The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

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i dont like the old testament it frightened me as a child

a vicious old bishop promising a 7 year old hellfire

a jehovahs witness selling armageddon rags at the door

the israelites a problematical bunch

i mean i started out wanting to cheer them on

but i find them a barbaric brutal slippery stupid crowd

if they are the chosen people i dont want to be chosen

if thats the best old jehovah could come up with

a whinging whining bunch like all the others

why should i be happy when jericho falls down?

or the philistines get their dicks cut off (J asked for this!)

whats it got to do with me these garbled old fables?

its not that i mind them so much in themselves

but silly people interpreting this stuff literally has been a bane to this earth

the popes and bishops have used this tripe to murder you and me

this ugly old hopeless myth of big old nasty jehovah the jealous geezer

has been used to kill and tax and torture and molest us common people

since the day this malarkey was first adopted by the first ever pope

and…have they ever apologised for the murder and mayhem?

no they just go on pretending theyre holier than thou when the truth is in front of your nose

jehovah is a tent god invented by a middle eastern tribe millenia ago in a brutal past

i ask you is this character consistent with your vision of this world and its beauty?

how can a holy book contain such a load of superstitious mumbo jumbo and violent claptrap?

and how can people living in the 21st century give any credence to these myths?

the silly stories and borrowed bits…half of it nicked from other people..it is beyond belief

the dopey idiotic episodes one calamity after another

everything jehovah touches turns to death and destruction and plagues and warts

look what he does to job? does anyone here condone that?

fuck youd be better off under lucifer another imaginary cat

these 2 fictional constructions straight out of a badly written sci fi cheapie

battling it out for our souls…gimme a break!

and you go to hell unless you “believe” in Jehovah the jealous geeza

unless you “believe” in him you will go to hell

well that makes perfect sense doesnt it?

do you “believe” in him?

you better or you’ll jolly well go to hell, forever!

and thats a long time, my little pigs.

And dont go blaming Jehovah for this mess

its all that cunning Lucifer that rascally angel

I mean Jehovah made him and all and knew itd all end in tears

i mean Jehovah could presumably squash old Lucy pretty easy one would imagine

and let the rest of us off the hook

why wait till judgement day…?

on judgement day Jehovah will call my name

or i expect one of the helper angels will:

steven john kilbey eh? tell me. did you believe in me?

um, errr no sorry Jehovah but if…

Sorry son its off to hell with you even though you werent very naughty really

meanwhile

the whole damn thing is so incredibly silly

it really doesnt warrant me wasting anymore time demolishing a cobbled up book of old tent stories

not very good or interesting stories that dont seem to have much morality or anything

i come away disliking jehovah and his chosen people equally and contemptuously

bollocks! i say

the real god is the opposite of all this

he contains every single desirable quality and attribute

this stupid bible has put people off the real god

these stupid buildings with their stained glass miseries

these corrupt and lecherous popes and priests

the disgusting destruction and pillaging of the new world

all sanctioned by this twisted misunderstanding of a load of old stories

this is not god

it is man at his worst

christ was a cool cat and everyone here knows i dig him

why do you have to gild the lily and make him more than that?

its all accretion written after the fact.

made up by a pack of blokes in silly gowns who wanted to control you and me

and they have wreaked havoc on this world with this ludicrous book

good book..?

what good has it ever done anyone?

bye jove

i am the mad poet created from the.saurus and DMT

my mind is a bookshop

all the pages missing

only the titles and pictures remain

oh magical realism the tree boughs

i am a useless genius borderlining stupidity and saga-city

my concentration is shot put there by god

my own sweet private god

god of flowers god of rivers

god of beasts god of peace

eden penetrated by that old snake

i wont make that same mistake

in the formlessnesses  before today

i dreamed i was a man in a forest

i talk with great spirit pervading every single thing

you and i and you and i and you and i and

i walk in glimmering groves for everything is sacred

nothing is disincluded

i am primitive man amped up on future now

i simmer and pop in the glades where aya whispers

i coca leaf and indica and treacly oozing poppy

i working class war locked wizard nowaday powerless

the absence of god makes me cry although god is already there

in the heart of every little fish

in the heart of every little stone

your world is sin phoney and out of alignment

your holy books are full of hate i laugh in their general direction

we are all chosen people but chosen for what?

we chose it all ourselves

god is very kind he says

go ahead be steve kilbey

go ahead be john h citizen

go ahead be a fucking water buffalo or a black cat

god give me what i ask for

in a secret place

where i cannot myself hear

what it is i ask of my god

god has no pope presiding over torture and cruelty

he has no truck with missionaries spreading stupid stories

everyone has their own story

my story is my forest and my god and someone i was a long time ago

when i moved through these trees i see before me in a reverie glow

my head outlined in the fires shadow

my feet hundred miles below

the poet lionised

i fell such a long way to be with you

my night was a slide

something on the billowing pillows made me drown

my gambit becomes my sacrifice

i lose the game

i renounce the crown

i drove through the rain

i ascend to my chamber hands and head full

the photograph of a magical naughty boy in a field of nude women

wow my clock is beating slow

the thunder was a relief grumbling over the sea

sleep trampled blackness as i go down into the waiting dream

theyre all there waiting for me

i can never rest wherever i am

i run through a jungle night

this is all taking too long

all the drugs have surely burned my brain

why do i run?

who do i fear?

but i’m working working working in my dream

running around fixing everything that starts to break all over again

envisaging mars i trip over pluto

thirsty and tired i am so persecuted invisibly

i meet a lovely woman although she is just a dream

sweet woman take me in please take me in

yes she is a foreigner and she beckons aloofly

i cant get a fix the smoke will not come

i’m so busy my legs are so aching

i run and i go nowhere at all

i struggle and moan caught in an unseen chain

the nectar boils over

the sweet honey love maker has gone

i know a word to say to get me out of this room

i try to remember the word and i try many others

i can never capitulate

anxiety pursues me with its nameless shadows

the numbers come up

the credits omit my names

the centuries roll on burying us under them

everything i said was true or coming true

look no further

everything you see in front of you

is me

mesquite roulade

gazelle i can tell youre sad

the world has been bad to you

it clipped your delicate speed

my steed indeed

wandering west minstrel

the falcon at your behest now astride your breast

the herald of arms

your plume calms the entire empire

columbine supine i speak of jesus at the well

i could not tell his hands were so like my own

the nail the finger the palm overhead

plunging snake neckline like magdalena obscura

hemmed in by horizons and sea bed

great god who moves within everything

great god who moves outside everything

a storm blowing through the tatters on the line

a feeble fist beating on solid iron seam

here where the nimbus salt falls in crystal rain

the whirling fires lift up into the sky

a lion roars on main street

there is a whisper curdling in your phone

in the static you will decipher the cypher of the drone

god is speaking everywhere at once

his voices drown out the silences an ounce

…before the bounce

across my desk

when the unthinkable happens and the earth flies off its course

we go careening through space taking our bad atmosphere with us

cities spin round on whirling tectonic plates

great criminals escape their madhouses killing every path in their one

the dislocation of the oceans and Miami and Odessa collide

we the lamb-killers pray for mercy but the sky is upside down

we who slaughtered the trees find no shade

we who mined the deep dirt find no hole will swallow us

your bible and your jehovah have remained mute for 2000 years

but you used these stories to justify the killing of things

i am ezekiel now and i predict a torment without end

fear and anxiety and  great upheaval

in my head i saw a vision

a man with a thousand tongues spewing blasphemies

each curse uttered shattering the stars themselves

he strides through this land offering you deceit

come he cries we must make a great war

only through war can mankind be purged

our enemies are endless

their plots are manifold

we must strike and strike and strike

we will bring a civilisation to these brutes

unchain the hyaenas on them

unleash a flood of misery

bring on fire that burns and does not stop

the giants hands rummaged around in buildings

flinging the screaming occupants to the buckling roads

vicious winged lizards filled the air and made vision impossible

no sweet child or lovely thing could be saved

drunk on the underground oil of the nations

the rancid breath of the slaughterhouse clogs earth’s lungs

we shalt have more jails

for all our new prisoners

we shalt have hooks and knives and harpoons

we will probe the inside of the mind and discover new crimes against man

in humanity’s name this jungle shalt die

all its animals will burn

all its secrets will be revealed and dissected

and then the hideous one cast his single bird eye towards me

there was no hiding from its penetrating gaze

and it pulled out all my dreams and memories and cackled in delight

in its mocking scorn and its wicked trespasses

but what did i do ? i whispered as it devoured me

swallowing my life and nullify all hope

what did i do?

and its voice came from very far away

and now it was soft and sad

and it said

you?

you did nothing

aum

a seer with impaired visions

a corrupt trumpet of half truth

an anterior temple hidden in the rain

the dripping trees the ripening grapes

the murmuring clowns waiting in the garden

the machine like chirp of the birds outside said verlaine

the hieroglyph inflicted on the pond water skin is in Gentian blue

the stain of the pattering rain is pierced through the hide inside the water

the undulating curve of the sunken arc submerged in shallow pool

the arrows of the deluge infused with confusion and disinclusion

the spears and lances who took your advances for retreat

in afternoons of salted caramel sanded rock and road

the drizzle of autumns second day swallowed up everything

and we sleep