The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

ah
arrival in hungary
had indian for lunch
mm lovely
then i had tomato soup n salad for dinner
at the absinthe bar
so guess what i drank there you foolish fiendss
but not the really good absinthe
oh no theres some better stuff
the one that smacks you round the kisser
and chucks ya into the universe next door but one
and damn it i just had my first hit of zwack
straight from the minny bar
plus kind mr z gave me a lil herb for my brain salad
kind mr kn also on hand
so far so good
lovely hotel
lovely hotel
nothing ultra fancy
but very elegant classy functional and inviting
the ratbags who put british hotel rooms together
should be made to study this
may i say without offending boydy n the rest of the poms
and remember i can say this cos im english
english hotel rooms are shoddy n bloody ‘orrible
so too fucking scottish irish n probably welsh
even the good ones
why cant they get together something decent
in the way of a hotel
?
now im eating a
hungarian chocky bar
something i dunno
its real good tho
the alcohol has put me in a slightly stupid n belligerent mood
but there again what else would ya expect?
i look up n catch sight of my own face
with my short hair n reading glasses
i could be somebodies professor in a horror movie
did you know when i was 13
i was riding alongside a rail
looking at some kids playing
when i collided head on
with one of the keane boys, the milkmans kid
and i came off my bike like superman
flying thru the air
in my mind in slo mo
then i headdive straight into young keanes pedal
one of those sharp metal ones
i thank lord vishnu for preserving me
coz one tiny bit lower n it woulda been my right eye
but i just had six stiches right on my eyebrow
ie it did not mess up my pretty face
however the eyebrow n under the eyebrow never
completely went back down after it swelled up like a balloony
and so you see my eyes have very different shapes
when im looking up which i am now into the mirror
the puppyfat n drug bloat have left my cheeks hollow
and i am again quite angular
my hair is short n straight
its fine n thin
my beard is creeping white up my face
the lips that i admire on evie k
draw no response placed in my own face
i surprise myself when i look in the mirror
different lights reveal me to look very young
or very old
freckled or hardly none
i like the glasses but theyre just for reading
my nose is a nice shape but its always red
which kinda cancels the other out somewhat
i have bags under my eyes n wrinkles
but by some weird chance
i enjoy looking like this
much more than all the other olde mes
i just feel at home
and my face truly reflects who i am now
after the reshaping processes of life drugs time
sorrow anger booze etc etc
but yoga n qi gong n swimming
have also rewritten a new sincerity honesty n austerity
on my dial
im happy to be me now
yes that is my face
its ok
hey theres a lotta much much much handsomer geezers
and much much much younger too
but i dont begrudge em their looks at all
its all skin deep baybee
or is it
true beauty shines thru any veil
and an ugly soul is never masked by a pretty face
to tell the truth i get more excited by a handsome man
than a pretty woman
theyre more rare n can be more exquisite
but usually marred by vanity too
like watching beautiful children slowly realising the power
they have over people…
its sad
self consciousness is one of my most loathesome traits
but its also part of my make up
you cant subtract one from the other
without some extraordinary means
such as
sex
drugs
magic
yoga
qi gong
meditation
exercise
you know
all the usual suspects
i gotta get outta my head baybee
when i am in the darkness why do you intrude?
the tb gotta leave sk behind
it happens on stage
ttb totally takes over
i will will this possession
i will allow the being to have me
and sk will be tied to a silver chair for 2 hours
while the being lets the rock get unleashed
look out europa
the time being is back
and hes ready to rock
so if yer too olde or too young
too smart or too dumb
you better getta outta my weigh
im gonna move it remove it groove it and soothe it
im gonna sing whisper scream and ululate
and all the rest of that bullshit
tomorrow
hungarian rehearsal!
oh
and i knew i’d forgotten sumthing
my camera
boo hoo!
i’ll try n sort out somethingo
sk

easter monday morning
i ring my little duckling in dela-where?
but shes busy putting bumper to sleep
and that can be a fiddly n tricky task
sometimes the bumper pretends to go to sleep
so as you sneak out
she can open her eyes
stare at you sadly..
pack yer bags..youre going onna guilt trip
i listened to both gilt trips the other day actually
i reckon i’d like em if say
rikki mon-ami from the braying jungstown madagascar
say he stuck gilt trip on my pod
and i stumbled upon it
the way i stumble on all these other great things
he put in my pod
but no wundah the music biz is going down ye olde draine
i mean
i dont even go in the ten dollar cd shop no more
note to non aust residents:
full price cds are about 30 bucks here
but i mean i sat around my anonymous friends house lassanite
we was thinking of the most obscure stuff
we could think of
i remembered seeing an advertisement for a band called affinity
back in 1970 in the nme
so i say see if they got affinity
i mean iesus christos
affinity is gotta be pretty rare
maybe…maybe
mwps got it
i wouldnt be surprised
but sure enuff
the internets got it
bang
we’ll have that
its blurb reads psychedelic jazz blah folk pop fusion
(read: its probably atrocious bullshit)
but hey you want rarity
i read somewhere that true fans
will buy music if by their faves
and especially if “indy”
even tho they could get it for free
(hint hint)
no no
i trust you fiends
its like subscrbing to this blogge
some people
they know who they are
i know who they are
have been ridiculously generous
and i do most ‘umbly thank ’em
others have been very fair
and to them i again say thank ye kindly
these people have more than made up for those
who dont care to subscribe
and thats how life is
you winsome
you lose sum
if it was me i probably wouldna gotten around to paying either
fuck i dont even thank the people properly for gifts theyve sent
like memmy mem from memland
a copy of gospel of judas
but also in a cover handpainted
with bottle of jaeger on front
n can of red bullshit on back cover, lover
i must say this mem
its hard to read
with the gaps n fragments n footnotes
i mean it aint:
hi im judas iscariot
and last nite
jesus h christ walked on yonder water baybee
i mean the nazarene he was aqua-ambulating y’all
no its like a few words n then copious footnotes
which say that the word “love” you just read, say
actually in this aramaic or hebrew or whatever
those cats were talking in
well it says love could also mean hate
or loathing
or it could mean flowerpot or riverbank
and a lot of scholars are going for the vase option…
can you dig this broken up narrative that judas ends up being
im afraid i temporaraly stalled
ive started american gods by neil gaiman
which rusty swears is a good book
it better be rusty
i dont wanna find out at 18 ooo miles over borneo
that this books boreing me to teers
but the letters are printed big
and thats a start
at least
yes
this arvo
me n powlesy koppes n johnno
our lighting man from the last 20 odd yeers
n mrs tp
will all fry to london via some singer-poor
or bang cock!
one or the other
to start our euro tour
now im hoping to have a treat for y’all
i said hoping didnt i
im gonna take my camera n try n post some pics
as i flounce around europa
visiting places i hope the jazz is gonna flow
thats right if you coming to our say
transylvanian gigs
and you think boy itll be hard for the olde being
to do any jazz numbers tonight
and you think
hey my uncle hugo left a stash of sweet jazz
in my top drawer
then please please
children of the night
bring it on home
a different kind of subscriber you shall be deemed, childe
yes a jazz donor for all time exonerated of pecuniary payments
just knock on the door n say
jazz sent me
but beware
in the u.s.
naughty people using invoking name of sacred jazz
coming thru door n saying whoops no jazz but anyway….
well let me say
i frown on that behaviour most solemnly
and have been known to lash out emotionally
at such wags n trickstahs
obviously in holland for example
this jazz service is self service
so no need to help there
but otherwise
whatever
anyway
look at me
calling out
loud as thunder
i should be suiting my pack case
i should be watering the goldflowers
n feeding the fishplants
i should be washing up
washing down
washing around n around
rinsing off
rinsing on
rinsing yer daughter
rinsing yer son
sweeping the floor
flooring the taxi
get to the airport
sit on the planey-waney
please mr captain with yer goldstripes n peeked hat
fly me safely if not for my sake
then for all them kids i got
and all my blogfiendss
broken harted if their tb
bites the dust in some awful crash
let him have his vegan food
not to be hassled by gay stewards
or kicking brats behind
nor persons overflowing into his seat
when he needs to sleep
when hes thru pacing the isles n aisles
and watching the stars
n lights of distant cities behind their walls of chloroform
make the olde being so lonely so lonely
next posty will be from bewda-pesto
zwak!

what do i care if some silly sods done a new version
of utmw?
what do i care for all the constant reappraisal
the experts pontification
let em dissect me
i cant feel it
let em say what they want
or let em ignore me if they want
i am what they say i am
well theres show biz
and theres the time being
why would i be here otherwise?
do i chart the everyday for everyman?
do i navigate the safe waters of the mundane planes
like everybody else…?
no no no
the being is your vanguard
the being does the things with his mind
that you dont dare to anymore
the being is in a permanent state of arrested childhood
the being is still open to the spirits of the mineral world
the being with its past lives flowering like a damaged parachute
i have reached this position….
interesting
hmmm
a strange position indeed
its my niche
now let me occupy it
it so easy to be even half-good
in this half-bad world
a bit of this
a bit of that
oh the easier it gets
the better it is
cant you understand i am torn between great confidence
bordering on obsessive vanity
and a terrible doubt
a terrible feeling of failure
i need to master everything
i pick up a fucking ukelele …
if i aint written a song in 2 minutes
i furious
fucking uka -laylee
gimme my 4 string bass
that heavy little mother aint never gonna run outta riffs
oh my sweet sweet bass
best bass in the world
rolls royce of basses
organic bass
pure bass
warm bass
you gotta love warmth baby
i donta wanna mah bass to sound cold n clanky
i dont want no zingy rickybacker bass
i dont want no dirty gibson neither
i want the king
the leveller
the definitive instrument
i want the straddy-various of basses
mister im talking about the fender jazz bass
it just is alright
yeah yeah
people play others
but they know jazz is best
smoke jazz n play jazz on my jazz n all that jazz
oh its the feeling of the best…
oh bass still a mystery to be unravelled
im just getting started
my fingers think of stuff themselves
and my heart plays all the sharps n flats
and my mind figures out the interweave
and my spirit tries to keep it simple
but my brain wants to chuck everything in there
im under a spell
a good spell
an improvement spell
you wait
youll see
youll say
most improved of 2007
the time being
good boy steven!
because i can
i do this
because i can
yeah you could come up with a dumb comment
that lasts one line
you may even come up with a smart comment
if ya lucky
but can ya sustain it baybee
day in
day out
knocking it out
just because i can
we aint got dylan thomas no more
we aint got arthur rim-bo or william s.
who we got
i dunno
martin amis?
a few fiction writers
john crowley (yeah!)
i dunno
whos trying to reconcile all this stuff?
fantasy magical realistic mythological
surrealistic beatnik bohemian hindu
rocknroll hodge podge of pure bullshit
yessir that’ll be me
thisll be my stop
im live to air here
i done all those things youve dreamed of
and i lived your nightmares too
at least some of them arky-types
i aint easily defeated by impossibility
i mean i wanna hear sideways music
i wanna see sculptors sing in steel
if you resisting this
im puzzled then
do i feel resistance?
the proof in the pudding
with the brandy n the currents
ive had so much field experience
sitting here
listening to yellow6/portal
thanks ricky miami
another innately grroovy guy
i have to admire
even tho im old enuff to be his farther
ricky miami youve hidden so many gems in my pod
every days a musical mystery tour
so sitting here
i think of all the hotel motel make you wanna die
i think of all the notes ive plucked
all the words i sang
all the arguments i had with pricks idiots n ratbags
sometimes all of the above
i think of the flights
cold sweating in a cramped seat over some icy ocean
or middle eastern hotspot
all the hands i hadda shake
all the babies i hadda kiss
all the promises i hadda make
all the rehearsals
all the cars n limos n vans
the helicopters n the ferries
the unions n the managers n the roadies
n the deelers n the heelers
n the crews n the audiences in spades
screaming for the time beyings blood
expecting something no one could deliver
anticipating something so sublime yet…
failure is built in to it im afraid
gotta keep trying
barking up wrong alleys
running up dead end trees
running up bills
running up the shops for energy drinks n a packet of tally-ho
kidsa saying where you going king rude daddy?
go daddy go
somebody rings me up
they say are you stevie kilbey oh boy
i say yes i am whose this boyo?
they say oh stevie kay kay im your number one fan
i say whatdya think of uninvited
they say scuse me?
i say can you name me any song other than under the milky way
they say under the what?
i say do you know any song at all?
they say oh no i guess you got me there..no good with names
i say what you want?
they say nothing
i say who are you
they say no one
i say where are you
they say yeah you guessed it nowhere
huh
howdja like that?!
so does that ever happen to you
i m really living this large up to the hilton
im some pathetic peter pan with ‘is white beard
poncing about on a stage in buda-pest
or maybe penrith panthers
cept in budapest kitty kat coulda gotten in
but they shoo’d her away at penriff
poor kitty kat
up in darwin
no gw
no ir
she gotta keep hopin ole sk keeps on keepin on
imagine if you send in a neggy comment n i die nexta day?
oooh eek a mouse might come round n find ya!
but if you can blogge on the otherside
poor kitty kat
then i’ll send ya a sign
like yer ipod ll throw me on shuffle 13 times inna row
or i’ll make ectoplasm appear all over yer cubicle at work
people be nice to me now
im olde
i deserve some tlc
no no not slavish sinko-phancy
back off there you weirdos
ha ha
ah now you may approacheth…..
just consider my delicacy you see
i am the delicate bricklayer
and a whole string of oxymorons
all self aggrandizing my puny self
now projected on yer multi-screen
in all its pixellated graininess
im just letting off steam
i cant shut it down
it wants to stream
it wants to get out of my head
it craves the internet
it craves instant transmission
im sitting here
somewhere ya cant really imagine
but in five minutes
some dude in cairo’ll be reading this tripe
wowee
im drunk with that power
that icon thats says
” publish this mess right now!”
that feeling ya get when ya let people
all over the place read yer fuckin’ mind
well now my lifes a soup opera
jus’ like they always said it shoulda been
you read about the doodles n the bumper
boy there some characters for sure
in the finer focus of dopes trance
where i sift thru my one inch thoughts
and decide it couldnt be done
this is it… cyber poems for a buncha blog fiendss
whatever ya wanted
whatever ya thought you gonna get
anyway
i should be doing the washing up
i should be packing my soup case
and chequeing my geemails n oh boymales
i should grow up
cut my job n get a hare
come outta my silver panelled cocoon
earth to kilbey
earth to kilbey
can you hear me mayja killa
can you hear me
can you hear me…….

east of sunday
in a bizarre n seemingly random universe
opened up by ritualized movement
the eagle fills me with sight
easter
oh renewal
oh rebirth
i see all the beautiful places
no longer existing
the green and tree lined street where i lived
in biblical times
those white white houses
in the nice part of jerusalem
oh yes there some nice parts
cool arbours fountains amazing views
music the cabbala my furniture
it was our present
our everyday
we knew no other
we enjoyed the luxuries of warm nights
a warm night is universal language
an evening descending
like your lover coming down a spiral staircase
oh words fill your mouth with praise
to me everything is personified
im having relationships with inanimate objects i hardly know
the wires are shrieking out to me
as i past
as i am transformed in the liquid time
gliding down the years
i remember this day long ago
this very easter sunday
waking up on a camp bed beside my parents
and finding a little box of chocolates
with an egg in the middle
as smart as i was i never tried to decipher the symbology
i didnt stop to ask about what it all meant?
a chocky is a chocky is a chocky
and my father said all these things that made the ladies laugh
and i wanted to make all the ladies laugh too
but when i got my chance it never came out right
easter meant a big crowd
and now i realise they were all drinking…
is that why the ladies were all laughing?
i watched a film of this period
everything swaying 46 years ago in an orangish glow
the men in white shirts n greased back hair
all clutching big dark cold beers
the women all sit together giggling
as the camera man (my father)
swoops in and films their legs
occaisionally a little freckle faced kid
with dark hair runs about thru the frame aimlessly
hey thats me
i didnt even know i was the time being then
but some awful restlessness was gnawing at me
i dont know why you should care
and maybe you dont
my childhood was still more enchanted
and im so grateful to the people who made it all possible
made it possible for me to be a childe
and for me to indulge in my long imagineering
when i’d disappear for hours with a deck of cards
or a bag of marbles
later on i got a double breasted pinstripe suit
and wore it to uncle ken n aunty irenes wedding
then a few months later
i wore it to my 1st girlfriends big sisters christmas party
and i stood on her verandah as they all laughed at me
in a nice way
cos i was wearing a suit
and there was a guy there called claudio
and he was playing wild records on the record player
and he was younger than me
but he seemed infinitely more groovy
t t bs questing beast :
finding guys who are “groovier” than him
and slavishly admiring them
you know i do it with sam s
n a few others
anyway
the past is waiting
very patiently
for us
theres something in it for you
if you dare enter another mans past
oh easy there…!
take off your shoes
and dont trample my memories sunshine
its easter sunday eternal
palm trees the passover
christ riding that little donkey
just like it says he would in the old test
they cheer ya one day
they murder ya the next
such is the fickleness of fame
jesus who wrote such good lyrics
to hits like
ah…just forgive em
and
hey try n love that bastard a little
and
the meeks shall inherit the world
and you laugh laugh laugh
didnt you
you say
oh man dont give me jaysus sk
no no no
indeed
no proselytizing here on my blogge
just
you know
hey
this man was something good
even tho bad guys twisted it bitterly
the original man was very nice
or whatever
you dont take religious advice
of an olde washed up pop singers blogge do ya?
my advice is open up to possibilities
thats it
youve created a veneer
but its keeping you in
as well
as keeping it out
a guy made a million bucks by thinking of
dont worry be happy
it was there for the taking
like a ripe fruit fulla money
people wanted to pay to hear him say it
dont worry be happy
im suddenly distracted
ice formations glitter in my minds eye pod
stalignites
i dont care how its spelt
im spellman not spell-man
spellman was a guy i could admire
with his hair n clothes
boy what a dandy
i’d hate to meet him these days
oh there were a few of those local legends
always in the thick of things
wherever it was all happ’nin’
there they were
backstage with the band
or at the mall with some girls
or in the winning footy side
or catching the biggest waves
always dressed just right
in bone cords n houndstooth flannely
with suntanned feet
and sunblonded salt twisted hair
i am but a shadow of these guys
these long gone half imagined idols
hanging round bowling alleys
drinking fanta
and waiting till the girls from another school arrive
can you play a guitar
no but im trying to learn
im too skinny for football
and i cant see the sense in getting hurt
for a stupid fucking ball
i cant bear to see my pretty face messed up
thats why i always declined a fight
i seen a busted nose n a black eye
and i liked my nose nice n straight as it is
and my teeth even though they were a bit yellowish
with white patches at the front
well i didnt wanta lose em in some fight
better to lose face
than lose ones face
thats my saying
you can use it if you want
but please credit me if you do
its just common courtesy isnt it?
im gonna go n have a falafel with my brother john
bye now

being here
i m f@#% ing steve kilbey, aint i?
(this time)
a cab driver
swerves to the curb
are you f@#$%ing steve kilbey?
youre the best famous person i ever had
he says
i give him a five dollar tip
but not the most generous he sighs
well that isnt true….
no actually there was a cab driver
wasnt there
is that the truth or the facts?
does it matter?
do you think everything you read is true?
do you think bobby dylan shot a man
and took his wife to italy?
muse : what are you trying to say?
me : something about veracity…about jesus
muse: i thought i felt something religious coming on..
me : no muse…well you know me..
i aint no christian runnin’ dog lackey
muse : oh nevets you always had a soft spot for the nazarene
me : yes muse, though do i abhor the twisted mess
and the evil wrought from the super-prophets words
muse : are you sure it was jc himself who spoke or
let alone wrote those words?
me : whoever it was…i’ll take him or her..ok
cos even thru the translations
even thru the ludicrous hatchet job in nicea (nice ah one guys!)
even thru all the blah blah blah
man the nazarenes words do find n blind my heart
even if it is a kinda fiction
herein lies an ideal
dont write in with all jcs negative aspects
the dude was a man
he was of his time and place
just as we ALL are ,baybee
but i dig the bits where he just cools em out
oh to have that power
a truly cool star
one who soooothed
one who healed your blues n bones both
im sure the nazarene would have been an amazing rock guitarist
if he had but been born in this age of quarrel
oh god he was the son of god
but so are you
he was the son of man
and so are you that…i guess
he woulda wrenched some heartbreaking sobs
outta a fender strat
he would have written songs like psalms
a way of illumination
take your sutras call them parables
thats the connection baby
the nazarene n buddha (you fat bastard)
both trying to get you to see
if you had faith you could move mountains
i mean that happens at whatever meta-level
you wanna deal with it on
dont tell me to choose between the 2
i take the good bits that i like from all n any of em
people who could show ya different ways of looking at things
like lord krishna who just defied every rule in the book
he had 16, 000 wives
christ, imagine remembering all those birthdays..
and anniversaries
hmmmm
muse: nevets lost deep in thought
hi let me introduce myself
i am…
(drum roll)
nevets muse
my real name is
oh
you dont have the pixel arrangement
that would allow my name to appear here
i guess a lot of you are thinking
why nevets yeblik?
am i just nevets yebliks muse n no others?
well part of me is nevets only
part of me is for all his incarnations
but most of me is everybodies
if they but realised it…
what our friend herr jung
may have referred to as the collective unconscious perhaps
freud n jung were standing at a urinal
and after they finish
freud washes his hands
jung doesnt
freud says my dear herr jung
in vienna we are taught to wash our hands
after urination!
and jungy says (get this)
my dear siggy olde boy
in geneva we are taught not to piss on our fingers
***************************************************
you see i can do visceral too
and pschykiatrist jokes
all sorts for your easter selection
rants with soft centres
poems deluxe whorls
creme de dictionary
i serve all types in all weather
anywhere anyhow
nevets is plugged in constantly now
he is literally spouting prose all the time
i dont let him have the good stuff all the time
naturally
but he sometimes gets the best
nevets i say to him in his mindnheart
heres some of my own private stash
something potent
whoa boy whoa i say nevets yeblik
you know you cant take that much in-spira-ayshun
all in one go
hes greedy man
hes a grreedy manne man
he wants to play with the big boys stuff
and quite frankly
between us 800 or so reading this
i dont know if he can take it
i dont know if he really knows what hes getting into
or even if he deserves it
anyway i should snap him out of it
he tends to drift n digress
he IS getting on a bit you know
i know you wont believe this
but i like him much better now than i used to
he used to fight against everything
even me
when i was giving him pearls to cast before his wine
when i’d lay something gorgeous on him
look
i will say this
he wasnt that nice a guy…but he never abused me
like some others abuse their muse
abuse the muse
a study in losing yer ability to come up with the good stuff
no problem for me or young nevets
dont you worry
he aint gonna be the great white disappointment
poor nevets believe me his own standards crucify him
even his worst songs contain something nice
thats why he expects the best
mediocrity crushes him especially his own
all those songs lost on cassettes
everyone of em cooked up with care n integrity
nevets imagines his listeners are in on the joke
nevets wants your money and your love
nevets wants to make you laugh and cry
nevets yeblik the class clown
the one who shoulda remain unrevealed
just another writer pouring out his heart
just like shakespeare would do if they had blogs in his day
yes yes
i knew a muse who was with sweet william
oh zeus that genius could go go go
by candlelight in bawdy houses
he was knocking stuff out
and thats what its all about
yeblik is quality AND quality
volume is important for a man whos just throwing it off
nevets got his direct feed
and sometimes i open up the tap n let it flow
go nevets
go go go
nevets j yeblik
should i wake him up from his trance
imagining krishna n his 16000 wives
n contrasting it to the nazarenes (supposed) celibate life
nevets wants to reconcile it for ya
he wants to show you in his way
but hes not sure what he wants to show you
something…
thats for sure
but just what it is…
i mean i could help him if i wanted to
but
hes gotta pay his dues
hes gotta do more yoga
hes gotta swim more laps
hes gotta play more gigs
run his hands over that bass for the umpteenth time
then maybe
bit by bit
piece fitting into piece
in tiny fragments
maybe maybe
baybee
some new clue
then
off he goes
ready
steady
KABOOM!

a strange day
even for a strange man like me
some sad news i shant be the 1st to reveal…

im sitting here alone
gravenhurst is playing on the eye boxx
outside a cold rainy night has come down
nk n doodles n bumper have flown the coop
off to the u.s. to visit family
so here i am feeling a bit lonely
the empty house so devoid of children
often ive wished for this; the solitude the peace
but now ive got it…..
dear god please
see my fambley safely home
so im sitting here
eating some candy n typing my blogge
on monday i leave for europe
and all that continental jive
i dunno what to say…
im lookin’ forward to it
im open for whatever may happen….
rock on ! or something…
hey its gonna be great
are ya comin?
fandroolin’ yeah
i finished the golem
wow!
prague baby…you gotta love it
anyhow
its the day they say that j.c. got nailed to that cross
typical
the cat says some nice things
then they bang him up
excruciating
i feel today
the iron tips of the nails against my flesh
the red spurt as they hammer them home
thru skin n bone
excruciation
that poor gentle man
that lovely healing soothing beautiful fellow
his soft voice and his downcast eyes
into your hands i commend my spirit
nice one to all involved
of course nobody takes the blame for that mistake
has anything changed?
a load more atrocities we had to have
mans basic inhumanity to man
and to the beasts
and to his planet
good going
happy easter!

whither goest thou, being?
in enchanted forests or great pulsing cities
under cowslips or among the insatiable machinery
there you’ll find me…
where hast thou been ?
in unimaginable unendurable silences
when my heart beat was the loudest thing on earth
when sleep eluded me and sickness licked me bare
alone in the wasteland of my ignorance
or running down the wrong road
grey dawns broke over me when i prayed for eternal night
the sun in the south withered my intentions
and northern snow blasted me blind
loneliness walked beside me on lonely coastal tracks
as dusk threw shadows across the world
and black shapes rose up inside the sea
in dismal rooms i sat and waited and waited
and i watched the railroads run away
upon an old horse riding up a hill
pulling my cartload of cares and woe
knocking on doors that never open
just angry voices from above telling me to get away
down by the highways edge with the weeds and small stones
where the broken glass and thorns hold sway
and the dead trees in the dead lake
following bad advice and divested of all that i had left
suffering the mocking whispers of the westwind
as its fingers lift my papers high into the treetops
where the blackbirds nest among the damp leaves
insane winters where i could not get warm
cracked skin and dry bones while my eyes run with tears
hard water and tasteless broth
headaches that stay for months
and im drained
messages scrambled
interference
collapsing sand walls
easter tide washes up flotsam and jetsam
and the faint sound of gulls crying
the water is chilly, uninviting
the air is thick with salt
basalt rocks squashed into squat grey blocks
black shells and rotting crabs claws
hooks and old bits of net
memories and regrets
the rust coloured sun sinks into metallic grey ocean
stranded on the point
yellowish foam
shipwrecks ghosts
the negation of all feeling

julius seizer standing on the shores of britain
laying into them lovely celts
now conkered
and we ran n we ran n we ran
scattered all over
in caves n coracles
in the groves of mighty oaks
on the enchanted isles
is this albion, lovely sister ?
a magical moon on beltane eve…?
we are the olde people
we were before
hidden in the forests
hiding in the glens
always there but unseen
milking the cows
pinching the babies
talking with the wind
stealing the eggs of birds
when the dragon n lion still walked this land
in summer we slept under stars
in winter the smoky cave
where we dreamed of winding rivers
and trees hanging low
the crow n the lark call in the sky
at midday
on the banks of the river hod
where we sang up the storm
where we dreamt up the gods
where we were delivered
and the big pink moon came down so low
all bathed in milky incandescence
like a whirling disc
the clouds parted graciously
to let her shine
and all our people came out
out of the dells
out of secret places
out of their hidden bowers
out of the trees n earth
out of the sky n wind
out of the deep past
and from the unknowable future
white skin n slanting eyes
graceful dance and strange song
a feast a feast a feast
drink and eat
love and sleep
disappear
before the morrow

took los doodles fabuleux to school yessaday
theres a big big circle of concerned parents
standing round discussing something
someone had heard a tsunamis about to hit bondi
someone heard it on the radio
probably bullshit i mutter
and walk over to the pool
but i start thinking
and i look at the peaceful ocean
and i imagine the mother of all waves a’rollin’ in
smashing down bondi n the school n the shops n the houses
but everything seems so calm
when i get to the pool
the guy on the front desk is saying to the lady ahead of me
well its due to hit at 11….we’ll let ya know…
i say jesus you mean there IS a tsunami coming…?!
i got kids at the school
go n have a look at the computer in the office he says
i go in and look
“8.2 earthquake in solomon islands
tsunami expected on east coast of australia at 11.00 am
evacuate beaches low lying areas etc etc”
i rush back to school
feeling kinda weird n panicky
pick up the doodles
aurora gets all hysterical
i try to explain
auroras wailing n carrying on
i don’ wanna leave school dad
i hurry doodles home
we jump in car after getting necessary things
eg the doodles grabbed their barbie computers
i got that stevie wonder song
about reaching higher ground in my head
we drive into the city
which is stupid cos the harbour wouldve flooded as well
and then we hear on radio
the tsunami has turned into a “ripple”
which would have been a great moment for em to play ripple
but they dont….
of course….
anyway nk n doodles go back to bondi junction
and buy the doodles some clothes
me n baby bumper return to a very unflooded bondi
where we have a nice time hanging out
and i teach the bumper to say “toast”
gee its nice when its just bumper n me
shes very affectionate
and very very charismatic
complete strangers stop n gasp as she goes by
i know all parents are proud as punch
but bumper really has the x-factor in spades
minna is very pretty n elli too
and their identical-ness was quite a show stopper
the doodles too are quite a package
that usually scored quite a kerfuffle in public
but the bumper is something else
“shes got a huge head bulging with brains
shes a fuckin’ genius !”
screams our local loopy restauranteur
and gosh i tend to agree
her big blue eyes are searching yer soul as she looks at you
one bat of her eyes has nannas uncles aunties n cousins swooning
she sings in tune
and the other night
as i was sitting there watching “extras”
nk n mes fave new show
bumper came running in with my new (synthetic) ugg boots
shoes shoes bumpers saying
and she helps me put em on
even becoming agitated when i dont do it immediately
shes still doing her lopsided little dance
her big head one one side and her body swaying the other
like a shamen or witchdoctor
every movement deliberate
not a wild abandon the way the doodles dance(d)
or running around like the twillies
it makes me feel strange to have this amazing childe
(this aint hyperbole fiendss…the bumper is special)
anyway
i finish the day on a good note
when marcus from austria rings up
and we do an interview for our vienna gig
i gotta say it again
vienna
this means nothing to me oh vienna…
i never been there before and im pretty excited
marcus and i have a really good chat
he knows a lot about us n his english is perfect
marcus if ya reading it was a pleasure
and thought provoking
back here in australia
blah blah radio ask me to go on n promote el mom sig
sure i say
can you play a song too?
sure sure i say
which song?
oh i dunno i say..i’ll think of something…
no no they say we need to know which song…?
well i’ll do something off el mom sig i say
seeing thats what the interviews about
well we want under the milky fucking way! they say
yeah ?i say
thats not even on the record
but thats what we want! they say
yeah?
i say
yeah! they say
well radio blah blah blah
kiss my well toned ass goodbye
and stick yer morning show up yer failing ratings
im bound for vienna n prague n berlin n amsterdam
ha ha ha

see ya 2 morrow girls n boys
xxxxx
sk

exit
medieval pause
wait!
its coming to me
you wont believe it
open your mind
im coming aboard
im swarming through your neurons now
you can hear my voice with every fibre of your time being
behind your eyes
in the corner of your mind
on your fingertips
time streams away from you
we are hurtling into futures
we are hurting for time
we are free falling into the abyss
screaming down the black corridor
headlong in april
and still
we pick up speed
slippery tendrils we grasp at
but to no avail
even me
with all this
going down n in
when you get used to it
if you get used to it
and you try for brief moments
to remain still inside the flux
frozen within lava
you’ll notice somethings
at first you’ll be confused, of course
life on life on life
it may seem that
youve got all the time
in the world
you may suddenly feel as if youre moving in slo-mo
you may encounter spirit chatter and buzzing sounds
you may shudder or burn up
you may hit inanimate objects d’art
everything will be revealed
but you wont understand it
cos we cant understand it yet
its too much
itll turn you inside out
its so simple
its so huge
its so easy
easy to smash into
and everything crumples
now
a second truly becomes an hour
youve collided with the vanishing point
youve blown through the distant horizon
impression of shattered silver shooting through the air
and the thorns will tear you
and the fragments will penetrate your shell
and rip off the skin
in the empty place
in the space between the houses
in the black streaked mornings on perspex screens
when you realise youve never been more alone
when you realise that it must be over
when no one can hear your thoughts
where the ending should be or else
and im looking for you somewhere
but its too late
im too far away
barking up the wrong tree
how was i to know?
and in the world without you….
the people there
forever a stranger
who can read these signs?
who understands this system?
you retreat
they advance
a smothered alien ive become
searching for a needle in my haystack
shooting up the rapids
and all of that
yes i expect so
talking with the giants of music
walking down flowered paths
oh what good will it do me?
being alone is not freedom
gardens and conversations appear n fade
parties yachts coloured lights on black water
scenes fly past in a haze
lost in a one way street
arguing with my father
collapsing at the start
being chased thru a park by bullies
howling for my blood
outside christine camerons on my bike
why she had blue teeth because she drank ink….
noels mother never liked me
that naive baby…..
its like a village isnt it?
the pervading odours of the winery
wolves at the door
theyre asking after you
gloves on the floor
theyre reaching after you
they want you
i walked through my first fog
without you
i fell off and cut my leg
a bird attacked me out of the blue
at first the sonorous beating of its wings puzzled me
then it hit my head with its beak n claws
screaming as it dived
and then it soared off above me
becoming a black point in the blazing southern sky
and summers probed me with scorching days
lawns withered and reflourished
rain fell in buckets
we went to the rivers and fished
the whirlpool ever alert
sucked at my feet with fingers of weeds
somebody must have saved me
im typing away here aint i?
im still here in the land of the living
today at least
maybe some important details ive left out
maybe the contents have shifted during your voyage
maybe all the appointments have been cancelled
and all the arrangements postponed
what if this road leads you astray
or this night finds you lost
and where will it end?
no one else could have written it