The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

i am the blogge king
i can do anything
warm humid morning here in n bondi
birds twitter n tweat outside
as it dawns
everyone still sleeping
still dreaming
reluctant to rise
sydney tries to squeeze another 10 minutes outta the night
dreaming their big time dreams
today i am filled with no rancour
i feel even
content
let em do whatever they will
this is all an obstacle course
you cant sort it out
you jusy gotta get thru
its 2007 and weve got ipods
that can hold 5 million songs
and weve the iraqi “war” dragging on n on
why is australia in there?
is there an australian reading my blogge today
who can tell me why our soldiers in baghdaddy
are protecting these shores?
ha ha
you just gotta tell a big enough lie
i cannot believe the standard of the politicians these days
the druid here
the “premier” (u.s. = governor)
of nsw
was on telly the other night
his speech
his oratory skills
his manner
were like an awkward 8 year old
reading his composition to the D class
for fucksake
is that the best we got?
this bumbling mumbling stumbling oaf
is the premier of australias most important state?
(mainly because it contains tim powles and i)
the man has all the charisma of cold garlic bread
whatever this guy does
i know i could do it a million times better
and i can pronounce long words
write my own speeches
come up with new unusual attacks on the opponents
be so photogenic that all the olde dears’ll gimme their vote
i wont toe that party line
i’ll give all that money earmarked for boring stuff
(eg roads dams etc)
and funnel it into the sk foundation
a non-prophet tax-free scheme
to promote olde renaissance space rockers
i mean wouldnt you rather have me living it large
than another fucking road somewhere in the country
sod it
spend the money fixing bondi up
turn the parking meters into poker machines
5 bucks for a 10 minute stay
or you could win 100 bucks in 2 dollar coins
have some surrealist meters
so you stick youre money in and they say things like
bugger off and park somewhere else, you yuppie
or
we live in the void of metamorpheses
or
what is the sound of one wheel parking
i dunno
get rid of all those nasty parking inspectahs
replace em with clowns
let people park where they want
1st in, 1st served
spend those traitorous bastards salaries
on pavement artists
gimme some time to think em all up
give people some situationist surprises in their lives
close down all the butchers shops
turn them into temples for arcane gods
put some funny signs on the beach
like
ooh i wouldnt swim today, youll probably drown
or
beware! sharks prefer irish tourists!
or
dont feed the killer whales
or
if stung by jellyfish, kiss arse goodbye
and you know translate them into some useful languages
like latin
or sumerian
or icelandic
with accompanying diagrams
eg a great white swallowing paddy backpacker n winking
an idea i thought of when i was a wee kid
could now be instigated
on a certain day of the week
all women must walk around naked
no hiding at home there
just act normally
except that youll be totally starkers
i think a few “children should be seen n not heard” days too
and the occaisional “not seen or heard “day as well
now check out this dudes name
morris iemma
i mean iemmas kinda ok in a weird fucking way
but morris?
a premier should be called something…
something masculine yet sensitive
something classic but not olde
a fine masculine name
with an inferior feminine equivalent
a loyal royal name
its coming to me…
itsa coincidence
but whaddya think of …
steven
you can call him steve for short if you wanna be familiar
or even stevo if you play footy together
or even stevie boy if you got him some good news
or you can call him steven
if youre his mother brother or wife
so just with this one change
steve iemma
oh i kinda dig that
stevo iemma …wow nearly all the vowels, you owls
i got so many suggestions its a burden to me
but i get infuriated that we just couldnt have
just a generally more “with-it” geezer
for such a groovy, merciless, suntanned, wicked ,”with-it”place
as nsw
i know you laugh
but i ask you
again
could i do a worse job?

we got inflation deflation stagnation across this nation
we got a higher and a lower blah blah blahs than anywhere else
we should invade the good bits of qld and vic
(dont fuckin worry melbourne then! ha ha!)
we should annex the rest of aust(whatever that means)
we should sink new zealand
get rid of all those hammy actors n tribute bands
eg not armageddon but close
we should tow tasmania into shore once n for all
after all they gave us an encore at the wino-ree gig..
it can join up with melbourne
as a place to send convicts gooseballs n ex-premiers
we should disarm the army
un-knave the navy
the disappeared into thin airforce
make suits a misdemeanour
fine those smarmy bastards dressing up to impress people
a huge tax on all lexi, beemers, mercs, jaggys,
except my own lamborgini station wagon
with retro rockets
anyway
in nsw you got 2 choices
ones a total dullard
the other is the nastiest sneakiest ratbag ever
a real sniggering mudslinging effeminate snobby turkey
hes got a phd in muckraking
and his smirking visage is truly gruesome
great choice
a choice between nothin n nothin
is this demockracy?
bullshit

chapter 13
poor little steven knew he was good and lost now
a blackbird landed on a branch in a tree overhead
the same one that had followed him all the way thru the snow
as he had been trying to find his uncles house
“oh go away you stupid thing” he muttered to the bird
and it cocked its head on one side as if it were listening
steven didnt know that the bird was once a child
and that all the creatures in this wood
were children
turned into animals and birds
and grey fish that swam in the brooks
the small black bird could almost still remember his life back then
his other life….
but it seemed oh so long ago now
steven cowered into the shadow of a pinetree full of snow
and wondered and wondered
he had only a few hours left
before this short day would die
and the long night would fall down
but he was so cold and numb
that he couldnt almost be bothered caring anymore
he leant up against the tree
and ate the last of the food his mother had prepared for him
it was then his eyes were filled with warm tears
when he thought of his mother
and how she would be out looking for him
and wondering where…
his thoughts were interrupted by a sound in the forest around him
he looked up and saw a deer with tears in its eyes
and the rabbits and the red fox
the raven and the owl and the winding adder
and all wept along with him
yes even the snake and birds
for such things are possible for enchanted creatures
“oh creatures can you hear me ?” he wondered out loud
although none gave any sign to show they had heard
the boy realised they could understand his words
he knew this because this was a magical forest
and already a dark magic was falling down upon him
although he had no idea what was happening
but already a sorcery was changing him
so slowly at first…
so slowly you couldnt even tell…
the red fox nuzzled at his hand
and then
pushing him
pushing him away
“no , no i dont want to go” cried the boy
but the fox gently pushed at him nevertheless
and the deer nudged him softly with her beautiful head
and her eyes full of sympathy
but steven didnt want to leave now
now the magic was working upon him
he was feeling strangely good
strangely alive
as if he…
as if he could scale trees so easily
or hold his breath and swim forever in the frozen over river
or as if he could float on the icy air with eyes that see everything
and he wanted to glide into the cold earth and sleep
until spring came again adorned with flowers and warm zephyrs
and he knew how it felt to run through the fields
racing over grass and stone…
but the creatures implored him silently with their eyes
and the fox and the deer still gently urged him up and away
“whats this ?” asked the boy drunk with the forests enchantment
“dont you want to share your forest with me?”
still the creatures strove to make him go
but he swore at them and brandished a stick
and eventually they reluctantly, it seemed, departed
after a while
he felt a delicious languidness come upon him
and he sat down under the tree
on a mossy rock
and he fell into a deep deep slumber

the countryside
the black lakes
the mute farmers toiling in the fields
small graveyards and white churches
cuckoos calling in the dusk
oh where does that little path lead ?
oh where can we be ?
in the forest
wandering again in this forest
on this little path
the air goes past so soothingly
as we glide down the track
under a starry sky
and the crescent moon in cloudy milkiness
creatures stir but we see nothing
the leaves gently shudder
take my hand
oh take my hand
because i am lost here
a thousand tiny sounds in the night
scratching rustling squeaking
mighty trees and baby mice
gnomes who live amongst the roots of the oak
moss and white stones
tangled and cool
the darkening path
the deepening shadows
i am no stranger but
i look and youre gone
alone bitterly alone
i keep hoping to wake up
i stumble upon a little house in a clearing
a very old and frail lady comes out
she smiles at me sadly
come in my son
ive made you some lovely nettle soup

how could it contain so many?
how could it hold so much?
i dont know who i am
i dont know where im going
i wish i could shake this tight knot of anxiety
i wish these shadows could be dispelled
so lost so lost so lost
broken and changed
now look at me
hurling myself over n over against the world
stupid world i want you if you want me
i still do even if you dont
only yesterday i was a boy
a cruel little boy maybe
i fall for the same olde tricks
repeating and looping
who is is haunting me?
whos filling my mind with these words?
who whispers those terrible things?
a cloak of vulnerability
magic shoes that wont move
things have warped in the sun
the holes in my arm have congealed
that lying mirror
that false reflection
skin falls away
time undulates
the stars remained fixed
the light here burns my eyes
night is within me
i carry the night as my shell
if day comes i’ll crawl back into night
i hate them both
the shadows and the fire
the darkness and the blazing light
im just arguing with myself
people, throw me money cos im mad
lying under this blanket of material
my spirit my soul
regarding things
like a bird in a cage
wanting his freedom
but knowing it will kill him
fly fly fly
this all must be a joke
i see things
i say things
i communicate my desire
a sexualized world of shapes and form
planes and angles
soft tumescences
a womans voices
all around in this night
leave me alone!
steven steven steven
leave me alone!
but i rise and i rise and i rise
no no
i hold on to anything now
but up i go
firing firing firing
blasting into the darkness
curves and dales
the same old same old
my punishment and my reward
my obsessive selves
burning my hands
slave to this geometric sleight of hand
who or what keeps trying to come
im drowning in pleasure
but its driving me insane
to go round and round
again
when even my insatiable slave is finished
and gone
when all the different voices are quiet
and the cooing and sighing and moaning is over
when a mockery of sleep falls over me
under a fabric of sweat
when the windows slide open of themselves
and the birds in trees outside leave
and when the music in my ears fades down
and the mercury sinks down in its tube
when fish leave the sea and struggle for the land
and my stomach is so empty
and my mind so full
just in time
just in time
and i know i was right
and that it wont belong
now

well
my rush into the stratosphere has been curtailed
at the moment im back to 79
the being who fell back to earth
down down down
it was a long way down
i fell screaming n falling
out of those charts
like a doomed comet
like icarus, suddenly wingless
like a stone
falling
felled
the feller was felled
full of fall
fatal flaw
clutching
resisting
twisting in the air
over n over
down down n round
screaming burning crashing
dashed my # 1 dreams
smashed my ambitions
earthbound
held down
point me at the sky
im gonna have ta fly again
i guess its gonna take more than a cuppla old photos
to launch me back up there where the air is rare
to get me back over the moon
back to the drawing board
ha!

rusty said it would happen
wow
i jumped from 78 to 40
in a few hours
or what?
or is it just the natural flux of the blogge-tide?
ok theres some pictures ahead
feels like everythings changed now
the blogges gone visual
you gain something
you lose something
but thats life
i dunno what to think
nk not keen on pictures of her or doodles or woofle
so just me
i havent even asked the twillies ..i hope they dont mind
now i have this thing….what to do with it?
you may find it ruins it for you
you may find it enhances it
well im gonna figger out better things than fambley schnappshotts
gotta try n be creative
never done much photography
never done any actually
a new field for me to konka?
tonite
steve kilbey will play dance sing sculpt act recite paint photograph
all in one sickening self centred load of old rubbish “installment”
entitled “my egos crushing gravity”
plus his beautiful dortas (in a bikini)
and bumper the performing woofle
but if you guess her name she gets real mad
the doodles are there like night and day
i want to put my family on broadway
and my mum too
god bless her
my mum will be talking about the phenomenon of
the lawn bowls groupie
and tips on raising cheeky little sods
my mum knows how to make great christmas puddings
is it a dying art?
who will make the puddings of the future?
my brother rusty
well i was listening to crystal set from now on yessaday
gee theres some good stuff there
funny it was ricki ticki miami from the briny johnstone mescalin
who put the crystal set on the ipod 4 me
some of it was really shoegazery before its time
i love shoegazer
and i love space
but i love bobby dylan
and i love that crazy german stuff
anyway
thats me i guess
exploiting my fambley a la the ozbyrnes
chucking em all out there n putting em to work
im shameless
and i love the headlong rush of success
that slightly sick feeling
as it hits yer system
yessiree
from 78 to 40
see me go
70
60
50
40
?0
?
surely im destined for #1
oh let it be
let it be
but until then
farewell

yes
thats minna
me in the middle with the beard
n elli on the right
otherwise we look like triplets
actually i put the trip back in triplets
this pic is about 2 years old now
love
sk

this is my 2nd eldest on bondi boardwalk at xmas

Heres a shot of me.