The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

brick layer

saturday night by the sea

the specific ocean

the briny depths

people roll in in waves

coming in for the night life

the night clubs (in spades)

the cafes n eateries

cashed up revved up

saturday night by the sea

families from the west lie about on the lawns

whales appear out near the horizon

cars cruise up n down neptune blvde

my falcon snorts and dives into the valley

the apartments blur by with names like seabreezes

and thetis court

and new hastings house

and the pubs open up the booze and verily it doth flow, my man

ten thousand pissed yobbos heads full of victoria bitter

and girlfriends sipping wight whine

and the high heels clacking down the footpath

waiters scurrying around with menus and wo-menus

and kids suck down vanilla milkshakes n bottles of coke

and the sea gulls come in for a showdown with the mynah birds

and the pigeons go round n round in the teaming air

and the cops jump in n out of their cars outside the station

could be a big night , constable griffiths

could be a long one, constable jones

iffy guys in tracksuits on their mobiles arranging pickup n delivery

i told ya no more credit…!  one em hisses into his phone

bouncers roll up their sleeves

tattoos abound

cigarettes and aftershave

complaining kids

dudes on their skateboards charging thru the crowds

a thousand ipods a’blasting

a thousand fingers a’texting

a thousand ring tones filling the air

surfers run along in their rubbery wetsuits

hoons in their lowered nissan skylines flood into the intersections

parties kick into life hesitantly at first

the crescent moon hangs there in the sky

sunset turns to a dirty polluted orange

people buy chocolate n energy drinks from the convenience stores

money changes hands

people kiss

people curse

people all alone

crazy lost souls stumble loose out amongst it all

a tentative spring seems to be arriving but its still a little chilly

my kids are s’posed to be cleaning up their room

nothing much happ’ning tho

they do anything to avoid picking their stuff up

my kitchen table is covered in plastic giraffes and books n hairbrushes

cameras fruit headphones dental floss

salt n pepper

pencils n pens n computer paraphenalia

the dishes have been done

the light begins to fade

i gotta learn my lines for the play

i feel kinda cold but then i always do

i feel a bit melancholy but then i always do

i feel a bit alone/aloof/ out of all the loops

i feel like i am not the only one

who feels like the only one

the sky turns pale violet

a plane comes in right over our roof

the birds still calling

as night is falling

its twenty to six

the kids make so much fucking noise i move into my bedroom to finish off my blogge

i keep saying ssshhhh! but they aint taking any notice

in my room its messy as per usual

clothes n books n stuff strewn about

i gotta learn my lines

i gotta know em off by heart

i gotta do some work but i feel disturbed but i always do

wish i felt safe

wish i felt warm

wish i could stop wishing for things

ooh sorry i ruffled all those feathers before

cant stand it when everyone gets angry with me

somedays ya cant pull a trick

shoulda been a monk somewhere tending to my roses

shoulda been a lighthouse keeper alone in the darkness of some bleak coast

shoulda been a long distance runner pumped up on endorphins

shoulda been a popstar surrounded by adoration ha ha

anyway i guess this is enough

my widget word counter says i typed over 600 words so there you go

its sat’day nite by the sea

its bloody bondi beach, aint it…?

yeah sure

yeah thar she blows

yeah cool

yeah ok

nighty night

piano forte ad astra nauseam

rainy rainy day here

wherever here is

its all an illusion

we are all interconnected

we perceive all this difference

maybe thats all bullshit

why listen to me

i got my ulterior motives i got my agenda

i got my whispering voices

i got my fears my prejudices my unreason

i got my nescience

i travel through time

i travel through space to my celestial sanctum

its a beautiful cathedral

no its a moonlit night in the arcadian forest

see the satyrs dancing on cloven hooves

see the dryads boogaloo as they leave their trees……

no, my sanctum  is a hindu temple carved in sanskrit aphorisms

i worship the great god vishnu lord of this universe…..

no it is a gentle garden where i walk with christ

oh what a profoundly beautiful evening

oh my jesus what a lovely cat….

the 21st century intrudes

i am a white bearded poet tapping on a computer keyboard

life slips away in drips n drabs

credits n debits appear on my screen

yama somewhere making his calculation

st peter at the pearly gates snorts in derision

kilbey ….? you gotta be joking….

hades doesnt even look up as i arrive…

he stamps my passport and looks at my visa under his ultra violet doo dah

out in the street a car beep beep beeps

a kid yells out in the house next door

my script lies open at page 47 which is still unsigned

in my bedroom with my clothes lying all around

my black jeans my black shirt my black undies

frankincense burns warding off them old evil spirits

everything happ’ning on these levels :

physical

mental

etheric

chemical

electrical

spiritual

and a load of others i cant even imagine right now

all energy comes from the sun

i before e except after c

verbs are conjugated

nouns form declensions

an oblong n a rectangle are the same thing

there are 7 types of ambiguity

a bass guitar is tuned E A D G

gouache is a kinda opaque watercolour

pat benatar said love is a battlefield

george harrison said i’d have you anytime

lou reed said heroin…its my life n its my wife

mel gibson said @#%$$$#$**&^%% n who can blame him…?

my mother once said  serves you right you bloody pig (after i ate too many cherries)

the clock said tick tock tick but never tock

the rain keeps a’fallin’

my play remains unlearnt

i cant concentrate with all these thoughts fallin’ like rain

with all this rain fallin’ like thoughts

glad i gotta roof over my head

glad i gotta head over my brain

glad i gotta brain in which to house my rolls royce mind

glad my rolls royce mind can dream up all this but wont/cant remember a few simple lines

glad i got kip n johnny c on my side in texas

fuck it i remember the alamo

n i remember thermopylae as well

i remember carthage too like i was there only yesterday

i had a carthaginian wife and those roman bastards killed all of us

i remember rome too we played there in 1986 didnt we

we drank red wine n ate prima vera con funghi n ploogy made everyone laugh

i met an italian girl n it was like she was out of the decameron or something

but the air assaulted me with its memories and i remembered other voices

cars slosh thru the rainy streets

the kids are watching tv

a toilet flushes

a light comes on

a fridge switches off

a plane flies overhead

my digestive juices do their gig semi autonomously

2 absolute fuckwits are vying for the job of aussie prime minister

one is an ugly awkward woman with a stupid accent

she dont believe in nothing except getting re-elected

shes got as much charisma as an used band aid

the other one is a silly little git whose a bit of a religious ratbag

hes a cocky little sod n heaven help us if he gets in

i cant stand either one n i wish theyd give me the fuckin’ job

at least i can play bass guitar and know what an oblong is

i’m prettier than her too with my lovely jawline

and i can speak english much better than both of em

he’s pretty fit for a politician but he didnt write utmw did he?

sure i had my chequered past but now i am re-formed, aint i?

still the rain falls n falls

i just ate some banana bread

i got a bit of a sniffle

i got a bit of a headache too from squinting at this friggin’ computah

you got your  troubles i got mine

i had some sour cream in my chili tonite so i’m a useless vegan

i’m going in for my second bout with the vine on thursday night

yeah thats ayahuasca to you smart ass…google it if you dunno what it is

i got some energetic block n i cant move forward

a good friend suggested i get back in the ring with the vine thing

i know i gotta vomit all night

i know i gotta shake n sweat n shudder n moan

i gotta get this all out in the open

the vine aint no drug it aint no kick it aint no re-creational malarkey

the vine is the power n the glory n i know its gonna set me straight

its like goin’ to the dentist

my fucking psyche needs a route canal, pal

i gotta swallow that suite medicine , man

i gotta get rid of all this bile, childe

but tonite its rain rain rain

the arse end of winter

cold in the pool

hot in the sauna

no billy today or his streetwise sagacious advice

for breakfast poached pear n rhubarb n muesli n soy hot chocky

coated my dry skin in shea butter …go on google that too

its from afrika you know

it 7 now n its dark n rainy

should get back to trying to force that play into my head

2morro i got rehearse n dont wanna let the side down

i bet everyone else knows their part by heart

ok i better stop now

get it together despite this inclement weather

aloha then

thats it……..

palmistry

different worlds different times

i take off all my close

just need one small in

just a title perhaps (mr)

just a hint (youre getting warmer)

other lives other voices

some invisible hand restrains me

some quiescent voice in my white hart deer

my crimson blood looks blue thru my veins

my tape recorder revolving round n round

its 5 to 11

i get nothing done

online beckons

feint preys  retreat almost exstinct

the first night without you watching over me

crackle of energy

discharged into the outerworld

back beaten track

black sheet of crack

taken aback

the wee small ours

i play every part

upload/ insert

draft edit remove

this cannot be undone

weariness

ugliness

seeing things again

tiny glitches in continuity  of yer reality

i tried to publish this a hundred times

but my keyboards just typing out weird bullshit from magnetic bedlam

i’m trying to learn my play but the words wont stick in my head

if you wonder what all those slashes are its my computers stuff

which once written it refuses to delete

oh well this is a far cry from saturdays blogge

take the ruff with the smooth you readers

once

i get this problem

fixed itll bee full stream ahead

stream of  (un)consciousness that is

much love

premium kilbey coming soon

hi kip n john

sk   y///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

me me me me me me me

ok

the poetry flows thru my mind to my fingers

a solid stream of words carried by electrical energy

created in some invisible place between my mind and my flesh

a mysterious process no one can understand

a tap is turned on and the nouns n verbs come

adjectives rush in to fill the gaps

all my memories n impressions go round in a vortex

random generator plugging spaces in various sentence structures

a meta console a furious storm a snapshot of someones face

being born moving towards the light

i dream i see a great deluge fall upon this world

i dream i see zebra patterns of sand streaked across my vision

i dream i see summer dressed in aquamarine materialize from the churning sea

poseidon rises from the green depths with a great roar of triumph

ilium in flames

lightning shoots through cretaceous  skies

we are bits of star

death renders us dumb

music plays under the waves

the blue wales a swansea morning

under milkwood under burnt oak

under myrtle sacred to aphrodite

god comes down to fuck mortal women

he doth find the daughters of men comely

mermen on the rocks plucking fender strats

shattering the balmy palatial antarctican spring

everything anything manything

the next line pops up

i already forgotten my life in nineveh

i had a house with a pool and a little garden

i walked to school in the tender sunlight

rose incense lit by nepalese fingers

in the pale days before ashtaroth deserted her temple

i dream i see me as i really am

forever both male and female

walking with jesus on route 66

walking with jesus to see the stones at the mammoth garden

jesus and krsna strumming E 9

jesus with such a great haircut

krsna jamming with his breathy flute

deep in the indian night

the lovely birds coo and warble in the aromatic arabian  dusk

open sesame for the alley barber doing shag cuts for demi gods

two little zip bags expensive white crystals

crystalline rush of my love holds sway

shiva with the ganges in his hair

adam n eve kilbey by the euphrates river

a fox appears by the edges of a field of visions

i dream i swim in cold clear salt water in which i breathe

gills and fins spring from my torque

i am a fish i am a car  i am a metallic bird

i am falcon i am panther i am w.h. moses

i dart thru dreamskies defying zero gravity

i strap on my bass as big as ceylon

the first note is earth

the second note is ether

the third note is sea

the fourth note is silent

my bass is my staff which is charged with cosmic mojo

my bass is creating universes which flow away in radiant concentrics

my bass summons baal n zeus n some distracted lucifer

lucifer plunges burning n screaming thru the blue morning air

its saturday

the shops are all open in the underworld

i buy some powdered nepenthe from ms gypsy fire

i buy sister/lovers on 8 track cartiledge

i swarm down from valhalla with my unicorn and lion

i tread lightly on cloud and tumble through the mirror

i welcome the age of aquarius from my yacht on sydney harbour

fireworks burst apart new years eve as we love on the balcony

i’m in a film about a film about a film about that actor playing me

i forget my lines and everybody laughs in the orient

zsa zsa gabor takes off her bra and suckles eastern europe

her milk white ass wobbles under a quicksilver tracksuit

quickly quickly the fire ripples upstream

i score a litre of liquid light from the man inner moon

i grunt as i enter elysium and fall headlong onto my feat

i feel around in the opaline darkness of pompeiian evening

jericho gazes at my big trombone

i frisk the cops that flee the implications of entropy

i invite some broad to my narrow digs

my trident logo slowly appears on the black screen

hesius dome downloaded from nep-tunes store

the dolphins swim before our beaked ships heading for ithacan hotspots

siegfried covered in dragons blood invulnerable except for his sacro-iliac

the african woman foams in her trance

everything is naked in its illusion

babylon where the sands drift and mirages graze

robert louis stevenson in samoa walking on a bridge with tim

marlo brandon in tahiti listening to untitled#24

aurora clooney her eyes swimming in her head

scarlet in the riviera grown up and ravishing

elli n minna identical but with differences

i am reduced to riches

the king of wands

the night of swords

the ace of daggers

the prints are ready

the queen of mercury

the jack of hammers

the knave of oblongs

les kilbey smoking a rothmans on d day n playin’ the piano

my mother as a little girl her house all bombed n ruined

london as i wanted it to be in 1967 welcomes me with open arms

in a little courtyard i drink tea with steve peregrine took

back in canberra i relive my choicest memories

my first kiss in my new mansuit i stick my tongue in the nights mouth

i walk down the hall in my old house and lay down on my sea bed

its always the holidays on the otherside

everyone loves me and the women are all beautiful

i pass my exams and i graduate as some famous doctor/lawyer/scientist

i can surf and i’m an olympian athlete with a land speed record

i can fly and swim and move underground and pass thru solid walls

i read your mind and i sift thru yer thoughts

i miraculously cure this world of its troubles

i prove one n one equals aura

wow! zeus digs me and i get initiated into the mysteries at delphi

uh oh it couldnt last …i am hounded from the jungle by lingerie clad nymphos

daybreaks into shards on the way to damascus

is that enough for now i wonder?

how do you know when a poem is over ? i ask andre breton

oh you’ll know…he says and hits spacebar

oh my laptop burns my thighs

i’d better stop now

while i’m still a head

sacre bleu

apparently it seems

in the deep lock of midnight

under the persuasion of  a whispering moon

the solitary minutes before and after

we leave our bloody bodies in dream

spirit souls waft with the lunar wind above earth

tangled cords and jangled nerves

even the high and mighty

even the low and lawless

escaping ourselves anyway we can

in the midst of life we find death

in the midst of hatred we find love

paradoxes metaphors music equations parables

life is complicated

life is simple

you get born

you live for an unspecified period

you die

some too young

some too old

some have terrible tragic lives

(oh god we do you allow this…?)

some get what they deserve

some never get what they deserve

what they had coming

they seem to get off scot-free

some people (like me) get lucky

almost every bad thing that ever happened was at my own hand

born in an affluent time in an affluent land

no war no disease no famine

never beaten molested or threatened

i dream up my own dramas

i create my own chaos

i wrote and directed the film of my life

not as good or as bad as it might have been

i bought a ticket in the pop lottery n i won a minor prize

i got good genes coz my dad was a better musician than me

my mother got me interested in poetry

it was a lucky combo

coz i was always obsessed by songwriting

my parents let me be

left me alone to obsess for long hours in my room

listening n relistening to my favourite stuff

as my analytical machine mind dissected  beatles bolan bowie n bob

i remade myself

i reconstructed what i had

blessed with an obstinate streak i was not naturally that gifted

but i applied myself as the carrot of fame dangled riches women drugs just outta reach

i worked on my vision day n night

forming n breaking up groups

loaning money buying equipment learning my chops

a million jams in a million garages

a million load-ins n load-outs

a million hours on the phone talking it thru

a million reads of a million rock rags

a million rotten songs slowly getting imperceptibly better

a million hair styles and a million changes of direction

yeah i put the work in

but what of the psycho-kinesis of luck

what of destiny what of fortune what of fate….?

what of my intuition that has stood back directing my actions ……

what of the right place at the right time

what of the zeitgeist n my stubborn refusal to bend to its influence….?

a winter night falls after a spring-ish day here in bondi

i’m going in to finish off starlings record now

driving thru sydneys jumbled inner city streets to the university in camperdown

where we have some free down time to record vocals

a long nights session

starling deserves some success i’m sure you’ll agree when you hear his stuff

i have had my little share i guess i should be content

i got my fantastic daughters to carryon in my footsteps

i move forwards into the future

resilient but still pretty dented by my various setbacks

i have some bloody good friends

yeah you know who they are

i have some great players who play with me n work with me

i have you guys who read my rantings n give me encouragement

ok thats it

i’m just taking some stock

i feel ok

i’ll see ya all tomorrow

think of me tonight

slaving over that hot recording console

i love ya

sk

If you missed us live on World Cafe, you can now listen to some of the live performance and banter (20 min 41 sec) via the NPR WXPN 88.5 link below.

Setlist : Pangaea, Louisiana and Already Yesterday.
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=128337385

TimEbandit blog can be found on MySpace with recent news and updates on his projects.

Three members of the church – Steve Kilbey, Peter Koppes and Tim Powles – joined the legendary Jimmy Little onstage at the 2010 APRA Awards to perform Under the Milky Way. Jimmy was awarded the prestigious Ted Albert Award for Outstanding Services to Australian Music.
Jimmy covered Under the Milky Way on the Messenger album in 1999. Watch this very special performance here –
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yx2VPAYjObQ

Steve Kilbey will be appearing at the 2010 Melbourne Writers Festival on the following dates :

Thu 2 Sept – Lyrical: Steve Kilbey, Lisa Miller and Little Miss X – Northcote Social Club at 8pm. Tickets $25
Sat 4 Sept – Songwriter Speaks: Steve Kilbey – Festival Club ACMI at 4 – 5pm Free
http://www.mwf.com.au/2010/content/mwf-2010-standard.asp?name=authors-KilbeyS

A new fantasmagorical Steve Kilbey website has been launched.Click on the link below to explore a whole new residence for Steve Kilbey’s art, music, poetry, videos, the blog and more!
http://www.thetimebeing.com