The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

what a carry on
the more ya think ya know
it means
the less you do
you think you got life sussed, mister?
have ya trapped god in yer test tubes yet?
and you know the age of all the rocks n stones?
and you got it all figured out
measurements
observations
empirical tests
comparisons
alchemy
dr john dee crystal gazing
a tiny angel spoke to him from the glassy ball
what is science?
what is magic?
oh and how we influence the end with the beginning
and the love that holds life in its hands
the weeds containing miraculous cures
the flower which brings slime
what do i know?
say it!
nothing nothing nothing
a tunesmith with 200, 000 miles on the clock
a little rust
a bit slow to start sometimes
here i am
receding into memory
these words already old
my synapses fire
my muse comes floating down
with her arcane words n her golden lyre
what?
you wanted poetry?
for your birthday, a little poem
wrapped up in the tenderest thoughts
sealed with a childs chaste kiss
soft comforting words for you then
about children behind the north wind
and the wizard of boland
and doors in trees
and subterranean caverns full of wee folk
and red spotted mushrooms in green fields
n english woods with humming moss
n in ireland where tir na nog is waiting for ya
behind a thin slither of reality
where no one ever gets old or dies
and wish trees full of golden apples n silver pears
and toy soldiers riding giant fish thru the briny waves
and merfolk singing in the distance on warm evenings
and the chapel of sacred mirrors
and the creatures who hide in darknesses in nurseries
and a day in the garden up in hertfordshire
bees languid drone, yellow jonquils
lunchtimes spent at home in bed when you were a bit sick
the dance of the dust in your bedroom
the school bell softly tolling in the distance
those old books that were brought from england
the gnomes n the elves
the talking animals
the forests n glades with the sentient trees
and marc bolan sittin’ in a field with his les paul
sustaining an everlasting E
while the pixies bop in the hedges
the rhinemaidens n the dwarves
all fairy dust encrusted
cobwebs n pearly dew drops
sing a song of sixpence indexed to inflation, baybee
apollo strings his bow
atlas drugged
ariel the elemental sprite
longing for freedom from its human master
its all coming together somehow
its all ok in here
i’ll make some sense of it later
im underwater now
and its deep
and marine
sk

nostalgia, fiends
aint it a bitch
those long gone australian summers
those times i sat in the mist in a park in balmain
with grant maclennan writing the words for the frosties
those yesterdays kisses n tears
all that water under the bridge
petty ambitions
petty obstructions
all my songs are coming true
full circle
can ya dig that sweet past
reforming itself inside your memory
coiled up and ready to fall out
those hazy super 8 days
so long ago
so far away
where are we now?
we’ve fallen asleep on the train again
oh we must have slept for hours and hours…
and now we’ve woken up here…..
getting closer to my final destination
inch x inch
second x second
stop this train !
i want to get off!
5 years ago today
i wassa sittin in this apt in delaware
when the lady next door knocks on door
n says somethin’ on tv ya might like to be seein’
yeah i aint goin’ into any of that ,dont worry
except to say that things were a little tense everywhere
i remember eve n aurora werent even 2
the train rushes on and into the night
i aint afraid of my destination no more fiendss
i used to be..
it seems like an outrageous thing when yer young
but now
nice to take off this steve kilbey suit
have a rest before i pull some other one on
be someone else for a change
i’ll get a life
i’ll be same old same old but different
go through it all again
chuck out most of all the stuff i learned
its ok
everyone has to do it
is that what makes it almost bearable?
some friends tell me that ian rilen
a real rocknroll character here in sydney n melb
has terminal cancer n hes refused all the chemo n stuff
i dont know what to say..
i guess i can sorta understand ..
i know ian a bit
and hes the real rocknrollin’ thing in spades
hard livin’ hard lovin’ hard fightin’ hard drinkin’ rocker
he writes great songs too
a whole buncha classics he penned
still one hopes ian could be miraculously cured
we’re losin’ a lotta good guys recently..
ian was in a great band called sardine v
and we opened for em once
and they were so good
i wasnt even jealous
ian had a great big suit n a weird guitar
another time ian “accosted” me n grant mc
at the hopetoun pub in sydney
he was trying to lift grants hat up to see how much hair he had
and then he was trying to give me a big beery kiss
we fell over and were kinda strugglin around on the floor
of this gig
and people were saying jesus!
aint that steve kilbey n ian rilen lyin on the floor there ?!
its ok
me n ian are mates
he used ta live up the road from me in rozelle
and i used ta drop in at his little house on my way up the shops
wow ian
you manage to be classy and wild at the same time!
a sorta rough gentleman or something
anyway
christ!
i hope it dont happen ian
but if it does
i hope you slip like a silver drop
into a silver sea
sk 11 9 2006

sunday
bells ring
morningstar
windyday
pavements still wet
fronds of palms blown down
silence in suburbia
no creature stirs
birds still
violent clouds loom and threaten
8 52 is ushered in on a cushion of moments
celestial geometries drone
sticky tape loses its adhesion
pictures and memos droop
feet feel miles away
my tinnitus jams with the oophoi
festible of the winds is on says aurora
the festible of the winds i repeat
she nods yeah
baby meanwhile has turned into child
my green tea and m honey gets cold
i woke up this morning with this blog title in my head
“he who hesitates is lois”
i thought i could write something about supermen
and then i thought
seeing simon and garfucknuckle get mentioned here a bit
of a blog called
minnie, baby and sunday drivers
but that too, failed to materialise
palm trees moving delicate fingers against palest blue sky
a tender damaged blue sky
tentative and scared of the storm
my computer rests on top of my pastel box
im drowning in books n cds n bits of art junk
its an awful mess
it isnt bohemian or groovy
its just an awful mess
im cold
my extremities are freezing
another title i thought of was
bonnie prince charlatan
im certainly a title generator
need a title?
im your man
a title in itself im not entitled to
but otherwise
9 06 has been reached
pinch myself im still alive
we should be on by now
my world telescopes inward
come with me
im shrinking down inside myself
im falling down the rabbit hole
memories on the walls enframed
lazily reach for one as we glide past
its canberra 1964
we have just moved there
we are having venetian blinds fitted
the man fitting the blinds is welsh
he has a soft lilting tone
when he hears that we are new to canberra
he gives my mother some tips on taking the back streets
driving me to the swimming pool
“youll need to go up archibald
until you hit dryandra and then all the
way down until you come to froggart street…”
the way he said the names of the streets
and his sing song tone drives me into a trance
i want him to go on speaking forever
im starting to slide somewhere else
if you can see me there
its almost christmas
ive moved into this red brick house
in a city i never even been to before
we’re right on the edge of the bush
its hot
its dry
i dont know a soul
theres some kids in this street
but i dont really like the look of em that much
theres a park behind our house full of dry long yellow grass
theres a hawthorn tree in the back yard, which is very big
but full of rocks n stones n weeds n dirt
theres ants nests everywhere
my mum at this stage could only have been 36-37
shes standing there in her red mu mu skirt and her hair do
my brother a quiet blond mop of hair
wants to go to the pool too i suppose
the welsh man runs through the directions again
and me and mum follow his finger on the map
” you see
you need to take archibald up to dryandra…”
i wonder how this mans voice produced this effect
was he a magician
if hes still alive now
he would be very very old
i can still see him and hear him
later on that very hot day
mum kindly took me and my little brother to the pool
it was quite an adventure
dryandra street was long and windy
across the road was bush
the unknown
eventually we follow the instructions to canberras pool
my brother and mother go to baby pool
i feel lonely and exposed
another skinny freckly kid with no friends
at a crowded swimming pool in canberra australia
a voice in me says
hey youre not even australian
you should be in some groovy english glade
a real fish out of water
i couldnt even dive properly
i see a girl diving in and out like an otter
and it makes me feel even more sad
shes really pretty too
and has loads of friends
i swim over in their direction
but i feel unwelcome wherever i am
i climb up into the diving tower
but im too chicken to jump off the high one
in fact in all my time in canberra
i’ll never pluck up the courage to jump off that one
later on on the lawn
mr tambourine man comes on the radio
a lotta people lying round with the radio playing
theres only one station 2CA so no problem
mr tambourine man
oh the lyrics
oh the guitars
oh the strangely detached singer singing it
the voice who was complaining about australia
says
now heres something for you steven
something going on here that you could unravel
im sitting here in 1964 december
my mums got these amazing sun glasses on
russells splashing round in the baby pool like a pro
im sitting there getting sunburnt again
i feel fine by the beatles comes on
the first use of feedback they say
it sounded huge coming out of some crackly pa system
i was chewing on a peppermint and chocolate toffee
called a bobby
and eating licorice cigarettes

im so glad shes my little girl
shes so glad shes telling all the world

wow
it sounded like proust in 1964
leave me
sitting there on that crowded lawn
soon to pile into the austin A40
chug home
though it didnt feel like home yet
i was still thinking about tambourine man
and i feel fine
something there for you
the voice was saying
i was beginning to formulate my strategy
i was beginning to take notice
they were speaking a language
i could understand
and maybe
even better
i could be understood
myself

*this is the first in an occaisional installment
this is intended for humourous purposes
please do not sent in anonymice comments
about how “low-brow” i am
i am a philistine rocker with no pedigree
i know nothin bout nothin
this is but a fancy
an attempt to amuse you, sullen reader!
now just put yer list of spurious suggestions down
relax, smile a little
ah….there ya go…
you see its all just a joke….
ha ha
now imagine this
its a long long time ago
thousands of years in fact
ooh its warm…
oh its the aegean sea
this is the story of odysseus
in the sk vernacular
ok ok ok
anyhow
it was the greek mother in law of all wars
the war they had to have
ten thousand ships my children
are you listening up the back there in thessaly?
i wish somebody would tell me the score
greeks 1 trojans 0
but lets check the stats
over to esskaius
yes well
it aint lookin’ good for either side here
i mean we’re talkin the flower of the youth here druid
we’re talkin’ dead sons of gods n all kindsa stuff
achilles gone ajax gone vim gone hector same thing
paris, king fuckin priam, a whole bunch i dunno…
back to you…
so anyhow
the greeks have won
i mean they lost thousands of blokes
but they got miss helen back
i hope shes a real pretty lady
and whatta bout king menelaus
the dude she ran away from
when she eloped with mr handsome
he just takes her back like simpering fool
no “what the fuck! did you see all the trouble you caused?”
nope
within a week shes back in their pad in sparta
layin on feasts for their compadres
and servin’ up nepenthe
anyhow this brings us back to our hero
i see him kinda like well maybe a little freckly
maybe a little beard turnin a little white
medium build , grey eyes, fine brown hair
chiselled features, perfect straight nose
maybe a pair of gold earrrings…
(is this man beginning to materialise in yer imagination yet?)
hes kinda wise n kind n sexy all at once
a musical voice soft n deep
ooh dig his ithacan accent
the way he drawls his epsilons baybee
check his legs
bulging calves
he must swim a bit i guess
anyway
odysseus (for tis he!)
has finished his gig in troy
and needs to split for home
n his darlin little wifey penelope
(a real honey too, by all accounts)
n his little son
telemachus
(inventor of telemarketing)
but wouldnt ya know it!
its been a long ten years
ya just wanna get home n into yer own beddybyes
oh no no o
oh look out
youve forgotten to appease poseidon fer a start
now this poseidon god of the ocean
could hold his breath underwater fer ages
but
the cat held his grudges too
and he seriously intended to chuck a spanner in the worx
no
first of all hes blown all over the mediterranean
(oh lucky him)
he goes to the land of the cicones
i think they were madonnas ancestors
then next they turn up in the land of the lotus eaters
lotus elans, lotus europas, ha ha
no seriously folks
the lotus eaters land sounds like my kinda place
these cats jus’ sittin’ round eatin’ lotus
wow!
thats it?
but jesus
you get a habit real real fast
no wonder lotus is banned in anatolia n arcadia
but recently decriminalised in corinth
for possession of under half a drachmas worth
anyhoo
half the crew of o’s ship get the lotus jonesin’
jesus guys i told ya not to eat too much fuckin’ lotus..
next they hit this island where the inhabitants are giant one eyed monsters
now i could insert a few names in there
but our o called em cyclops
and one in particular called poly phemus
probably angry still cos he had a girls name
n all the other giants’d tease him by singin’
poly put the kettle on
or later they called him poly drug abuse
anyhow
o n his men end up in a sticky spot in a cave
n ole one eyes is back!
this dude takes meat eatin to a new disgustin’ level
hes eating o’s crew
meanwhile crafty o is thinkin
how dja like a poke in the fuckin eye with a burnt stick
cmon that giant had it coming people
but guess what
strings attached!
poly is poseidons own little toddler
raised by his proud dad ever since he was knee high to a hydra
by zeuses golden balls he rages
im gonna fix your little red wagon you little mortal s.o.b.
meanwhile while all this malarkeys goin’ on
back home things aint all that great neither
theres a whole buncha young hoodlums n neer do wells
hangin round tryin to crack on to penelope
a) cos shes a foxee laydee
b) then theyll get the queen n half the kingdom
but the real bad news
theyre treating young telemachus real badde
so he starts channelling the goddess athene
who digs the son as much as she dug the dad
and she starts appearing all over the place
(hey telemachus, you sure you aint been eatin’ that lotus again?)
anyhow teleboy guided by voices
sets off on a wild goose chase all over peloponnese
lookin for his daddyo

meanwhile back on some greek island
our o hassa made good friends with a draughty cat
called aeolus
talk about windy n wild
hes a wind god
a zephyr enthusiast too be sure
a real breezemaker
now he says to o
druid, altho yer just a mere mortal
i can dig where ya comin from
i understand that ya wanna get home
to ya wife n ya kid
so man
check out this little bag of stuff i have here
o looks at this baggie that a is profferin’
whats that….lotus..? he asks hopefully
nope dude, its wind!
o takes the bag o wind and almost blows himself
n the crew all the way home(!!??)
when a cuppla real turkeys amongst the crew
they start goin’
fuckin o, hes keepin all the good stuff for himself…
reckon hes got anymore of that lotus?
you betcha dude, its in his baggie…
anyway these vicious backstabbin faithless pricks
ruin it for everyone
jus when olde o call see his own palace roof coming into view
talk about lettin the cat out of the bag
these idiots unleashed a friggin’ hurricane!
and they get blown all over the place again(!!??)
they turn up at this chick circes island
(everyone had their own island in these days)
shes into some real weird voodoo shit
and she reckons all of o’s crew are pigs
and so it comes to be
but her magic dont work on o
but oh my my
shes smitten by our humble hero
by his piercing grey eyes
n his subtle turn of phrase n ithican accent
“where you from ?she asks…samos?
nope guess
i dunno um argos…? no i didnt think so…marathon?
anyhow
she takes him to her chamber
she drops her clothes
o singin’ she IS a witch but i like the way she twitch uh huh
she lays on the bed and says
get it on!
bang a gong
get it on!
he says lady if ya wanna be my lover
you better turn my pigs back into homeboys
she says druid its a done deal!
anyway after a while
in the afterglow one night
circe says oh o my lovely lover
you should go down the underworld
see if any of them shades cant get ya home
thats enuff for o
hes straight down that river styx
hes down there where the sun dont never shine
hades baybee
ooh hot n nasty
ooh cold n empty
he meets his mother
he meets achilles n a few other of the old greek boy gang
coolin their heels in the gloomy doomy afterlife
how fuckin depressing!
i mean after all that…
this is the afterlife…?
anyway
he splits this morbid scene
he checks out the song of the sirens
hey didnt jeffs dad write that?
ooh fiendss talk about motown harmonies
ooh those sirens
luvverly voices they had n what lyrics
but o’s men aint listnin’
theyre more concerned with scylla n charybdis
more nasty monsters tryin to make a meal of our boys
narrow escapes n close shaves r us
o makes it
only to land on a real nice island
called thrinacia
azure seas, white sands, the lot
trouble is the sun-god owns this piece of surreal estate
and hes a vegetarian
and hes got these cattle
and he gets real real miffed when the homeboys eat his beefs
despite o’s warnings
“what part of dont eat the sun gods cows dontcha understand?”
and o’s last ship is destroyed in a storm
o’s gone totally solo now
n he washes up on this lil place called ogygia
and lucky olde o
this island is the home of a nymph calypso
and she aint called a nymph for nuffin’ either
a demi goddess, an absolute gorgeous bit of crumpet
she n o immediately hit it off
and in no time o’s livin some cushy life
being waited on hand n foot by elemental slaves
hes like giving this demi goddess a good seeing to
day n night
when one day he takes out his lyre n writes this song
shapeless thing in a wine dark sea
amphitrites currents bring my love home to me..
gee what a lovely voice he has..
so soothing n even
a little husky
and oh what lovely words
been sittin here calypso nearly seven long years…
ya see
even tho calypsos are divine bit of grumble
olde os’s still thinkin of the missus penny
but calypso dont wanna let her loverboy go
whats she got that i aint got? she asks o
i dunno
he says
but shes got the wherewithal n sweet knowledge
that makes it wonderful
i should get goin’
but miss c cant let her handsome beau go
so eventually athene
who
it has to be said
has always fancied o a bit herself
goes streakin’ up to mount olympus trip
and gets in her daddys ear
who jus’ happens to be mr cloud gatherer himself
the big Z
she goes
blah blah blah odyssseus
blah blah odysseus this n that
Z says ok enuff enuff
send the boy home then
and then Z calls out
hey hermes
tell that fuckin calypso to let that the guy go, ok
hermes straps on his flying sandals n hat
he bookin’ it flatchat to that tropical isle
he says game over lady c
that druid now homewood bound
after a few more cockups
o finally gets home
he chucks on a disguise
see how things are on the home front
he catches the hoods n blackguards n dawgs
hangin round his wife
sexually harassin’ her n the maids
eatin’ his muesli n drinkin his soy milk
o loses it
he goes bananas
n him n the boy endup wasting the lot of em
cuttin em up into little bits
ooh revenge is sweet but it sure is messy too
thats about it
o has a shower
we hope hes been careful when he was with circe or calypso
he makes sweet love to his wifey
his sonny boy is v happy
peace n prosperity return to ithaca
its been a hell of a twenty years
fade in soft greek bouzoukis
bring up lights
goodnight ancient grease

another cold day in sydnee town
im up early
back in the saddle again
i just noticed last night
that about 50 per cent of shows on tv
are about murder
aint that strange?
that for entertainment
after a long day under the fluoros
or drivin a taxi (hi g + g)
or diggin’ ditches
people sit around n watch shows about
murder
eg
forensic investigation
crossing jordan
(nothing to do with holly)
but” its a race against time as the entire morgue
works to stop a series of bloody murders”
then theres
serious crash unit
infamous murders
ncis(a pentagon cryptographer is found dead)
cold case
law n order
etc etc etc
jus’ check yer local tv guide
youll be shocked by the blood n gore
thats dished up on yer screen
EVERY FUCKING NIGHT
can ya believe it
theyre dishing up murder
as entertainment
here mr smith
drink yer booze
smoke yer fags
n watch yer murder
n get back down that factory at 7 every morning
pay yer taxes
eat yer steak
and get yer 2 weeks holidays
out of 52
yeah theres a good deal for ya….
people i thought murder
was a crime most hideous
the worst n most unalterable crime
thou shalt not kill baybee
yet half or more tv shows are
dramatizations of this heinous act
sposed to “entertain” ya
whether its some english dopey detective
stumbling thru the clues in a little village
or some hard hitting yankee cop
trackin’ down the bad guys in brooklyn
or some coroner in nsw
HOW THE FUCK DID WE COME TO ACCEPT THIS TRIPE?
cmon cmon
aint this just a small example of how its all gone so wrong?
ya cannae watch people creating life on yer telly
but every nite ya can see em getting blown away
poisoned
strangled
beaten
and then the gruesome inquests n trials
why the hell do we need this?
its bullshit, my people
pure bullshit
n they tell ya pots bad for ya!

the opposition leader in australia
eg the labor party dude
is a great pudgy useless slimy imbecile
hes had a million makeovers n new suits
still hes what he is
a great pudgy useless wally
no ones ever voted for the turkey
n they aint gonna start anytime soon
why why why labor…?
here i am
the next pm of australia
im here
im a genius
im a socialist
ive got charisma oozing from every poor pore
(its pouring)
im an ex debating champ
i could look good in an expensive suit n floral shirt
already got a sun tan..no extra cost for tanning lounge
ok i dont know anything bout the “issues”
but neither does olde useless they got now
i could be briefed n de briefed
i look good in my briefs actually
i’d withdraw all our troops from anywhere
i’d go for the rich bastards not paying any taxes
(a cuppla years ago one of austs richest men
claimed taxable income of 160 grand n got away with it!)
i’d fuckin sort it out for single mums, students, pensioneers
disableds n ex rockstars
we’d all be on easy street
if we sold a few of our useless fuckin jets
cmon who are we gonna dogfight with…
the red baron?
buy the kids in school some rockn roll instruments
didja know the greedy greedy bastards in parliament
also just voted to give emselves more super n more pensions etc
a bipartisan movement in fact
tha only thing those crooked lying swine could agree on
pay ourselves more
more perks, more lurks
have ya ever watched the disgraceful behaviour
(they screen “live” parliament between murder shows)
talentless tepid vapid insipid nobodies feebly rowing w/ eachother
(except about getting more money natch)
jesus politics is screaming out for me
someone with a bit of pizazz
(but not pizzas)
christ, i’d look good addressing the nation
can you imagine
“my dear fellow australians,
ive cancelled the war,
ive made marijuana legal
ive lowered parliaments wages, super n perks
n im givin it back to the nurses n hospitals
n schools n orphans n sick people etc etc
WHERE ITS SPOSED TO BE

didja know if one of these pricks can stay in for 7 years
THEY GET PAID FOR THE REST OF THEIR LIVES INDEXED TO INFLATION???
thats bullshit
why should they?
i’ll fucking change all that
cmon peter garretts in there already
we need more olde rockers in there
we could fill parliament with em
WE COULDNT DO A WORSE JOB THAN KIM BEAZLEY
even his name…kim beazley
jesus
how can a man be called kim?

oh my fiendss
look around ya
this world is so mixed up
b bon sorry to hear bout yer kid
what the hells that about
we can invade irakistan
but we cant look after our own kids afterschool
but if ya vote for sk
im gonna put an end to it
im gonna ask them hard questions
im gonna get all that violence off the telly too
maybe people could watch some nice stuff for a change
stuff that dont de sensitize em to crime
get murder off tv
get morgues off tv
get the copsnrobbers off tv
get the guns n violence off tv
gee theres other stuff in this world too
like nature n art n music n
all kinds of lovely things
we should all be as happy as kings

listen if kim beazley ever wins an election
i’ll run around bondi stark naked
with good on ya kimbo
tattooed on my ass
but i dont think its gonna happen
he aint gonna..
he cant…
he wont…
labor needs me
this country needs me
the world needs me
my first act will be to halve my own wages
i’ll go on livin’ in bondi
i’ll go on space rockin’ n bloggin’ too
politics i’ll sort out between my laps n chi gong
how hard can it bee?
theres a million advisers…aint there?
i’d whip the shiny bums into shape too!
i’d sort out the lot of em….
what are ya waiting for mah people
are ya voting for me yet?
if ya from somewhere other than orstrayliah
send in an absentee vote
fuck em
we need to cheat to make this happen
they dont play by the rules…
why should we?
soon i will be your beloved leader
and everything will be spacey
i wanna be elected!!!
the right hon. s j kilbey esquire
member for bohemia

rain
thunder n white lightnin’
wind lashing the palms n gums
the ocean turns metallic
thank you dear ones
today i am safe n warm
in the house of familial love
cosy little nevets down on planet earth
sitting inside on a rainy morning
type type type
nk n scarlet bumper slumber
evie gives me a little 3 page book
on page one is snails n fairies
on page 2 its says
i love you dad
on page 3 she loves the others
this is my life today
it hasnt always been like this
a still haven in a turbulent struggle against…what?
do you realise that im only beginning to realise
who i might really be
a few days short of # 52…?
aurora has drawn a female centaur with fluorescent marker yellow hair
can these do magic she asks
these what i say
these …these satyrs….
thats not a satyr, its a centaur i say
and yeah
i think centaurs do a bit of yer you know, basic magic
well ah dad ah whats a satyr then
now this is a slightly tricky question to answer truthfully
for a six year old who likes to get her greek myths facts straight
(owing as much to hercules the movie as my input)
aurora can tell ya how the trojan war started
how eris that bitch
that goddess of discord n strife (latin=discordia)
was not invited to an huge dance party on olympus
i mean, but who would invite a cow like that anyway
shes always gonna cause a fuckin row!
just like my auntie ?
(joyce knows who i mean)
anyway this mean conniving eris
she thinks
bugger it! i’ll show those pigs
so she “fashions” a golden apple
on the apple is carved
“for the most beautiful”
and crikey!
(for steve)
the 3 main goddesses
athene
hera
and sweet sweeet aphrodite
the cytherean, the unblemished goddess of lurve
oh my i can see her before my fevered eyes right now
exactly like botticellis
skimpily whispily dressed in…..mist…n…clouds
oh aphrodite
those romans called ya venus
but this is long before that…
anyway you woulda thought that
athene being goddess of wisdom n all
mighta been above squabbling over a 24 carat solid gold
easy action baby apple
but hell no
she wants it
she claims it
so too hera
zeuss missus
the queen
what did she want with a fuckin’ apple?
but nope…
she stupidly has to have the apple
of course sweet aphrodite
she is the most beautiful
whos gonna argue with that?
do i see any male fiendss with their hands up
going no no…it was hera…it was hera!??
i didnae think so
so anyway
i guess they all ask zeus
he says
who the fuck am i?
judge shirley?
1st of all youre my wife
how can i not say you?
2nd of all athenes my daughter
how can i not say my daughter?
3rd…i mean…cmon….i mean..
its aphrodite…!
shes the fuckin’ goddesss of love!
whaddya want me to say…?
go n ask some mortal why dontchas?
ok ok
so they choose the handsomest man on earth
sorta cross between nevets n dicko robinson
but much younger
and they ask him to adjudicate this divine beauty contest
sorta like miss universe but the contestants had unbelievable power
anyway like a knuckle head the handsomest man
whose name is paris (hiltin”)
says oh yeah yeah
i’ll do it
doh! i bet there couldnt be any repercussions ha ha
of course the three goddesses each try n rig the judging
athene offers him knowledge n victory
ah i’ll get back to ya on those options he says
boy is athene pissed off now
she swears immortal eternal hatred of troy
(for paris was a prince of troy)
a bit of an over reaction i’d say
specially for the goddess of bleedin’ wisdom
next comes slightly (i imagine ) masculine hera
she offers our man power!
now dont get me wrong
shes in real good shape
shes zeuss wife for chrissakes
she can afford the best
shes a very handsome woman n statuesque
but beautiful just aint the word that pops into pariss head
ah look he says
lemme just check out the last contestant
n i’ll get back to ya…
hera storms off
oh paris my man
why didja wanna piss off the main female deity in these parts
ok ok
now aphrodite dont need to bribe him
n paris dont exactly need help in wooing the ladies
being a prince of troy n handsomest devil in the bronze age
but anyway
she offers him love love love
even the love of the prettiest lady on earth
(conditions apply*)
like a complete gooseball
paris picks the lovely miss a
all hell breaks loose
runs off wiv another fellas missus
(only the king of fucking spartas ms helen)
loadsa people die
and thats how
it all happened
anyway
back to ms aurora (latin goddess of the dawn)
the reason the faun /satyr question is tricky
is cos as far as i can tell
a satyr is just a bigger randier hornier faun
and i dont think shes gonna need to think about
that distinction for a while
thats it fiendss
im outta here
love
me

plummeting
this ruined angel
falling down from heaven
27 to 60
crashing sprawling
the earth rushing up to meet me
sickening descent from nightmare
smashing into the floor
down down down
catch me
im fading fast
muse what am i to do?
no use moaning here nevets
these are the people you still have
but muse wherefore hast my readership sunk
like a wreck in the cold green sea
like i wazza ripple
in their memory?
oh nevets such is the fickleness of folk
cry not for them gone
but celebrate in the ever vibrating present
you been surfing now for nearly 52 years
today…
today im sittin in the sauna
and im talkin’ to these 2 russian ladies
who run a beauty parlour
and im askin’ em whether i should have
anywhere on my body waxed
(im being facetious fer chrissake!)
and one points to my beard tentatively
you think i should have my beard waxed? asks i
the other one shakes her head
no she says
that beards been good to you…..

i thought that was kinda funny
oh well guess you had to be there
i mention my rock group to the doodles
evie says whats a rock group
aurora says oh eve…its dads collection of stones
you see
everyone speaking at least part of the truth
some of the time
a horrible machine has taken up residence in this nay-borehood
going dut-dut-dut-dut-dut-dut
and
then its echo as well off the side of the hill
a millisecond friggin’ delay
as the horrible machine moves about
the sound doeppler effects with itself
and thats sounds like t.dream
(a very little, im just tryin’ to see the brite side)
im ready to strangle it
its the anti-yoga
its sonic anathema!
(a great name for my next record maybe)
what sayest thou muse?
its ok nevets, i guess
ok muse, is it just ok?
must everything you say be a pearl nevets?
why yes muse yes
i wanna be a poet 24 hours a day
i need to be squeezing poignancy outta words
i gotta make these words bleed for my readers
i gotta use special words and bend em to my agender
im fuckin finished lets face it
number 60
i can do anything now
ha ha
the constraints are off
from now on nevets yeblik can run amuck
regardless of all those damn aspirations to bloggmeggadom
bloggmeggadom, as mentioned in the ye olde testament
where the successful psalmists n scribes go
oh nevets you know its cos the u.s. tours over…
a loada flakes left this blogg so eat their dust
nevets some of em have abandoned ya its true..
no muse no…i hate to be cast aside..just like that
how could they do it to me
oh bitter tears
oh wailing n gnashing of teeeth
didnt they understand they were sposed to be my audience?
was i charging em too much?
was i too political/apolitical?
was i too good/evil?
for christ sakes nevets…
you just didnae have the right stuff man..now let it go
youre boring the ones you DO have left
but seeeing i am thy muse…heres a little idea:
pretend that youre still on tour
some where in wyoming …
sitting in my room
the pools full of wee wee n klawrine
my ipods playin jeff buckley
tonite we play wyoming house of blooze
dickos down in the foyer i guess waitin’
last nites gig in boise was a corker
met some great folks
thanks barney n edna fer the vegan jazz muffins
boise had a nice vegan pub called the organic martini
sue cee recommended it
we met some people in there
hi sid n nancy kincaid
we played jazzy reptile
until it slithered away amongst the audients
i have reduced my bass to a one stringer
and i just go boom boom boom
and sing all this stuff in sumerian
it translates as
take it out on me enki
boise is the home of boiseberries
and i had a vegan boiseberry thickshake
with jagermeister clusters
whippings of soy cream
lashings of peeled provocative fruit
ready to be devoured
im driving tomorrow
the sunstarr is a great van
it has cd n vapouriser trails
its aircond n wireless n starbux homed
it drives like a diamond crushed dream
on yer 4 buck a gallon gasoline
tonite im wearing black for a change
im gonna try singin’ in a deep voice
im gonna try to say witty yet somehow poignant things
between the songs
im gonna do all my old hits
inkling
my abstract model
electrical disturbance
jet fin rock
all the way back to the songs i wrote in the womb
yeah you know that one about the ocean n the silvery fish
and the mermaids who were a’callin to ya
nevets sing them the one i whispered tp you
when you incorporeal in the astral
oh muse
i been trying to remember that one forever, you know
but oh oh my my
what a sad sad song that was…
im still crying all these years later,muse
whats going on with that?
hush now nevets im here
im here
muse?
yes dear nevets?
do you think i’ll ever re-enter the top 40?
(sound of muse yawning)

the end

you couldna imagined 2 more different steves
i couldna imagine i’d be sittin here cryin’
for some stranger i’d only ever seen on the telly
so there ya go
a neu surprise every day
steve irwin
my god man
i hope youre in a heaven surrounded by serpents snakes
lizards crocs n gators n all those other beautiful creatures
that only you, of all people, could dig
you could see beyond the repulsive n fearsome veneers
n perceive the little bit of god in there
he was fast
he was brave
he was limber n lithe
he was so fucking funny
he made me proud to be the bit of aussie that i am
he was a space rocker only his instrument was the beasts
he was a poet but his words were the creatures
insert yer own silly metaphor in here
it wont bring him back…
my wifes been crying all day…
i wonder if australians here know
how much this druid was loved in the states….
oh but steve
oh steve
you pushed yer luck every day man….
people keep sayin to me
ah, its the way he woulda wanted it
but not yet steve
not yet
not this soon
a celebrity worthy of celebrity
one of the goode guys
i dunno
i feel like a permanent fixture has been wrenched from my life….
yer up there with houdini, steve
to me anyway
as a larger than life man
who did impossible things
AND
was still a lovely bloke
i wish i wish i wish i knew ya
i wish i’d met ya
you were beyond all categories
a diamond
a prince
a wizard
a true star
vale steve
im really really gonna miss ya man
s k
n. bondi 2006

been watchin’ born to boogie
the t rex film (thanks hot toddy)
at the zenith of his career
from hereon in
the long slide
which had in fact
already begun
although trex are set up in the biggest gig in england
they look like theyre playin’ at lyneham high school social
absolutely no lights
no drum riser
all kinda crammed together
i saw trex live in
maybe 1973 in sydney
they were rubbish
about 6 songs stretched out by bolans awful “lead” guitar
and ridiculous posturing
how could a man fall from grace so fast……?
during one of the pretty good “surreal” segments in the film
ringo starr (obviously with a bit of a hetero crush on bolan)
dressed up as a mouse chauffering boleys caddy
pulls up in the haze of an english summer morning
bolan looks out from under his locks of hair n silly hat
n says to ringo quietly
mm ..nice day..
and then you just got to know
how fuckin’ cool it must have been to have been bolan
at that very second
or even hang out with him
but already at the wembley concert which the film is hung around
its all startin’ to go to marcs lovely head
and oh dear
oh my my
why wouldnt it?

but its an earlier marc that i myself
am still interested in
beard of stars n t rex
where it all came into focus
i mean electric warrior is brilliant
but the seeds of destruction were already sown
i love the slider too
but by now boleys not boley anymore
hes gone from boppin’ elf
to a bona fide screamingirls limousineridin’
cokesnortin’ fuckin ROCKSTAR
oh beware beware beware
his muse laid a cuppla farewell killa songs on him
like 20 century boy, etc
and she split, never to be seen again
but by tanx…
i was furious with that album
not one halfway decent….no nothin’
absolutely the worse tripe
and so on from then on out
but theres never been a guy with so many posthumous albums
all with the same old buncha songs on em
bolan was a cosmic rocker
he was a seeeker of space
his sublime stuff is sublime
check out the weeeping wah wah on lofty skies
that guitar is speaking straight to your heart darlin’
check out the chord progression on great horse
for total weirdness check out wind cheetah
which sounds like it was written by a phoenician
on some strange instrument in city of tire
then check out the rhythm guitar playing on t rex
as good as keef at rockin n rollin’?
i just love boleys chopping boogieing playing
his strange endings
his preposterous accent
his beautiful melodies
an alternative to allthose strutting peacock turkeys
in deep purple n led sabbath n whoever else
bolan you were the bees knees old son
you were only young when ya went..
who knows you coulda come back …….
ive been listnin to these albums since 1970
36 years of gratification
not bad when ya think about it
a really really hip cat
but could it give me love
give me little love
gimme little love from gods heart?
and then i’ll walk….

sunday arvo, north bondi
popol vuh playin
have already done chi gong
yoga
taken nippers for surf
(flat n chilly!)
the others have gone out
its quiet warm breezy n overcast
you can always feel that yer very close
to that gazillion gallons of pacifica mare
the salt is in the air
rustin’ things
invisible abrasion
drinkin’ a bottle of water
with potassium n magnesium
n all other kinda great words in it
ive spoken with mr greene
so that was nice
hadda a soy shake w/ bananas n dates
which baby bumper also seems to dig
not feelin’ that great actually
restless/angry/impatient
now i dont like myself when im like this
(muse: nor does anyone else!)
and i used to feel like this a lot
but i thought i’d “mellowed”
a strange process that happens to pot smokin
yoga doing space rocking olde hippies som moi
which means you finally learn to at least try to stop
always being a prick
tim powles is never a prick
hes so patient
hes so tolerant
he’ll hang in there with ya….
i wasnt made like that
im full of pitta heat
spite
(muse: no kidding)
ambition
desire
revenge
grudges
(muse:yep)
intolerance
instant gratification is too slow for me
i cant take lessons or give em
i never learn
over n over
anger sucks me in n uses up my energy
i cant take advice neither
so dont go sendin’ me all yer advice
n websites
you think some hopped up fiend like me
gonna sit readin’ someones advice on the internet
my main problem is my superioty n inferioty complexes
so first of all
im better than all of ya
so why would i take yer advice
2nd of all
im worse than all of ya
im not worthy of it
i dont merely dislike the mundane
it infuriates me!
im going crazy with all these possibilities at my fingytips
the popol vuh album im listnin to
is so fuckin’ obscure
the titles only come up on my ipodd in japanese
so try n track that one down all you proto space rockers
in tasmania or south dakota
courtesy of the lord of the reedy river
anyway
where was i
sometimes the blog feels like cake
which refuses to rise
a cake may refuse to rise
but never the sun
a flute like flurry emerges from the vuh
howcome they dont play these kinda songs on albanian idol?
imagine space rock idol?
could ya dig it fiends?
sk as judge jury n executioner
occaisionally we could have some other
space rock celebs…
baron brock fer sure……
mr michael moorcock….would you come on my show?
rick wright as hes the only one of the floyd still vaguely floydy
the druid from porkypine tree…absolutely
sonic boom or jason spaceman….but not at the same time
mark gardener….ok..
someone from iceland would be good
ummmm
oh mwp a true true space rock afficianado
manfred up-and-more
edgar froese
copey
you know all as special guest judges
and we could sweep the great dominions searching
for space rock acts
who are capable of invoking travel,weightlessness, the void
loneliness, bliss, eternity n infiniti
we would award the winners absolutely nuthin
but we would subject the losers to elton john
n justin timberlake
n chrissie ugly-leerer
ha ha
that reminds me
there were these books written bout hawkwind
time of the hawklords
and the villains zapped the good guys by
pointing these sonic guns which played excerpts from elton
and the carpenters
jesus i thought that was funny when i was about 20
popol vuh percolating in the corner now
frothy bubbles of synthas
ive noticed typing this blog gives me backache
theres always a fucking catch
and
and i hope im wrong
but
is that slight stiffening in my left leg n knee
the beginnings of arthur wrightus?
about this age me mum started gettin it
just when ive newly become quite a twinkle toes
ah there ya go
i shoulda been a dancer n nnow its jus’ too late
i dont think old bricklayin’ types like me
are welcome down the ballet academy
those snobby bastards…
cant they have a mature entry scheme?
things are blowing off the walls in my kitchen but i cant be bothered
the talk with mr greene has made me very hungry
i put some bread in ye olde toaster
i increase voluma on ye olde i motion speakers
i now smell toast
mmm
peanut butter on one slicey
vegemitey on t’other
munchy munchy
go on olde bean you deserve it
a moment on yer lips
a lifetime on yer hips
eat it today
wear it tomorrow
muse…..
does my egos ass look big in this skintite black blogg?
(sound of divine giggling)
muse
am i just an olde tosser
sittin in a kitchen in bondi
a’ typin’ out his (only ranking 30) stupid blogg
so a buncha thousand or so
variously deranged, stoned or deluded gooseballs
spread all over this very unstinkin earth
can get a laff over their morning coffee
or a quick snigger in the public service
when the boss aint about
or a sigh for our stevie bouy
as he battles on
fighting n forging his way forward
into the final four?????????????????????????
muse im a sideshow
who started that thinkin mans osbournes thing
whos gonna film it…..?
ya wont believe it till ya see it?
ever wanted to drop in on someone elses life so so badde?
like in that mott the hoople song
i wish i was your mother…?
(so then i coulda seen you coulda beeen you as a childe)
would you like to spend tomorrow as me?
youll need a white beard
a loada kidss
a slightly stiff left legge
a slightly aching shoulder from typing this tripe
ringin ears
fadin eyesight
and a deep deep love of space rock
then off you go
smoke some dope
do a painting
stumble around in the mundane world
marvelling at it all
and cause chaos
go into banks n lose yer stuff
trip over on sidewalks
deface real estate posters
chew gumballs n drink lime sportswater
worship vishnu
slosh down goji juice
(now only 60 bux a bottle)
plan n plot n ruminate n machinate
think a thousand things at once
and remember none
except
a vague wow
thats it in a nut shell
a real nut shell
is this the next phase, interstellar commanders?
whats that…?
take my people n form a commune?
make em drink goji n red bull n jagermeister
and listen to the very un-spinal taplike hawkwinds
ah
who cares?
and what would it matter if they did?
im outta space
im outta luck
im outta time
n i dont give a fig
love
essquaie