The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

how to get in
how to begin
how to unravel and travel beyond
how to penetrate to the heart of the start
where it all comes bubbling out like some geyser
the story
the one hundred years war
the guns to the left of em
the shields and the javelins
the net and the fork
the shot the strike the hit the vein
the rush of black death flying up to meet you
as you fall out of life
i been born
i been killed
i been you
i been me
i feel the quiet movement of this island
this prison colony
this settlement somewhat east of eden
in the short day of man
in the west of the darkening sky
clouds lit up like red gold dragon
the psalms black in shadowed outlining
crash the staggered margins of night
the dying sun shrieks out in a final scarlet orange burst
black breaks thru the purple
out pop the starry stars
like beacons in the nightie night
as the birds shut their traps
and the spiders fold their legs
and the swirling motes of dust suddenly vanish
the orange fire gone from the skies
twinkly twinkly lights come on
in cosy warm places all up in down the hills
groovy people kick back looking at glossy coffee table shots
i inhabit every room briefly
my antennae fix on each place splitting seconds
sydney flits through my mind
i drag sydney into my head
and i pull the individuals into my memory
i erase some memories to fit in the new ones
and accidentally find my childhood inaccessible
i open the page
but it is blank
in its place is nothing
let it go
nothing really you could know
i rapidly roll into my childhoods void
i reconstruct myself from a biography i red
i reconstitute august and everything after
(but ask davem not to be counting any more crows)
these are my familiars
the black crow in the mourning sky
the mangy panther with south american jesus
white hippy moses
the reluctant powerful vain confused old unprofitable prophet
struggling to lead his people to the promised blogge
given from on a high
written in pixels
transmitted all over this world instantly
as if by magic
blah blah blah blah blah
i zoom out the airport in a car
groovy music blasts from the darkness
in a little room david bowie neukoln plays
a heater pumps out hot air
all the wars i fought in
the blood pumping
straining up a ladder into an arrow through me eye
my brain babbles on even as i’m kicking the bucket
accumulation of images
sudden longing for ….ah…fleeting sensations….
a finger comes down on a symbol
type out my life in the english language
oh england neverfar
never far from my mind
like in hastings on a sunny sunday morning
and that smell of toast and eggs that hotel smell
and we just won the blimmin’ war didnt we
and our dads come home
and mums got her bloody hair done
and we go down to hastings
and we play cards at night and eat lyons family brick and…
the phone rings!
dvd burns and high quality transfer intrudes
england vanishes into the david bowie night
the tower flashes red on black blankness now the sky
this is australia mate
get over it
get into it
get downunder for stealing a loafers bread
yeah i’m a lime eating limey sublime in the limelight
yeah i’m a pomegranate eating pommy pow wallop snap
i got products coming down the pipeline
oh my black boxed set of prints and my voice
19 virgins of me and my little reveries
my so called reveries
i paint quaint in saintly pane
i speak squeak creak peak antique
i play my lay my day lay au fait le faye so frayed yet unafraid
au soy lait
perhaps i am really totally ok
and it is all of you who are
contagiously insane…..!

we adjourn to some white room
life flashes past lightspeed
(note to performers : should be done fast)
a child in mine own image
electronic symphonia
the elegaic sweep of sand n strings
the drums sombre rattle
the mournful echoes of the french horn
the women sing of fire
the men sing of ash
the world cant listen anymore
winter sunlight bleaches everything dazzling titanium
the old snake in eden would have loved the sun today
he coils around liliths black waist
he probes the air with his forked quickened tongue
he sizzles in the lovely light
in his dreams where he strangles the world
in his scales complex patterns
in his liquid eyes of evil
winter mr winter old man winter
the lion in winter
mangy moses in white hippy winter
father what is that thou holdeth?
ah childe, surely it bee the mirror of winter….
then the music stops
the ears ring on n on
listening to something from twenty years ago
now a constant electrick whine
all i have is that sunshine for now
a late burst on some winters day
falling straight into spring soon
the apple blossom in eden is lovely this time of year
maybe i am one spell away from real magic
maybe i am one asana away from real yoga
maybe i am one mile away
barque up the wrong tree
like alfred the great in the olden days
c’mon wessex !
england all ways on my mind
can we still be reconciled…?
the moors
the restaurants
the rainy streets of cambridge and sheffield
the leylines and stoned henge
how distant they seem in the colonies
in these antipodes like the south icy pole
in these obvious ends of the earth
some bizarre outpost i got exiled in
pretend and temporary cities in some old lords imagination
complete with freakish animals and hidden monsters
we look into the mirror of winter
scarlet kilbey her life all before her
me…..
maybe im one life away from you
maybe im sitting here in the sun
like in the ice of the pool
my mind goes pleasantly blank
the winter of mirror
the fleeting sun
as darkness gathers on one side
the clouds like little flocks of wandering sheepies
the moon appears like a white hole in the sky
what do you see in the winter mirror, old man?
i see that everything is how its s’posed to be
and that at the heart of everything
is something
called
nothing

the crowd in their seats
i see them all
i take them in
a voice emits from speakers
the music is loud up here
the electric piano is real loud
what am i thinking about
i see the places in the song
i think about london
as an outsider
a necessary point in the arc of this show
everybody putting their different things in
interpreting kevs great songs
over two hours of great songs
now its over again
for a while
cmon its gotta do the rounds, right?
it truly is the feel good summer smash hit blokkbuster musical
its an amazing show from beginning to end
tender country
to shattering rock
good show!
me…..somehow i surrendered to the moment
sk shut down a bit
and let the other guy out
it was a relief….
feeling much more rested today
after early night
no partying n drinking for me this time (if ever)
back home in the early afternoon
in time for…..

steve steve
a worried stagehand is looking for me
its ok
here i am….can i go on this way?
mate you can go on anyway you like now ive found ya…
sit on the sofa if you like
i sit there waiting to go on
i hear my music start up
and i stride on
i pray to the god of show biz for good luck
but i dont forget the words
but i dont forget to move and groove
you know what
i was ok
ok
thats good enough
i felt like it was you know kinda good kinda ok
i can never really tell
i felt it all flow thru and around me
im glad i didnt forget the words
or trip over
or anything weird or strangely embarrassing
i acquitted myself…did my thing
several of the others congratulate me…thats nice…
and yes
i had some conversations today
i could talk again
the bad magnets lost their pull for a while
oh i wanna get home now
too much going on
see old school friend bronny
whos now a professor up here
she enjoyed it anyway
ditto graham nunn
was the prime minister there…?
the weather was excellent
the other players n singers a marvel….
the show a huge success
i happy at last
to be a cog in a mechanism
amen

life
isnt it strange…..
i spend the day walking in the botanic gardens
then hanging round at riverstage
which is a big outdoor gig within the gardens
all day long i been plagued by a vague panic
like the universe is stepping up the ante
i sit and chat briefly to some performers
but i dont have much to say….”er…i’m jetlagged..”
of course i should be schmoozing n boozing
and getting my name around
but i’m like an energiless gormless blob
my conversations go nowhere
it begins to get cold and i brought nothing warm
i sit there freezing and tired and quite frankly bored
i wish it would be my turn soon
but i wait n wait n wait till its quite dark
i walk on
keep my eyes closed
go thru my rehearsal of images of london
mix up the words in the first verse
quite a wooden version
it doesnt matter
its just an early run through
i walk back home about 20 minutes
and turn the ac up to full heat
and struggle to stay awake
be back at nine they say
i wake up at quarter to nine
feeling like the mother of all jet lag just gave me a TKO
when the phone rings
its cath from production
you can stay there…no need to come back…
wow…a reprieve….
i go straight to bed
where the strangest n most horrible dreams
gnag n gnaw at my brain
even in rest
i get pulled over the coals
on some dreamed up distorted riverstage
my sleeping outta control confused mind has invented
where everything is wrong
where everything is chaos
and in my dream i struggle n i struggle n i struggle
i am old and invisible and hopeless and wanting
wanting something so bad
crying n weeping n sobbing in the dream
so stupid
i do not realise i am trapped between the pains of a dream
do not know i am asleep on the 31st floor in a soft bed
in some generic apartment
in amongst thousands of other generic apartments
all around the lights flash n glitter
the windows reflecting the night
while in my dream
i go to town on myself
amplifying the days tepidity
into a morbid stumble thru a catalogue of fears
the people in my dream avoid me
or gaze on me with impatient pity
while i thrash around in my own bad karma
and fry in negligence
and still i wonder even in the dream
what is causing all this?
so i decide to get up
i’m an old rocker with jet lag n bad dreams…get over it!
suddenly the glamour seems awfully thin
and i wonder what i’m doing here
here in this twenty first century…
the twenty first century since what….?
here on this computer
i take for granted
an aluminium one stop shot for all your needs
it can take your picture
it can play chess with you
its got pictures of naked ladies if you want em
its got the temperature and the time
its got endless advertisements and messages
its got all the info on everything that ever was
and yesterday
i see a hundred computers all like mine
the same exact model
all doing their gigs backstage all joined up
all lined up
hey we didnt have this when i was a kid
we didnt have this when i was thirty three n a third
am i any happier……? no!
just more stuff to take you down into its web
is that what you want?
but now we got it…it can never go away….
so in the very act of bitching about it…i’m using it…
my feet are cold again….
my future will be coldness
feeling raw and cold
thats where i’m heading
if you think this blog is too much
try to think of it as you would sartres nausea
i merely observe my self
going up n down
one minute puffed up with his own importance
the next
deflated and anxious, grasping at strawberries
this is the stuff the others cant give you
and really you might not even want it
i have made up my mind
when i am re-stabilized
to write about nothing but music
for the month of september
when i hit 55 wailing n gnashing my tooth
fripp n eno play on in the darkness
this darkest hour before the dawn
i guess yoga is my only option
tho even it fills me with no enthusiasm
some shadow has laid me low
and i just gotta wait……

ejected by sleep into a crawling bed
i find myself here in some place
a soft bed full of pillows
below chimneys emit soft steam
i roll over in cloudy blankets
sinking out of sleeps seamless sea
drowned in the air of the room
a curtain half open a blue sign throbs
i stand up and walk onto the balcony
robed completely in darkness
i see the river now deepest blue
up on the thirty first floor
the thirty first floor
sirens way below
down there where reality seems to be
me my ears will ring forever
my right eye is a blur
i apprehend the world differently
you love my thin skin
it permits everything to come in
everything coming into me
i feel everything to the nth degree
cant you see thats what ails me
cant get my mansuit off and its….
i have to ride it out but
what choice do i have?
why do you still do music?
what else could i do…..?
sometimes i write about madness
no its not the madness you have seen before
my madness is not common or guarded madness
neither is it a cheap tv copy
or a chemically induced stupor
my madness is ……..
living in the afterwoods
twenty miles north of historic eden
are the afterwoods
dreamy fields and forests of tranquilities
come one come all
oh the afterwoods
oh the eastwoods
oh the soulwoods
oh the the westwoods
available now hyper real estate
stephen kilby presents 13 achers now available
the afterwoods apartments now ready for immediate
furnished unfurnished latest unhinged solar panel
enamel
with all the trimmings approx 1 millions
that lovely spot
biographically designed by experts in university tests
featuring obelisk windows and random garage access sites
including marboleum bathroom mouthpiece set
and swim/sim pool genes already implanted
lo*vac suction system preactivated on finger touch control
happy days guaranteed by rolandstorm@ afterwoods. com
eternal craft copyright MMMXXV

the dawn begins to dawn
what else can it do?
cars drive up the streets
how miserable it is to drive a car up a dawn street
huddled waiting for the heater to come on
and all the shadows are sinister fleeting fragments
nothing surprises me
we are at the centre
and the sun rises around us
we are still
i can feel it
the world does not hurtle through space willy nilly
it makes me vertiginous to think of it
i dont want to feel big or small
only norm-all
the wee small hours indeed
when sad things happen
when people part from each other
still it remains dark
i wait for the sun to come
imagine if it was my luck
that today was the day
that the sun never comes
and at midday
brisbane is still up to its neck in the murky darkness
wont that give em a shock?
the balcony is cold to my bare feet
the noises of a hundred air conditioners plant up
the buzzing droning ringing sound of today
everything purring humming whining tapping banging
a plane flies into brisbane
defying all logic
some great tinny hulk just hanging in the thin air
all lit up
and the passengers just sipping their lasts drops of tea
the arrowroot biscuits eaten up
i alone in my tower truly awake
bam bam bam
okayda
uh huh
today
somewhere still over the rainborough
dress rehearsal for big show
big stars
big glittering occasion
alone again
naturally

down the rabbit hole
swallow me whole
he was sitting on a flight
that went up n down n side to side
will all flight attendants please take their seats
steve kilbey runs out of things to say
suddenly you extend out and life blurs
flying west n west n west n west
i cramped and cold hit home
wow
i must need my head read
glad i got my shadow or i go crazy
my wife and children

i am home i say to the littlest one
but suddenly
i am gone
my wifes welcome extends until twin dawns
white nights of light
yet still i am gone
i pack my bag i ride to a big white colosseum
the money changers
the fur dealers
the swarm buzzing about again
i sit in the flying tube
squashed between sneezing geezer
and chubby mr business doing that sudoko numbers thing
no bumps
climb out
its warm n sunny
after some argy bargy
check in to modern apt style suite
sweet?
you betcha
i tried to filmit but it was toolong

i get downstairs
share a ride with john butler
i get introduced to new guitarist jim
after a while
thru my blurry blurred life vision specs
its jim from midnight oil
yeah that sounds good i mutter or utter
the band is good
its an easy one to play
go where ever you will
i give the song my blessings
kev is there and hes so….kev
i stagger back to room
who am i ?
wow!
who did you say
i collapse in bed with jet lag
wake up feeling like i been king hit
cant believe michael jackson n gary glitter wore wigs
cant believe the senseless horror of ww1
cant believe the gospels and the gossip
cant believe in the city and its dreams
brisbane glitters outside like a fake sci fi city
from the 1970s
a big brown river pushes thru it
and the city races down to its edge
and chucks bridges over
and then the little beetley cars zoom hither n thither
and all the lights light up
and out on the streets
the old white australia days are gone
brisbane is brimming with every type of person
and i stumble thru the crowded streets jetlagged like lead
my eyes are crimson in my head
my circadian clock is frozen on 3 a.m.
manhattan and stockholm bedtimes both call me
my head cracks open
and out rolls insomnia
in a quiet room i see my new paintings
i hear voices of other musicians
i see them in the hall
the famous bunches of people
i am too tired
i keep my confused head low
i drink peach soy punch with aloe vera pearls
i eat a veggy pattie from subway
i am suddenly so tired
thats all
goodnight

sitting at arlanda airport
trying to fly to philly
then to nyc
my flight delayed by ” at least 3 hours”
means i fly into nyc at midnight if i,m lucky
i had to fly back to nyc cos that was my original point
of flying back to aust
just had a very teary goodbye with minna
who has been so kind to me during my stay
attentive concerned and wonderful company
i love her more than i can say
yes i am very very proud of her n her sister
i feel very weak sick n demoralized at the mo
and lucky you
you get to hear all about it
i mean
thats what a diary is for, isnt it?
im writing on a machine that charges 6 bucks an hour
of course they woodnae wanna have free internet at an airport
thatd be too convenient wouldnt it…
i hate airports
i hate aeroplanes
i hate travelling
i hate being on my own
so i feel pretty low right now
the pathetic silly sod is still writing nasty comments
which only goes to prove how much he loves me
sad, isnt it?
ah unrequited love…
never mind
i get back for 2 nights
then its off again to brizzy for kev carmody gig
will be great to see all my kc co horts again
but hard leaving the fambley
after such a short reunion
am looking forward to seeing miss natalie so much
i guess i got lucky
my wife is my lover and my best friend
and she makes “it” all go away for me
wish we never had to be apart again
scarlet kilbey probably thinks her dad is never coming back
and will be quite surprised to see me in the flesh
on monday morning
wow time passes slow here at the airport
trolleys go by
people embrace hello n goodbye
its a warm cloudy day in stockholm
my second home in a way in this world
and it always makes me so sad to leave
rushed here this morning
just to be told to wait wait wait wait
people say the” jet set ” about international travel
but i’m well fucking over it
coulda had lunch with martin kraaal before i left
its cold here at airport too
over air conditioned….why?
hopefully my plane leaves at 4
its ten to 2 now
time seems to have frozen
tho i know it will pass
i remember grants song at a time like this
“c’mon time
do yer magic trick
take it all away from me
make it quick”
actually so low
i feel almost lost for words
tho i have another hour of typing
left on this machine if i want it
i wonder how you all liked seeing the twillies
apart from all the nice comments already in
i guess the doodles
will probably make their blogge debut live soon
and yes
as i figger out my imovie doo dah
i hope presentations to become much much better
yes
i will be doing songs n painting video blogges
so stay tuned
the sky is the limit i guess
and you will see more n more facets
of my lovely life
as we progress along
still
something to be said for the written word
and the imagination involved
a video leaves not much to be imagined
but i feel like you might as well see me in every way
winning
losing
rocking
fambley manne
angry
happy
stupid
ranting
vegan
arty
etc etc
i contain contradictions
i am not what anybody thought
i am committed to evolving on my blogge
figgering out new ways
to entertain ya
and keep you informed
i hope we are all together for many years to come
see i’m still stuck at #19 on the charts
which aint bad
considering its the real international chart
but i wonder how i can get any higher
voice in another airport : we,re always wondrin’ that…
anyhow
fuck it
thats enough i guess
i really miss minna
we had a lovely time together in the country
and a great train ride home
talking bout stuff
listening to music etc
ok bye
i’ll let you guys know whats happening anyway
sk
arlanda airport 5 past 2
24th july
in limbo

but

three times now
i have attempted to post a video
of the twillies in action
but no dice
i probably aint compressed the doo dah enough
or centralized the ding dong
reading instructions bores me
i have a kinda attention deficit disorder
and its always been easier to figger things out for myself
i’m a hard bloke to teach anything too
and i learn slowly
well i discovered i have one day less in sweden than i thought
i leave tomorrow instead of saturday…
i feel a bit cheated
losing that day
but the thought of “catching up” with my wife
is some compensation anyway
its been quite a while
spent the day in the country yesterday
swimming in the lake
walking at night with the girls
picking hallon (wild raspberries)
n smultron( wild strawberries)
sweden is lovely
its hard to leave in summer
but i must
new york will seem hellish
compared to the tranqulity of a near empty stockholm
and the absolute zen like calm of the country
still……