posted on December 4, 2008 at 7:54 pm

there must be a tiny black line around each leaf
without this things will blur
velvet black as night
jet black as coal
the early morning rain is gentle
it alights softly upon my face like tiny cold kisses
wakes me up from my dreams
the gardens are verdant
the flowers glow in unlikely colours
birds contentedly twitter
planes up in the clouds continue to distantly roar
imagine the people sitting in the plane
they get told their breakfast options
they leave sydney far behind
they exit a story
they leave the stage
i dont want this quiet mossy morning to end
i dont want the angry boiling day breathing down my neck
with its wagging tongues and its honking horns
i want to hide in this morning
muted as it is
with no hard edges
so n so says blah blah blah
someone else got such n such
yeah really oh thats too good or bad
heres my card
credit me debit me call me stall me
peter or paul me
blow me down with a feather
my back aches
my ears ring
my eyes fade
my mind is closed for nightwork
my hand is dealt
my children awake
my my my
the palm outside my window feels the breeze with green frondy fingers
i sit in my clutter drinking pitta tea
remember the doshas?
well i’m a fiery sort so i drink things to pacify the fire
burning n returning
how i wish i was going on some holiday today
over the rainbow or that general direction
troubles melt like lemon drops
away upon the chimney tops
did david neil sing that?
i give myself 15 minutes to finish this up
if i aint cracked it then i never will
minutes de evolve into seconds
n they just fly past
the world winds harder
life speeds up
dont you know
dont you know
one minute slips into the past forever
irretrievable and gone
then another then another
my fifteen becomes thirteen
my unlucky lucky number
13 men on a dead mans chest
yo ho ho n a bottle of rum
i hit twelve panicking up a door
12 dig n delve
i am the delver if nothing else
11 aint so bad as i thought
60 seconds of mild anxiety
i await for 10 philosophically
oh there it is
it was inevitable after all
dont waste it talkin’ about it
uh…cant stop thinkin’ bout 9
when it comes my finger blurs across my dirty i-book
9 for the lily white boys dressed all in green-o
or something
is it some kinda code
predicting the end of the world 2012
or just next weeks horse race
theres 8 right on time
dead on time
hung up on a deadline
8 is straight
8 is a lot more than…
i gotta soft spot for 7
it was nick wards lucky number
so i guess i shouldnt bet my sausage on it
7 by 7
7 times i cursed my 7 tears
and then 6
counting down seriously when you hit six
666 the numba of the beest
ooooh scary stuff ….i’m quaking aint you
555 my dad smoked cigs called 555
5 lucky to still be alive in this hive w/ my hand-jive
four four four
what for?
why ?
all i have is questions
but i’m too impatient to hang about for the answers
cos 3 is coming
3 is hear
3 minutes to express myself
3 lousy minutes
already down to 2 n a half
2 thats low
dont tell me 2 aint low
low boy
how low can you go boy
david neil did sing that
what a lovely song
n then just as i get happy
i realise i have 1 minute
1 minute 60 seconds
i’m paralysed in indecision
i think of poor david neil
his jet falling outta the sky
the needle still in his arm
the bullet still in his chest
waiting for velvet black/jet bl……

(sound of engaged dialtone ringing on forever)

17 Responses to “velvet black / jet black”

  1. avatar
    isolde | 4 December 2008 at 9:16 pm #

    the number you are calling is not available
    please leave a message

  2. avatar
    EDD | 4 December 2008 at 9:40 pm #

    555…The triple nickle

  3. avatar
    ticktockclarice | 4 December 2008 at 9:53 pm #

    Ok, that was rather spooky. Am having a mild panic attack now, i hate being reminded about the 2012 deadline, is getting too damn close. Bloody Mayans, why couldn’t they have put fluffy kittens or Greek landscapes on their calenders like everyone else? But then again, can see why poor long-suffering Mother Earth will want to shake off all the tongue-wagging, horn-honking, crediting, debiting, goose-plucking, tree-murdering hordes by then. I can barely set foot outside this time of year, the rampant consumerism is disgusting. How many trees are cut down needlessly to make this endless stream of fucking catalogues i keep getting? It’s NOT SUSTAINABLE PEOPLE! But we keep shopping merrily to our doom. I’m no better really. Keep threatening year after year that i’m gonna make a donation to Oxfam for the kids instead of pressies and take ’em to help out in a soup kitchen or something but i never do. I have noble hippie aspirations that i never quite live up to. The hypocritical hippie!
    But on a lighter note:
    “the early morning rain is gentle,
    it alights softly upon my face like tiny cold kisses”
    THAT is just too lovely for words. I love it when you do nature imagery. Aren’t you afraid that one day you’ll use up all your beautiful words like Samantha in Sex and the City used up all her orgasms??

  4. avatar
    princey | 4 December 2008 at 10:59 pm #

    I’m glad u sound a wee bit happier this morning sk. (well the first 15lines anyway!) When I read the title of blog, you reminded me that I have to dye my once called “velvet black/jet black” hair this morning….it’s the only sign of ageing that can be covered up without anyone noticing really. Who said you have to age gracefully, viva Garnier#4!! 🙂
    Enjoy yer day one and all,
    love Amanda

  5. avatar
    CAPTAIN BEYOND | 5 December 2008 at 3:19 am #

    you keep on mentioning david neil, i must google him write now, so another Xmas without my esskay, thanks for all the extra pain and suffering that goes along with giving you my book of love…

  6. avatar
    davem | 5 December 2008 at 9:18 am #

    A lovely start to the weekend. I love morning and it’s another beauty here. Cold, but with clear skies and a watery sun trying it’s hardest for us.
    Love to all.

  7. avatar
    davem | 5 December 2008 at 9:25 am #

    SK – did you read this comment about PK on the womb?

    “I think of Painkiller’s production to be like a cup of water. The songs are drops of oil-based paint, and are pipetted into the mix, and they swirl around, roughly occupying the centre, while the outlying provinces of the sonic field are edged in ambiguity. “

    Wonderful innit guv’nor?

  8. avatar
    bob calvert | 5 December 2008 at 10:03 am #

    The wind will take your frightened face and force your mouth to smile.

  9. avatar
    verdelay | 5 December 2008 at 1:52 pm #

    I’m not so sure we are all going to evaporate just because some people think the Mayans said so. Now, I’m no blinkered techno-optimist, but I’m generally none too keen on apocalyptic thinking. Prophecies and prognostications are a human (all too human) tendency, and I think just a touch egocentric for my liking. The whole 212012 movement is just monotheistic millenialism by another name and I caution all free thinkers to approach such ideas with the usual smiling caution and cheery skepticism.

    In the words of St. Martin of Dunedin:

    You’ve given in
    Oh, hold on
    Oh, no news
    No good news
    Oh, sweet times
    Well the world might end
    But at least it hasn’t
    No, at least it hasn’t


  10. avatar
    matthew | 5 December 2008 at 2:43 pm #

    eight! eight! i forget what eight was for…

  11. avatar
    Anonymous | 5 December 2008 at 3:18 pm #

    Hi…like reading your blog…can we hear more about your adventures…your stories make me laugh 🙂

  12. avatar
    grizzler | 5 December 2008 at 5:15 pm #

    The Mayans.
    They couldn’t predict the Aztecs.
    But they knew what’d happen in 2012.
    Astounding, really.

  13. avatar
    veleska1970 | 5 December 2008 at 7:28 pm #

    what a spooky ending. i always thought that a dialtone had a creepy sound to it. most unpleasant.

  14. avatar
    ScaughtFive | 5 December 2008 at 7:41 pm #

    Counting down like a surrealist advent calendar but it’s all Fred Neil over here, Killah.

  15. avatar
    jax | 5 December 2008 at 8:15 pm #

    so, supposely the story so far is.. David Neil was last spotted on a Swissair flight 555 headed to Luxemboug. A silver valise with the initials UTAH left at the boarding gate and pickup up by a blonde woman wearing a kayaffah.. the tapes were never found..

  16. avatar
    knot | 5 December 2008 at 9:11 pm #

    Better go down to your marrow-bones
    And scrub a kitchen pavement, or break stones
    Like an old pauper, in all kinds of weather;
    For to articulate sweet sounds together
    Is to work harder than all these.
    William Butler Yeats

    and so I thank you from my marrow bones.

  17. avatar
    Polydora | 7 December 2008 at 7:15 pm #

    “there must be a tiny black line around each leaf
    without this things will blur
    velvet black as night
    jet black as coal
    the early morning rain is gentle”

    These lines hang perfectly.

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