The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

in the wake up

in some deterministic universe

someone is waiting out there for me to write these words

in some cafe where its morning

in some happy time before now where my memory drifts

but the present spits me out here in coogee nsw

the 1980s are finally and safely over

i appear sitting here banging away at a computer far from my native land

hey i look alright in a not too bright light

yeah i been doing music over the last few days

finishing off the speed of the stars

which is me and FXK from ireland

this man is a dreamy character

we cook up some great new tunes for our record

barton price comes in and plays some excellent drums

what a total pro!

its great seeing a brand new piece of music  come to life

my intuition is working well i guess

this very pleasant music comes out easy when it does come

anyway that was yesterday and tonight it is now

so much happening so much standing still

saturday night is still out there and happening i suppose

we can imagine it even if we do not try

one million cold beers and one hundred thousand joints

countless pills n all the rest of it

things are very foggy out there in the mental plane

the red lights of a taxi blur to a crucifix

driving around looking for parties and drugs and music

i stay at home

as hours rush by then cascading slowly

my whole life has left me tired and burnt

what need of any company have i..?

i ask myself and receiving no reply

i wonder why

from my window i hear the big engines roaring down on the seaside strip

and planes flying in to land at mascot airport

next door in a garden some cooing lovebirds their exaggerated laughter

fragments of music on the night

and the tattoo parlour where you can get skulls and roses and snakes and devils

and the massage place you put your boots under the bed…

and shop thats open in the morning but closed at night

and another which is the opposite

ok its wednesday afternoon and i just remembered this

it will remain unfinished i guess

uriel nice

we imagine the long excruciating journey

by cart by horse by ship by foot

trudging in the dust of a caravanserai

the cold dawn and the empty coast

in a sky much younger than ours a reflection a mirage

to find purpose within the desert night and find something to eat

premonition indistinguishable from memory then

from now on each step is cautious and light

the whispering sands the murmuring stones

the grunting stunted trees

because the boy can hear the voices of everything

and all things do cry out to him

and the moon pulses through closed eyelids

bringing its usual pale nightmares outlined in the faintest pink glow

the twisted old devil man why cant he leave me alone..?

stumble ahead into storms on the red sea and on white mountains

snow swirling and slowly whirling now youre hypnotised and lost

at night we camped by the lotus pools and lagoons of some dead sultan

the fruit was delicious and easily plucked from the deserted orchards

but see the ghosts and colour them hungry

plunging into a green river filled with black crocodile

and then dislocated and dreamy in a white graveyard where you stopped and prayed

you heard one of the voices of god so clearly but then maybe it was gone

the clearest heavens remain silent it was wishful thinking

the rain and  we understand again

then the woman who took you aside in a kings great hall

and lay with you in sweet chambers of some new sin

then you knew how hard and easy life can be

when the sun rose in the sky the next day for you smiling

you felt pleased to wash it all off in parthian baths

and those who accompany you talking in pali and bengali

and the generosity of the one lord and lord buddha his incarnation

and as we begin to understand the sublimity of spirit

sacred heart of night burning on then in the indian evenings full of swans and flowers

lovely golden youth so blue against the brown water

the riddles of existence hammering and unanswerable in our dimension

the mind is conquered by the heart and the heart by the spirit

the opposite wave of love cancelling out any attack

soothing saintly eyes we imagine them filled with tears

compassion crushing down like a sorrowful gravity

feeling it inch by inch and ounce by ounce and then fathom over fathom

in the fields watching the farmers breaking their backs in long hot summer

and monsoon afternoons in the city in a kitchen

as you sat at a table drinking wine and eating a yellow dhal

with monks and lamas and priests of old gods

and you learnt that all is vibration

and you learnt to yoke yourself to the universe

and you studied the vedas and you practiced devotion

and you chanted in sanskrit and apprehended krsna and radha

and you realised love is the way

the only way

beyond indulgence beyond asceticism beyond intellect beyond power

seeking god in vibrant jungle and outlandish temple

and in the soldiers and in the merchants and in the slaves of kings

in paintings in books in word and always in song

and slowly and painstakingly

you became a rishi,  a yogi and a great magician

and your beautiful face turned towards home

as it became apparent

what you  had to do

stevens cat

lunacy is back on the table

we summon the waiter who appears with a flourish

the corazons we ordered..?

ah gentlemen…he sighs

inside his redlined waistcoat ticks the small gold watch given out by time out of its mind

the parrots mute and stuffed into their cages still manage to screech in the canopy

the knives and forks randomly akimbo glint

taking out his little book the waiter writes the word “loneliness” in oh such a spidery scrawl

outside the evening has absconded with anything it could find

wrapping flowers and bits of paper in the semi-darkness then whirling them off

down on  avenue di fiores where the lamplight shines through the trees all wavy and marine

where the guests at some elusive party laugh and clap

in the warm night air it seems to be coming from everywhere

yeah

i know

there was something missing though

in twilight canisters of gin and various other spirits

well maybe they also could contain the truth

when the mind goes blank then truth rushes in like a cyclonic hit upstream

coursing through veins like light

then exploding somewhere between heart and soul

the truth we can set free burns me

i sing

sweet conchita fleeter than a cheetah

sweet gabrielle accelerating gazelle

their husbands roberto and ben fascinating men

fascinating and waiting for their latest plate of amour again

and then a delicious sleepiness begins to overtake my hand

voices out there mingled with the wind and thinned out in sin

a whisper urges out of nowhere

and thats it really and dinner finally arrives

we are already dreaming that we are eating it

tiger skin jacket

blanket of wands

gentle diametric pressure of leaving ever so slightly

the music being two emotions at once

the ages rush past all over the place

the synopsis abandoned

the blunt dream that knocks you round the astral

look what you leaving behind

more succinctly the ether

gasp your breath…if thats what it is…

we are rising now like archangels on ketamine or something

we are detached we are travelling incognito

silver chord a slenderly thread

just by thinking somewhere you are sometimes there

whirling above and passing right through

vibration shaking the heavenly body

maybe somethings gone wrong back in the past..?

and as it all catches up with you

it just reaches forwards through the decades

and pulls you right out the sky

*****

perpetual stone of summer

i come around in the garden its three

in between webs of dewy intrigue the spider and fly

something  gnawing at yesterday and tomorrow

second guessing minute seeming

delving into the sea

on bended knee awaiting the night eve has unlocked

red flowers in the trees

crimson blood thuds around my veins

my heart doesnt know what to do or how fast to beat

as darkness falls from on high the soothing dusk

they are having a party in the courtyard

the booze has blown their minds they shout and they laugh

there are red and yellow lanterns and

a raucous merriment with emptiness at its heart

as i push my way through the throng

the weather is so balmy and perfect

the breeze caresses with promises of silk and spice and distant women

as you cruise down the main road towards the green grey pacific ocean

a street full of total strangers all estranged themselves

but oh peaceful and beautiful late than never summertime

crash into sunday and my wings flew off

burning imperceptibly as i enter another reality and its atmosphere

the flames of neglect licking the fuselage in a spiral

in my mind is all the things i know about music

who played this and who wrote that

millions and millions of tiny facts compressed into meaning and meaninglessness

observations experiments and things i did parrot fashion

all that i have gleaned and misunderstood

all of it is going round and round

suddenly coming up with answers

to questions i never asked

the mind furiously hurls facts anxieties opinions challenges and lies

as i cruise so cool down the avenue disguised as a tradesman

my mind keeps up its incessant barrage of data

all the people i see somehow resonate with me

i feel something as they drift and swirl and amble by

2 birds in the sky are a sign that i am to think of god

the clouds say something if only i could decipher it

the patterns in the concrete form faces and glitter minutely

the shops imploring and open, sucking the people through like krill

down to the mysterious body of salty water that contains all monsters unknown

it goes on forever dont you know?

why..? it flows out to the ends of the earth..!

anyway i’m sitting here on the steps

the world revolving around and streaking through space

although sometimes i do feel that…and wish that it was me driving it

through nebulae of glorious stars

in and out of the most pleasant cosmos

i swerve and i brake as the idiots all being dislodged and then fly  into the void

i accelerate orbit and the fools all fall away and up up up

as worlds collide on some dancefloor

and universes rupture unseen to your naked eyes

and the sea is so warm and grey and frothy

the children of the late summer gamble in her gentle waves

a fish and chip evening i guess full of simple satisfactions

relaxed and carefree yeah its easy to be

whole lotta ocelot 

another warm storm crackling with thunderbolt and flash

cheated of their minutes the hours all escape out into the rain

poor old heart skipping beats and black blood coagulates somewhere

the sap of a tree slowly smoking in the charcoal disc like moon

between shudders the old place emits its many spirits into the night

a damage done by cosmic rays peeling off the human veneer

a painting of life that never moves

the people come and go come and go

a sunken floor and cushions and some dressed up little monkey

endlessly repeating the syllable om the traffic distantly murmurs

summer summer summer summer

saturday night squashed into a series of ones and zeros

information being processed in the darkness of mind

long spooky seconds that suddenly snap or burst

a rapid lifetime compressed into gods one endless moment

in the tepid soft rain a whispering bird

`baby baby baby baby she seems to sing so tenderly

in the leaves outside this window the rustling feels in time

delicious breeze that comes running across the wavelets like a dancer

carrying news from oh so far away and long ago

oh and when the stars pop out i remember some music and a room i had forgotten

my father so young young young

hes all dressed up to go somewhere to go somewhere

i wonder if he sees the ghosts that all swarm around him

all during the war but now the wars like a dream to him

and europe awakens to a fragile pink dawn

and sydney sinks deeper and harder into its ever resilient night

the cheap blinds go click clack click clack in the lovely breezes

down by the motel seaside the palms and pines twist and gyrate

i embrace this coastal life like an addict taking everything he could find

a lagoon rippling in the shadow of the clouds and i’m crying all the time

theres a house being built down by the shore

being built but after fifty years still no one has moved in there

i imagine walking through its skeletal beams in the torchlight

through a mist my mother was calling me in for my dinner

but i was lingering with the other children

all afraid of missing out on a nocturne adventure

but that is not now and even i know that

now is quiet now is restful

now is stray droplets hitting the rusted bars

i am reminded of an under water orchestra playing fathoms down

so so far away

and the music they play summons back another humid story

the crescent of violins representing the present

the descent of the piano black notes stained slightly white

and the fog muted trumpet calling me faintly away

arking up

jesus christ i think i saw the worst movie ever made last night

what a shocker !

the cheapest cheesiest CGI stuff that’d be laughable if yer child did em

really?

the whole biblical story of noah perverted needlessly into this?

its got the production value of a nineties wargame DVD

the stuff thats been chucked in there is so fricking unrealistic you will writhe

russell crowe as noah, right?

thats gotta be unrool ..!

that tough gladiator and solid all round geezer.

a pretty good actor too if he’s in a good film

anthony hopkins too

god i hoped they paid him well..!

what an absolute amateurish shambles

no…worse than amateurish it smacks of cynicism

and the arrogance as 2 hollywood knuckleheads try to improve upon a classic

do you remember the green mist in “voyage of the dawn treader” ?

do you remember the insipid stinker they did called “troy”?

that preposterous notion that some b grade philistine working on his laptop

can actually radically change Homer or biblical stories and make them better?

every stupid thing is milked of its obviousness by a new hollywood invention

noah now lives in a wasteland that would makes your local quarry look like tahiti

a blackened desert of nasty weird shit

noah sure is buffed up tho for a guy who eats tiny microscopic bits of lichen or whatever

then theres a weird animal hunted by the evil hunters

this weird creature and this weird substance that glows and..wow! expodes…gee…!

and the super kitted out as goth weird bad guys are mining this exploding beautiful stuff

and oh yeah oh yeah

theres these other creatures called the watchers with glowing red eyes

yeah they do look like the thing as countless reviews have indeed pointed out

laughably (again ) so

when i say laughably i do mean that at this point i laughed out loud

the watchers are fallen angels and they they are trapped in lego bodies

with glowing red eyes and talking in voices with distortion

they are indeed laughably laughworthy

it is impossible to take anything like this seriously i mean c’mon..!

none of this is in the biblical version

which was itself nicked from gilgamesh

and herein is the problem

the bibles noah is a good taut story

we see noahs faith and doubt and belief

there is an angry unseen god who is about to destroy his world

we see the animals

we imagine the animals as they are called

the lions walking into the ark with the lambs

the giraffes the gazelles the kangaroos the great bears

oh wow there is so much for a camera to film there

or to superimpose with modern gadgetry or however..

but oh no no noah!

the animals are reduced to quick cheap shadowy shots en masse

and guess what? noahs got a drug to keep em all tranked out for the voyage

and come to think of it anthony hopkins gave rusty a biblical micky finn

(as i heard one wag describe it )

and rusty goes tripping out of his skull

man the NSW water police would effin do noah for driving an ark around Sydney Harbour

whilst valve bouncing on a sacred mushroom latte or whatever that was Methuselah laid on him

then theres all the tiresome argy bargy with the villains

its all like a tenth rate version of lord of the rings

everything looks like the budget has been slashed by jack the ripper

you could have a better biblical look on an iphone in Newtown on a muggy day

indeed the characters are ultra black clad alice cooper lookalikes

especially lead bad geezer Tubal-cain (for christs sake!)

a descendent of that bad boy cain who murdered his lil bruthah

and then the 2 hollywood writers decide to grapple with that thorny old question:

where does the bible get all the chicks?

for example

after cain had killed abel he wandered around an unpeopled world

yet somehow he bumped into a chick..!

and then populated a continent

so in the cheesy noah dvd i am gawking at in disbelief

noahs sons dont all have wives

and the one wife that they do have is already barren because noah saved her at

a deserted exploding doo-dah mine and we saw the arrow in her side

are you with me people?

and noahs obsession  now is to end the human race

so there will be none after him

meanwhile we see the armies of Tubal-cain (puh lease!) getting ready

for their big CGI fight with the lego monsters who work for noah

of course it has to be this obvious war and hatred

and not the mistrust and unease of the biblical story

as the onlookers sussed that noah had been right and the deluge was upon them

what a wonderful chance missed to explore all those emotions

but the dolts who wrote this comi-tragedy have no time for that

there is an epic battle (oh ha ha ha ha )

and then the geysers open up and in an instant the flood begins

(not the long long days as the weather gradually changed

and  the storms began to gather and the onlookers were slowly filled with doom…

a la bible)

then finally the girl from harry potter who was barren has twin girls

and as she stands on her CGI boat against the CGI sea

with Noah in yet another wig threatening to murder her new born twin baby girls

i say to scarlet who is watching this movie with the rest of us

look scarlet thats eve and aurora..!

the absurdity of is too much

because so silly is this film and so utterly dislocating is it in its ridiculousness

that it might as well be eve and aurora

it would make as much sense as anything else

and so we are all laughing and crying

(and some slightly bemused i ruined their DVD for the night)

oh my sweet goth jehovah!

this film is the worst film i have ever seen

im sorry

but it is

chance to die and turn to mould

i gotta letter from a very nice man

his sister in law was dying

she was a massive church fan along with her sister

was there any chance i could maybe visit her?

well i asked my dad who lives on in my heart and i come to him with moral dilemmas

immediately he says go there slim…right now!

i get my 12 string guild and i jump on the train

to me there is no question of saying no to this gig

it is quite clearly the right thing to do

tricky though because you dont wanna feel too proud of yerself either

sit down and shut up kilbeys ego!

this is not about you

after an hour on yon train

i am met at the station by brother in law and husband of ill lady

they are lovely guys altho the husband is sad and i immediately start to feel sad too

i soak up peoples emotions nowadays and i have no shield

we go up to the room

Shes in there with her sister and her two early teenage sons

all of them are incredibly nice and incredibly sad too

Jenine is sitting there in bed dosed up on morphine

she had had some hope but a few days before those hopes were dashed

the cancer was in other organs

it was a matter of days now before she would succumb

Jenine was warm friendly shy brave and considering the circumstances quite cute

she was only 49

my dad takes over and i manage to say a few jokey things and we all laugh

all my arguments dilemmas and problems are forgotten

Jenines grace under pressure is inspirational

i sing her a few songs which i forget the words for

this is my toughest and most important gig

somehow my ramshackle singing n playing bring a warmth

if i had been perfect it would have been inappropriate

we talk we laugh a bit and i left

Jenine and i tell each other “i love you”

and i had never meant it as much as then

i said maybe i’ll see you soon

and at that we both teared up a little

then i got dropped off at russell kilbeys place

and he and i and sis in law amy and nephew logan

had a  bushwalk and a swim in secret spot only russell used to know about

(it recently featured in a magazine much to his chagrin)

Jenine and i stayed in touch on the phone from there on in

we texted a few times every day

i thought about her an awful lot

i went on holiday with the fambley after that

a very kind man who does not want to be named lent us his holiday flat

i woke up from a nap on the second day

Natalie is sitting there crying

Bowie is dead she said

my phone had at least 25 messages confirming this

i cannot begin to tell you how that made me feel

i havent come to grips with that yet

bowie was the nazz with god given ass…after all

he made half a dozen of the best records ever at least if not more

he made some mediocre records too

and he made some records i could respect but i could not, for the life of me, like

i never met him or even came close to him

i saw him once in 1988 glass spider tour in LA

i was totally underwhelmed believe it or not

i was totally underwhelmed by T Rex as well… so what?

Bolan and Bowie and Beatles…thats pretty much 95% of kilbey right there

then comes outpouring of grief

a lot of revisionism here

main stream rags hailing him who would have been disgusted by ziggy in 1972

stupid tributes from irrelevant idiots who knew very fucking little about him

one silly woman spends a whole page saying how she bumped into him

and secured and interview and its all about HER

eventually she says something like

oh yeah we talked about his music his bisexuality and his fans…

and thats it?

well what the fuck did Bowie say about all of that?

we will never know

*

Some newspapers asked me my opinion but it was too late i was offline

i missed my chance to chime in

i watched the video for lazarus and i found it to be morbid and nihilistic

once again i admire it to the nth degree but wish i had not watched it

soon people began to write to me demanding i comment on it

others implored me not to die and to be careful

after the short but relaxing holiday

i returned to sydney

Jenine was still around but now she was at a hospice

i was thinking of getting my arse on the train

when brother in law texted

going to visit Jenine do ya wanna come?

go to hospice

in one week Jenines health has deteriorated noticeably

shes on oxygen and the morphine is flowing

i am in pain and so tired steve…she had texted me

still she sat up a little

she was starting to get a bit drifty like she would close her eyes and she’d be off

still she brightened up a little and i delved into the les kilbey joke book

oh youre so tanned from your holiday..! she says

nah thats just dirt because i never shower… i say

etc etc

we talk

we hold her hands a little

her husband is there watching his beloved wife slip away

i hope my husband isnt jealous says Jenine and we all laugh

shes done some drawings of her sons she wants to show me

a friend who was her bridesmaid and childhood friend says goodbye

it is the most heartrending thing to see them say goodbye forever

after about 40 minutes Jenine asks to have a sleep

i love you she says

i love you i say

again this is the truth

and that was it

today they texted me she went last night at 11

thank you for doing that they said again

no no no this was a beautiful thing

Jenine has inspired me

She will stay with me

but really Jenine gave much more than she took

she was courageous and as cheerful as its humanly possible to be

at least when i was there…

she had a sense of humour

she was cool

my suspicions that this life really is just a fucking dream are more justified than ever

death remains a mystery

we all must die and that day will come when it wants to  not when you decide

now with the all other rockers all suddenly dying

more people asking me to do em a favour and not die

man i aint intending on it

i gotta lotta good music in the pipeline

and i got 5 fine daughters who are all the nicest people you could think of

i got a bunch of good friends and i dont hate myself so much any more

i got a few squeaks and scratches still to be sorted and my teeth my hearing n my eyesight are not good

im trying to hang in there

but i tell ya this

when i do go i hope i can do it with as much bravery as Jenine

i said to her you better be waiting there for me when i get there

she said

I will!

zapped

resurgence of influence

paradox within its own flux

i author of my own release

within the tentacled sea replete with its odysseus

within the feathered air falling nowhere

within the cities of eastern potentates i gurgle the plonk

within a ladys quarters mortifying the flesh wound with salve

within the glade in forest spring you said some god had promised us everything

within terminal five of a foreign airport i hold court in the lift

yeah drink a cup of kindness yet baby yeti its another year in the future

my childhood oh it has flown by i thought it should last much longer

the rising sun that was in my dreams now set in grey warm evenings

i struggle with the words like a titan in a deep dungeon

chiselling poetry on the zeitgeists psyche with syringe full of forget

my day job as night porter at the morning markets on tuesday afternoons

Monet wont buy you everything but damn close by Vermeer

i stumble through your museum a philistine damaging your little crowns

i jumble up your one thousand names and i say them all just for fun

i am a barbarian let loose upon a memory

my world of remorse off course in an unknown galaxy

i strap on my axe turn my back on an enemy

this is the house where the king will be born

this is the time as if arrows could sing

this is the time in intelligence we gleaned

suddenly though

youve had enough

glimmer time

impossible soft summer night

with the sea at the end of the road

with all the fernery and greenery

plants growing everywhere out of pots and out of darkness

you have arrived here tonight received unto this night

subtle meek cool and warm

oh charming evening where faint effulgence of celebration still lingers

people laughing talking drinking meeting at tables before the beach

you slip amongst them unseen untouched unthought of

a dream from your bed you have been pulled

the waves crash on the shore

that delicious salty smell in the ether

whirlwind of colour now smeared to purple in the sky

lanterns in the trees and eventide birdsong

theyre playing the drums and dancing around

yellow sand like a slipper

yellow stars like dim diamonds

you see it all before you like a moving painting

the moon and the clouds and the cities and the ghosts

there will be a future that we will have no part of

all of this will still go on…oh yes…without you and me

we have no way of knowing we have no way of seeing

so soak up this evening before it is gone

and for now let your dream ring on