The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

cold fire

baby to my amazement

coddled winter nestling in on thin ice

meet me on memory street i’ll be dressed as human

you must remember me i was in your class

now you some withered imp simply sinning for good

i’m beginning to feel that numb appeal

i long to be lashed by river reeds

i long to be gashed by hammer and red nails

i long for an end to window pain and old times ache

why dont you answer my thoughts anymore

i chase you down in a sideshow in an alley

way down in an operation run by magic dan

i buy 3 tickets one for each world

i buy 3 drinks one for each thirst

i watch 3 times one for each eye (I)

honey i take out my rainstick and i let it slide

oh yeah she deal me king king jack 6 9

huffing and bluffing i overturn the buffet laden with K

that little cheater you oughta meeta no one fucking sweeta

that slender siren cryin’ her shames man theyre just names and games

that cruel cool angel fish i bet you wish you never licked the dish

she dressed like a nurse but i feeling worse and i need to rehearse

she tell me how she want it n she tell me slow

she says oh honey not yet oh no

now the blues may have blinded me but i can still see italy

i mean champagne corks may have blown my sight

but i can see her crouched on under night

now hang on now hang right there on

aint i too old for you i hear my self saying

is a mountain too old for a cloud says she

but hang on now hang on right there on

aint you too young for me i hear me selves saying

is the lamb too young for the panther says she

(chorus of greek women)

is the world too round for the burning sky

is the ocean too deep for the roaring whale

is war too cheap or bloody or wrong

why every soldier should be singing along

i stopped to listen as a mist thickens

is the past too gone for a man to remember

is the future too far for soothsayer to see

is the moon too cold for the blazing sun

is the sun too much for the blushing moon

do the stars fucking care about our lives and our dreams

does the darkness anticipate light with a shiver

the quivering river has entered the sea

and a giant has drunken the sunken underwater

and a god sits alone at the side of a shore

watching the tide roll in and out more

we watch it on tv we watch on the screen

we watch how somehow they colourised the water more green

we notice the god with his dumb LA accent

last week hes in rehab getting off rhubarb boy whatta bastard

last week crashed his porsche into a pillar

he flew into a zoo n set free a gorilla

introducing our saviour unto his killer

verlaine the poet and thomas the miller

under the milky rilke and thriller

suddenly

i wake up from this poem askance

i fallen asleep in some gazelles pants

i ‘m dreaming in bed and living in trance

off of malarkey street down by romance

where the chimneys erupt in a plume of marantz 

where you ask for a sleep and they all say perchance…?

ok its ten oclock thats enough

(sound of it being switched off)

goodnight …….!

red echelon

unapproachable maw of time

dog end tatters of an age

improbability in the unlikelihood of uncertainty

a rainy jungled mess of a day

i am a wolf in a strange citified gangling wrangled place

i am a wolf despite my pinkish mansuit

pegged out i crawl mainstreet all rushing fluff and lippy droll

my instinct synched to sunken natures unnatural tides

wind rides the trees in threes i raw on all fours

famishing snow my hotel more den of iniquitous silence

my growling belly my howling telly my bubbled grapelli

my coat full of pine needle ice white frozen dragons blood

i smoke the bones of dry dreams i snort the dust of derision

i fondle the emptiest dolling mannikins

i know a sorcerous caster a damn fine woman

i mind shifted shafting her softest softness

oh great bliss can be had in this and no other

come delve into opportunity you gawking birds

all you buffoons observe my gorgeous protocol

now i sneak down corridoring halls past mauve walls

knock knock knock at the door of a lamb

my tick tock lock against her door jamb

i produce my ID as i press her paws

i leap up with a great flourish

(i discourage imitation and cat flattery)

they may slander me but gander me now

old and grizzly i maybe still motion blur i become

i ravenous cavernous carcass i swoop on the coop

hen again and again

bite right through light and dark

lamb damn i am looking  for who dealt a good ram

nevertheless a blessing for a mess like me

a catastrophe a hungering tragedy

my name is black thirteen

and i’ll be back

between

the black window

golightly the caterpillar on the leaf

soar like a fish in the deep blue sea air anywhere

burnlike fire flies set the day alight or down

gnome deep under tree hammering out a song

a gold ring upon a pretty finger all along

merry old may christmas every day say dont i know you

where the gossamer web meets the shuddered leaf

where the diving bird hits the solid lake

where the reddening sun collides with the falling moon

where the serpent like roots coils upon a bad mans grave

where the sharpened thorns catch the virgins flesh

scarlet drop of blood upon a snow drifted mirror surface lagoon

a blue crane it was so long ago it flew alongside the embittered road

do you remember a flightless winger entered your lens unrefracted

the wee shadow man who lurks under flowery beds

the sprite delighting in tormented rose cheeked babes

the wicked child who pulls the wings off bats

the goblin freaked fuck witch with no breeches

the mescaline and feminine agendas of our vegetal friends

io ao io i adore thee pan i adore thee excelon my queen

in tir na nog i stayed awhile yes sneer you knaves t’is the truest thing

in tir na nog a lovely maiden met me at the edge of this plane

quickly fine sir ere this portal close says she sweeter than i can suppose

and as i crossed into that mysterious wood

why all my old life lost to me all gone existing in just memory

for i tarried longer than my tomorrows should have allowed

yes you can laugh you minions of machines and crooked queens

in tir na nog where wonders interpenetrating our mundanity

in tir na nog where zebras and peacocks wander

see our saviour with his jaguar see our saviour in the amazon

see our king of faery dressed in finest mail

riding a purple and vermilion dragonfly he broke in himself

holding his sceptre of razored jet inset with tiny pearls

but he clipped the wings of his slaves

and he fed his enemy kings to a toad

yes this world is not the only world

your time is not the only time

a day will dream you will all seem strange and funny

because everything we knew and did was somehow wrong

yes you can grin you jackals and monkey men

but the time of magic will come again

against my grain

steam congeals into ice

spirit condenses into flesh

they say animal turned into human

but ive never seen that happen

voice in another room : but youve seen the opposite….

look i dont want any trouble

i just want to change the world and go home

i just want a cuppa tea and watch some telly

i just wanted to rule the universe..oh what a mess i have made…

last night i was not dreaming as i lay deep awake

one of my souls then left its hearts chamber

and exited straight through the door of the crown

the minute i put me foot down on the os-celerator

you know i’m a pretty sharpshooter on my own plane

i took down the wing coz it drove me insane

i flew into your mountain in the cold astral rain

i am here both by choice and the law once again

i am here to be tried near these piers of my thane

undone by the sons of the evil unslain

unmeasurable things i bring back for perusal

look faint-hearted sword oh damascus inlaid

a diamond geezer i am with divine spam

the violent gods send all of their thoughts to me

i publish them on the net like fish poetry

one  god up in heaven

one god in the sea

one god in the earth

one god here in thee

one god in the fire who sent you to me

one god in the death for who else could it be…?

these fragments and morsels that feed me most nights

i suck up the glamour and i freeze from the slights

and  drove round in my falcon under black and white lights

i stopped in the graveyards and got into fights

i went down in a heap convinced i was scaling new heights

i forged my identity which violated my rights

i entered the blindspot outside the gun sights

i created a war out of maybes n mights

i invented a golem dressed in loose tights

who fucked up my lines and lost all my kites

who lucked out at last last time they did rites

who hung around like some stalagmites

in a cave full of trolls and ‘orrible wights

god i must be dreaming i was walking towards a shore

jesus christ at my side as we walk through the dunes

wow hes talking english with a swedish accent like max von sydow

the saviours voice is so melodious it is so mellifluous

i am hypnotised i cannot concentrate on his sutras and mantras

steven its no good if you dont listen

says that glorious voice so warm and so damn mild

(almost like the voice of a child)

his voice has the quality of every great symphony

his voice i can feel it way down in the ground

yet high in an ether unturned by a moon

sweeter than honey preceding a swoon

more insinuating than a mining boon

more devastating than a forty eight crash

more trepidation than a honeymoon rash

i wake in a sweat i open the door

everythings changed ; its jus’ like before

god i gotta lay off the uranian figs

the physician from greece has been seen at your digs

hes on the guest list for some of my gigs

the ones i’m not doing on account of the rain

it couldnt be helped

it’ll come round again

yeah i crashed into your mountain

in the cold astral rain

i am here by both choice and the law once again

a complete blast

and the woman stepped out of the river

the deep and swirling euphrates

the warm and dark tigris

the lonely and sacred alph

the holy and healing ganges

and we come to a fork in the road

and we see we have been wrong all our lives

we have inflicted our own good on all we deem evil

we have murdered for life

we have tortured for love

we have invaded for peace

we have indeed fucked for chastity

yes as the book progresses you realise….

when you realise we are villains dressed as heroes

when you realise all that we have set in motion here….

when i was five i ran away from this world

yes i seemed to be here but i was off elsewhere

those dreams i was having…you dont expect me to believe…..?

and all the things i was born knowing and seeing

and all the things i could never ever learn

born to know but not to lead

born in doubt but not to follow

everything in life becomes dispensable in death

money debts children enemies

yes they will carry on

in the darkness or in the light

this world never began and it will never end

it was always here and everything upon it

no creation no evolution just permanence

our souls exist in perpetuity

we will play every part

the baron the drunk the pilot the wife

the son the sister the father the child

the dog and the star

each and everyone

they say we were once part of god

but fixated on autonomy we fractured

an infinite number of busted bits

tiny little lords of their universe

working their way up from worm to sun

pull on lives like you pull on coats

in one world an athlete in another lame

in one time a king in another a slave

in another youre rich in another youre poor

youre everyone youre no one

this must happen because you desired to experience everything

i laugh at the simplicity of science and religion

missing the point as always as ever

solemnly swearing on this book or that

why everything happens on one million levels

if you dont take it all into account then what have you got?

its fucking hilarious when the preachers and PhDs

tell you this world was created by this means or that

idiot eden or some primeval soup yeah i dont think so

i think we cant even believe how incredibly groovy this all is

i say groovy because no other word can express my delight

my delight as i observe the mechanisms in place

interlocking elements across all dimensions

the masterstrokes of an author

something everywhere that yet cannot be found

too huge for your little books

too much for our language to contemplate or bear

i know it i always knew it

humanity is perverse

all the people you help  will burn you the most

and you always keep turning into things that you hate

christ and buddha show us other ways to live

but truly, who have you met that can live like that?

as i approacheth old age i tune into to subtle things

the people i think of appear out of nowhere

because of my yoga because of my diet

because i am both sinner and saint embodied as one

because i am madder than a lake but saner than you can believe

because i have thrashed my mind ceaselessly before me

everything i have i have dreamed up

a spirit within me taught me everything

we all have that spirit but so very few will listen

given five daughters to atone for trespass against female

given ten years of heroin to atone for my trespass against man

i knock out my stuff(ing) without really trying

if i’m trying i must be wrong i guess

and the woman in the river

all white and naked

lilith i s’pose or some abstract eve

even the educated man is baffled by her charms

and an animal sits at the seat of the soul

gimme some mumbo jumbo to reconcile lust

gimme some esoteric conundrum as an erotic frame

my genius must create now he’s all wound up

he must sacrifice the evenings of women to alter his shrine

he must move through the virgins and widows and aunts

he must have all the nurses and waitresses and queen

he must dodge all the hags and the harpies

he must avoid the slatternly sunsets and the cold frigid dawn

oh he’s ever so sly like a fox in a hutch

oh hes ever so greedy like a snake in a hole

and all the time i’m wearing away

and all the time everythings getting quite slim

i am charged with great power

i am weaker than piss

i drip fluid prose

then i cant say my name

i think we are all on the wrong side

weve been cheering for bad guys all of the way

the way that things are in this world we got going

a comedy a farce a hilarious tour de force

they take the good things away

they give you the worst

they tell you youre free

free to do as somebody says

the revolution must be in the heart

even so

it may seem that you never win…..

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The popular play Van Park will be performed for a limited time, in Melbourne, at Chapel on Chapel. Get your tickets soon!  Wed 21st March to Sun 1st April. Full details here  .

WIN TICKETS TO VAN PARK AND THE OPPORTUNITY TO MEET STEVE KILBEY

Place an order by midnight 31st of March 2012 via the church online store to go into the draw to watch Steve Kilbey perform with John Paul Young in the play VAN PARK at The Chapel Off Chapel in Prahran in Melbourne, Victoria. The tickets will be for the finale on April 1st and winners will get to meet Steve after the show. This entertaining play is currently on every night until the 1st of April and tickets can be purchased here.

VAN PARK – a musical comedy

Starring John Paul Young and Steve Kilbey

                   Writer/Director Greg Appel l Music King Curly

Win two tickets for the closing shows on Friday, Saturday and Sunday (finale show) and the chance to meet with cast of the play!

A huge hit at the inaugural Sydney Fringe festival – “Van Park” starring John Paul Young, Steve Kilbey and many more –  will play for two weeks at Chapel Off Chapel theatre in Prahran during March, as part of the Melbourne International Comedy Festival.

This musical farce is about a group of washed up rockers who wind up in a Caravan Park. Amongst these battle hardened creatures a sensitive young boy come of age.  Enter the love interest and let the music begin.  It’s theatre you might actually enjoy!

Just as his 1975 chart-topping song Yesterday’s Hero lamented a star’s fall into obscurity, JPY’s character in Van Park faces a similar fate – albeit one with a few more vices gleaned from the rock ’n’ roll lifestyle.

Van Park also stars another legend of the Australian rock scene – The Church’s singer, lyricist and bass guitarist Steve Kilbey, who’s character, interestingly, spends much of the show with a (cough) unusual phallic enhancement.

Van Park is written and produced by Greg Appel (Spontaneous) – who was one of the directors behind the very successful ABC documentaries Long Way to the Top and Bombora – the story of Australian surfing both were made with Paul Clarke who also collaborated on early stages of this musical. Van Park also features a live-on-stage soundtrack via King Curly, known among fans for their quirky and highly original sound.

Van Park is many things rolled into one. It is as much a touching story of an unconventional childhood as a critique on the excesses of hard living. But, ultimately, it’s a rollicking musical full of larrikin humour that’s plugged into an amp with the volume set to high.

“some genuinely entertaining elements in this show. JPY is a real trouper and in strong vocal form, Kilbey’s energy and presence light up the stage and Webb’s smoky, achy voice is to die for. There are a couple of very cool new songs – I Was Born in Shadow Land and Family Man – and some sterling renditions of classics – Yesterday’s Hero and Am I Ever Going to See Your Face Again?”

 The Age, 27.3.12

i love this play

i love the songs…..

I HAD A FUCKING BALL!!!!

sk (Steve Kilbey)

Venue: Chapel off Chapel, 12 Little Chapel St Prahran
Dates: 21st March – 1st April (not Mondays or Tuesdays), Preview 21st March
Tickets: $ 45.00 Full, $ 39 Conc
Times: Wednesday to Saturday 8.00 pm, Matinees Saturday 4.00pm,
Sunday 6.00 pm
Bookings: Chapel off Chapel.com.au (03) 8290 7000

light in light

i invoke the patience of a mountain

i swim in green green still warm water

the gentle rain and a golden curled child by my side

the flowers are brightly smeared onto watercolour viridian

my head whispers songs from long ago

under the water where everything is quiet and liquid

like childhood before anxiety sets in

like a warm room on a cold day

the sea has no colour it just mimics the sky

the sky has no colour it is an illusion of space

space has no colour it is an illusion of god

god has no colour it is an illusion of man

so anyway

today the sea appears to be grey so grey and so far away

today yesterdays fall through my ceilings

good yesterday bad yesterday

mostly ok yesterday

gentle autumn lonely graceful

the child looks to me for guidance

we chat and natter as we wind our way through the wet streets

the lawns are all iridescent now

the trees drunk on rain

lovely n lovelier

earth to kilbey earth to kilbey

in 1986 not content with all the other malarkey i was involved in

i release a book of poetry and an album of music by the name of earthed

earthed is an ambitious conceit and its a hodgepodge of styles

like i had the idea of doing this book/record thing

but i kept running out of real creative steam and

was sometimes doing it a bit by numbers

yet it does have good stuff too

firstly the book

well its called poetry but its really just a series of

only just slightly connected things

theres some flashes of brilliance and theres some real awkward tripe

some big ideas that i didn’t have the wherewithal then to execute

but always its ultra steve kilbey and all that you’d expect from him

circa 1986

yeah greek myths drugs music religion magic ancient history

all that stuff its dripping in it

and weird little vignettes and that kinda thing

its all mixed up

my life was a dream of pot and travel and music

it was like a living dream and some of that is transferred to the book

some of the book was taken from my previous book the crowd invisible

which only existed as a dozen or so copies photocopied and clipped together

so i nicked the best of that

and the rest i just wrote over a few months

later on in a second edition i added nineveh and the ephemeron

the former a series of poems revolving around the biblical city nineveh

the latter is about Erskine the magician in a series of prose poems

both are quite different from earthed and from each other too

however as i can’t write books and review them with any honesty

i don’t really know know how good  any of it is but at least its trying

trying too hard sometimes but it aint all just nothing

somethings coming through at least i hope so

the music contained on the earthed album is all over the shop

theres everything all of it instrumental

pianos howl sadly

cellos crunch

guitars scream in the surf

orchestras like a toy soldier band

grinding squirming basslines

its good its bad but its not that bad

theres shuddering drug like experiences

pristine little bits

noisy emotional things

some lovely sad melodies too

i did it all myself so there you go

the good and the bad that go along with one geezer

doing everything himself

eventually karmic hit released a version of earthed

with 8 extra tracks with me reading selected poems (gee)

i have a very limited number of these cds available

each one will include a new cd sized piece of art

and a (customized) signature

15 aust dollars including postage to SKP people

25 aust Dollars including postage for non SKP people

only about 25 or so left be quick if you like on the paypal

also coming within next 2 months earthed plus collected other poems

in updated book with a foreword by graham nunn

stay tuned !

love me

ADDENDA

mr d rundle had this to say on the matter of earthed

Steve

Read your comments on Earthed on the web (ps I’ve got about 5 different versions of it at least so I don’t need it again) –but can I just say you have way undersold it.

The first copy I got of this was an vinyl picked up second hand at rice’s book shop in newcastle – I was sort of just just becoming  a fan of the church, I’d bought and sold Heyday whilst at uni 3 or 4 times to and from the same shop (poor school student) . But it took me a long time (3or4 trade in’s) to realise how much I liked it and then eventually loved it!  After Heyday I’d gone through the back catalogue etc. Earthed came out  whilst I was at uni and I knew about it sort of wanted it but couldn’t get to sydney and didn’t have the pocket money for a new one but then it popped up at rice’s second hand like a gift from the gods probably not that long after it was released. At this stage I’d never seen the Church live (first time was the I think just pre release of starfish tour in Newcastle possibly 87 or 88 another story)

Anyway back to Earthed – this record sealed the deal for me – it made me a real fan of Steve Kilbey the musician not the rock star. The flow the sounds the instrumentation on that record just blows me away – it was like nothing else I’d heard before and nothing else I’d heard since. I was even more entrenched in how you played and recorded everything yourself in bedroom studio’s. It’s was so arty it’s what I call ‘Alternative’. It’s a journey from start to finish little excerpts that flow perfectly to the next song all sorts of weird subtle little noises – for me this album changed everything and I began collecting every thing you ever did from then on– began hanging out for the new stuff as soon as I could get it. Began annoying all my mates about how good a musician you were. Sold sealed and delivered that album is historically significant and an absolute masterpiece – it’s one of your best ever in my opinion and one of the most listened to – the only one’s I would have played more often is probably Priest and Remindlessness which are probably my all time favourite albums. I’ve loved everything you’ve ever done but earthed is definitely one of the special ones.

Regards

David Rundle