The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

i aint descended from no fuckin’ monkey
i got here via space
that beautiful nothingness
full of universes
darwin , he still turned to god
even after everything
and einstein n olde sir isaac
yeah you remember
the druid who could first dig
the gravity of the situations
these genii
these proto space rockers
they could suss gods hand
now imagine this
its canberra act australia
one of possibly the least space rock places
in the whole f***ing world
theres like a seventeen year old kid
lying in his bed listnin’ to the radio
its monday night
1972
theres a guy call winter
hes got a radio show on the abc
only for a cuppla hours a week
this guy plays the latest “new” stuff
and announces them in this whispery voice
anyway im lyin there and listnin’ to his show
as i faithfully n religiously do
and he whispers
this is hawkwind
from
in search of space
something starts up
a creaking grinding wheezing machine
starts to fire up
gradually from a cacophany of machine noise
a pulse coagulates
the unmistakable throb of engines
coming to life n then
beginning to purr
the thing heaves itself free
of its moorings
and in agony n triumph
we flame away from earth
now a tiny blue green point
in the darkness
immediately space paranoia sets in
cos space is deep baybee
but space is also very spooky
and these voices are whispering in the darkness
should do that
shouldnt do that
should do that
shouldnt do that
music invoking travel
crystalline voyager
the space rockers
the surfers
the sufis
the poets like arthur was
the rishis
the explorers
the yogis
the whales
the hippies
the stargazers
the alchemists
everybody groovy
all in search of space
i need these planets close to my bones
i remember travel
the long journey
space rock oh my my
description of an arc
look
i hate arithmetic
n i hate offices
n i hate paperwork
n i hate red tape
n i hate all
these tiny chains
my vessel is bound with
so theres hawkwind
my first taste of spacerock
and
an amazing log book comes with the record
which i bought the next day!
i was down the record shop
quick as you please
lookin’ anxiously thru the “h”s
fuck
here it is
race home
crank up volume on my tinny system
lo and behold
a nother disciple of space rock opera cult is born!
we seek freedom
we seek oblivion
our music n our thoughts
are always on space
the space between the houses
the inn a’space too
those crazy crazy kraut rockers
they understand space
so too julian cope
a true intra-spacenik
the pink fluid
michael moorcocks deep fix
the injection of heroin n cocaine into bloodstream
as metaphor for the liftoff n weightlessness of spacetravel
hold on
an incredible rush
your heart goes what the….
upwards you rushing now
then suddenly
ladies n gentlemen
we are spacing in a float tank
im disappointed if youre disappointed
this blackness
this….space
this is it
finally
the stillpoint
the calm in the eye
our vehicle begins to shake
cap’n she can no take it …..
space cadets dont try this at home alpha bravo
astronauts get confused n disconnected
the black corridor
the magicians staff
hallucinations
visions, temptations
amphetamine babes
n blackened devils
the constant feeling of travel even after you stop
movement
wave particles
thank you cosmic jokers
amon duul
t.dream
all the rest
space rock
available again soon

pleasure
hedonism
the ocean
spring has returned
prima vera herself
dressed in green house gases
even damaged as she is
still so lovely
honey n milk flow
the southern hemisphere blooms forth
male n female
woof n warp
the way things start happening
the delerious hammer pounds inside
shooting stars in the eastern sky…i saw 2
making wishes as i was in garudasana
the balcony in the night
sandy n shelly n flowering plants
lovely aloneness for once
shiva sometimes whispers in my heart
faintly audible
the destroyer
speaks in liquid ways
my heart slows down to 45 beats per minute
despite all the whatever i have subjected myself to
i have low blood pressure
n my heart beats real slow
sanskrit celestial language
aum baybee
mmmm…thats right
and pleasure
the pleasure of music
the screaming distorting fracturing gurgling guitars
at the beginning of futureboy
the spirit walking drift of the eq. starrs
the way a bass guitars rubbery pulse
rubs up against a kick drum
words
all those fucking fantastic words
all those fucking fantastic voices
sing a song of fucking songs baybee
and rejoice
cos you are alive
and its spring
pushing thru the cold seawater
im rewriting my definitive book on rocknroll
over n over in my head
a million thoughts fly to me
but none are ever in words….
music going where nothing else goes
a painting cant get ya there
oh i dunno
thats not true…..
but this music stuff…what is it?
why do these combinations of words n notes unlock our spirits
why does some gruff old voice and tinny guitar
make me feel like i could perform magic
i been playing my olde bass for 36 years now
its an eternity
music slowly unravels from my hands
at first nothing
nothing at all
a lump of wood and some strings that hurt my fingers
drop by drop
i could squeeze music outta the fuckin’ thing
and now
and now….
my fingers say to my mind
please dont get involved
we know what we are doing
we have been fingers before
over n over n over
new instruments
new songs to learn
new slides n frets n holes to finger
new tones n timbres n rhythms n drones
new sticks n plectrums n bows n mallets
continuity
same old music
but now completely different
changed into something
rich n strange
ha
what does it all amount to?
that thou shalt rock?
that god gave rocknroll to us?
spring evening hastening down upon us here
the baby, the symbol of continuity
shakespeare..whatta great rocknroll lyricist he woulda been
and august strindberg, n baudelaire too
of course sweet young arthur
more tragic
more romantic
more young gifted n french
without you arthur
without you
rocknroll would still be doowop
oh you dead poet
i love yer stuff
i know you dont read my blogge
but its ok
when yer gone yer gone
and someday someone in the future
could chance upon something of mine
and i’ll be gone too
and none of it will matter anymore
and then
and then
there i am
im a kid again
and i see this instrument in a window one day
and the instrument
(which is playin’ by itself)
is singing
i’d love you to run yer hands all over me
and the instrument is very seductive
and before ya know it
ya meet some other new guys
ya might have to go thru a few
before ya meet the right ones
and then
you figure out
how you can
with certain combinations
of words n sounds
affect other people
whom you now call “the audience”
ya have yer ups n downs
sometimes ya dont get the combinations right
sometimes ya hate each other n yerselves
sometimes the audience are deaf
sometimes the audience arent even there
sometimes barometric pressure or cocaine
puts all the instruments permanently out of tunes
rocknroll animal
rocknroll angel
tryin’ to get that mixture right…!
are you telling me that rocknroll
shouldnt contain all the flesh n intelligence of man
are you saying that the electric guitar aint the best thing
for expressing unspeakable beastlike lust
and
the sonic perfection of heaven?
if you dont believe that you got the wrong blogge mister
rocknroll is sacred holy music to me
i live by it
im gonna die by it
i have a god given right to rock
and when i strap on my plank
im gonna deafen the silence
im gonna negate those blues
im gonna anaesthetize ya
im gonna let you in on some secrets
im gonna describe with a pulsing low e
the rise n fall of civilisation
music
pleasure
waves of joy
waves of joy

oh im almost ashamed of myself
but i cant stop now
i have to say i have slightly adjusted my opinion of idol
first of all bobby flynn is just my cuppa tea
weirdly handsome, great hair
and you can see in his eyes this cat is gone man gone
hes a natural
hes the kinda freak they SHOULD be discovering
the wild eyed boys from free cloud
the mercurial gifted strange cats
bobby i dig ya man
i reckon ya could do pretty well without the show anyway
a zillion times better than the syrupy “boy” tripe
watch this guy
hes cool
you shoulda heard the cheer chez kilbey when bobby
got vindicated
and my stupid song got vindicated
even on this level
then surprise of surprises
a cuppla of the girls are actually good
(kilbey you olde fool this diametrically opposed to yessadays rant)
first comes on this very individual kinda girl
does this lousy song tho
and she gets outta time with the band
yep n so does everybody sooner or later
its like serving a double fault
even happens to the greats
the rodent sniffs the air and pronounces it a joke
a joke the girl numbly repeats
the rodent is unrepentent
a joke he says it again
gee how villainous
later on he comes up with such corkers as
i dont care what you think, youre an idiot
hiss hiss
what a cutting edge ubermoderne zeitgeist riding
entertainment machine, a master performer
a judge truly worthy of judgement
anyway
then comes on a very young girl
and shes simply brilliant
honestly
even to my jaded faded olde eyes
this chick got the x factor in spades
the weasely-one commands the audience
get up off yer arses
for the best thing ta ever come out of orstrayliah
so there
she was so good even he could see it
and like bobby boy
shes got her own thing goin’
very beguiling
effortlessly singing
very very goode stuff indeed
so im sittin’ there thinkin’
well i was wrong about some of the contestants
but i was more than right about mr nasty
and ya gotta understand
i aint against villains in principle
ya gotta have a villain
i understand that
and simon cowell
is a nasty piece of work in full flight
but hes fucking witty
and hes got a schtick n hes gotta schpiel
and he demolishes em but good
all im sayin is
fer christ sake
in all of australia
aint we gotta better villain than that?
a good evil nastybastard…
look i aint gonna watch it again
so it dont matter to me
what the hell am i still goin’ on about it for then….?

right now im listenin to pharaoh saunders
which was given to me by johnny garrett
in sin sin atty
yes johnny i did like meeting you
you are a no nonsense american guy
olde style in some strange way
a kinda ohian groucho marx or somethin
no johnny i didnt think you were whatever it was you said
and johnny
im enjoying this record very much
on a sadly negative side
may i enquire what happened to happy days by the c. wheel?
some of it sounds like bush…?!
what was dicko thinkin’
is this their mag among the spirits?
except for eat my dust
(which IS a classic)
its all kinda heavy riffy all pumped up
not really what i was wanting or expecting
like they were trying to be something they werent
record company pressure?
i mean it aint terrible….
but not up to dickos usual standard
tsk tsk!
in other bad news minna now has glandular fever
auroras asthma hovering in the background
and my room is a complete shambles n mess
gareth of notts, you handsome stud
please refrain from threatening talent show judges
on my blogge
my parole officer has told me im not allowed to associate with ya
melquiades cant ya trim yer poems down to just one per blog (max)
hello matt in nz
we’re talkin to some druid in auckland re a show…
but who knows
hi to the grecian urn in melbourne
you ve been such a lovely n dedicated fan for so so long
much appreciation
hi to nickfiction
stevekoontz
all mah loverly readers
thanks for making me what i am today..
whatever the hell that is….
and channel ten
if you need an erudite urbane experienced judge
one who has actually trodden the boards
in london paris new york munich
a handsome olde devil
a twinkle in my i
a real callous judgemental nasty bastard
i might be available
but ya gotta pay me more
than hand-shandylands
have your people
call my people
and then
go tell it on the mountain
let my people go

no more idol banter
i promise
kill-bee

ps
ive just discovered petra hadens acapella who sell out
effing amazing stuff!!!

this blogge is for the dean…
ypu wanted an uninformed dullard roasted
ooh deany
i got just the turkey for you!
now no one on this blog can ever question
how much this olde hippy loves orstraylia
and i fall down and pay homage to the geniuses
n one-offs and all the other brilliant australians
the passing parade
our great painters
our great writers
our grate actahs (whoever they are)
our great musicians
(and heres a lil list in case ya forgotten)
grant mclennan, robert forster, dave mccomb
nick cave, hutch, all india radio, underground lovers
augie march, the finger, decoder ring,neil finn (well almost aust)
blah blah blah blah blah
i aint got no cultural cringe
i lived in the u.s. n i lived in europe
but i chose to come back here
an’ i doo love it here
but one thing has always bothered me
about austrayliah
and that is
that the tendency to be a second rate
poor mans usa
we dont fuckin’ need it
anymore than we need to be
second rate uk
australia has its own thing
it always had and it always will
why this desire to replicate american stuff
now ya may be wonderin’ a’where im going with this
awkward little preamble
but this is it
(deep breath)
last nite i watched australian idol
a grim n horrible confession
to be sure
but ya see
i was curious to see how they were gonna do my song
so there we are
sittin round the idiot box
australian idol
yeah yeah
nothin new
we used to have these shows even when i wassa kid
talent shows
new faces
gong shows
but now mutated into this juggernaut
1st of all we getta recap on last show
a buncha of aussie chicks singin either
a) like they grew up in a ghetto in philly
or
b) like they grew up in a trailer park outside nashville
but whatever it is
it aint australian…thats fer fuckin sure
carbon copies of carbon copies
yeah yeah australias beyoncee from wagga wagga
yeah yeah australias dixie chick from adelaide
anyway
we have the ridiculous moment where all these
girls, bitter rivals desperately clawing their way
to the top of an illusory dungheap
and the 2 winners get announced
ah look
all the others so excited to see their rivals win
and not them
crying and covering the glorious winners in kisses
even tho theyre going straight back to wherever it was
empty handed
such false n sickening insincerity
played out by countless women in dopey miss universe pageants
since the year dot
every one of em wants to scream
what the fuck…?!
how did SHE win..?!
im a better beyoncee than HER!!!
but no
its fawning kisses and all that hysterical tripe
bah humbug!
but this is jus’ the beginning
we meet the judges
now i know this much
cos i once accidentally watched american idol n swedish idol
that theres sposed to be 3 judges
the good guy
the woman whose kind to everyone
and the bad guy
the good guy turns out to be marko holdem
an ex teen crooner n distributor of roses
to the girlies in the audience
the woman turns out to be marshier hinds
an american veteran singer
been in australia forever tho
and the villain is
the superbadde guy
the one with the ascerbic wit n crushing put down
is….
drumroll
koyle handshandylands
oh koyle
watta loverly name
the feminine is koylie
so i guess yer mum was expecting a girlie
but she names ya the masculine equivalent
koyle
now our koyle
mmmm
how to describe this arch villain
think
think
rodent
a pudgy ginger rodent
turned into a man
(using the term loosely)
with a pointy ginger little hair do
full of “product”
and dressed i guess in expensive modern clothes
koyle is a shock jock talkback king here in sydney
which means hes the watered down local equivalent of some american dude
you see koyles ratlike face on all the buses round syddley
drumming up an audience for his lil radio show
and indeed thru out idol
ads would appear with our koylie dressed up
hilariously as a scotsman
a german
a frenchman (complete with beret..oh how hilarious)
doing the kind of cliched accents
which made the kids laugh back when he was in
port macquarie primary school
or wherever the fuck hes from
oh my koyle
yer a hilarious comedian
gee a beret n everything
wow
anyway
now its the boys turn
they all come on n do their thing
which is imitating the back street boys or whatever
you know
that fawning fluttery syrupy shit ya hate
in their insincere little voices
oh oh
one dude from tassie rocks out
koyle doesnt dig him tho
oh great show biz oracle that he is
so good at…
er..
hey koyle what do ya do again
can ya sing?
(nope)
can ya dance
(nope)
can ya play an instrument?
(nope)
are ya funny
(nope)
are you merely a cynical talentless butt ugly no one
who got very fuckin’ lucky
on a radio show
and ya must look at yerself everymorning
in yer expensive mirror in yer expensive condo
and pinch yerself
cos ya cant believe yer good luck
that youve parlayed yer nothingness into a “career”
where you sit around in the anonymity of yer
radio show n laugh n swear
just like any other dime a dozen yobbo
you could meet in any pub on any night
man
youre not even a fuckin villain
youre not even a bad ass
youre just…..a little ginger nothin’
and in few years
youll be the kinda thing we’ll all sit back n laugh at
as an example of the excess of the early 2000s
the emergence of the useless cynical talentless no one
as millionaire schlock jockey
that had his rodent like mug on a bus once
so when koylie disses the dude from tassie
mr tassies got this look like he wants to knock
koyles ratty teeth down his throat
n blow me down if i cant feel most of
australia willing him on to do it
i’d have voted for ya then pal!
anyway eventually a strange but hip young druid
sings under the friggin milky whey
a bit too jazzy n with a weird accent
but not a badde version of the olde warhorse
ooh ooh
guess what
koylie handshandylands
dont like my song
and he says it over n over
like hes got a personal axe to grind
OF COURSE YOU DONT LIKE IT YOU WANKER
COS YER A FUCKIN PHILISTINE
and that means
you dont know understand music or art or culture
and i was so happy you hated my song
cos youre anathema to me
you are my total opposite in everyway
and i would be disturbed if you cared for anything
that i had done
so there you go
not a badde version of the olde milky…
handshandylands
yer a complete failure as a villain
have me on yer show koylie
i dare ya!
lets duke this out man to rodent
anytime
anyplace
i’ll fuckin have ya!
yer pathetic!
love
steve kilbey

and im bustin’ up mah brains for the words
set the scene nevets
3 52 tuesday aftahnooon
eternal
goodbye bacchus
hang on yabbers wall like a good god should
im only 29 in the chartes now
(sob)
i dont care
(panic…feeling of sliding into ooze of obscurity)
what do i nevets yeblik care for yonder blogge charte
yonder index of prestige n mettle
a gauge of popularity
a way of seeing whos who
ha!
i’ll lock my self away in an eastern suburbs monastery
and type my loverly blogs for me me! ME!
and only ii! I! will get to read em
an i donna care if some goose is gonna cook
under the milky whey tonite on the telly
so donna tella me bout it now
(but you can be sure crafty ol’ nevets is watchin’)
television oh television
my face should be plastered all over every screen
my soft dulcid melodious voice should pump from every speaker
my blogge and only my blogge should be at # 1
bah puny earthlings
how could you understand my destiny
IS TO BE # 1 ON THE BLOGGECHARTES !!
i will never rest
i will always be plotting
ha
is it gonna take an eroticon de blogge to make the one
more rants n raves n all yer faves
georgie dubble ya money back to the wall
and i ran iran so far away…..
aurora bore all of us we say to our little a.
eve…why dontcha leave…thats our little joke round here too
the water so cold today fiendss
so cold at the edge of time
saw jonny z bassist extraordinaire at pool
plus brother john n matty c
(both lookin’ fit n trim i must add)
only did 18 laps but i lied to myself
and i lied to everybody else
getting real hooked on oophoi
gettting real hooked on catherines weal too
a millioin times better for this olde space rocker
than the ye olde radiumheads
but thats jus my private opinion
between you me an the other 1100 jokers on here each day
christ i need somethin’ controversial to hitch mah ratings up
i feel like the ratings are my trousers n theyre slowly falling down
(control thyselves, thouest fair maidens, the metafor is in jest)
i wanna pull my ratings UP
do you know how humiliated it is sliding down a fucking chart
with a bare arse?
or even a bare ass?
or even a bear donkey…ha ha nevets..thats pathetic
cmon people
indulge my ego
its outta control now
who cares?
its in charge and it wants one
it wants 1!
give me one
it moans
oh my muse i am besotted with the position one
sadly unattainable nevetsy my deer deer bouy
but why muse why
because nevets
because
youre
just
too
damned
goode !!!!
(lawd, ain’ it the troof!!!)
do you really mean it muse?
yes darling nevets
after all whose muse am i anyway?
oh yer mine
all mine…
aint ya?
muse?
aint ya?
muse?
you aint been round rob dickos have ya?
i mean…
muse?
muse?
(sound of a disconnected phone line…..fade)

youve been there with me all day
as i rolled outta bed at 7 am
and i sat n meditated till the sun came up
drink goji juice
take nippers to school
walk to the pool
stop n buy a lime sports drink
buy 2 balls for 1$ gum
listening to adam n eve by cathy wheel on podman
theres the sea, slightly angry n restless
across the grass we went
the hot sauna
the cold green pool
again the sauna
a scalding shower
chi gong in the freezing wind
that was blowin’ in from antarctica
pull on my clothes
ipodman reinstated
feel like a million bucks
sprint up the stairs from pool
buy a takeaway coffee for the missus
stride home listening to dickos old band
wow futureboy is a good track
good on ya dicko
a toffee nosed shoegazer
if ever there was one
(but werent they all a bit posh…them shoegazers?)
but im really enjoying it
its my fave record du jour definitely
dislodging the other one
strange parallel in a way
we were both too good to be really huge
ha ha
(but aint it the truth?)
(and who cares anyway?)
(and why everything in brackets?)
contemplated writing an erotic blog as experiment
(i have quite a way with words they say)
but eventually good sense prevailed
took aurora to dentist
tooth was singing should i stay or should i go
dentist saying could go either way my girl
have to wait n see
go to art supply shop
aurora wants something but not sure what
the whole time the dentist was working on the tooth
i was feeeling every last jab n buzz
eve n aurora baybee
what a trip
lovely doodles but growing up fast now
their faces imply the beautiful women they will become
eve swims like an otter
strange animal grace child
aurora like a palomino angel
dark skin yellow hair
today i have to interrupt class in library to get a. for dentist
the kids are all on computers
zooming thru paleofuckin’lithic landscapes
one kid yells out to me as he roars up to this towering reptile
hey you know what that is?
uh an iguanadon…i venture
nope he shakes his head
its an allosaurus
damn…i shoulda known that
i used to be a dino expert once upon a time
how i felt for the triceratops as the tyrannosaurus savaged his flanks
and how glad as it sank its horns into the rexs soft white beer belly
bugger those carnivorous bullies
take it hard you meat eating brute
hurray for the prehistoric vegetarians
do yoga on balc
cant keep my mind on god for even one second
then i see the sky
dali clouds racing on shreds of grey n blue
how can i doubt the hand of the artist conceiving this stuff
everything respiritualised
nk cooking bean ball burger things for dinna
baby crawling round demanding attention
a certain opportunity has presented itself to me
to be very showbiz
and i wonder if the new improved me
the avuncular cheerful good ole boy who got off the badde stuff
the white bearded hippy renaysonce manne
can this model successfully negotiate
the tricky paths of shonky show biz
and remain integritti intacto
or will i be dragged into its morass
???????????????????????????????????????
should i?
or shouldnt i?
nk says only you can decide
oh im quite the show biz trooper these days fiendss
you shoulda seen me treadin’ them boards
in chicargy n old new york
jokes n quips
i escape from handcuffs
i do the indian rope trick
i charm the rope into the sky
i climb up
i pull up the rope
and i disappear
maybe my tanned mature good looks
will catch some powerful moguls eye
and i’ll be catapulted to soap opera stardom
playing rob dickos long lost australian uncle
in the bold n the the byootifyul
ha ha
dont laugh
anything possible now
serious art critics like my paintings(!?)
ive done musical shakeyspeare
im gonna be a judge on a songwriting contest(?!)
im jamming with the crickets
im whistlin’ in the fuckin’ rain
whattya want from me?
i dunno
soon its dinner
yum yum
then…
the possibilities stretch out to a nice horizon
it aint all dancing on clouds man
as a swedish smack dealer once said to me
one freezin mornin in stockholm
in the darkness n snow
as we had our miserable meeting
ok
there it was
that was our day together
ha!

1.53 eternal sunday afternoon
the beginning of spring here
w/ slight aftertouch of winter
electronic space music on
pull up my blogge in the onternet
hmmm
what shall i give em today….
woke early after refreshing nights slumber
out on the balc doing chi gong at 7
took fam to ye olde caf for ye olde brekky
me n e n a had avocado n tomato bruschetta
nk has mushrooms
bb has milk
i have soy chai
and pineapple watermelon ginger juice
nk has coffees
doodles have milkshakes
we stroll in the early springsun
do some shopping
look at the people
listen to rob dickinsons fresh wine for the horses
interested to read how some thought his lyrics were “cheesey”
but im really enjoying it
also have bought n ripped all cathy wheel cds
but havent listened to much yet
except
eat my dust you insensitive f***
whatta romantic guy
lotsa songs about love love love
but so sumptuous so lush
beautifully put together
carefully conceived
yes indeed
lovely romantic stuff
if you like romantic stuff….
its a tradition
the eternally yearning male
under the window sill
promising how happy hes gonna make ya
if ya just let down yer hair rapunzel
anyway
despite all that
i am really enjoying this cd
and you aint a loyal time being fiend if ya dont
maxx out yer debit cards purchasing copies
of mr dickos cd
youll be be swimming in romance
i am re reading winterlong by elizabeth hand for 3rd time
i am being visited by my brother russell
n my neice mimi belle n nephew bubsy wubsy
mimi who has been performing has traces of stage make up around her eyes
she looks like an eleven year old debbie harry at her most beautiful
we gonna take kids for walkie to yon beach
oophoi drones n drifts
nice afternoon
so so blog
too bad
im only rating 24 now
(petulant sigh)
what does it all matter now
the beach beckons
the natives are restless
the earth revolves
dont hate yer lives
jaime r yer on the money honey
pull ripcord
disconnect

muse, am i losing it?
theres a hand on my shoulder
faces in old photographs
the cold sea knocks the breath out of me
the sand is viscous
everything trying to suck me under
nothing suckles me anymore
i have ingested 2 grams of life
i am seeing things
flowers burst forth in bloom before my
astonished eyes
music fills me with joy
a package arrives from someone i glimpsed in a film
handed on to me now
oophoi emits from my music device
i crave to thank the man who delivered me
of this space music in san francisco
im smitten
goji juice washes away my 51 year hangover
the beautiful lord vishnu preserves and protects
the happy lord ganesha smooths our way
that someone filled with so much love
could create all this just astounds me
intelligent design…?
every tiny fucking piece of sand lovingly
dreamed up by our god
who sends us miracle upon miracle
every golden day
the sun in the sky
the moon at night
the sacred rivers
the elementals
everything has spirit
nothing which has lived will ever cease living
nothing that is dead will ever live
like a loving father,
and i realise this now…
like a loving father
wincing at the pain we must endure
no way we can understand everything now
like trying to explain the precepts of surrealism
to baby bumper
no way we can dig the whole picture from here
i am in love with everybody and all things
because they are you
always the trees
the trees withold their meanings from me
how many trees have i myself been
how many times
over n over
did my soul stagger in wood
my roots deep in earth
i groaned to move
and in secret ceremonies
i did leave my bark n branches
and i frolicked with other spirits
in the arcadian night
which was warm and dreamy
when men cut down trees
ah……
what are we doing?
how can all these trees be cut down
its like cutting off your own fingers
lord if you would fill me with magic
i could stop this
how can i love the rapers and pillagers ?
i would blast them
and become as bad as them
everything seems to have an opposite effect
you push one way
you go the other
oh the arcadian evenings
the mysteries on the tip of my tongue even now
im remembering everything now
were you ever there?
how you would love me to invoke those nights
with my words
how deep you would like to go
into the arcadian night
and the lemurian nights
the jungle all around waiting
and the nineveh nights
and the atlantean night
and all the nights
and the things that occur
in the darkness
the sweet sweet warmth of the others
the rituals, the wine
yet it eludes me
as always
clouds outside in shapes of dragons
the children have a fishtank
bananas are expensive after the cyclone
eve and aurora are becoming always more beautiful
words music pictures fill my head
the “straights” are back in my life
im a hippy
i was hooked at thirteen
i had no chance
i love long hair
i love flowers
i love pot and acid
i love peace and vegetarianism
i love nature especially the wonderful trees
i love the deep mysterious ocean
i love the wide open skies
i love space rock in all its forms
i am a spirit buried in flesh
i long for the vastness of space and eternity
its 1 15 on an eternal saturday afternoon
sydney sunk in its hedonism
its bridges
its beaches
its gangs
its ugly suburbs
its beautiful leafy esplanades
its nightlife strip clubs brothels private booths
its criminals and local colourful identities
its rocknroll stars on the dole
its geniuses driving taxis
and its idiots running the big monster companies
sydney swallow me up this afternoon
we’re gonna walk down the promenade
and i need to be swallowed by you
and i want no more significance
no more extra sensory overloading stuff
i just want to walk and talk
thats all
the sky has changed
clouds appear
over and out

the trees are whispering to me
its sydney
its thousands of seconds
who are you?
every thing is a signal to me
what is happening to me?
into what are you transforming effortlessly?
alchemy?
have i cracked the code?
august strindberg burning his hands black
sulphur/the crucible/the retort
philosophers stoned indeed
am i crazy?
is this an onset of madness?
and why now?
the silver clouds superimposed on a peach sky
i tell you i love to be 51
subtle powers
have you any idea?
cosmic messages and wild geese chase
the patterns of the birds has a meaning
how could it not?
my kitchen darkens
my thoughts turn to god
all that love he has for us
expressed in so many ways
in the spectacular heavens
in the intricate designs of nature
for letting us live these lives
oh so many luxuries
we are living it up
purpleleaved trees buckle in the wind
you may forget something you really should remember
it seems i hear them
a child said my name in the marketplace
i found two shells in a unused drawer
music permeates my brain now
day and night
im swimming in it
i feel that fucking galaxy sliding away
like a slide sliding up the neck of a distorted reverberating guitar
i feel the moon pull my soul each night
i opened a little box and found a silver plectrum
i mentioned your name accidentally to someone
i dropped a coin in a well and i wished for……
i am navigating the networks
i am in the system now and getting stronger
i have interpenetrated certain planes
under your skin
but im out here
totally unreal
everything you have ever read here
has been fiction
any resemblance to anything else
is unlikely usually
i saw a tiny grey birdling in a tree doomed to die
i could not help it
can you feel this?
and can you feel this?
and can you feeeel this?
im everywhere baby
but so are you
there you are a point in space and time
are you beautiful?
dont make me laugh
last nite we drank riccadonna wine + extra nice things
romance
what remains of the sky is white
inside my own continuum
i experience human pleasure
the elements are defined
the opposites are reconciled
the mystery is temporarily delayed
gravity set aside
logic defied
conditions gratified
implicit in life
but always rushing into the future
and what must always await us there
im a voyager
im a traveller
im down here on the surface
im underneath all that snow
wham! a shock
a sudden departure
beware
read between the lines
i can tell you almost understand
i can feel the crooked pulse in my fingers
alpha and omega
hey up and hey down
i am what you say i am
i am so close
so close, so close
so close to breaking
into it
or out of it
can you tell if its true?
what do you know?
are you awake now?
im still here
interpreting the stars
reading the dish suds
the clock tick tick tick
never tock
a stormy night comes down
we welcome each other like brothers
i am disposed to rambling
i live and i breathe
i am here to observe
god says this is all for you
i say i will tell people
he says good
they dont seem to notice
the oceans of fish
the nights of stars
the gorgeous desert
the mysterious nordic winter
the veins in the leaf of the oak
i say how could they not see
darkness envelopes me
we lose our connection
end

well what do you know?
no tell me what you know…
the bluesman
greyday coldfeeling
still travelling but not moving feeling
everything a little outta focus
like someone smudged my world
i gotta lotta things to think about
i started out one thing
i ended up another
26 years ago i was a malchick
demanding the spoils of this world
now im an olde hippy somehow become
a locus which disparate individuals occaisionally frequent
you think you know who i am
the more you think you know me
the less you do
its a new guy here everyday folks
ruefully surveying the wreckage
eyeing up the opportunities
making notes
comparisons
november 22 looms like a maw for ya!
my darling mother told me she read all my u.s. blogs
“first thing everymorningson” joycie says down the phone
sorry bout the swearing mum i guiltily offer
“thats allright son ” she says
“i’ll never change you n you’ll never change me”
tell me then dear mother
why did i not inherit that cool quality of yours
of never getting all nostalgiac or schmaltzy
or emotional or all carried away with yerself
i wish i had your detachment
but maybe growin’ up in the blitz can do that for ya…
ah but my dad, he was a nostalgic cat
he anticipated n felt loss
when the holiday ended
when the evening with his friends would draw to a close..
it was from my dad i got that side
and from my mum i got resilience
and a good english sense of when something
was a load of bloody old nonsense
i was telling joycie today
that more n more
i rely on my dads approach to life
particularly in dealing with strangers
he had a jokey way of putting people at ease
i remember once
in a workshop in fyshwick canberra
i was waitin for my dad to do somethin’ or other
and this bloke there introduces this geezer to my dad
and my dad says oh yeah n you got a pretty wife havent ya?
and this geezer says (weirdly)
yeah n you can fuck her if ya want….
and my dad looks around slightly bemused
and says
no thanks, im not that kinda bloke
now i reckon it was the perfect rejoinder to this
aussie yobbos weird little mindgame
and he delivered it with such timing
n you know
maybe i was the only one in that room who appreciated
my dads wry humour…
but i dunno
thats how im tryin’ to deal with this, dad, if you read my blog out there
and with the kids too, dad
all your olde lines
i love to say em
i love to tell em off the way you told me off
like half a joke
the way that got joycie so mad
when you were sposed to be “chastising that child, les”
anyway
thats my strategy with this fuckin world , dad
play it fer laughs like you did
all that poutin’ n posin’ n carryin’ on
is fer turkeys
this is my real life
n my dad woulda loved to go round
n played his piano in theatres in the u.s.
and he woulda tolda loada gags as well
so ive turned into some kinda english vaudeville
down the enda the pier comic as well
im letting this thing go wherever it wants
i cant be bothered tryin to control it
if its funny so be it
if its tragic ya gonna get both barrels
if its psychedelic hold on to yer carpet
if its real its gonna be hyper real
if its bullshit ya gonna know straight away
im a handsome olde devil may care got nothing to lose
vagabond scruffy hippy trippy namedropper
oh well steve, you just wont believe me today
i aint australian
i aint english neither
im old but im not wise
but im fuckin wise to you sunshine
dont come the raw prawn on this blogg-king
im back in the low 20s on the charte
the tours over n now everything will slump
no no fiends
think of the gallons of drugs im gonna do
the songwriting contests
the solo gigs
the crunches aust electric tour
all the yoga
all the chi gong
all the arcane quotes from yer fave songs
my sublime reinterpretation of hinduism
to justify my hedonistic bohemian carryon
come on nevets pull the other one
they gonna keep coming back
its just dawnin’ on ya isnt it you olde fraud
they like this stuff you write everyday
take it easy olde bean
relax
strike a pose
do a painting
pull whatever the hell that is outta yer toe
AND
FOR GODSAKE
grow up!!!!