The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

eye quack says
you damaged yer jelly my boy
50 per cent chance yer vision will always be blurry in that eye
he takes apart his model eye
and he explains how my jelly is no longer clear but clouded
clouded jelly in my eye
makes things furry my oh my
makes me curse n makes me sigh
clouded jelly in my eye
it accounts for the spots too and the snaky shadows
it accounts for the music that pours into me unbidden
it accounts for the new panther
reborn from the ashes
like a phoenix rising from a river
up from the pavement and into the stars
ad astra as my friend jules caesar used to say
this clouded jelly got me slurring n blurring my furry words
this miasma opaque
this retinal fog
this ” you mean my right eye gonna look like this?”
this its like a tinitus for the eye
a permanent blur
feel like i’m in a play
feel like the projectionist ‘as been drinkin’
feel like panicking….oh no oh no oh
feel like getting real high
like a fly
that you spy
when you die
as you pass by
on your way thru to the sky
you say “hi”
and then
“bye”
dont start me rhymin’ ha ha ha de ha
there goes old rhymin’ kilbey they say
as i dance down bondi road dressed up in my suit o’ words
and i chuck out free poems to the myriads of lil’ kids
who follow me along
chuckling with sheer delight
i come to the sea
the blue sea with my hanky on my head
like les down at bloody ‘astings just after the war
coz after all i’m a pommy bastard after all
that means a little inglish migrant kid
ashamed of my dopey pronunciation
in the land of the aussie he-men
so because of that
50 years later
a bottle of ricca donna explodes its corky
right into my jelly filled eyeball
and
COMPRESSED IT UNBEARABLY
never mind says shiva
open up yer third eye and behold
some other god said yer credit rating is
yoga vs drugs and its a one all draw
no i said crying and running distraughtly thru the doctors offices
which had turned into a dark scandinavian forest
a troll pursued me thru the firs
his breath turning to steam
run doodles i scream to my 2 kids who are there
but i cant see them clearly now
i can only see the left one not the right one
we arent the doodles….we’re the twillies….
i look closely
2 eighteen year old eye-dent-ickles
the apples of my good eye
daddy have you been drinking ? they ask
as i turn around to look for the troll
and the eye quack is there with his secretaries
thank goodness man he says
as a helicopter lowers down onto the roof
someone slips a needle into my arm
and i feel some narcotic ooze fill me with its slime
they help me into the helicopter
i’m all helpless
like clouded jelly
like blancmange all vanilla and wobbly n bobbly
i sit in my seat like a good boy
as we lift off from bondi junction
and out over clovelly and then out to the wild grey sea
from out of the sky
comes a white hot solid gold thunderbolt of lightspeed lightnin’
it penetrates our ship like marlon brandos knife thru butter
it pinpoints my eye
and it enters my head so damn slowly
my brain at last hotwired to the sky
i explode in a kind of orgasmic implosion
that sends bits of me to the far flung regions
beyond the reach of your puny languages
what do you know? i’m not mad
i’m an alien saviour with a rocknroll message
i’m a reincarnation of dante with a fender base
i’m a rhythm breaking fool with that non ending spool
the light spake to me
just like zara thruster
yeah it said
one word
it
said
ROCK!
no way i said
it cant be that easy …
but….
yet…
ROCK! the light commanded me again
will my jelly get better?
will my butter get jolly?
will i haul my decks with howls n brollies
JUST FUCKIN” ROCK spake the light
jesus de luz
jesus de luxe
jesus d christ
you see
the light was jesus
and jesus was saying
ROCK!
but whattabout my jelli jesus ..i moaned thru the cyclonic hurry-caine
do you need yer jelly to ROCK? the sun of man asked
no ….i said
but what about….
i realised i was in a hospital bed
a drip up my nose
a drip up my arm
a drip up my ankle
drip drip but never drop
my mum n dad sat there looking concerned
mum had something on a plate
it was crimson n it wobbled
its your jelly son they said
oh no i said falling backwards into anaesthesia
deep and warm tho it was i wandered in its semi oblivion
half blinded
my ears still ringing miles above on the outside
where i suddenly pushed up from the sea bed
and burst thru a silver surface
and i truly clambered into the sky
steering by the cloudy jelly like clouds
my cameras filmed away thru their vaseline lenses
i was a free spirit
i was a swimmer in a vast sparkling pool
i was surrounded by music all of it so magnificent
it would make our grandest symphony sound like a squeak
jehovah appeared in his glory
and he was like …glorious…
and angels
everywhere
olive trees
grapes
trellises flowers
new eden
lemuria
its all connected up says old jehovah
and he smiles
and i say
errr…what about my jelly jehovah
and he says
go forth and rock yer best
and come back n see me soon
i descend home with a police n angel escort
heavens devils
and i wake up
here
typing away
and still i say
what about my freaking jelly?

that night i dreamed
i dreamed i was a musician
some strange old slightly special musician
although i didnt feel special
out of favour with the times
banished from the courts
struggling through some heavin’ land
setting up in dark suspicious places
we played to the riff raff n the hoi polloi
we played to the professors and their ladies
we appeared before the kings of baltic states
we were in ballrooms and beer rooms
and we made our sound in a house of ill reproof
but a voice said
a voice in another place
a time not before or after but hyper-during
while you read this line
in that other time
things may be faster or slower depending
this voice
it told me what i should do
and it said
you must play
the fetters must be smashed
you must make your music harder and softer
the intervals must seem like chasms if you want em to
you must concentrate on every line never rushing ahead or behind
you must see each story unfold as you sing it
you must enjoy it everytime
lose yourself
forget yourself
immerse yourself
refresh yourself
can you rock like a king? the voice asked
can you rock like a snake or a lark?
can you rock like a bitch/bastard buttkickin’ whatnot?
can you be tender like the inside of a loveletter
can you be you you you you
i took my axe
someone said
hey you
when you goin’ on?
i shrugged n indicated my mates
they all shrugged n indicated me
ok i said
we strode on and the people clapped n whistled
some of em rushed down the front
some called out individual names
i ran on n plugged in
the sound of a huge mechanical bird taking flight
began to start up
my cohorts hammered at their axes
the audience moaned in surprise
as we started to achieve liftoff momentum
my instrument was a pulse
a beacon in a maelstrom of sturm und drang
the shiver of thin pieces of metal
their vibrations shortened and lengthened
a heartbeat thudded in the centre
the voice begins to tell me what to do
rock to east it says
now rock to the west
the voice goes on shouting instructions above the melee
and….

im standing there on that stage
the place now empty
a few tired people cleaning up the mess
no sounds echo round n round
someone taps me on the shoulder
c’mon man…we’re leaving now

always some new test
that golden egg
that gift horses mouth
that silver lining
that meal ticket
that loop hole
something niggling you
voices whispering reasons to be unhappy
nothing is ever enough
too much
too little
they are abstractions
they are marks in pencil on a door frame
they are the strangers who rented this house before you
they are the vague faces who will sleep in this room
when you are gone
if nothing means anything anyway
why the anxiety
why the nerves
why the ruining things as usual
i got this old car
and its being driven with the handbrake ON
needlessly
pointlessly
going round and round the circuit du jour
my ears hurt
my eyes ring
the outside world becomes harder to apprehend
blabbermouths n idiots blow it away
namby pambies and brutes all around
the wrong place
the wrong world
the wrong road round
i just wanted…
i just wanted…
i just wanted…
ah i cant remember what i wanted…
i cant remember the joy but i sure remember the pain
i live outta a suitcase
or in some seedy gaffe
i ride in a bus or a van or a cheap modern car
i furtively smoke dope and finger my calluses
i watch the names of the towns go by
i drive and ride and drive and ride
we lurch to a halt in a dive downtown
inside it smells of beer and some sweet aftershave stink
the roadies are all bored
the music is too loud
the crowd clap n go home
i drink some booze n smoke some more dope
LET IT KILL ME THEN
back to my luxury room with its railyard view
and its construction site which starts up at 8
but thats ok by then i’ll be well away
standing at the queue in subway sandwiches to get my veggie delight
and my bottle water thanks and maybe some crisps
in the van we have an argument over what music to listen to
things turn nasty when a c.d. gets reefed out n defenestrated
i have to listen to the same conversation over n over
as the mobile phones in the van pop on n off
the rain glommed onto the windshield like a viscous jelly
great gusts of wind hammer our van
but we argue on n on
into the grey day speeding away across the great plains
and the back steppes
we pull into some graveyard town where they make memorials
we pull out again and try to find the franchises
starbucks muffins crammed down a gullet
more caffeine
more calories
more dull ache in the coccyx
when i get out for a whizz
the floor seems to go on moving
we arrive late
we leave late
we go on late
and we come off late
tomorrow i’ll get woken up early
by a mistaken knock
or a mistaken ring
or by a mistaken world
trying to find me
and then
it will all happen again