The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

blessed be the holy land of usa
for verily my childe
this is the source of rock
the blackmans blues
the whiteys folk
it suddenly mutates
johnny winston oboogie in old albion he catches on
micknkeef in dartford prick up its ears
jimbo in florida ….uh huh something going on
tom verlaine in del-a-where
little stevie k in a car park in canberra
waiting for his daddy
when daddy comes back he dont know his lil slim is changed
daddy i heard the who
daddy i heard a new take
daddy not morose like blues
daddy not preachy like fucking folk
daddy not complicated like jazz
daddy not limp like schmaltz
daddy this is raw and real
daddy im gonna be a rocker
even when i’m older than you are now, much older
i will build my church upon this rock
those guitars
they can shiver and wobble and vibrate and scream
and the drums like a jungle in a auto-plant
and the bass guitar …will ya listen to that….
son can you make a living plucking that 4 string behemoth
yes father
it was ever my destiny
on my 16th birthday
my first bass comes to me
and i set to
figuring out how i will say
whatever it is i will be saying
i look in the mirror
can a rock star be covered in freckles
i strum my tennis raquet
i put pictures of blue cheer and quicksilver on my wall
leon russell in his top hat leering off my wardrobe
in the darkness of those years
me n fernando drive round canberra trying to crash parties
we buy galaxy cigarettes and jam in peoples garages
5 guitarists all plugged into one amp
the drummer called mark
hes got a pretty sister who goes out with tony haze
whos in a real band
i feel important just standing in their backyard
out the back of the garage is a little room put on
we lounge around in there smoking cigs n reading magazines
i just found beard of stars in a record shop
and in one of marks sisters old teen magazine
is a story on bolan
hes sitting in some english garden on a summer day
far from wintery canberra n my thick jammin’ pals
who love the blues but not the rock like me
they aspire to denim n beards n long solos
but now ive found marc bolan i’m beginning to see the light
i gobble up the article
i read n re read it
he looks like a homo says fernando
my mother would hate it if i looked like that
said my half spanish half irish friend
but i didnt care
we went back in the garage
and tried to play some dismal savoy brown blues
shes got a ring on her finger n a ring thru her nose
sang the boys
but they had already started to lose me
i went home and i listened to bolan
his effeminate warble did not seem to disturb me
he was like a faun come to this dull world
and he sang of marvellous things
but he was starting to fuse it to this chuck berry simplicity
ah here were the twelve bars that fernando n angelo n mark loved
but not as some moaning boring old whinge going on n on
but as sprightly ramped up n declarations of intent
not the old i woke up this smornin’ n baby was gone stuff
see marc didnt see the contradiction between myth n modern
he just put it all in there
but you knew in yer heart
that in the dark
marc bolan could please the ladies
more than some old grunter singin’ the interminable blues
bolan wasnt all caught up in no paying yer dues bullshit either
he fused narnia n rock n corinth n berry n dandy n delicate
he finished songs on strange ominous chords
he had a song called the wizard
and at the end
he was screaming
and his guitar was distorting
and this little orchestra arranged by t visconti
is jamming along
and it was like being at a dionysian rite
(if you were 16 n lived in canberra)
a little later that year
i was sitting in a chair at a party
when some incredible song came on
it was the first time i had ever heard” get it on”
wherein the imagery n berry n sleekness
all came together
in the most perfect song ever
no one had reassembled rocks ingredients like this before
childe, bolan had a number one hit mentioning
the teeth of the hydra…
can you believe the significance of that to me…?
at the same time as i was hearing this new rock amalgam
a girl i’d never met before sat in my lap n began kissing me
this must have imprinted something on me i guess
rock became my mainstay n everything else seemed a waste of time
why did i need to mow the lawn or go to school
when there was rock…?
and all i had to do
was spin the record
and there was marc bolan
ready to take you off to some super eleusinian woodland scene
full of elvish babes and silver plated electric boogie on
and everyone there spoke in mystic poetic jive lingo
and everyone was high on love n magic
and the guitar was king
but always a little strange
like a grimms fairy tale all gone wrong
and bolan drove round in a roller
and he was a millionaire
and mickey finn was the first guy
i ever saw wearing that t shirt that said cocaine
instead of coca cola
and i didnt know what cocaine was of course
but it had to be better than getting bullied at the lyneham shops
by some teen neanderthal in a flannel shirt n his jeering flunkies
i knew in bolans world i would cut a cool figure
but out here in can-fucking-berra
things were bleak n dead for a cat like me
people in canberra in 1971 could not grok a proto-genius like me
it was a crucible to forge my identity in
in london or l.a.
i woulda been a dime a dozen
but here in the a.c.t 2602
i was at the centaur of my own uni-verse
i sat at home
i deconstructed bolans every last whisper
every last bubble of phased distortion
his pronunciation
his choice of instruments
i figured him out
and i figured myself out
and i figured out
that i WAS right
and all them planks in canberra in 1971
were wrong
and i would
aided n abetted by rocknroll
escape canberras tedious monotony
and escape the sludgy seventies
and in 1982
i materialized on a stage in london
at a 2000 people sold out gig
and i actualized my understanding
from the humble beginnings in a garage in dickson
i had sussed out a masters style
and just as he did
i was reapplying it for my own schtick…
in 1982 i visited the tree adorned with flowers
where he died in 77
all that to end up here….?!
bang a gong

is it love that makes us rock?
oh i love rock
oh i love love
oh i love drug
lets see now…..
i see baby tapping her feet to the beat
i see her eyes flash
i see lava
elemental right to rock
igneous pop
i love it when the guitars are crunchy and marine blue
timpani rolling in like waves now
the fire that burns underwater
the fire that flames in neptunes green glass
the fire that warms old lucifers slippers
then you must harness yourself
the grind of the great wheel
the planets strain at the bit depth
who can unleash them from their courses
who can channel england
who still has a bus ticket from lemuria
who can rock like a bitch then sleep like dog
my rock is my contradiction buster
i aint afraid of no paradox
i perceived i penetrated and i pissed off
i am animal i am soul
i am obsessed by rock n roll
grow up…i cant
slow down…not me
act your age…..never
what will you do…i will rock
what will you sing…the body electric
what will you say….thank you
what will you expect…nothing
what will you incorporate…everything
yoga and rock….hand in glove
does yoga make us rock
does swimming make us rock
does qi gong make us wok
i reckon achilles was a rocker
young n glorious n golden
dipped in a river of heroin
wielding a gibson les paul
fucking with the “straights” all over the aegean
quarreling over a chick with that old agamemnon
he turned up at troy with his sound and lights
he slew em baby
he brought the house down
live fast he screamed
he reached the chorus ablaze
he hit hades town like a flamin’ wraith
boogalooing in the elysian fields with some sexy ghosts
you see rocknroll is eternal
it was re-discovered in the 1960s
fender basses were dug up in south american jungle temples
those cats down in peru were banging out their 12 bars
chewing their coca leaves n stumbling thru louie louie
one million years ago some giant in africa
some winged love god blazing away on a hammond organ
of course he was
rock permeates all times n places
bolan told ya bout the ballrooms of mars
i told ya bout the statues of sharon stone
i told ya how the killer was on the road
yeah thats when i stepped thru jims mirror
yeah i met brian jones there too
and he gave me his blessings as he wanders unseen
through the eucalypts and sycamores
i hang out in laurel canyon with hannibal barker
and he is a savage gutter rocker
he keeps singing in phoenician though
and the child bride sacrifice is somewhat over done
makes me wanna pick up my own plank
and thump away beneath the surface of treble
makes me dream of genie
makes me dreamaround
makes me dizzy with rush
makes my moodswing velocitize
makes my devonsheer t
makes my equal oppa-tunity
makes my resolve harder
makes my green sea go turn a deeper blue
ballerinas guys on motorbikes
a dancing baby elephant
the whole she bang
i wanna conquer some dark continent
i wanna go electric at newport
i wanna hang with the red baron backstage in london
i wanna listen to mozart tuning up
i wanna see genghis khan punch out europes lights
i wanna see vivaldi fire liszt for being stoned again
i wanna see billie holiday on vacation
i wanna score over at scott n janis joplins
i wanna jam with nero at the imperial
i wanna fiddle about with that crazy god-king
i wanna redeem my soda bottles in a gomorrah 7-11
i wanna rock and then i wanna roll over easily
thats enough
thats enough for one day
one wonderful day
day of wonders
everydays
anyday

music….
what is it….
what does it mean to write a song…
the way it all fits together
first there was just a bass guitar
boom boom boom boom boom
it was going
it was pumping eighth notes
nothing very hard
there was a slight anticipation
it was relentless yet a bit sloppy
it sat on its 3 or 4 notes exploring nuances
from out of nowhere white noise appears
its being filtered
it wriggles and pops in time with the bass
snatches of conversation
short wave
pink distortion
movement barely tuned in
the tick tick tick of machine
the drums flail in
bang bang bang bang
electric guitars appear chop chop slam crunch
electric guitars in reverb and echo
like whales wailing
like women weeping
like animals crying
sirens inside a fog
push and push
burn up and disappear
cherish and forget
the instruments work upon each other in synergy
thunder crackles and threatens
electrical disturbance city in the jungle
a piano tinkers on a cavernous emptiness
the bass ominously growls
it swells to mingle with the thunder
the bass swallows itself leaving shards of splintery scrapes
another piano teeters through the background
drunk or falling apart
all sound slows down and elongates
cymbals whistle on into infinity
the piano grows ghostly choirs
things zip past
things in agonizing slowness
all moving towards inevitable silence
that waits at the end of any piece
silence like the songs picture frame
another song begins
another picture in the gallery
a voice sings some words
it doesnt matter what they are
it doesnt matter whose voice it is
everyman sings his own songs
the voice picks up rhythm n assumes a metre
the voice punctuates
it floats over the top
it is apart and a part
voice and music
a marriage of convenience
the voice modulates and drones and intones
the music swells under it and drops away
echoes flurry away and hurry along the grapevine
why does it
why does it do what it does
who decided that it would
it has no meaning only follows internal logic
it does not say what it is
does not announce itself as fact or fiction
the snare fits in the place the kick isnt
the hi hat keeps going regardless
the bass finds the kick
they combine
a melodic punch that hits you in the guts
the voice splits into a pair
something smashes like glass
is this even music
when does music become noise
at what point can noise be called music
the music is processed edited mixed n mastered
a sonic sheen is constructed
the feeling is left intact
the pump of sex
the swoon of drug
the struggle of man
the elation of life
the darkness of death
the possibility of redemption
all inclosed
all enclosed
a fix for a world in pain

engage
lock on
COMPLETION SEQUENCE COMMENCING
@#DRFgg^%%8h**(jIIUUUpopup=true453^^
UUYGGHH%%%4#dee*nnnj(UJU%*$#4b8u
painkiller
launching
initializing fix
this be the deep fix baybee
hold it steady
keep a grip on yerself
god said white hippy moses
white hippy moses saying
are you god or a god?
god say nevermind
give man kind painkiller
alleviate mortal agony
BEGINNING PAINKILLER UPTAKE
START INJECTION
give mankind sweet relief
lay it on them man
HOUSTON WE ARE WITLESS
WE ARE ENCOUNTERING TRANSDIMENSIONAL NAUSEA
PAINKILLER TO EARTH WE ARE BECALMED IN SONIC BLISS
william master of space has interpreted the messages from doggie-star
THEY ARE BEGGING FOR PAINKILLER OUT THERE SIR
god says this is your mission
should you choose to except
space is out there waiting son
space needle penetrates song in space
the vein of darkness gives up its starblood
HOUSTON WE ARE UNSTABLE
HMAS PAINKILLER SIR SOS I REPEAT SOS
captains log : DAY 5
behind the veil there is a sea
only entered into chemically
get me kilbey here in fucking person
i cant sir…he’s been all shot up
HOUSTON WE SEEM TO BE SUFFERING BEATIFIC HALLUCINATIONS
good god doctor…how much painkiller has that man had
love missile F 1 11
marine applications
underwater or outerspacer
when you get to the interpenetration…
on these sullen seas
the humble servant of your majesties
KILBEY TO EARTH : send more money
the void aint cheap
HOUSTON TO PAINKILLER : YOUR CAPTAIN IS DEAD
is that what youre suggesting…that i abandon my mission?
no sir…its just that…
well? out with it man!
its just that i lost my virtual virginity to under the milky way sir
CAPTAIN TO ENGINE ROOM : GIVE ME FUCKING EVERYTHING!
for a moment your blood and the painkiller co-mingle
i am i am i am recites the co-pilot the co-pilate
HOUSTON SAYS WASH YOUR HANDS OF KILBEY
in the depths a monster attacked our ship
in the dark heart of oceans space
in shallow pools life was taking shape
monkeys from darwin
painkiller east of eden
and on the 13th day killer created painkiller
and it was good
and he rested
and he said
let there be a crystalline rush
and bee hulled
there was
and white hippy moses was in dialogue with the burning bush
the fire said you will name your fifth daughter scarlet after my hue
the fire said you shall be as a mangy panther to your enemies
the fire said go far from here and give my people a panacea
give them a painkiller!
the thumb increases the pressure
the liquid moves down the barrel
joy is in your sights
ENGINE ROOM TO BRIDGE : valve bouncing in spades, cap’n
a wolfe appears
a filigree diamond filched from a ring
who will win between a wolf and that old panther?
the monster covers us in its tentacles
its huge stinking head rears up to roar in anger
we made the mistake of detonating a dmt harpoon sir
darwin leave that wolfe alone
that christian wolfe, sir?
yes, darwin
and the rosy crucifixion sir?
leave it to banks
HOUSTON : PAINKILLER BURNS LIKE A SPIRIT IN FLAME
i’m dying captain
look homeward angel
forever will last for nothing
file under space travel
AUGMENTING CHORDS BEGIN MINOR 9THS NOW
in next to no-time the mixture charges up your system
it is first felt as weightlessness
it is first experienced as sudden loss
it is first experienced as a sick satisfaction spreading in a warm glow
it is first experienced as a burning feeling at extremities
it is first experienced as an imploding orgasm that steals your heart
it is also experienced as acceleration
a sudden knowledge of nauseating speed
HOUSTON TO PAINKILLER : TOO FAST FOR YOU!!
captain we’re burning up
get me kilbey here , sergeant
i cant sir, i’m sorry…he’s all broken up
he walked through a volcano sir
hes fried
hes blasted
hes only talking to his family
EARTH TO ANYBODY : HELLO?
SOMEBODY IN DEEP SPACE : YES?
GOD : IS THERE ANY REPLY?
god is that you…out here in the black corridor?
yes child
god can i have a painkiller now?
where does it hurt, childe?
here and here and here and….oh! everywhere..
then listen childe
if you love chance-send-ental music
if you love the throb of electrick base
if you desire the sick kick of drum
the cut of guitar
the nostalgic dust of mellotron
the mixed up words the anti-message
the anti-concept the anti-neo
the anti-“straight”
the anti-n-uncle
houston:we have lost our capital letters…mayday heyday mayday
god : and so the weary traveller turns home
good lord doctor use that painkiller man
our boys in the suburbs are screaming in tedium
gods garden was called barbara eden
i am your humble serpent said darwin
jehovahs pick for this week :ITS …….PAINKILLER !
darwin: painkiller
houston: painkiller
dallas : more painkiller
killer: painkiller
polinski: givem some painkiller you swabs!
spaceman powles: painkiller….uh huh
graham lee: let it slide evilly
william master of spacetime: i am your master
shortwave transmission begins here
aliens: painkiller
denizens of parallel universes : painkiller again n again
its official
coming soon
depending on what you mean by soon
muse: do i get a line?
no!

terrible dreams of airports
terrible dreams of saying goodbye n feeling like ive gone mad
restless toss n turn over
terrible dreams of squeezing through tiny holes
and runnin’ from the cops
dreams of time stretched out like a painful ribbon
dreams of crying and missing and impossibility
the killer awakes in a cold grey day on the otherside of Mirror
killers skin dry n cracked like a snake
he howls low and long on the frosty stairs
he prevaricates too much
all the instruments cannot be tuned
all music is discordant on otherside of Mirror
where nightfriends live
unending tasks never fulfilled
unending journeys never taken
cos time runs sideways like crabs
the ocean shrinks from the moon
the moon is seldom seen except on todays
the moon has a gruff voice
the moon with its favourites
the moon with its awful fetishes
the moon with its affected limp
the moon who laughs like a fop
i float uncontrolled towards othersides neptune parade
the shops are all open but the hearts are all closed
the otherside of Mirror has a special on flukes
but i buy a hoax ticket and a packet of paradox lights
the customers have eyes in their hands
the emporium takes you in by osmosis
you buy some products you’ll never use
handing over black money and silver bones
police are everywhere in anterior positions
someone monitors your memories
hidden before your nose in obvious secret
the killer smashes away at the light
he’s trapped in the morning as if in amber
he struggles in spirit mind and body
he’s persecuted like saint dog
the aliens arrive from outer myspace
hounding fiending demanding something unavailable
dont eat me screams our killer
but who would be listening?
the window shoppers seem glassy
the rubber salesman slumps deflated
the sex shop man smiles stiffly
surrounded by wankers reads his t shirt
surrounded by idiots reads the teachers t shirt
surrounded by the stars reads the jailers
surrounded by love reads the terrorists with his 4wds n wmds
surrounded with pain reads the ladies of the night
surround surround surround me reads grant me a favour
killer youve gone mad screams davem whos appeared
he’s been drawn away from his peaceful drawing room dreams
where he listens to ecnaes and loops from inglish evenings
crickets chirrup like sped up 12 str guitars
and owls call in low baritones
from his comfy chair davem feels the killer going under
a tingling vibration permeates davems body
the hairs on his neck stand on ending
blimey he says to mrs m serving the tea
this could be the big one
she gazes in amazement as he slowly dee-materializes
on the otherside of Mirror killer is up to his ego in “straights”
going down slow in an endless swamp of forms and red tape
the taxman holds his head under
the landlady drowns him in rent
the critics lambast him in bile
the carnivores dribble dripping and drip dribble
davem tries to savour the killer
but they stripped the meanings outta his words
they torn the melody outta his songs
back in ingland his wife pumps up the painkiller
davem takes a big hit of it
mainlined into his mainframe and maintained by his mainman
the strains of file under travel emanate from his id-pod
its no use he screams into the inferno
this whole place is breaking up
yes
shiver me timberlakes
the earth itself trembles
the sky recoils
by god …i’m completely immune to pain mutters davem
he wades into the maelstrom
he sees killer going under for the last time
killers face is frozen against the icy waters of oblivion
a long way from the pale young man of 1982
the killers face was lined and tanned and gaunt
his wispy thin hair plastered against his scalp
the years of hard living had sculpted the face with planes n angles
help me he whispered
davem knew what he must do
linked telepathically with his wife back in the real ingland
she had rigged up the output from 1000 id-pods
all playing painkiller at once
the first track outbound restarted
i am iam i am moaned the killer one thousand fold
white hippy moses like an aphid in the roses
muttered davem under his breath syncing up
the force was with him
a thousand basses throbbed in his ventricles
the killers deep resonant voice vibrated throughout his nadis
he plunged in
he wrestled killers demons down
he defeeted the “straights” with veggie sausages
he saw off the taxman with a blast of v.a.t.
thatll teach the bastard he muttered grimly
he dragged the killer out of the marsh
the quicksand of his life
the quick n the deadsand
was he too late?
the killer was barely breathing
davem cradled the noble shapely head
all the painkiller in the world couldnt help
the painkiller…it doesnt work on me…killer gasped
his life was receding in tiny stabs of mellotron playing f major 7th
his life past be four him
his life leading up to now
summon the thousand true fans he seemed to be saying
wasting no time
davem took the sacred microphone from its ornamental box
it was the microphone that killer had used at the venue in 1982
a veritable holy grail among true fans it had never before been tested
do it do it do it kilbeys voice was barely a croak
davem put the microphone to his lips
sing unguarded moment… killer instructed from beyond deaths doorknocker
davem coughed
he calmed himself down
test one two three he said
never mind all that squeaked the killer almost gone
davem focussed
ahem…ok…its so hard finding…
instantly the 1000 true fans of the killer appeared
clutching hundred dollar bills
and paypal receipts
quickly quickly
this is his bank account here said davem indicating a hole in the ground
as each bit of filthy lucre hit the spot
the killers colour returned
eventually he was helped to his feet
and performed an impromptu concert
featuring such favourites as “tormented faucet”
” creosote”
and
“wobble gun boogie”
and even the evergreen ” loada olde tripe”
now practically a jingle in mitrys general store nth bondi….
surrounded by his thousand true fans
killer was cushioned from harsh economic necessity
he basked in their loving glow
he conferred a meddle on davem
for services above n beyond the call of judy it said
then the killer allowed himself a chuckle
life was alright
everything was back to norbal

linjo….my whole family likes that hat
auroras been wearing it and it looks beautiful
im wearing it right now
one loses much heat outta the top of ones head
i learnt that swimming
on a cold day
i’d rather a nice silicone cap
than all the wetsuits in the world
so thank you again…
i see john at pool
now all the hoo-hah has died down
the fact remains that his friend has gone forever
im funny
i never had a best friend
not like that
not one long continuous friendship like john n matts
i could clearly see his deep sorrow today
nothing i could say would change it
today is natalies birthday
i think shes a little disappointed and a little homesick
i should have had everybody have the day off
but i didnt think
it was just business as usual
i went swimmin’ etc
see..im as oafish n clumsy as the next clown
sometimes i dont think….
i ran round bondi junction till i found the only copy of gutter twins
saturnalia
i cant remember the last time i went scrambling round shops
searching for things i couldnt find
i found it in the last lot of “g”s in the last shop
i’d given the chase up almost
i looked through the “g”s
yep
the gnats
the goliath sequence
the gilli-pops
the godlike devils
gumball
oh no
there it was
the last chance
it is fun to try to find things in shops though
the record itself is pretty good
im not totally into lanegan that much
i dig old dullis trip though
i read some reviews on amazon.com
someone said that saturnalia was best record released this century
someone else gave twilight singers first album 2 stars n said it was crap
i read some church reviews
our own tommy tomsen from denmarks been busy
giving out 5* reviews to the church (why thank you)
one guy said he went for a walk when he heard uninvited
other people were arguing over my take on jesus christ
aint it funny though
i think about the guy who hated twilights 1st
saying it was like listening to nothing
i hear it and its like listening to a great fucking record
full of clever poignant words and weird melodies
like a lotta love n thought has gone into it
i read reviews of the church
opinions opinions opinions
ok
i dont write enough about music on here i know
i should rectify that
i should write more of the stuff you wanna read
which im sure is music
after all thats my real job…its true
well tim n i were working on a 17 minute piece th’other day
talk about the churchs own prog rock masterpiece
wow! im gettin’ ahead of myself
i aint even finished the thing yet
lot more words to write n sing
lot more bits of the puzzle to solve
with that long thing sorted out
i have one more piece to do
something called luna which is another strange piece
i heard peters vocal on a piece we all wrote
it was very tuneful and refreshingly simple
some of my things are very wordy n complex
its gonna be a good record!
we are mixing in early june
on painkiller front
polinski called me saying final track mixed n sent on wednesday
then its up to me to figure out how to release it
yep thats right
more decisions i can dilly dally over
i aint even painted the friggin’ cover yet
im doing a contender
its like a playing card king o hearts
(the suicide king)
but with my face
and a marijuana leaf instead of a heart
(DRUGS ARE SO BORING!!!!)
but it isnt finished
but its looking good
maybe i’ll use the vegetalista instead
i dunno
i’ll vacillate till its too late
right here n now
i’d like to apologise to people whove emailed
gmailed
n myspaced me
n i havent replied
i realise im suffering a kind of techno-nervous breakdown
literally the computer is driving me mad
i cant bear more than the hour it takes to write this tripe every day
i am so far behind now it frightens me to begin opening it up
i really cant handle it
i long for old days when there was no net
i could spend 2 hours a day
simply fielding all the mail that i get
some of it important personal n business just being ignored
my tax too i need to sort out
but i cant face it
as it gets further behind
i feel guiltier and it all multiplies itself
aaaargh!
i can never catch up
im sorry
oh yeah listened to shriek soundtrack other day too
yeah youre gonna like that i think
(however wherever n whenever you ever procure one!)
soon simon will start kilbey kennedy n thatll be out as well
a vegan gig coming up in sydney
and something real strange too (but i’ll just be a guest!)
other than that
im trying to paint enuff pics for my xxxhibition
in a small arty town in ohio in joon
so…..
i better go
n do something

inexhaustible fountain
gushing everything from the mysterious source
my memory of memories passed
the secret to all tricks
the graceful one
the explosion of the waters
on the warmest evenings
the twinkling piano i hear it still
on the faintest of breezes perfume lingers
the city shrinks back and the trees scrape its sky
windows all flung open…oh yes!
the birds are singing for me and my gal
the puffy fluffy pinky cloudy clouds just hover there
and aeroplanes fill the sky with the winking red lights
when the moon looks down all beaming and bright
when the cars in the street fade in the night
and the fallen darkness still shines its light
i am waiting waiting
in the arches by ornamental pools
gold scaled carp glide remote and cool
the moon is turning me into a fool
my honey whispers honeyed words
my honey child with her faery ears
my honey child with her hocus pocus too
my sweet thing out on the sweeping scenic lookout
angelfruit peeler
easy enough to sink beneath sleep tonight with you
stay awake whispered the tiny white stars
that monet drew above you
music come forth you declared
and an orchestra struck up loves rhapsody
music yes music
music comes falling from the sky
no human sounds these unearthly strains
no violin was ever bowed could these notes retain
and o’er heaven and earth a great celebration would begin
people rejoice
people sing
people do anything
and angels appeared their hair in flames
with a thousand eyes and a thousand names
signaling the beginning of the games
heralding the new loveliest day
bringing in a gold leaf dawn
a rainbow for my child and i
a soft kiss before we part
and we go

madness threatens me
i know it
i court it
but it cannot take hold
deep inside me
cold stone sober
someone waking up in my memory
someone strong someone good
someone from the olde days
when things were much easier
in a world of pain
my hero incubates numb
he will assume his cloak of deepest dignity
he will guide me forwards
he will see thru my eyes
he will speak in my voice
he will sing my songs in a new loving way
he will show me my path
where is he?
who i was and who i am to be
a real hu-man
i, man who mediates between god and nature
i, man compassionate and resilient
i, man no longer a savage
capable of making right choices
a real clint eastwards
a real matty clyde
dauntless gaunt gun slingin’ sages and wisemen wiseguys
guys who just do it
they dont talk
they dont doubt
they dont second guess every thing
the guys the ladies all love
the guys the children all trust
the guys who take care of business
righteousness and mercy
grace and perseverance
ascetic who disdains luxury
committed to dharma
strong in non violence
except when the evil monsters must be slain
monsters of cowardice and greed and presumption
men addicted to food
weaklings dominated by their bellies and wine
laziness and sloth
vanity must be conquered
spiritual pride will be your undoing
a man must fight to be good
a man must make informed decisions
a man must avoid ignorant companions
a man should have a template
what would christ do?
what would buddha say?
a man must have perspective
a man must learn to listen
a man should love his woman with all his heart
a man must believe in something
i call forth this man who i am not yet
can you change change change at will?
nonetheless i impatiently await him
wherever he is
bubbling under in deep amnesia
i summon him to the surface
i stand in asanas and i feel him stir somewhere
in the power and glory of rock music i ask for response
i look for him in the passage of pastel over paper
i scan the mirror
but he has not arrived
how do you face a void?
with courage
like matt…
a lot of emptiness for people to get thru now
a lot of nothing
a lot of empty pages and empty chairs
we ache for the very thing we cant have
our minds understand but the heart rebels
why dont you, god, rush in to fill this emptiness?
oh god, why is it so hard to find you?
god, i have so many complaints against this world
it could have been paradise
is this then free will?
can i blame thee for the evil that men do?
god why did matt die so soon and like that?
what could have been done or was it ever his fate?
oh god, i beg you for a quick release for myself
you know most of all
i do not have that mans fortitude
his burden was agony yet he bore it with style and smile
his struggle has enriched me beyond even his belief
i am truly humbled
oh and it feels so good
my friend has vanished
but his humanity remains
his big spirit his big heart
this i want
this i covet
can it only be obtained by deep suffering?
then this price is too great…
no wait….
but why must it be so?
so our soul becomes refined
is the suffering necessary to blast away the dross?
good god, we are still your children
please alleviate us of pain and grief
who was this man who passed through our midst?
a bodhisatva
everyman
man of joy and sorrows
you should be proud anyway
this world hurled everything it had and he shrugged
he was connected to something i doubt he could name
my brother says he made a conscious decision to be that way
but i never would have guessed it
sometimes i despair for men
and then men come along like that matt
and then suddenly you realise
but as usual for me
too late
to late
they already shut the gate
you realise your memories of him
that you retained so casually
were nuggets of gold waiting to be discovered
you go back in time
all the times you saw him
how was it you never quite realised that he was…..
something else…
something else again
why dont men of this calibre lead us?
matty would never have bombed civilians or refused asylum
god how sad that the good guys are so rarely in charge
do we need evil so good can exist?
matty was a needle in a haystack
he was a silver lining
he was hope in human flesh
and this was his reward?
there is much in this for me to learn
but i resent it being at the price of a mans life
if you did not intervene then why…..?
but of course
that is none of my business
it is between you and him…
he probably already knows by now
we who grieve for him
while he roams free and splendid
anyway
he certainly surprised my jaded sensibilities
beyond new age dribble
beyond fashion or society
beyond any religion or doctrine
beyond despair almost
the man simply just was
he just was good
he was born good and he got better
listen to me now
oh ive met clever men
ive met talented charismatic men
ive met iggy pop and ive met tom verlaine
ive met geniuses and oddballs
ive met great musicians and cool friends
ive met rich guys with tons of cocaine
ive met promoters and writers and film makers
ive met guys i liked n disliked
but hardly ever
did i meet anyone really good
good doesnt really announce itself that much
or dress up in fancy colours
it so subtle in this chaos of living
maybe i only ever see it once it has permanently passed
maybe that is real goodness though
a seed planted
the seed itself is destroyed by the tree
the tree becomes strong and bears delicious fruit
virtue as its own reward
your own high standard
a rigourous examination of your accounts
dont remain in shadow
look inwards and wonder
let go let go let go
courage the heart of a lion
non attachment the size of ancient india
even-handessness…steady as she goes
be prepared to say goodbye to any or everything
its gonna happen so you better get ready
cheerfulness is not just an act
we should act optimistically because its simply better that way
the philosophy of the pre-emptive strike
is a self fulfilling prophecy of misery
we should let each other be
work on yourself
change yourself…not others
oh you will fail and fail and fail
i do
but now i try
i try to do what i can
whatever i do
i could never be as good as the real good guys
but i can try
keep trying until the inevitable end
thats life really
in a nutshell
sooner or later your boat will sink
you hope its later
but later aint never
george sang about it in “the art of dying”
nothing in this world that ive been trying
can equal or surpass the art of dying
now he knows for sure and matt too
one day we all will
as it should and apparently must be
it is a paradox that matts agonizing death
points a way towards living a better life
yet the fact remains….
hey matty
its true
upstairs is very pleased with your work

may 2
johnnies birthday
his best mates funeral
last night he and i saw iron man at pictures
as a kid i was a marvel comic fan fanatic
i knew everything
i got my little brothers addicted too
and filled my bedroom and theirs with pictures of
the hulk
the sub-mariner
thor
captain america
and yes
iron man
marvels superheroes were a little weirder than dc comics
they were in colour too
when dc were still in black n white
marvel felt more modern and more my style
eventually the tv show came on in canberra
we sang all the tunes
“doc bruce banner
pelted by gamma rays
turns into the hulk
aint he unglamorous”
“namor, the sub-mariner
is the prince of the deep”
“when captain america throws his mighty shield
all those who oppose his shield then they must yield
with a crash and a bash
and bang and a boom
then the red and and the white
and the blue will come through”
ah sweet naivety…..
so i almost feel compelled to see iron man
on one level
john was so hooked on marvel
he collected a whole collection of em
anyway the film was updated a bit
look to cut a long story short
i enjoyed the film …uncouth yobbo that i am
laughing n cheering as robert downey jr
perfect as the dissolute tony stark
gave a few villains what for
saved a little boys daddy
invented a few impossible gadgets
seduced skeptical female journos
and still discovered he loved his faithful secretary
gwynny pal-trout as pepper potts
jeffy bridges is simply splendid as the wicked obediah
look folks it wasnt citizen cane
but it was a lot more fun
even though i will probably never think of it again..
on the music side of things
i am really giving the twilight singers a good flogging in ipod
i have 2 albums by them
both are obsessively good
greg dulli from new orleans….man he can really sing
and the lyrics are very good too
sneering biting passionate dark n devilish
and some beautiful lines too :
“when darkness falls on summer skin
and in your absence i will begin”
“once i was invisible for all the world to see
i travelled through the ether
on the blood of my enemies”
you can see why i would like that
these 2 records growing on me
and then exploded into my consciousness
so now almost anything else i listen to
the twi singers got it trumped…
the music is really really nice too
yes i know i must go forwards n get gutter twins saturnalia
and back n recheck the afghan whigs
i promise you if you like the church
you would definitely like the twilight singers…
its incredibly intimate one minute
it becomes spooky it becomes voodoo-ey
its sexy and slinky and down and dark
its very new orleans to me
in the shadows and light that flee across these songs
in the strange angry and sad and stoned characters
living behind the words
nk has been heavily digging them too
asking for it to be stuck on her pod
i like both albums as much as the other
powder burns is more powerful than the other
its choruses are beautiful surging emotional blasts
its world is underground n labyrinthian
the other one is more subtle more swampy or something
i tell you verily
there is not one dud song on either record
i dont know anything about em
except mr dulli is a little chubbier these days
than when he starred in a beatle pic as john lennon
(which he makes an ironic allusion to on powder burns)
i see him as fellow traveller
these 2 records are 2 of the best rocknroll records you ever heard
trust me!!
hours n hours of listening pleasure guaranteed
i accord all accolades to the twilight singers
the true spirit of rock lives on
oh i’d love to play bass in this band
wow!
thanks markus s for turning me on to them

soon we going to say goodbye to mc
im gonna sing a song
hope i dont start bawling again like in hosp.
trying to sing with a big lump in my throat
i dont want it to be about me
yet i have to sing (his fambley asked me)
so i wanna sing
but i want people to think about him
not me…
and even as i write these words
i know that they will

more tomorrow