The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

erskine pushed his way thru the lamps and branches
it was a warm enchanted evening
and the stars promised action
the old year had ended
as years often do
and while the new one had not really began
he slipped into the margin
the penumbrae that exist in time
he explored a timeless feeling among the red n green lights
he didnt know anyone at the garden party
except of course
linda wong
the aging but still beautiful hostess and qi gong tycoon
who had taught him to pin men to the walls with his chi
who had shown him the silent place
who had stood on a mountaintop and flown
who had introduced him to opium
who had initiated him into animist pleasure
who had never held back from a happy ending
who now
even at her age
moved pantherlike amidst the cactii n shrubs
many of the guests were orientals
making erskine feel large pale n clumsy
they conversed rapidly in birdlike languages
the women twittering and singing
the men laughing musically
erskine knocked back his coca-buton
a liquor made from coca leaves
it was green n sweet
and it hit the spot
a small orkestra of gentle strings
the moons light diffused
and partially hidden behind pearl lined clouds
a perfumed garden indeed
the booze went to his head
a warm flush of blood
almost a slight passing sensation of dizziness
the booze spread outward
from a glowing glyph in his belly
to his cold extremities
new years eve
what was the new date again
1950 something
no that could not be right…
erskine bumped into a waiter
carrying a plate of small cakes
can i have one…?
the waiter smiles
go on go on
i choose a small berry thing
mmm nice says erskine
but theres a weird taste in there somewhere
erskine struggles to remember that taste
he looks up but the waiter has disappeared amongst the trees n guests
a shaft of silver moonlight illuminates the ornate ponds
vicious eels twist amongst the lilies and lotuses
peacocks drink at the edges
i sit on a bench and relax into the night
linda wong sits next me and takes my arm
having a good time?
i guess so..
having fun?
now linda, you know i dont believe in fun…
she paused in the darkness before saying
come with me into the house
without waiting for me to answer
she pulled me behind her
linda wong n erskine
before midnight
in the garden
the gazebos and statues of nymphs
the grapevines curling in trellises above them
a sweet mild breeze from the sea
white birds sat in the trees
her grip was strong on his arm
small manicured fingers
what is it linda?
where are we going?
you see! you see!
erskine followed her up the steps
inside a few waiters lingered in the kitchen
and a black cat…her familiar…slept alertly
in here in here she chirruped
pulling him down a hallway
then up a short flight of stairs
erskine could now look down at the party in the garden below
see the lanterns cheerful glow
hear the chatter
i could almost make out the words….
the woman lay in the deepening shadows of her room
she lit the pipe and lay there smoking
erskine just sat there in the darkness
the distant laughter of the party below them
that familiar smell
she handed him the pipe
it was like an elephant with a long long trunk
inside the elephants head a chunk of opium smouldered
erskine pulled down a few mouthfuls
can words take us into his dream?
a soft world
a cushioned existence
a plane of luxury
everything merging
the angles of the night
the womans soft voice whispering
do anything you like it says in my ear
anything? i say
anything you like….
the fans whirr on the ceiling
the black cat creeps into the room
the sea laps the shore
the sea takes the shore in its mouth
and the white waves turn red
the stars fall from the sky
as the old year dies
erskine redirects all his time
into her whole evening
let me watch he says
let me see
the calendar flaps in the breeze
years years years
the day waits at the door
a new day, shy and unsure
the party has ended
the waiters have gone
even the eels sleep dreamless in their ponds
it is now
erskine has dressed and stumbled away
its only me now
here
in the new year

oh my brothers n sisters of the blogge
its almost over
hold your breath till sunday night
maybe itll be alright
if you been reading
you’ll know its been a bad year
grant died
aunty irene died
my mothers brother uncle sid died
lena larsson an old friend from sweden
ian cooke 46 camping with his son..an old neighbour of mine
both twillies diagnosed syringomyelia
elli operated but who knows outcome exactly?
their mother diagnosed brain growth…..
one op down
one to go
ian rilen sydney superstar succumbs to the big c
but all things must pass
but you never get used to it when it does
still the question what happens when we die is unanswered
the most pressing n important matter of all
but we all go on living like we’re immortal
and putting off telling people we lovem n actualizing it
me included
getting all angry over a missed turn
being goaded n prodded to lose my temper
being grumpy n sour cos im stoned or tired
choosing to be on yer own when somebody needs ya
not visiting yer parents n family when ya gotta chance
getting miffed instead of getting into it
going off in huff instead of going with the flow
losing face n finding fault
chasing money youth fame power
avoiding poverty age infamy being humbled
still trying to fix things
rig things
control everything n everybody
getting bored real easy
not looking into peoples eyes
and never never never
being in the moment
right now
this one here
you see
its continuous
not frag-ment-ed
its one long song
but my mind is just up to its olde tricks
to keep the deep me
enthralled
but the deep me-being
is now letting ye olde mind n “personality” know
we will continue the revolution
however we can
and even if we cant stop the bad things
we gonna carry on with the good we can do from here
but oh mind…!
mind your mind if ya cant face yer face
mind your mind if ya cant race yer race
mind your mind
mind
time out of mind
why i gotta good mind to….
my stupid mind
can someone tell it to get out of the way
stop promising stuff
stop hanging around when its not needed
i mean my hands dont try n strangle me when theyre bored
they play the bass
they painting pictures
they type my blogge
they feel the chi
and then when i dont need em
they just lie or hang there
still n peaceful
but the mind….
its going all the time…
im swimming
my mind is going
think about the caravan
think about 4th form at lyneham high
think about ziggy stardust
think about mwps last e-mail
think about how bored you are
think about whether you can stop now
think about that argument you had
think about all the wicked lowdown nassty things you ever did
(boy theres a few laps there…)
think about that book youre sposed to write
think about sex
think about drugs
think about death
and all the time
the deep-me being
is trying to hush these voices
with force
or by subtleties
its trying to calm em down
not now not now it whispers amongst the clamour
fucking stupid mind
if it could shut down for 5 seconds
i would understand everything
but then i wouldnt need it
its a temporary system….
it doesnt wanna be replaced with the purest knowledge
it doesnt wanna be placated with deep calm n detachment
oh no
it wants to rev you up
it wants to get me going
and so too do people
the calmer i (try to) become
the moore they rev my engine
just to see if the olde me is still at home
(he is…under house arrest!)
but its my fault for letting them
this is my gnu yeers rezzolooshun
not to argue
not to argue
knot to r.gue
tim once said
theres 2 modes in the studio
argumentative or getting fucked over
meaning i guess
ya gotta fight fer what yer want
but if youre fighting…
havent you already lost the fight?
so i wanna be in the moment
not arguing some useless thing
using up my carefully cultivated chi chi gong
2006
the pleasure n the pain
what does it all mean now?
can i even really remember much at all?
rob dicko seems like hundred years ago
sitting in my kitchen 7 44
surrounded by an unseasonal mist..
think i’ll go swimming
think i’ll have a sauna n a real hot shower
and walk amongst my people
all them eurotrash tourists
the brazilian types
the jap tourists
(how thats racist idont know)
the yankee tourists with loud shirts n silent wives
the indians with their saris n castes
the local yokels rubbing their hands together
bondi is invaded by hordes of maurauding ninnies
getting sunburnt
eating breakfast
at the nauseating egg n bacon strip on campbell pde
getting parking tickets theyll never bother to pay
gettting dumped n thumped by surf that they have no clue about
dancing at dance parties and dropping E’s
walking up the road carrying slabs of beer
and babbling like babel in a million languages
german chinese nigerian
the outdoor cafes swell to overflowing
money rains down on bondi
everyday not just sunday now
everyday for about 3 weeks
then one day…
then one day
inexplicably
theyre all gone
vanished
and where the glamourous italians n sunburnt irish once were
is only seagulls n a few lazy surfers n an olde fisherman
thats life
thats the cycle
thats the planet
that is in all things
see ya tomorrow
sk

x

http://www.noise.net/vote_for_art.asp
ok fiendss
im flexing my electoral muscle here…
i been called in as a numbers man…
my good friend zoe mcdonell
needs you to click on this address
and vote for her
so she can win this competition
and the ole time being can bathe in the reflected glow
of her wonderful success
and i’ll be able to say
wow i knew someone who won 1st prize..
course..she probably wont talk to me after she wins it
winners are like that ive found
everyones a winner
everyone loves a winner
every child player must win a prize
and since im not supposed to grin
all we gotta do is win…
low after the winter
loser these vessels are full
drop between drop of moonshine
slipping on the surface of our day
ha!
they used to tell us at bully high
that it didnt matter if ya blah blah blah
it was the way you played the blah
but quite patently
they signalled the exact opposite
say what you like …winning counts
i won an aria award once
a long time ago
i didnt turn up n collect the useless thing
if you accept an award then you confer power
on whoevers giving it to you
“i accept this award from you who are entitled to give it”
in this case
the people giving the awards
are a collection of greasy aussie music biz leaches
ex-journalists n talentless parasites
i only accept awards from my peers
and i didnt see my fuckin peers givin any out…
i aint gonna legitimize this crooked music biz scam
perpetuated by useless biznessmen who cant play a note
big fat wineslurping self congratulatory bores
getting their ugly faces in the “trades”
with their latest identikit signing
no thanks boys
i laugh at yer fucking awards n halls of fame
you think youre gonna tame us artistes with a plastic trophy
“aw thanks i hereby give up my integrity
to shake hands with this steak n wine monster
and accept this pathetic token
which means nothing
and is worth zilch”
gee i believe im ranting again
awards night is anathema
AVOID AVOID AVOID!
how you ever gonna take me seriously
if you see me accepting something from a tuxedoed “straight”
“oh thank you to the wonderful music bizness
for this lovely statuette
designed n made in homebush
out of real plastic
now i dont mind that
i never receive my royalties
now i dont mind that youve thought
of many ingenious ways to withhold my money
and blind me with paragraphs n lawyers
and basically youre living it large
and all us fuckin minstrels are strugglin’…”
anyway
i guess im digressing
i do that all the time
being of my peculiar nature
so ok
i abhor awards myself
but this…
this aint an award or a reward
its a prize
and my friend deserves to win it
and goddamn it, commenters
fiendss
fanss
subscribers n patrons
i aint ever asked much of ya before…have i?
but im asking ya now
im coming to ya on my cyber hans n neese
im saying if you love liberty
if you love fairness
if you love a blue sky
and real artists with red artistic blood
and you love our fair country
and you love our waye of life
and fresh air n clean water
then i charge you…
nay
i command you
vote zoe
vote zoe
vote zoe
if she wins
if she can tip some less deserving artist out of number one…
some artists who doesnt even know …ME…(!?)
if she can achieve her destiny of winning this prize
this glittering prize off on a clear day
then i know
we can all sleep safe in our beds
that justice has been done
that youve played your part in changing this world
you stood up n said
bugger it!
im voting for young ms z
and there aint nothin’ the republicans can do about it!
fuck stalin n hitler n genghis khan…my votes for zoe m
how will you be able to face yerself
if some other less deserving artist wins this prize
how will you look yer grandkids in the eye
when they ask ya
grandpa or grandma…
why didnt zoe win?
make it happen fiendss
zoes future
my future
hell…
the whole future of art
could be in yer hands
yer trembling hands….
what are ya waiting for?
havent i convinced ya yet?
why are you still reading this…?
yes you
you there
reading this bit instead of voting…
havent you been listening..
dont you want to avert a natural catastrophe…
could zoe not winning this affect global warm-upping
is zoes current 2nd status the reason for increased mid-east tensions?
what kinda world am i leaving to my kidss?
will i be happy if i check into a hotel
and zoes weird fabric art isnt all over my room?
look this about more than just art
its about….
its about…
its about so much that…
im dwarfed and humbled to even…
look the implications are huge
will you yourself gain or profit from zoes win?
well…
ITS VERY VERY LIKELY!!
just yesterday a lady emailed me
she said i voted for zoe
and i turned around and there was the hope diamond
on my kitchen table…
another man wrote to me and said
ive always wanted to be a doctor
but my grades were lousy
yesterday however i voted for zoe mcdonell
and 1 minute later
the royal college of surgeons offered my a position
operating on peoples brains!!!!
good on yer zoe!!
you see fiendss
you never know till ya try it..
and yer gotta be in it for zoe to win it!
now come sunday
if a certain disappointed artist is knocking on my door
weeping n wailing n gnashing her teeth
saying oh killer oh killer
i did not win…
then just remember
i know some of your addresses
and im gonna send round the cherch roadies to visit
and they dont muck around
knock knock
whos there?
the cherches aussie roadcrew
why?
seems miss zoe lost…
and the killa reckons you should be “sorted out”
(sound of door being kicked in)
anyway
y’all know what to do..
do it for justice
do it for the environment
do it for posterity
AND
prosperity
do it now!
click on the linky
AND VOTE!!!!
sk

dream n drift
tomorrow doesnt matter
yesterday is a memory
i am not one thing
evolution is a lie
they have no idea
how many levels are there?
the futures slide back one after another
is this a poem?
shouldnt you stop trying to understand it
ok count my blessings
here goes
1 um…
2 what….
3 alright stop…
where are my blessings?
oh…..those blessings…
its just that…..
all those bad things that happened
i mean i aint no gentleman jim
and….
should i tell you about…
CHORUS OF WHISPERING VOICES : yes yes yes
well you see i oughtnt to have …
VOICES :go on go on
but ya see, i really wanted to…and…
VOICES : yes?
i never meant to…
VOICES : of course not
and im gonna try to….
VOICES :of course you will
the sound of the wind in lonely hills
a man trudging across a bleak landscape
the dull sun
the greenish sky
the man is old
his burden is great
the war ends here
the brambles are very sharp
crows circling slowly
mournful caw caw cawing
elegaic music please
an empty shell on a shore
a broken part
bottle tops n a bit of a net
a bridge over a murky creek
flame red leaves shuddering in reflection
snake glides thru water
hum of bee
rattle of wasps
i am not one thing
here and there
by and by
desolate faced woman
woe, man
woe betide me n you
woman tears make me laugh
what else is there but your grief?
mourning bewilders me
pain makes me hard
night brings out my worst
lovely nights when i wandered
here n there
by n by
the wires sing messages we’ll never hear
the air is full of signal
but can you pick it up?
dont give me your old 123
dont forget the flotsam n jetstars
the crouching under cover
hailstones as big as planets
yes life designed itself
and this is all your accident…
but some of it was on purpose
or were you too mean to give it a meaning?
god it is just the way you said it would be
give or take a few things…
lonely man
barren moors
windswept
numb
salt
grey
VOICES: what do see?
i see nothing but the haze
VOICES: ah
i feel droplets on my skin
ive entered a cloud
i am an atmospherean
i look down on my old house
VOICES : what do you see now?
i see a man sitting at a keyboard n screen
VOICES : he sees himself
is that really me?
typing typing
what am i writing about?
VOICES : time and the distance
why?
VOICES : somebody must
oh
well ok
i guess i gotta do my…..
i mean…
and the answers…?
VOICES : forthcoming
when?
VOICES : soon
soon soon
soon
soon
soon soon

soon
soon

soon

so on
so on
+
so
on

befour i go all poeticle on ya
a huge grovelling kissing the feet with cherries on top thank you
to all my loverly subscribers
my patrons-of-the-blogge
my readers
my true fiendss
my well-wishers
my flock of sea-girls
my far flung constituency
from snowy canada to snowy mel-bjorn
from the far-east to the eastern suburbs
dave m yer there every day.(look your own fullstop)
you love me moore moor?
damo in purth
ah…ambientboy in sanfran
garratt….nah he always gets a mention..
eekly..did a iridescent portrait of minna last nite
indigorooby…such a nice one
andromeda…i can picture you…all swirly you are
persephone…how many pomegranites this time?
wheres p.savant these days….on flextime?
the dean who i had the plezsha of meeting +mrs dean=verry nice
megan the vegan….a charming childe
imber who im sure is more limber than any of you
oh
of course
b bon
out with it
are you a man or a woman????
hmm i not so sure now
why did we presume you were a bloke?
ah..d + t
who are the alpha n omega of cherchdom
god who have i forgotten
johnny hollywould
(cmon killer…are you drawing a blank?)
everyday i read the comments
and i want to remember certain names
but i always come up with the usual crowd
leelinau
little stick doll…hello dolly!
{(“:?”)}..dear sweet lady …how art thou today?
samosanx who is sometimes a naughty kitty
(cmon killer…cmon)
uh….
theres at least 3 important names i have nevva mentioned..
but they read here every day
of course fandorin…who is a very demanding fiend
he likes it……but dont give him no second rate tripe
is he as demanding on himself one wonders…?
but merry humbmas steffo…you keep me honest…honestly
coming soon for you
slip slap slop…sks book of raising daughters
oh lord….those names…those names
all my richards…..
the man with many richards…
so many different names
me ..im stevie or steve
you can be rich
or you can be a ricky
or you can be a dick
its up to you really..
anyway
my brain just wrote to my mind
and it said
“re requested names from ye olde memory
we have thoroughly searched the files
and come up with nothing. the staff down here
in recent memories suggest a reduction
in combustibles” a. neuron
so im sorry
i bet i forgotten all my biggest subscribers too
the kaputnicks of ohio, de
who have given me their first born
to be raised as an apprentice being
he’ll be taught and he’ll be taut
but hardly ever torte
the successful candidate should have good peoples kills
and be able to procrastinate n vacillate and take
indeterminable teabrakes
an apprentice being will start out as a paisley dandy
and end up as a big-daddy bricklayer bloggin’ beachcomber
his wages will come in chunks or not at all
his future will be passed
his career will careen
his graph will be gruff
his bark will be better than his byte
blah blah blah
moving right along
got involved in a big traffic jam in sydney
ended up in a queue in sydneys poshiest suburbs
eventually we park in a paddock
nk says whats a paddock? is this a paddock?
its an australian meadow or field i guess
meadows too fuckin’ poetic for the aussies
we like to say paddock
eventualy we end up at designated picnic spot
us n 50 000 other people that is
well theres jlk n zoe the wunderkid
theres nanna joyce sitting on the only chair
a silver matriach who seems very wise n self contained
theres rusty n amy n kidss
my neice ms m is looking more n more glamourous
every time i see her
elli n minna running around
with all the impossible slenderness of youth
evie jumpin around with her hoola hoop
baby bumper waddling at hi speed
but oh no
aurora not feeling too good
hi temp
not eating
just lying there under a blanket
alternatively asking if
she can go for a swim
if not
can she go to the doctors…
we pack up our picnick eventually
when a girl next to us gets bitten by the nasty ant-like thing
the same thing thats mentioned in sealine
the minute the sting penetrates yer finger…
it got me n nk down here
when nk had first moved here
the pain is unbelievable
ive been stung n bitten by a few things
including a wasp in the mouth when i was trippin’
but this pain is EXCRUCIATING
the thing looks like an ant but has a stinger on its abdomen
its half red n half black n i only ever seen em at nielsens park
anyway this kid next to us starts screamin’ blue murder
i knew it was this nasty thing at once
poor kid
it throbs unrelentingly for hours
anyway
boxing day is now an empty box
is that art?
bon bon?
is that art?

presents opened safely
everyone fairly happy with their stash
not gonna bore ya with a long list of she got this
and she got that
after a while i go for a swim to bondi beach
its overcast n water is cold
there are big bouncer type guys checking yer bags to get on beach
what are you expecting i ask
sir we’re expecting you to have fun!
i catch some moderate waves
but theyre breaking close to the shore
a few people in but not many
afterwards i do chi gong
buy a green tea n walk back home
thru the silent christmassy suburb
so nice to cruise thru the soundless streets
suddenly things take on significance
a flower here or there
a piece of wood n its patterns
a cluster of weeds
old names in the concrete
matt loves neige
theres only one neige i know
and thats peter k’s daughter…hmmm…
i havent been feeling the best for a cuppla daze
despite the yoga n everything
kinda ever so slightly anxious
kinda achey
kinda tired
the sea has made me a bit better
i wunder if i been overdoing it lately?
just too much everything
i need a holidayfrom everything
oh the caravan down the south coast seems appealing
just ah me on my own
the luxuriating fields
the white noise of the surf
the birds in the flowering trees
no phone no computer
no people
what would my mind turn to….?
at lunchy time we drive up to visit joyce
whos at johns place
elli swears she sees kevin federline
(for some reason she pronounces it fedraline)
at a roof top party
so i scream out
hey fedraline! but no one looks up
elli says
oh exciting to think of a celebrity in bondi, daddy
i say
hes not a celebrity hes married to a celebrity
and i think
hey waita minnit…aint i a celebrity in bondi?
answer: nope
for xmas i finally getta copy of joycies book
(my mother has written a book called
the tale of the old iron pot
about her life
it only goes to 76 when my dad died)
wow its a nice book
pictures of my g.parents i aint ever seen
nice pictures of my dad
you can see at once my mum n dad are english
something about their smiles
my dads bad looking teeth
gee they were quite a glamourous cupple
i mean they had style….
so ive started reading it
a few ooh mum moments
a bit too much info sometimes
and i got really sad when her little puppy nell
got run over n she blamed herself
oh i felt that…….
i often wished i could go back in time
and change things for my mum n dad
they were pretty poor
and i think of the cold n damp of london
i been there sometimes n the only way
i could ever get warm
properly warm
was to have a hot bath
my parents childhood seemed so dickensian to me
all the kids in one bed n one bathwater
the book is an excellent read actually
looking forward to the bits about ME…
i think she wouldnt mind selling a few…..
i’ll keep ya informed
seems it out on karmic hit
so pester jlk for one!
we have a cuppa tea n some english style cakey
my mother tells elli to stop bossing minna around
i dont boss her around says elli
everyone at the table raises their eyes upwards
some even dare to make scoffing sounds
yes you do says says nanna joyce
you were ordering her about just now
minna really enjoys all this
looking about
sorta there…i told you so
elli takes it good naturedly and eventually gives up her chair
not minna who she was ordering to relinquish her seat
“elli is happy to be able to offer you minnas seat” i had said
and everyone had a good giggle
we come home and me n the 2 lotsa twins hit the beach again
the suns out by now n the beach is pretty packed
tho the cold water keeps most of the johnny come latelys out
i catch a cuppla waves and theyre too close to the shore
and i very very narrowly miss out on hurting my stupid self
its easy to hurt yer back if ya hit the sand awkwardly
its strange to stand in the sea
and all around i can hear bloody pommies complaining about
how cold the water is….
go back to bloody ramsgate then you complaining pommy gits
see how sodding warm it is there in decembah!
after a while the water felt warmer than the surrounding air
eventually elli gotta bitta of an ear ache
and we went n had a shower at the north end
e + m split for jlks place where they were having christmas dinner
i stayed with the doodles who played on the muscle building equipment
while i observed humanity
for the guy who says i diss gays:
the gay community was well represented on the beach
a lot of them had bathers with the legend “budgie smuggler” on the bum
and reindear antlers of red foam
say whatever ya like about the gay boys n men
but i tell ya my children
they got better bods than the heteros
ooh such well defined abs n pecs
(didnt see any calves as nice as mine tho)
ya see although im a red blooded hetro yob
i do appreciate the lines of a handsome male physique
and im often staring at the men on the beach
more than the ladies
just something about the aesthetic of male lines n planes
its always interested me
(or am i just checking out the competition)
sadly a lot of the daddies on the beach
have big white beer guts n skinny pale legs
guys only in their 30s who already look totally fucked!
standin’ at the edge of the water shivering n quaking
not daring to go in
go on mr biznesman
you need baptism in that marine nature
get your brut face n calvin klein underarms in that water!
jap tourists swarm everywhere
but they too seem afraid of the water
standing at its edge with their pants rolled up
and taking a million pictures
the italians have arrived too
kicking soccerballs around too close to the sunbathers
some of the reindear boys are being a little too amorous
do i have to really watch this on xmas day?
gee these guys must really be good friends……
oh doodles dont look..
what are they doing dad?
ah…i think theyre “wrestling”….
eventually me n tired doodles trudge wearily home
we have nks delishus leftover veg lasagne for tea
and we have one final walk around nine
aurora its cold bring yer jacket
no its ok im fine dad
no bring yer bloody jacket…its cold
its alright dad…im not cold
then five minutes into walk
big daddy who DID bring HIS jacket cos it WAS cold
has to take it off to give to aurora whos FREEZING HER ASSOFF!
bloody silly doodles!
come home
doodles n bumper eventually go to sleep
me n nk enjoy some champagne
by the lights of our christmas tree
today its boxing day
we’re having a picnic for all killerbeys in nielsen park
mum, russell n amy n kids
johnny n zoe
doodles twillies bumpers
etc
have a good one folks!
sk

i cant believe the kids arent awake yet
its that big kahuna of all days
when kids get loadsa stuff
they dont really know the reason
and who cares anyway
if yer pair-ants give ya 500 bucks werth of toys
yer not gonna hang round and ask why why why?
at least i knew the story of baby jesus….
i wasnt sure what that had to do with my new battery powered tank
but at least i could draw some tenuous connexion
i start to try to tell story at our chrismas eve (n aurora) dinner
i start tellin em about ole king herod
how he wansta kill all the boys to get the right one
elli interrupts
no daddy thats pharoah n moses
no elli this was jesus n herod
no daddy was pharaoh n moses in the bullrushes
bullrushes? bullshit!
im talkin bout fucking king herod
you know
salome
johhny the bapp-tist
the 3 wise guys
i start reading my gideons bible that i nicked from a hotel to em
after a couple of lo n beholds
and a few it came to pass
the kids have totally lost any interest in our saviour
seems that all the kerfuffle surrounding his “birthday”
has totally obscured whatever message he had for them
you mean im sposed to be interested in some dead guy
who may have been called something else
who wasnt actually born today
who may have never existed…?
cant we just play with yonder toyz?
santa claus
why santa?
shouldnt it be san claus as in san francisco
not santa as in santa maria
is santa are friggin tranny?
and all those elves……
are elves christian?
im confused…..
isnt everyone?
uh oh
the doodles are now up
creeping around with wide open eyes
trying to get all the sleepers interested
now theyre hanging round our “tree”
but our tree never been in no forest…..
its metl n paper
can we start our pressie giving before twillies get up….?
n twillies never get up before about 12
ooh clash of agendas
twillies reckon shoulda been last night for pressies anyway
the euro way
no but we have to do it first thing chrissie day
so kiddiwinks have broken or bored with all stuff by noon
its a rainy day here too
thats unaustralian…..bad whether at chrismis
whoever hoid of such a thing
ok im gonna go now
will be back later for xmas re-cap
santa killer

the crew at their stations
all hands on deck
the ship lurches n buckles
the night surrounds us with the stars
somethings come loose
and it bang bang bangs against us
as we shudderingly heave off
every rivet every last sprocket pushed into the metal
straining to hold it together
friction claws at us
its fingers sink into our skin
small fires break out along the fuselage
rapidly diminishing grey sphere
we pull away and out
backwards into nothing
the captain sleeps at the bridge
the motion of a dream guides her eyes
the arc of some light
the flash of an explosion way out there
the instruments detect and avoid
the engines white hot and singing now
re-attachment of memory
on the screen the radii move within 7 concentric circles
the navigator looks down at his hands
as they slide across the controls
a series of sudden jerks
port
starboard
port
starboard
some other dimension tries to claim us
its mouth opens
and our speed draws us in
the captain wakes up from her dream guidance
as we slide across 5 million years in a split second
zxzxzxzxzxzxzxz
the crackle of static
no one seems panicky as we fall softly thru time
some turbulence as the serrated edges of the wings open
atmospheric bursts intermittent buffering
everything shaking
the captains hair floats around her like a halo
her eyes are intent on the gauges
she winces as several indicators move into the red
the cabin becomes warmer
the navigator tears off his goggles and wipes away the sweat
in the nursery the pods fog over
the heliotropes wither suddenly
while the angelfruit blooms
upsidedown and insideout
i twist to avoid the motion
the cabin becomes hotter and hotter
my eyes and ears fill with sweat
then we smell the smoke
next minute water bursts from the roof
and an argument breaks out
keep it together the captain screams at me
but im too far away now
everything recedes
the navigator in slow motion
calculating his angles and his angels
the panels along the wall light up
a number of umbilicals have malfunctioned
the captain is talking to somebody out there
shes speaking in some other language
lightheadedness
abandon
something ahead
waiting for me
waiting waiting waiting
always waiting
waiting
slow down slowly
a motionless blip
approaching
forever

me n aurora
and cliff martinez solaris soundtrack
aurora looks tired
we were out late
having a walk around
she didnt get to bed until around 10 15
but shes up early
afraid that she’ll miss out on something
now heres a strange thing
when aurora n eve were three
they made up “the characters”
aurora became “booky girl”
who had a twin brother “booky boy”
eve was mussa magee
the names of the other “characters” were
teenan
chupa chinnick
leet
baversa
jackie boy
lumley mulligan
cottix
of course i joined in by being mr henderson
booky girls father
i pretended to carry a pipe
n i spoke like the major in fawlty towers
“I say…has anyone jollywell seen young booky girl?”
and i’d tap my imaginary pipe n cough n mutter
n carry on like an olde codger…
and strike me pink
if i dont come home this weekend with a pipe
its a prop for my part as peter in the play
and aurora keeps going n getting the pipe
dad…cant you be mr henderson
“why yes why oh hello booky girl
i ah expect your mothers getting tea ready for you and ah booky boy…”
and then i look down n see
that the booky girl in aurora really cares for her imaginary dad
stuffy olde bugger that he is
she gets up this smorning
as soon as shes awake
wheres the pipe dad?
her imagination lets it be
is this a metaphor for life
certain evil characters bestriding the world stage
they stick that metaphorical pipe in their mouths
and we believe it
they put on a suit
and their killing is civilised
elli n minna were up late watching movies
and entertaining a swedish friend
i think an early morning swim could be in order for doodles
maybe the bumper would appreciate a seaside romp
im attempting to relax today
i have realised im very very tense
and im finding it hard to truly relax
im always thinking of all the things i havent done
the things i havent sent
the emails unwritten
the heavy weight of possibilities
a quicksand of undone deeds sucking me down n down
thanks for all yessadaze commence
enjoy yer yule baby
thats what its there for
tonite the basement
tomorrow the world
sk

*probably not
the number of comments is way down
(tho nice to have the queen back…i was wurried bout ya!)
is this the xmas slump?
people im a jealous god n i need those comments…
otherwise am i just talking into the void…?
hello….is there anybody out there?
i love my regular people
you know who y’all are
rest-a-rant marko, anthony cee
richard mc healthy n good wife
little eeky, who is very naughty
decking the halls etc
verdy-lai
well-aska
jai-me
bonnie bon
dutchman
the wilde one from nz who is no carpet
cagey ole pagey
the manne with the mission
johnny “gee” garrotted
bri-anne smiff (a troo beleevah!)
groo-pee the chrissy
ry cst a shoulder of fortune discoverer of civilizations
baal…..how is mrs baal…?
d + t in syddley
sir gareth of knotts
who while being one of the handsomest knights
is, unfortunatly
one of my most hot-blooded men
having slain 3 or 4 perfectly innocent dragons….
andy pandy n the neptunic druids oh you guys wroc my main man
stealthywealthynwiseguys…mercy bow coo
poochie weild your axe
alt-rez in the frozen north
savant in the capital
all the rest of ya
christ do you think i can remember anything
my brain does hurt like a where house
i am cramming so many things in there
a loada new songs for space night
my lines from my play which is proceding spiffingly
having rehearsed inna fronta some of technicals last night
who said yes yes good work
me a pipe smokin’ tweed wearin’ “straight”
i say
now look here my dear fellow
i been watching this guy all our lives
i can do him if i want to
and i wanna nail all his twitchy nervousness
his outraged dignity
and his naive dopeyness
oh yes
i can talk in a posh accent too
my mums telephone voice
and the major
and the queen
and david coverdale
hang on a minute…..
david coverdale?
from whitesnake?
yes
david coverdale from whitesnake
possessor of one of the most hoity-toity accents ever
can you imagine him giving the other guys in his band
the pre-show motivational schpiel…?
“alright chaps….seems like words come down
and about jolly time, if you ask me
and it seems perfectly beastly
if we dont give these fellows
a ruddy good show and give them what for…
and jenkins on the bass there…?
“”sir!”
i dont tolerate passengers on this ship, jenkins
you knew you were here to rock
and by jove
rock you shall!”
anyway
now ive way-laid myself again
ive set traps before i reached bombay
and i was gonna say
right at the start
just after the title
how about some new comments from some new commenters?
cmon….
whatcha made of?
are ya a smart-arse?
a fawning sinkofant?
a practicle man….
a busy house or mid wife…
a student at the school of hard knox?
perhaps youre a nasty lurker with nary an intension to subskrybe
or a generous dough-nater
it doesnt matter
nows the time to comment
eg
a sample comment
“er….ive never commented before so here goes
um….well..that was it!
b murgatroid
de.”
thats it really
something pithy
something meaningful
something to change the world
just life in one sentence…its not hard
comment on the whether
you can criticize me too
eg
hippy dribble
stoned waffle of a charisma-less drongo
twilight ravings of doomed beatnik
slandoulous lies of a bitter lemon
gossipy tripe n bad poetry r us
naive ego-sentric olde tosser
in tedious self-congratulatory “free” prose
reads like the bastard offspring of yogi bear
n michael mooorcock
see?
you can say lovely kind things too
like
oh stevie youre so young
i wish i was pushing fifty three
and ive dyed all these white bits into my beard
just like you
signed
mrs c darwin
or
oh timeless being
ive followed you since day one
yes, i was there the day the cherch first rehearsed
outside the door
and i made a bootleg
and would you mind if i burned a few
and sold em..
just to friends n others
just a few thousand till i get me money back?
or even
killer i adore thee io io ao

anything will do
JUST DO SOMETHING
now
dont even wait till youve finished reading
comment now
hit that comment button hard!
send me a message
use it!
weve bought a hifi ipod for ourself for xmas
it cost 500 bux but it sounds amazin’
nk got it up the bloody junction
nice work nk!
listnin to harold buddy n billy nelson
oh so much detail in yonder sound
its about the size of a shoe-box
ipod sits on top
i tell ya olde t-being very happy with this device
anyway
im gonna split
its a overcaste day
n a little cool
of course im gonna hit the poole now
and doo my chi gong
mmm breathe deep that prana, childe
walk around
pay some bills
a man sent me a cheque
mr snow, youre not so colde…
thank you
i will banque it today
if it has not rubberised
someone sent me a twenny dollar bill in the post
well thank you everyone likes moneymail!
but beware
ive sent people money like that before too
and it usually disappears
theres some little bastard down the p.o.
with a fucking money detecting machine..
of course
i thank profusely my pay-trens
n my sub-skrypers
oh thank ye
the soy turkey is being plucked
ah the wee beeings will eat
and baby bum-pah says thank you folks
10 % of all money received will be donated to
the bumperfund
to pay for crushed pastels in carpet
drawing on the wall
weeing on the floor
dropping food everywhere
gates, locks, kiddy-proofing etc etc
broken sunglasses, schmeared cds n dvds
things dropped out windows
and for rubbing your chocolatey face on my washed black
alex grey t shirt!
goodbye
for to-day
s k