could light up andromeda”

    OMG. There is no one better at this.

    LOVE – SK! Always.

    • avatar
      thetimebeing | 17 October 2011 at 11:32 am #

      love on you and keep eating the pineapples

      • avatar
        Once | 19 October 2011 at 10:01 am #

        F**kin’ hell, mate – I’d forgotten that thread…too funny! (But apparently true!) tee hee hee…

  11. avatar
    . | 17 October 2011 at 11:10 am #

    can we be so bold to just define ourselves
    as travelers ever-changing, life staging, rearranging
    our better and bitter parts, living in this heaven and hell
    on earth as we squirm and struggle to find some of the answers
    from all the world’s religions, or did we have a personal revelation
    manifesting one day in our mortal heads when it all made sense and we fell
    to the ground in astonishment with perfect clarify, the disappointment
    we must have told ourselves to realize that even in the bad, all’s well?
    the roads ahead are too long to measure, it’s still too soon to tell
    however, the light extends to many, here in the time being, the veil
    lifts before our eyes for brief moments when we’re taken back to infinity
    and all is perfectly pleasurable in our mind’s eye and all is swell

    • avatar
      thetimebeing | 17 October 2011 at 11:31 am #

      lovely stuff again

    • avatar
      BROKEN TOYS AND HEROS | 17 October 2011 at 8:23 pm #

      Now, you see my find sir or madame …I would easily purchase a collection of your works at any store. They would be not so hard to locate. Just a giant (.) right in the middle. I would have to hedge a bet that you collect or somehow capsulate all the fine poetry and observations you have written in any form, all your many years. If not, may I ask … why? You sure have a lot to offer to the reader, any reader for that fact. Let’s get. You in front of a publisher for the mere fact that you rightfully have so much to share. Yet you place yourself in anonymity. You truly must have an incredible reason …why?

      Darrin K.

      • avatar
        BROKEN TOYS AND HEROS | 17 October 2011 at 8:31 pm #

        Could it be, you are one of us…writing under a different moniker and Steve understands why you do not want to reveal anything about yourself, I do say…I have to admire that. But the difficulty in it all is, you truly have a gift…I hope you are sharing it outside these four electronic walls. Because if not, I guess I truly know of no answer besides ‘shyness’ as a reason why. Love (.) you daily contributions. Sometimes a gentle breeze, others a reality shake. Thanks for sharing.


    • avatar
      Anonymous | 18 October 2011 at 10:04 am #

      yeah… like tumbling down a hill filled with the fragrance of heather, rolling first upside then downside as you’re turning completely around, nowhere to look but up (and that’s only when you can), stretching your spine as far as it goes to stay limber as you fall (so nothing gets broke), stretching your toes too — god forbid you become ungulated and they turn into hooves(!)… but then, look, it’s a valley gorged with milk and honey at the bottom of the hill. its been there all along with eternity every night as we pray.

  12. avatar
    Wilfred Paradise | 17 October 2011 at 10:08 pm #

    you aren’t one of the pale monsters, but perhaps poet and madman, it is a lofty goal – so, you are no longer going by the name steve ?

    wilf paradise

  13. avatar
    Freddie | 17 October 2011 at 11:30 pm #

    I’m sorry Steven. You’re a great poet and as an actor I can imagine you playing almost any part. You have a handsome believable sort of face but I just can’t see you playing a “cherub with a flaming sward”. You’re gonna have to Youtube that one to make me a believer. :^)

    • avatar
      thetimebeing | 18 October 2011 at 12:10 am #

      cherubs as mentioned in this sense in the bible or cherubim were not the cheeky little things
      you maybe imagining freddie

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