posted on December 14, 2010 at 7:08 pm

childhoods end

the coast

the drive

the sea

the sky

i hurtle along the highway

i stop under some shady tree

stand at the lookout

i climb up the hill

i buy more coffee

i pull over to have a rest

a motel in the darkness

nestle among treetops

night reverses into morning

big parrots in a tiny cage

beyond the trees a graveyard

beyond the graveyard the sea

beyond the sea is some other country

and beyond that some other earth

i miss the turn and i got lost

awareness undulates with reality

nothing is fixed

i am revealed to be many

the many are revealed to be i

but who who are you dear reader

because you make me always write these words

the coast is yellow sand and green sea

there is a market on the rocks

yes yes buy these very good quality says a lady

i buy some cheap socks 2 dollar a pair

or a dollar each i guess

the sun comes out the clouds blow up

the highway leads away

the dappled light of an afternoon already gone

remember this i said to the reader

remember this i say again

as time rushes pass the car and the afternoon of dappled light

sunday makes me sad

going back to school tomorrow feeling i can never shake

its all over feeling

its gonna be a long long time feeling

the day fled into the wings

the wings flapped somewhere over the rainbow

the rainbow appeared in the black whole that blue

the traffic increased

the signs became more frequent

everything changed

back to normal

stranger still

23 Responses to “the coast”

  1. avatar
    esne snoner | 14 December 2010 at 7:30 pm #

    yes lovely sk – sounds like you been on a nostalgia-inducing trip of late hence the absence from ye olde blogge – gotta say – whoa – 2011 is gonna be the year of the church

    not 1 nor 2 but 3 friggin albums live in entirety in 1 night – i had to read that several times to make sure i got that right – then wonder of wonders the band live in the opera house with an orchestra proving that dreams do come true – it shall be sublime

    seems someone has figured it out – blitz every other band in the world with performances they can only dream about

    now when will we be reading about the anthology (part 1)

    love your work

  2. avatar
    Richard | 14 December 2010 at 7:45 pm #

    you’re right about the painting

  3. avatar
    captain mission | 14 December 2010 at 8:00 pm #

    hey killer, i’m so luckey to have caught two shows, the notes one and lizottes, loved the way you threw ‘skyscraper carnivore’ in there. what a fantastic trip man, thank you so very very much. you men are in such fine form, your voice is the best i have heard and you make it appear so effortless….can’t wait to see the opera house preformance.
    yeah well i guess i should let you know, there is no ‘normal’ they pulled a fast one on us at skool with all that normal stuff.

  4. avatar
    DavidP | 14 December 2010 at 8:43 pm #

    suddenly I snap to
    I’m here
    I can see, what am I seeing?
    I can hear, what is that I hear?
    I’ve snapped out of the daydream
    stepped into a new headspace
    or rather a too infrequently attained perspective
    I feel myself in the moment
    seeing my exact place in the multiverse
    some bottom rung on Jacob’s ladder
    but I can see it, blindfold removed and I feel lifted, lighter
    then a thought comes and its gone, the clouds roll over blotting out the sun
    gone for an hour, a day maybe, could be a week even
    undulating awareness, in and out of sleep
    where is there a continuity of purpose?
    I’m a million different people from one day to the next?
    what does it mean when I say the word I? who exactly is that?
    a series of temporary thoughts and feelings, a cinema of the mind?
    suddenly I snap to, ah I remember this, where did I go
    again to see a universe in a grain of sand, & eternity in an hour
    alert to novelty which is all around like to a visitor in a strange land

  5. avatar
    . | 14 December 2010 at 10:34 pm #

    as for me, I’m nothing
    like a stray leaf falling
    bits of color screaming to hang on
    as the long, cold winter approaches
    less than an atom composed of the highest
    marooned here to wander…amazement, bewilderment
    this strange place we live in, ironic, predicament
    can’t shake it, can’t get over it
    random feelings give way to impressions
    thoughts to keyboard, write in succession
    what benefit they offer is your own discretion
    the time being lost in a moment, drifting, confession…

  6. avatar
    eekie | 14 December 2010 at 10:53 pm #

    “back to normal
    stranger still”

    Love the ambiguity of this.

    “but who who are you dear reader”

    I’m your worst nightmare.

  7. avatar
    Freddie | 14 December 2010 at 11:54 pm #

    If you’re contemplating running away in that,
    you’ll need something to pull it with. ;^)

    “but who who are you dear reader
    because you make me always write these words”

    I don’t know;
    so I see a little bit of myself in some things you say here
    and some things others say there
    so I keep coming back and reading
    but I still don’t know who I am nor who you are.
    So just keep writing please. :^)

  8. avatar
    Mike Hutch | 15 December 2010 at 12:05 am #

    That had me thinking of something that came to me a while ago, which I’m sure has entered many peoples heads over the eons…. that as you travel in one direction and pass someone going in the other way….you have seen his future and he yours…you know what he will encounter a few k’s up the road… a dead animal in the middle of the road …. a fallen tree blocking the highway….so, what the future is to one man, is the past for another.

    Gotta be a song there somewhere!!

    Hope you and the others are surviving the tour!

  9. avatar
    Lara | 15 December 2010 at 12:11 am #

    This reader appreciates the favor.

  10. avatar
    Cedgie | 15 December 2010 at 12:45 am #

    I bought one of those old bondwood caravans for a few hundred bucks when I was a carefree young lass. I spent many a fun summer with my besties at the beach in that lil’ wooden egg! Glad to hear you stop & rest on your travels & take time to checkout the lookouts!

  11. avatar
    BROKEN TOYS AND HEROS | 15 December 2010 at 12:49 am #

    I went to a very large High School here in Chicago, over 5500 lost…pimplefaced adolescents (Lane Tech, Class of 1984). And I have had a reoccurring dream ever since I left that hell hole : I am lost in the massive hallways and stairwells, searching for my next class and the bells ring…ring…ring…and when I do find the class, I have nothing in my hands and all the other students are faceless and buried in text books and papers spilling out from everywhere, A voice breaks the silence and says: “Nice of you to join us…forever…Mr. Kelly…” Than the bells ring again and the faceless students push me out the door and all go in every other direction and time speeds up. I find myself outside this enormous school…trying to get back in and the bells start to ring…ring…ring…again.

    That dream always sucks and I feel like shit when I wake from it.

    Darrin K.

    Sunday evenings always make me feel sad…

    • avatar
      Lara | 15 December 2010 at 8:34 am #

      If it’s any consolation, most teachers have similar nightmares. I often dream that I’ve forgotten to show up to class I’m supposed to be teaching. One of my more realistic nightmares.

  12. avatar
    Anonymous | 15 December 2010 at 1:54 am #

    You know, you remember everything as the cars pass and all those moments when the sun hits you as you drive you do too… they’ll come back sometime and you know they will at those moments as you’re passing… you just don’t know when it is they’ll be recalled… that’s fun though; knowing a moment will come back again when you need it – like when in class, watching the clock during last period… those last five minutes seem forever and then you think of the cars as they passed and the light of the sky and the sand between your toes and the sea with its breeze become again — what are forever instead of that horribly slow clock up on the wall above the chalkboard

  13. avatar
    Cecilia | 15 December 2010 at 2:16 am #

    How many people do you think I am?

  14. avatar
    neptune | 15 December 2010 at 3:56 am #

    it’s the tiniest thing, a bag of small tiny oranges on the produce aisle, a rose that blooms in the winter cold, a lone redbird seeking breakfast – yet a young puppy cries from loneliness. He wants to be loved, and he is – but he just doesn’t know he is being conditioned. An unanswered poem, pulled from the depths; A un-returned phone call, a cuppa hot tea and a big lonely empty space. Waiting … for what?

    I guess a long, long time would be appreciated, and I would be honored to call you ‘my friend’.

  15. avatar
    nic | 15 December 2010 at 10:14 am #

    beautiful reflections again SK as always ….
    I SO get the Sunday sadness …I have always felt the Sunday night dread since a little girl and it still lingers ….
    take care and thank you again for a memorable evening last Wednesday night … am still smiling ….

  16. avatar
    Narelle | 15 December 2010 at 11:47 am #

    A beautiful, eloquent poem about ‘the coast’ Steve.

    My ealiest memories don’t recall ‘hurtling along’. The Clyde Mountain narrow and steep. Getting stuck behind a truck on the way home…eternal…but we had more patience then.

    Can I share a story? A group of friends, plus dog, heading to ‘the coast’ in a Kombi van. We stop on the outskirts of Braidwood and share a smoke. We resume the journey east…….until, someone realises we forgot the dog. A quick U-turn, we head back to rescue our trusty and happy friend waiting patiently by the side of the road. How dopey were we!!!

  17. avatar
    JigSaw | 15 December 2010 at 1:48 pm #

    and not to forget, cya in Adelaide tomorrow night young dude!!
    man, a weird shudder reminiscing over 30 years of church…fark…1982 and my discovery of the church doesn’t seem so long ago…time surely flies…

  18. avatar
    Karen | 15 December 2010 at 4:38 pm #

    yeah .. dear reader’
    all drawn to sk’s blog like moths to a flame..
    I hated school, I waa a skinny dorky teenager..still fairly skinnky

    Ive got that just before school holidays feeling though, holidays for 4 weeks from tomorrow :d going to the “coast” sunday…sigh

    thats a cute litte caravan I lived in one for 3 months like that at wee jasper (nsw) with my ex when I was 16 in 1980….this blog makes me all nostalgic ..

  19. avatar
    sarah | 16 December 2010 at 11:21 am #

    Atman awareness. me too. very nice.

    what a deliciously sad all over kind of poem. i could read this ten times…

  20. avatar
    hellbound heart | 16 December 2010 at 8:06 pm #

    ah, that childhood feeling of anticipating weekends and holidays in the summer, feeling like the world was your oyster…..and the bleak feeling when it was all over, alas……you hit the nail on the head with that one, steve….

    love always…..

  21. avatar
    adamant | 17 December 2010 at 7:18 pm #

    that damn licorice rock. thanks for milton…fab.

  22. avatar
    redgrevillea | 20 December 2010 at 7:30 am #

    i love these road stories…reminds me of when I’m at my happiest, there’s great passion in this kind of travel, beautiful.

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