The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

im uninspired to write this blogge
ive got nothin’ to say
and no way of saying it
theres been some very bad personal news(not mine)
that has slowed rehearsals right down
we are rehearsing in industrial suburb now
in middle of nowhere
either noisy guitars or lotsa blokes sitting round
smoking cigarettes and watching football
(ANATHEMA)
people drinking beer (burp)
people eating pizzas (ditto)
cars drivin’ up deliverin’ n takin’ away amps n drums
i do yoga in an empty rehearsal room
with the thump thump thump
of some dismal heavy metal plodders
coming thru the wall
just what this world neeeds
some tattooed turkeys grindin’ out
another ‘orrible bleeding racquet
some geezer singin’ in a high pitched voice
about the devil (yawn)
millions of “musicians” all over this world
dreamin’ of the big time
spendin’ their hard earned dough
on rehearsals n guitar pedals n beers n pizzas
many are called
but
few are chosen
still you say
let em have their dreams
even if their dream is generating a loathesome row
in a rehearsal room in belmore
sure sure
dream on boys
what the hell would i know
im jus’ knockin’ out this uninspired blogge
and thats it
bye

goji juice and godspeed you black emperor
i smoke some dope im getting quite immune to
the doodles wake the bumper up
its early sunday morning here in the eestin subbubs of sindney
yesterday los chruchos diablos trawled thru hours of songs
looking for a perfect setlist
not a note played, not a drum struck
just sittin’ there listening with amazement, contempt, amusement
to all these songs
which ones to play?
no no
please its no good suggesting em
cant you see that?
the song selection process is strange n random
i myself find it hard to impose my field on it
who selects the selectors?
and who selected them?
anyway im still no closer to findin’ out
which songs the ensemble will tackle
i was very very pissed off with a naughty taxi driver however
who arrived to take me to the stude
which is a 45 buck cab ride away across town
this chinese-y dude turns up late in this “silver service” taxi
(i’m not gonna do his accent here but imagine it as rather heavy)
oh oh i must take cab back to base, i cant take you to ryde
i say
well let me out now druid
he say
no no i take you to city
find another taxi for you
if not i promise i take you all the way
i say yeah well i wouldnt mind
but i got this great big heavy bass with a busted case
and all this other malarkey..
he say
oh no no
i look after you sir ha ha ha
anyway i strapp on my i poddy
but mr cabby keeps interrupting my reverie
with assurances of how he gonna look after me
but then again he say
the weather very nice its very busy…
already floating a possible loophole…
anyway we bypass the cross city tunnel
he interrupts my listnin’ pleasure again
to tell me how the tunnel is a waste of time
he say
much better to go thru city!!
3 50 cost too much!!
yeah maybe you save about 15 minutes…..
so we drive thru a crowded kings cross
with all its bullshit
and eventually hit ye olde city
full of traffique n pedestrianos
he keeps promisin’ me
i find cab for you at town hall
its his mantra
i find cab for you at town hall
but guess what…?
uh huh no cabs at town hall
you see everyday at 3 all the cabs change drivers
which means that at 3 oclock in sydney
finding vacant cabs is like finding hens teeth
or the tears of a hanged man
thats why i dont wanna get out
cos im lugging all this stuff
and i’ll be stranded in a crowded city
with a loada heavy junk
one more turkey searchin’ helplessly for a cab
he say i turn meter off now till i find you cab
then we drive round n round the city for 15 minutes
till we finally find another cab
he looks at meter n says just give me 30
i say druid, it was 20 bux when you said you was gonna turn it off
i coulda shoulda been there by now
you drove me round n round the city
which i wanted to bypass altogether
you costin me twice as much n takin twice as long
i give him a fifty dollar note
the little bugger gives me 20 back!
i say listen what the fuck..
he jumps out
sprints with my bass in its busted case to other cab
i m fuming as i sit in the new cab
he bends down to window
see see he take you all the way now
hes amazed that im not grateful
he shrugs n walks away
another happy customer….
so you see
didja realise that i’m a magnet for this kinda cockup
i had envisaged a smooth ride
wrapped in my headphones
oblivious to everything else
but what i got
was a loada argy bargy
and didnt listen to nuffink
i was too quietly miffed afterwards
turn up to rehearsal
already on the back foot
please no
get over its
im over it
its a done deal
anyway
this morning we gonna drive the chruchos hire car
to a nice harbour beach with a nice sharky net (with holes)
we gonna have foccacia for le brekko
soy blah blahs
the sand n the sea n the sky
swaying palms
spring mornings
parking traumas
etc
see ya later
unhappy rider of n bondi

both my father n his father died when they were 52
my grandfathers name was stephen kilbey
he lost an eye
he was a soldier
he died of pneu monia
my mother reckons it was tb
i only ever seen one picture of him
worried skinny dark haired man
a moustache
grey london buildings fading into a forgotten past
englands rain n grime and classes
you might as well had a caste system
my father never spoke of his father
sometimes when i was little
i ask my dad about his father
but he would drift off in thought
and it seemed it made him so sad
so i never really pursued it
i got the v in steven so people could call me steve
im sure my lost grandfather got called steve n stevie sometimes
i mean was steve invented in the 1950s?
anyway so you see 52 is a little barrier to get across for me

you probably wundering why another blog
comes so hot on the heels of the last
and that is cos today los groopos churchos
stumble into action
hit the ground running on empty
late and lost as usual
so i probably wont have time
cos i’ll be so busy waiting around
for the blah blah box to get plugged in right
so i’m sittin’ here earlyish
knocking out this now
well obviously i’m doing it NOW
i couldnt be doing it then
could i?
and i thought some of you
might be getting bored with that other stuff
and you going
cmon timebeing
how bout dem electrick geetars
well baybee
and this is just for you
those e guitars gonna be out in spades
cos today we start rehursing
in a secret location
in an ordinary leafy springtime avenue
space rock will be invoked
in a dark dank basement
concealed in rock and lead
lies a chambre of sound
lined in lincoln green carpet
and impressionist wallpaper
surrounded by all the very latest gadgets
there in secret
in hiding
the germs of cosmic rock
a chord here
a clatter there
the bass slides into tune
somethin going tic tic tic
eventually you keep going you got space rock
apply to your local govt for a generous free sample of space now
space is the place
space is safe for all ages
space is needed
space for the whole wide world
so you see
we are creating more space
and letting it go
thats all

i know you wont believe this
but then what then is belief in belief itself
and what is in the realms of the unimaginable?
i have been to other worlds
there
i knew you wouldnt believe me
i can feel your palpable doubts
coming thru the screen
everytime i dissolve into sleep
but no…
that is not the world that would surprise one
the world of sleep
where do we go?
im sure youve been to the hypnagogue
ive seen you praying at that altar in the soft dawn
music drifting across the lawns
the priestess at the hypnagogue is my sister
but none of this has anything to do
with whatever it was i meant to say
i have been to other worlds…
oh yes….that…
yes i have done that,
tho’ i dont blame those who dont believe it
the means can be found in many books
leaving this earth by bobby houdeen
or
john erskines astraltravelogue
if you want to try it for yourself
be careful tho
many are trapped elsewhere
disappearances are not uncommon
but travel must be approached with confidence
please this is no joke
hesitation can cause unpredictable effects
einstein sent a cruiser to another dimension
strange little beasties on the surface tension
you see
surrounding every thing alive
there is a field
and in the unified field
the creatures feed
each according
to its need
when you can impinge your field upon other fields
this can be called magic
try this simple test
tonight as you fall asleep try to remain conscious
impossible you say
but no wait here for me
oh yes let your heavy body slumber
but let the mind remain alert and nimble
let your spirit be sharp
and then when youre asleep
there you will find me
and then i will lead you
elsewhere
you must remain awake AND asleep
this must be mastered
or the experiment will not succeeed
you may feeel an oscillation
a feeling of lifting off
wait for me
do not proceed beyond this phase
if anything were to attack you
visualise vishnu in your heart chakra
and defend yourself with all you have
dont listen to the voices tempting and promising
you can only trust my voice
repeating your name in the mist a’head
your desire must be sincere
to sustain any injuries you may sustain
damage can be subtle
revealing itself over eons
mayhem can ensue
torture atrocities unhuman cruelties
i have seen an energy there
there is no name for these things
you see them from a distance
transparent things are hard to find
this is where youll need your faith
or a handful of lucidcalms
if your quack will still prescribe them….
theres definitely some bad things out here
its like the ocean
theres always sharks
whether you interest them or not…
thats a different thing of course
if you got a hankering for the astral sea
if you want to leave this heaviness behind
if you desire everything
if you can face ghastly horror and pure bliss
then stay
stay awake as you fall asleep
i’ll be waiting in the last place youd think
i’ll be flying
i’ll be just there at all
look hard with more than your eyes
i’m not a charlatan
youll need to propel yourself thru the planes of memory
thats it
up here
the surface
the real surface
you emerge into sudden light
as if a new morning had broken apart
and all the music was liberated
songs as yet unwritten
steal them as your own
where do you think i get my words?
overwhelming rays of tranquility
another vast body of water to traverse
voyaging for what seems like years
we come to another shore
here are things un-named and un-namable
i will fain risk punishment for revealing anymore
everyones watching
everyones listening
im not imagining it!
am i?
i’m certainly not mad!
am i?
hello
hello?
its 7 31 right now
im going out for a while
i may be sometimebeing

automatic blog
spirits confide in me
what shall i pass on from the otherside
the line goes silent
the camera fails
these spirits move in electricity
the lights flicker
these spirits have not yet passed over
gamblers n addicts tryin’ for just another hit
richmen who could not bear to leave their fortunes
spirits that animate sleeping children
and twist their features into grimace n snarl
spirits that hide things
spirits that chuck things around
spirirts disembodied
ammonia n coldness
hungry ghosts some say
the cats wake up
everything trembling oh so slightly
if you film em they blur into shadow
they are hard to capture
to record their hissing voices
and they follow you around
but you dont know what they want
do you?
there is no wind but everything flutters
the do not disturb signs clatter brittle against the door
the magnets reverse polarities
things run backwards
mirrors throw out reflections into the room
nightfriends coming thru the mirrors
come and go by mirror
the swans in the dark arch their black necks
the frogs are silent
in the water more reflections
reflections of reflections
patterns in the sand at the bottom of a pool
just keep following that black line
just a swimmer growing dimmer
in the glimmer of a summer
the sea gives up its ghosts
sailors and shipwrecks
women who turn into seals
dark cold green water
the ocean makes itself understood
all the rivers rushing into it
i heard a song once
“why did we ever leave the sea?”
churning ocean still ocean
grey ocean blue ocean
never yourself
but always the same
still life in motion
it has its patterns that are hard to perceive
yes it conceals leviathans and midgard serpents
other monsters in the depths we have hardly conceived of
yet our children bathe so happily in in her foamy arms
afternoon drifts in a little colder
sky hazes over to white again
feeble sunshine blotted out
the spirits reawaken you from your reverie
its time

1 for the lily white boys dressed all in green-o
2 for mysterious fields behind the iron fence
3 for the the dumb throb of love
4 for the four of diamonds representing aureolae
5 for lazarus fresh from the tomb
6 for the lucky pricks fell down from heaven
7 for the minotaur that bullheaded freak down ancient greek
8 for the eigth avatar
9 for the 9 of hearts representing resilience n chastity
10 for the decalogue baybee rememember thou shalt not kill
11 for the jack of hearts who in some games is boss
12 for the twelve times i saw you times twelve
13 for me because i was unlucky even at the start
14 is not my lucky number
15 for a 5 g bag
16 for a year in summer deep upon my zeebra
17 for instance a magic number another heaven
18 for alcohol
19 for drugs
20 for the many nights now gone
21 for the adult network
22 for the things i shot
23 skiddoo oh 23 pops up everywhere
24 for all the hours god sends some wings
25 id kick it it in the head when i was 25 pot jive
26 for the queen of spades who costs all the hearts
27 for the sleepy days i slept aways
28 for the cycle to continue may it ever
29 for the moonchild and its ascendancy
30 for never trusting anyone over
31 a number that is 13 backwards therefore=anathema
32 for the good doctor dee and his scrying out loud
33 for jesus
34 for more more more!
35 oh ya still alive?
36 a serpent enters eden
37 for identical mirrors perfectly alike e + m
38 for darkness who aint my friend either
39 for lost in a black mine
40 for being hopeless and naughty
41 for the king of clubs and cabarets
42 for the 42 wounds of the matyrs
43 for everyone out there in ohio
44 for the crazy people who lived across the road
45 for 45 things ive forgotten
46 for the hell of it
47 for the nature which has no number
48 crash comes like a lightnin’ flash
49 for the hanged man and his tears
50 the magicians who own islands
51 the kings in check
52 the cards in deck
(plus joker)

what a carry on
the more ya think ya know
it means
the less you do
you think you got life sussed, mister?
have ya trapped god in yer test tubes yet?
and you know the age of all the rocks n stones?
and you got it all figured out
measurements
observations
empirical tests
comparisons
alchemy
dr john dee crystal gazing
a tiny angel spoke to him from the glassy ball
what is science?
what is magic?
oh and how we influence the end with the beginning
and the love that holds life in its hands
the weeds containing miraculous cures
the flower which brings slime
what do i know?
say it!
nothing nothing nothing
a tunesmith with 200, 000 miles on the clock
a little rust
a bit slow to start sometimes
here i am
receding into memory
these words already old
my synapses fire
my muse comes floating down
with her arcane words n her golden lyre
what?
you wanted poetry?
for your birthday, a little poem
wrapped up in the tenderest thoughts
sealed with a childs chaste kiss
soft comforting words for you then
about children behind the north wind
and the wizard of boland
and doors in trees
and subterranean caverns full of wee folk
and red spotted mushrooms in green fields
n english woods with humming moss
n in ireland where tir na nog is waiting for ya
behind a thin slither of reality
where no one ever gets old or dies
and wish trees full of golden apples n silver pears
and toy soldiers riding giant fish thru the briny waves
and merfolk singing in the distance on warm evenings
and the chapel of sacred mirrors
and the creatures who hide in darknesses in nurseries
and a day in the garden up in hertfordshire
bees languid drone, yellow jonquils
lunchtimes spent at home in bed when you were a bit sick
the dance of the dust in your bedroom
the school bell softly tolling in the distance
those old books that were brought from england
the gnomes n the elves
the talking animals
the forests n glades with the sentient trees
and marc bolan sittin’ in a field with his les paul
sustaining an everlasting E
while the pixies bop in the hedges
the rhinemaidens n the dwarves
all fairy dust encrusted
cobwebs n pearly dew drops
sing a song of sixpence indexed to inflation, baybee
apollo strings his bow
atlas drugged
ariel the elemental sprite
longing for freedom from its human master
its all coming together somehow
its all ok in here
i’ll make some sense of it later
im underwater now
and its deep
and marine
sk

nostalgia, fiends
aint it a bitch
those long gone australian summers
those times i sat in the mist in a park in balmain
with grant maclennan writing the words for the frosties
those yesterdays kisses n tears
all that water under the bridge
petty ambitions
petty obstructions
all my songs are coming true
full circle
can ya dig that sweet past
reforming itself inside your memory
coiled up and ready to fall out
those hazy super 8 days
so long ago
so far away
where are we now?
we’ve fallen asleep on the train again
oh we must have slept for hours and hours…
and now we’ve woken up here…..
getting closer to my final destination
inch x inch
second x second
stop this train !
i want to get off!
5 years ago today
i wassa sittin in this apt in delaware
when the lady next door knocks on door
n says somethin’ on tv ya might like to be seein’
yeah i aint goin’ into any of that ,dont worry
except to say that things were a little tense everywhere
i remember eve n aurora werent even 2
the train rushes on and into the night
i aint afraid of my destination no more fiendss
i used to be..
it seems like an outrageous thing when yer young
but now
nice to take off this steve kilbey suit
have a rest before i pull some other one on
be someone else for a change
i’ll get a life
i’ll be same old same old but different
go through it all again
chuck out most of all the stuff i learned
its ok
everyone has to do it
is that what makes it almost bearable?
some friends tell me that ian rilen
a real rocknroll character here in sydney n melb
has terminal cancer n hes refused all the chemo n stuff
i dont know what to say..
i guess i can sorta understand ..
i know ian a bit
and hes the real rocknrollin’ thing in spades
hard livin’ hard lovin’ hard fightin’ hard drinkin’ rocker
he writes great songs too
a whole buncha classics he penned
still one hopes ian could be miraculously cured
we’re losin’ a lotta good guys recently..
ian was in a great band called sardine v
and we opened for em once
and they were so good
i wasnt even jealous
ian had a great big suit n a weird guitar
another time ian “accosted” me n grant mc
at the hopetoun pub in sydney
he was trying to lift grants hat up to see how much hair he had
and then he was trying to give me a big beery kiss
we fell over and were kinda strugglin around on the floor
of this gig
and people were saying jesus!
aint that steve kilbey n ian rilen lyin on the floor there ?!
its ok
me n ian are mates
he used ta live up the road from me in rozelle
and i used ta drop in at his little house on my way up the shops
wow ian
you manage to be classy and wild at the same time!
a sorta rough gentleman or something
anyway
christ!
i hope it dont happen ian
but if it does
i hope you slip like a silver drop
into a silver sea
sk 11 9 2006

sunday
bells ring
morningstar
windyday
pavements still wet
fronds of palms blown down
silence in suburbia
no creature stirs
birds still
violent clouds loom and threaten
8 52 is ushered in on a cushion of moments
celestial geometries drone
sticky tape loses its adhesion
pictures and memos droop
feet feel miles away
my tinnitus jams with the oophoi
festible of the winds is on says aurora
the festible of the winds i repeat
she nods yeah
baby meanwhile has turned into child
my green tea and m honey gets cold
i woke up this morning with this blog title in my head
“he who hesitates is lois”
i thought i could write something about supermen
and then i thought
seeing simon and garfucknuckle get mentioned here a bit
of a blog called
minnie, baby and sunday drivers
but that too, failed to materialise
palm trees moving delicate fingers against palest blue sky
a tender damaged blue sky
tentative and scared of the storm
my computer rests on top of my pastel box
im drowning in books n cds n bits of art junk
its an awful mess
it isnt bohemian or groovy
its just an awful mess
im cold
my extremities are freezing
another title i thought of was
bonnie prince charlatan
im certainly a title generator
need a title?
im your man
a title in itself im not entitled to
but otherwise
9 06 has been reached
pinch myself im still alive
we should be on by now
my world telescopes inward
come with me
im shrinking down inside myself
im falling down the rabbit hole
memories on the walls enframed
lazily reach for one as we glide past
its canberra 1964
we have just moved there
we are having venetian blinds fitted
the man fitting the blinds is welsh
he has a soft lilting tone
when he hears that we are new to canberra
he gives my mother some tips on taking the back streets
driving me to the swimming pool
“youll need to go up archibald
until you hit dryandra and then all the
way down until you come to froggart street…”
the way he said the names of the streets
and his sing song tone drives me into a trance
i want him to go on speaking forever
im starting to slide somewhere else
if you can see me there
its almost christmas
ive moved into this red brick house
in a city i never even been to before
we’re right on the edge of the bush
its hot
its dry
i dont know a soul
theres some kids in this street
but i dont really like the look of em that much
theres a park behind our house full of dry long yellow grass
theres a hawthorn tree in the back yard, which is very big
but full of rocks n stones n weeds n dirt
theres ants nests everywhere
my mum at this stage could only have been 36-37
shes standing there in her red mu mu skirt and her hair do
my brother a quiet blond mop of hair
wants to go to the pool too i suppose
the welsh man runs through the directions again
and me and mum follow his finger on the map
” you see
you need to take archibald up to dryandra…”
i wonder how this mans voice produced this effect
was he a magician
if hes still alive now
he would be very very old
i can still see him and hear him
later on that very hot day
mum kindly took me and my little brother to the pool
it was quite an adventure
dryandra street was long and windy
across the road was bush
the unknown
eventually we follow the instructions to canberras pool
my brother and mother go to baby pool
i feel lonely and exposed
another skinny freckly kid with no friends
at a crowded swimming pool in canberra australia
a voice in me says
hey youre not even australian
you should be in some groovy english glade
a real fish out of water
i couldnt even dive properly
i see a girl diving in and out like an otter
and it makes me feel even more sad
shes really pretty too
and has loads of friends
i swim over in their direction
but i feel unwelcome wherever i am
i climb up into the diving tower
but im too chicken to jump off the high one
in fact in all my time in canberra
i’ll never pluck up the courage to jump off that one
later on on the lawn
mr tambourine man comes on the radio
a lotta people lying round with the radio playing
theres only one station 2CA so no problem
mr tambourine man
oh the lyrics
oh the guitars
oh the strangely detached singer singing it
the voice who was complaining about australia
says
now heres something for you steven
something going on here that you could unravel
im sitting here in 1964 december
my mums got these amazing sun glasses on
russells splashing round in the baby pool like a pro
im sitting there getting sunburnt again
i feel fine by the beatles comes on
the first use of feedback they say
it sounded huge coming out of some crackly pa system
i was chewing on a peppermint and chocolate toffee
called a bobby
and eating licorice cigarettes

im so glad shes my little girl
shes so glad shes telling all the world

wow
it sounded like proust in 1964
leave me
sitting there on that crowded lawn
soon to pile into the austin A40
chug home
though it didnt feel like home yet
i was still thinking about tambourine man
and i feel fine
something there for you
the voice was saying
i was beginning to formulate my strategy
i was beginning to take notice
they were speaking a language
i could understand
and maybe
even better
i could be understood
myself

*this is the first in an occaisional installment
this is intended for humourous purposes
please do not sent in anonymice comments
about how “low-brow” i am
i am a philistine rocker with no pedigree
i know nothin bout nothin
this is but a fancy
an attempt to amuse you, sullen reader!
now just put yer list of spurious suggestions down
relax, smile a little
ah….there ya go…
you see its all just a joke….
ha ha
now imagine this
its a long long time ago
thousands of years in fact
ooh its warm…
oh its the aegean sea
this is the story of odysseus
in the sk vernacular
ok ok ok
anyhow
it was the greek mother in law of all wars
the war they had to have
ten thousand ships my children
are you listening up the back there in thessaly?
i wish somebody would tell me the score
greeks 1 trojans 0
but lets check the stats
over to esskaius
yes well
it aint lookin’ good for either side here
i mean we’re talkin the flower of the youth here druid
we’re talkin’ dead sons of gods n all kindsa stuff
achilles gone ajax gone vim gone hector same thing
paris, king fuckin priam, a whole bunch i dunno…
back to you…
so anyhow
the greeks have won
i mean they lost thousands of blokes
but they got miss helen back
i hope shes a real pretty lady
and whatta bout king menelaus
the dude she ran away from
when she eloped with mr handsome
he just takes her back like simpering fool
no “what the fuck! did you see all the trouble you caused?”
nope
within a week shes back in their pad in sparta
layin on feasts for their compadres
and servin’ up nepenthe
anyhow this brings us back to our hero
i see him kinda like well maybe a little freckly
maybe a little beard turnin a little white
medium build , grey eyes, fine brown hair
chiselled features, perfect straight nose
maybe a pair of gold earrrings…
(is this man beginning to materialise in yer imagination yet?)
hes kinda wise n kind n sexy all at once
a musical voice soft n deep
ooh dig his ithacan accent
the way he drawls his epsilons baybee
check his legs
bulging calves
he must swim a bit i guess
anyway
odysseus (for tis he!)
has finished his gig in troy
and needs to split for home
n his darlin little wifey penelope
(a real honey too, by all accounts)
n his little son
telemachus
(inventor of telemarketing)
but wouldnt ya know it!
its been a long ten years
ya just wanna get home n into yer own beddybyes
oh no no o
oh look out
youve forgotten to appease poseidon fer a start
now this poseidon god of the ocean
could hold his breath underwater fer ages
but
the cat held his grudges too
and he seriously intended to chuck a spanner in the worx
no
first of all hes blown all over the mediterranean
(oh lucky him)
he goes to the land of the cicones
i think they were madonnas ancestors
then next they turn up in the land of the lotus eaters
lotus elans, lotus europas, ha ha
no seriously folks
the lotus eaters land sounds like my kinda place
these cats jus’ sittin’ round eatin’ lotus
wow!
thats it?
but jesus
you get a habit real real fast
no wonder lotus is banned in anatolia n arcadia
but recently decriminalised in corinth
for possession of under half a drachmas worth
anyhoo
half the crew of o’s ship get the lotus jonesin’
jesus guys i told ya not to eat too much fuckin’ lotus..
next they hit this island where the inhabitants are giant one eyed monsters
now i could insert a few names in there
but our o called em cyclops
and one in particular called poly phemus
probably angry still cos he had a girls name
n all the other giants’d tease him by singin’
poly put the kettle on
or later they called him poly drug abuse
anyhow
o n his men end up in a sticky spot in a cave
n ole one eyes is back!
this dude takes meat eatin to a new disgustin’ level
hes eating o’s crew
meanwhile crafty o is thinkin
how dja like a poke in the fuckin eye with a burnt stick
cmon that giant had it coming people
but guess what
strings attached!
poly is poseidons own little toddler
raised by his proud dad ever since he was knee high to a hydra
by zeuses golden balls he rages
im gonna fix your little red wagon you little mortal s.o.b.
meanwhile while all this malarkeys goin’ on
back home things aint all that great neither
theres a whole buncha young hoodlums n neer do wells
hangin round tryin to crack on to penelope
a) cos shes a foxee laydee
b) then theyll get the queen n half the kingdom
but the real bad news
theyre treating young telemachus real badde
so he starts channelling the goddess athene
who digs the son as much as she dug the dad
and she starts appearing all over the place
(hey telemachus, you sure you aint been eatin’ that lotus again?)
anyhow teleboy guided by voices
sets off on a wild goose chase all over peloponnese
lookin for his daddyo

meanwhile back on some greek island
our o hassa made good friends with a draughty cat
called aeolus
talk about windy n wild
hes a wind god
a zephyr enthusiast too be sure
a real breezemaker
now he says to o
druid, altho yer just a mere mortal
i can dig where ya comin from
i understand that ya wanna get home
to ya wife n ya kid
so man
check out this little bag of stuff i have here
o looks at this baggie that a is profferin’
whats that….lotus..? he asks hopefully
nope dude, its wind!
o takes the bag o wind and almost blows himself
n the crew all the way home(!!??)
when a cuppla real turkeys amongst the crew
they start goin’
fuckin o, hes keepin all the good stuff for himself…
reckon hes got anymore of that lotus?
you betcha dude, its in his baggie…
anyway these vicious backstabbin faithless pricks
ruin it for everyone
jus when olde o call see his own palace roof coming into view
talk about lettin the cat out of the bag
these idiots unleashed a friggin’ hurricane!
and they get blown all over the place again(!!??)
they turn up at this chick circes island
(everyone had their own island in these days)
shes into some real weird voodoo shit
and she reckons all of o’s crew are pigs
and so it comes to be
but her magic dont work on o
but oh my my
shes smitten by our humble hero
by his piercing grey eyes
n his subtle turn of phrase n ithican accent
“where you from ?she asks…samos?
nope guess
i dunno um argos…? no i didnt think so…marathon?
anyhow
she takes him to her chamber
she drops her clothes
o singin’ she IS a witch but i like the way she twitch uh huh
she lays on the bed and says
get it on!
bang a gong
get it on!
he says lady if ya wanna be my lover
you better turn my pigs back into homeboys
she says druid its a done deal!
anyway after a while
in the afterglow one night
circe says oh o my lovely lover
you should go down the underworld
see if any of them shades cant get ya home
thats enuff for o
hes straight down that river styx
hes down there where the sun dont never shine
hades baybee
ooh hot n nasty
ooh cold n empty
he meets his mother
he meets achilles n a few other of the old greek boy gang
coolin their heels in the gloomy doomy afterlife
how fuckin depressing!
i mean after all that…
this is the afterlife…?
anyway
he splits this morbid scene
he checks out the song of the sirens
hey didnt jeffs dad write that?
ooh fiendss talk about motown harmonies
ooh those sirens
luvverly voices they had n what lyrics
but o’s men aint listnin’
theyre more concerned with scylla n charybdis
more nasty monsters tryin to make a meal of our boys
narrow escapes n close shaves r us
o makes it
only to land on a real nice island
called thrinacia
azure seas, white sands, the lot
trouble is the sun-god owns this piece of surreal estate
and hes a vegetarian
and hes got these cattle
and he gets real real miffed when the homeboys eat his beefs
despite o’s warnings
“what part of dont eat the sun gods cows dontcha understand?”
and o’s last ship is destroyed in a storm
o’s gone totally solo now
n he washes up on this lil place called ogygia
and lucky olde o
this island is the home of a nymph calypso
and she aint called a nymph for nuffin’ either
a demi goddess, an absolute gorgeous bit of crumpet
she n o immediately hit it off
and in no time o’s livin some cushy life
being waited on hand n foot by elemental slaves
hes like giving this demi goddess a good seeing to
day n night
when one day he takes out his lyre n writes this song
shapeless thing in a wine dark sea
amphitrites currents bring my love home to me..
gee what a lovely voice he has..
so soothing n even
a little husky
and oh what lovely words
been sittin here calypso nearly seven long years…
ya see
even tho calypsos are divine bit of grumble
olde os’s still thinkin of the missus penny
but calypso dont wanna let her loverboy go
whats she got that i aint got? she asks o
i dunno
he says
but shes got the wherewithal n sweet knowledge
that makes it wonderful
i should get goin’
but miss c cant let her handsome beau go
so eventually athene
who
it has to be said
has always fancied o a bit herself
goes streakin’ up to mount olympus trip
and gets in her daddys ear
who jus’ happens to be mr cloud gatherer himself
the big Z
she goes
blah blah blah odyssseus
blah blah odysseus this n that
Z says ok enuff enuff
send the boy home then
and then Z calls out
hey hermes
tell that fuckin calypso to let that the guy go, ok
hermes straps on his flying sandals n hat
he bookin’ it flatchat to that tropical isle
he says game over lady c
that druid now homewood bound
after a few more cockups
o finally gets home
he chucks on a disguise
see how things are on the home front
he catches the hoods n blackguards n dawgs
hangin round his wife
sexually harassin’ her n the maids
eatin’ his muesli n drinkin his soy milk
o loses it
he goes bananas
n him n the boy endup wasting the lot of em
cuttin em up into little bits
ooh revenge is sweet but it sure is messy too
thats about it
o has a shower
we hope hes been careful when he was with circe or calypso
he makes sweet love to his wifey
his sonny boy is v happy
peace n prosperity return to ithaca
its been a hell of a twenty years
fade in soft greek bouzoukis
bring up lights
goodnight ancient grease