The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

due to illness
ttb mgnt n staff
apologise for any inconvienence
normal service resumed asap

eel guitars swim in my mind
razor sharp notes that cut your fingers a deal
in the deep hole in my past
in that thrusting darkness of my conscience
in that bamboo shantytown collapsing
in that little something i had put away
yeah bend that string you thing
up into another key
an other register
that melody will go on forever
the sound will remain but growing smaller
infinitessimally smaller each time
like the music on the titanic
still playing over the atlantic
hovering in a sad cloud of mist
everything goes on and on
and everything else falls apart
eventually
mmmm
a word to consider
eventually
i
the lemurian
i know this word
because i have waited waited waited
so long
so so long
so long ago
so far away
when it was so easy
never cold
never old
never told either
masters of this world
you talk about music…….
our musicians could call down the rain with song
we hunted the beasts with our music
we took lands with our beautiful sounds
men were wounded by the notes in a scale
women were singers and harpists and dancers
our women danced up storms
our women could pull down a fully armoured warrior
with one flowing movement
our women were so beautiful that the stars appeared
they dressed in gossamer and vivid silk
arrowheaded priestess with divine chord
women who sing the lovely words
theyre still out there their songs
songs about the love of the earth for a sky
and ammon and isis
and venus and bel
and krsna and radha
and our gods walked among us
in deep jungle groves
the drums remorseful voice
the beat now faint
weird snatches of melodies
the songs the slaves sing
the songs of the children
about the snakeman and the fat little babies
about the monkey and the golden disc
about the ghosts of the treepeople
sometimes
yes indeed
i hear the words of these songs again
and i laugh and laugh
it all comes back to me
now
lemuria
lost in the lost world
overgrown
over run
underneath the years of neglect
everything goes on
everything else just falls apart

monday arvo
grey clouds
its turned cold again
my lovely shaped red nose is freezin’
my manicured tapered magicians fingers are freezin’
my so so feet are freezin’
my well toned butt is freezin’
(if you aint seen it, dont scoff)
i read yessadays comments about triffids
sure enough mccomb comes on shuffle
grant will be along any moment now
probly followed by church
and theres a message in there
i dont want to interpret
muse: oh lord youre a hypochondriac yeblik
yeah yeah
same as it ever was
a master and a fool i remain
strangely the next song following mccomb
was
ethereal message
by hex
im serious here
what do i make of that?
ethereal message
this is happening as i write
like tarot cards turning up intentionality
something links me to the shuffle
down down down feathers in the air
down down down everywhere sings donnette
the birth of trip hop i read someone wrote about this record
completist must have i would have thought
contains some of my nicest pieces of music
i was proud of this record
sneaking into some big studio trying to mix it
this was 1988 and i was recognizable in new york
dont let the manager see you
or he’ll know who you are
and i’ll get into trouble
says bryce the wonderful engineer
who mixed this record
you see
he was allowed to bring his friends in to do demos
but we shoulda been paying
but i couldnt really afford it
it says mixed at “gambit” studios
a gambit is a risk or small loss for hope of gain in future(chess)
the next song on my shuffle is spark
i kid thee not
what does that mean?
am i to be spared?
anyway one night real late
the manager of studios comes in
and im acting like one of bryces friends
doing a demo
and the dude doesnt even know me from adam
and we talk n he clicks the remote
and the tv comes on
mtv that is
and blow me down gently
but theres me plastered all over the screen
singing reptile
the manager looks at me
the screen
the screen
me
hes shaking his head
i get up n disappear into studio
the dude says nothing
goes home
never mentions it to bryce again….
the next song on shuffle is crystal set
but its one with philthy maher singing
walk away
love like amphetamines keepsa hittin’ her sings philthy
oh wow
how like shes grinding her teeth n needs to urinate frequently
she has blurred vision n shaky hands n no saliva in her gob
now how weird was that trio of songs
people i have 13,000 songs in my little poddle
what are the chances of them 3 coming up
next up was some krautrock
then some blue nile easter parade
oh what a weary lovesick fool the singer is
his chasing love has left him exhausted
like all romeos eventually they run out of puff
trying to keep all those plates spinning at once
one woman or a hundred
the singer always returns empty handed n world weary
each lover says to himself
i will pursue love all the way this time
i will write songs predicting how this love will last n last
but it doesnt, does it?
maybe a few months
maybe a few tours
what is it these singers are really in love with
they are in love with being in love
they are in love with love itself
love love love love love
all the dreamy crooners
all the melancholy men intoning their lack of love
love has gone
love has fled
took my baby
took my head
love does everything in songs fiendss
it lies bleeding
its a stranger in a black sedan
it looks like a window
it closes like a door
love tears people apart
love brings em together
all the mistresses n sugar daddies
all the tarts n breadheads
all sweethearts n gentlemen visitors
all the singers n their songs
love jumps over tall buildings( in a single bound!)
and it works at a tobacconists on oxford street
it delivers mail on tuesdays
and it deals speed at a bar on 7th ave
love wears lovely clothes and looks good naked
love turn ya into a lemming
love makes you stupid and intense
idiot love will spark confusion
…..but love is not loving
a man loves his mother
his sisters
his wives
his daughters
his grandaughters
a man loves his food n beer
a man loves his mates who drink beer n watch the footy with him
not this man
i dont do that
no one has ever asked me to
but from what ive seen of it
it dont appeal to me
a bunch of drunken yobs yelling at a tv set
gee…whats wrong with me
i have to spoil everything dont i?
boy
when i think of englishmen beer n soccer
i feel like a hare among a bunch of mastiffs
or a bunch of american olde boys watching gridiron
or aussie oafs glued to the rugby n their tinny
look
i can think of few things worse
finally now
right at the end of this blogge
old flame comes on the shuffle
short n sweet
the way it should be
beware
an old flame is still burning there baybee
ha!

we have dinner
we have a quiz
me asking doodles n minna trivia
who were 4 members of beatle boys? i ask
we get george paul n ringo
but they cant remember the last name
cmon ! i say
ricki? asks eve hopefully
ha ha ha! i laughed n laughed
later on i ask who was the king of such n such
aurora : was that ricki?
ha ha
king ricki the great of mu mu land
he who brought rock to his enemies
a man who can play a beard of stars
n prelude to a day laye
is a just monarch for sure im certain
its sunday night
i can write anything right?
its my day of the rest for god sake
i could easily do nothing you know
but im committed n thats why im here
at your dispersal
a cold shoulder to cry on
my deepest antipathy
anterior life on this plan it
the furthest closest door
steve b kill
ask you boss to raise your spirit
a man eating fish
blew bottle jelly tin
the rockpools are tiny whirleds
snails n little fish
purple n silver stones
wolfmother of pearljam
igneous rock
basalt like
fairy dust encrusted
heres the little starfish starfish
should i dislodge its memories for tv show?
i ask my oracle in my heart
he says have no truck with it
empty feeling in treasury says go my son
it cant do any harm
its a dilemma mama
no advice necessary
none asked for
none taken
the obvious aint always so obviously the right way
all publicity aint good publicity
some things best left unsaid about some things
just leave em as they are
let em be
let em out
but resist urge to tamper in a good job
the weary(some) hoi polloi demand explanations
where didja get the idea for that they want to ask
then they edit it all up
as they wanna get an angle
on the other hand
a loada people get “reaquainted ” with ya
but reaquainted with some past glory
not what you doing now
shame i gotta be over this barrel
but i helped put me there
so its just my difficult job to deicide now
between obscure legend intacto
or
prime (ate) time (over) exposure
the stupid things that mite get said
the stuttering blustering pontificating palaver
(translate that into spanish please)
steve b kill
picking thru the embers of the past on the telly
oh yeah
i did this n i did that
self satisfied snigger
we recorded the vocals in this very room
now a dungeon in sam n ellas brothel/niteclub
i wrote the words on this bitter paper
words i wrestled from my very soul indeed
or was it
i got stoned and made something up on the spot
is there a point between these extremes that telly can understand
here is the veryguitar i pawned in 1999
which played the lead riff on the flexi disc from the same session
here i am now
over enthusiastic olde rake
despite himself
telly casting my cut up memories
answering the kwestions like a goodebouy
it was like this and that muh ludd
let me tell you this one again
on the otherhand
what real choice do i have?
its not as easy as it probably looks
its a hard slog
its an uphill road
its a thankless gig
its a struggle
its a carryon
thats the comedown

due to the most loathesome doof doof
coming up thru the flaw
i have moved out onto my back steps
from where i can see the hubba bridge
and some tall city scrapers silohuetted against the sunset
birds call n answer in the preternaturally warm dusky evening
the trees of the eastern suburbs rub against the light
producing a hallucinatory effect
the tiny leaves and dark shapes
white flowered hedges in gentle motion
honeysuckle fills the air
and the tibetan or nepali neighbours incense
paying homage to buddha n ganesha
the earth and the sun and the rain
have produced a thousand different things
out of the same ingredients
out of themselves springs forth life and more life
bee ant moth worm flower bark sap pollen
the agents of life
life which animates matter
where does this life come from?
to me
its not looking like an accident
not tonight
with the privelege of my little balcony
the pot plants with white stones
the almost soothing sound of distant traffic
between the people and the sea
everyday i bathe in the oceans briny coldness
the air caresses my skin
no thats not just a cliche…it really does
soft runs along my aching calves n tired wrists
occaisionally a dogs deep bark carries on the wind
different bird noises fade in n out like williams radiotronics
the air over the city goes orange
then pale yellow
then deep shades of blue falling down
the air over the ocean is a delicate lavender
a plane flies overhead a long way up
its getting dark now
a weird light is cast upon the lapptopp
the houses in the street change colour
the shadows sharpen
people go off to parties
drink alcohol
take drugs
cocaine hags gobble ecstatic oafs
pissed young bucks giving it all away
in the kitchens the oddballs losers n virgins accumulate
in the gardens the footy hero talks cars with his mates
in the swimming pool
under the blue water
some young fool is full of vodka n holding his breath
cars pull up in the driveway
dealers with little coloured envelopes
which makes em feel cold
little doses of euphoria n depression
white powders seducing your resistance
people in the bathroom screaming n carrying on
bleeding laughing living dreaming
a pizza gets delivered and knocked over in the carpet
your girlfriends little brother passes out
in the arms of a tranny
and the police have just pulled up over the street
some guys have gatecrashed
“wheres the women n drugs ?” they demand
of your parents who came back home early
the lights are on the blink
and that stupid prick billy franklin
has chucked dayglo gloop everywhere
people are vomiting
trying to get in n out
drunk stoned and raging wildly
charged up like a plutonium amex
not me boy though
ha ha
no
im sitting back in my little room
surrounded by my guitars n pastels
by my paper n my paintbrushes
a tube of manuka honey face cream
a statue of the patron saint of lost things
blu tack and a pencil
beyond this room the doodles argue
the baby coos
nk with her pod on earphones cooks din dins blissfully unaware
minna arrives for dinner
tonight im on telly in triffids special
i look a bit too excited for my own goode i reckon
a bit too self satisfied…..
a family night at home tonight
surrounded by females
deep in the bosom of the family
then
render me calm n serene

beautiful fiends
its friday
the end of the week
im reading a book called giants of the frost
by an australian author(ess) kim wilkins
theres a picture of her inside and shes very pretty
im not exactly wolfing the book down
as i did that tolkien book
its got the norse gods in it which is a plus
but its all hinged on a bit of a drippy (so far) love story
by the whey
i did get to see all of the illusionist
and i thought it was better than the prestige
(by a mile)
but still i ached for the lost opportunities
to go all the way
forget the dopey bint who played the heroine
keep the love interest carryon a minor thing
we want magic
we want darkness
we want inexplicable unexplainable mystery
we wanna be carried away
we want from our fiction n film
what we cannot have from real life
thats my job, too
i write songs that come from somewhere else
somewhere over the rainbow
somewhere where things blur and the mundane is cancelled out
i am working on combinations of words and melodies
i am working on clusters of notes arranged pointilistically
like blips on a graph measuring your deep heart
i am working on memories we never had
dreams we should have, but never did dream
my voice continues to mellow and improve
my fingers find their way unaided
they glide over pianos n tambourines
the guitar gives up new things to me
everything falls in its place
like tiger woods sinking a putt
polinski is even as we speak preparing to mix painkiller
its a sprawling esoteric masterpiece
its got concise lil rock songs
its got long meandering things
its got radiotronics and feedback
crashing walloping exciting drumming
its my usual narcissistic genius/idiot lyrics
oh god people
how the words keep flying into my head
rhymes n phrase n allusions and metres
you understand when you hear it
how easy it was to make
and all the love
my love
tims love
william master of spaces love
polinski the iconoclast will express his love
in reverbs and rich valves and bringing out the grain
the record is the solo record i had to make
remindlessness is also a sprawling work of love n music
but limited by its recording in my spare bedroom
the mechanical-ness of a lot of it
i didnt want that….its just what happened
narcosis plus more is another lovely record too
dark brooding sad electronic whirlpool
those are my 2 best so far
but this new one is a real “proper” record
coming along at a parallel rate is the k/k record
a nother cup of fish all together now
simple songs
poignant music
just so right…..
just so set up to be sung over
jlk gives me a song we worked on a cuppla weeks back
lovely work to all concerned
the 2 records will polarise you
one wild ride in n out of the chakras
one lovely garden of verse
you gonna love em both
you gonna need em both
like you need both eve and aurora
like you need day n night
like you need sex n sleep
like you need up n down

went round n visited my oirish friends j n m
who are renting a lovely little villa in coogee
a few beaches down from bondi
while e and a and m played
framed against the mauve sunset and the calm pacific ocean
we talked of mice n men
j snapped a pic of aurora
her father standing behind her
his hands on her shoulders
both of them against the warm australian black night
my hands symbolically protecting my beloved daughter
and my eyes narrowed in the way fathers eyes do narrow
grant comes on my pod (again!!!)
strangely enough immediately after shuffle played
“in this room”
which is one its never thrown up before
(the church: music your shuffle can throw up)
grant youre not telling me my numbers up are ya?
(the track was “the clock”)
anyway i just spoke to polinski
and he likes what hes heard so far
so thats a good sign
he really is one of the best
at getting what i want
and im sure he’ll come thru
years of live blasting music have rendered my ears useless
for mixing at any rate
and it never was my best kinda thing
leave it to the specialists i say
my speciality is creating this intrigue outta thin air
the world will of course largely ignore it
a few thousand will get it
maybe not even buy it
maybe just get it outta some friends senuti ipod
but itll be out there now forever
and itll go on turning em on as long as they wanna listen
it will mean something to you
to whoever wants to invest an hour
penetrating its mystery
have we got an hour for that these days?
yeah
youll squeeze it in somehow
its gonna go on giving to ya
my selfcentred macrocosmic narcissistic everyman schtick!
my cartoon epic new age old age fabulous mess
bang!
just like that!

sk n.bondi aug. 2007

sadness and sorrow hound me
that is the way of mortal men doomed to die
all i need is acceptance of this
i need to accept that is how it is
i was living next door to a building site
it was a noisy hell plus all the tradesmen had radios blasting
there were machines and trucks delivering and people shouting
there were hammers hammerin’
there were drills drillin’
there were builders buildin’
there were demolishers tearin’ it all down
i went to a spiritual advisor
and i said
man
i wanna love god
i wanna do my yoga
i wanna be serene and calm
but the noise is poisoning me
he said
steve, accept it….
oh that made me angry i can tell you
i went home
ha!
accept it!
i get home
its all going on in spades
the awful racket of the 21st century
attacking my damaged ears
and my frazzled nerves
like a thousand tiny darts
stabbing me in places i didnt know anything could reach
shrieking wailing clashing din of metals n stone
and then a small rebellious part of me said
hey
lets try the gurus advice…
the rest of me goes
ok
lets accept it
now acceptance is not easy
acceptance is one of those things that looks easy
but like a load of other qualities and deeds
its beyond your mere willpower
you think i dont have a bit of willpower?
its no good saying to your self
i must accept
because in commanding it
demanding it of your self
you are negating it
the acceptance must come
you must surrender to the acceptance
you have to lay down your “beef” with the thing you cant accept
its no good saying
ok i accept this racket
but i will go on vividly actively hating it
there can be no buts
you hope that acceptance will come
i was lucky
i was able to eventually manifest some decent acceptance
the disgusting racket went on n on for months
it would have killed me otherwise
but i accepted it
i did not (uselessly) resist it
i gave in
after all there was nothing i could do
i could hate it all i liked
but it wouldnt stop it
i could bore everyone i knew
with descriptions of how awful it was
(and it was!)(and i did!)
but it didnt go away
then one day
there i am
in my kitchen
which used to overlook a pair of rambling cottages
with vege gardens and birdies singing n flowers
you know
all those stupid things your hero loves
now it was a pit of mud and trusses and
blokes having arguments in foreign languages
and triple mmm playing acka dacka n doof doof doof
gurlie schmaltz n macho small-penised angst
eg nickelbach
you know
all the wonderful things your hero hates
and i could hardly hear the conversation
i was having on the phone
probably with tim powles who sometimes loves a chat
and guess what?
i realise im not angry
i realise im not fuming furious
im just accepting it
it took a little while
but (its all so simple, isnt it?)
i was accepting it
oh what a relief
of course i endured another 7 months of noise
before the orrible blocka flats was finished
and then guess what
6 weeks after that
i had to move out
cos the owners wanted to move back in…
we moved to another place
and then there was a dodgy panel beaters
going day and fucking night
all kinds of loud awful noises
and the perpetual radio belting out the slop
then i had to try n accept that all over again
now i live in a relatively quiet spot
but things just keep happening
exactly as they happen to everyone else
people keep upsetting my fragile balance
what i think is fair
intruding on my hard won semi-serenity
ive had my battles
ive argued
ive deceived
ive struck
and been struck
ive carried on like a right ratbag
and i was squashed deep into the carpet
and its taken a long time to claw back some “normality”
now i must accept that all this
my age
my occupation
my trying hard
my new leaf which is still turned over
etc
means nothing to people
who just being people
disturb the calm waters of my life
with continual trouble
that i never needed to have
i say why lord why?
but i really know the answer
the saint who is no saint
must bend further n further in the wind
the wind of outrageous fortune
just as i am coaxing my body to become more n more supple
(despite the years which are trying to achieve the opposite)
i must coax my mind and spirit
accept all this
accept the doubts n doubters
accept the accusations and animosity
but i strike out
over n over n over
and in striking out
i create new turmoil
and the ripples race out into the confusion that is humanity
now i aint talking about comments here
or only in a tiny way
i am ready to live transparently
im honest
im trying to be understanding
im trying to be reasonable
trying to suffer the slings n arrows
envy is a killer
i see such n such is doing the blah blah
and i get envy in the pit of my guts that burns me
this morning a few offhand remarks n my rejoinders
raised my fiery anger to such a heat
that it consumed me
i had to crawl back into bed
i had exhausted myself
i cannot accept that people are people
people say stupid things
i know i do
i write stupid things too
but i need to accept
life is not perfect here
we gotta be thick skinned and soft hearted
you gotta be able to accept the bouquets n brickbats
insults and flattery should not swerve me
this is earth
this aint heaven
bad mad sad things are bound to happen
all the time
any peaceful still time you can get is a miracle
a bonus
an extra
dont expect a smooth run
people will always impinge and infringe
they will disturb and perturb
theyll call ya a liar when youre telling the truth
and thats hard to swallow
but i must not become so angry
it is destroying me
i cant afford to lose so much energy
in one inferno of wrath such as today
i write this blog today
to externalise these thoughts
to actually put them into words
to give my willingness to accept more ooomph
i feel im being tested and im gonna pass the test
i will never get anywhere
if mere stupid words make me lose control
you,
dear reader
can make of this what you will
if anything in here appeals to you
use it by all means
this has been my experience
ps
this is not aimed at any commenters
believe me

unless you really believe
rudy neuman(n):
pulling the strings all these years
a conspiracy of corrupt bankers
giving us the wars we had to have
those blueblood honchos dictating from their ivory ivied towers
fixing the race
calling the shots
hanging in the back
pushing you into the fray
afraid themselves
afraid of themselves and us
their high and lonely destiny it was
to meddle in the affairs of the riff raff
and to keep us happily enslaved
to their fucked up paradigm
they invent and dole out diseases and cures
they dream up reasons for us to fight
theyre not fighting
they never did
why should they?
they gave us our pasture
we graze happily
they feed us and harvest as they need to
yes you know the bunch im talking about
people in high places
they gave us television
and then they filled it with brainwashing soap operas
they let you drink drink drink
but suppress the smoking of the herb
why is that?
because the herb lets you see the hilarity of the whole she-bang
then you become what they call “amotivational”
which means you aint buying in to their bullshit quite so easily
yes
nothing like the herb to tilt your perspective
until you understand the great fake society
and the joke it is all based on
history will judge us hilarious
the herb can see it right now
next they take away the lsd and mushrooms etc
these also interfere with programming of the sheep
in the 60s citizens of the u.s. were virtually deemed unamerican
and had long jail sentences for using these substances
because why?
theyre bad for us?
they are so bad that its better to go to jail than to take them?
a “free” society
taking lsd was tantamount to some kinda spiritual treachery
just like not supporting the tragic vietnamese war
like you werent on your own side
classic propaganda!
but what was at the heart of this fear of the hallucinogenics
a realization that every now and then
the people taking them
would stumble upon rare and beautiful thoughts
and suddenly
not only was this whole thing hilarious
but it was transparent and glowing
it was filled with this stuff called love
love was life
and life was in love with love and life
and it brought motion from the stillness
and it brought sound into the silence
and it permeated matter
and it was invisible and almost not there
unable to be measured
it defied itself
and everything sprang into being
and then everything else
and you sit by the shores of a gentle lake
and the ripples flow towards you
and you feel the even handed ness of the water
its simple geometric grace
its flowing uncurling elegance
the sun runs along each round rim of the wavelets
the sand flashes gold glints as it dances beneath the surface
the ripples
the sand
the water
the sky
its all moving to this same doo-dah
i dont know what to call it
rhythm i suppose
but there was no real sound
except the soft percussive lapping of the lake
and the reeds are bouncing to the rhythm too
you can see that now
the reeds and the birds
theyre all locked into this thing
how was it you never noticed before?
you start to smile
why are you smiling?
why are you grinning from ‘ere to ‘ear?
because you realise
what do you realise?
it cant be put in one sentence
its a million books look
and to take it one line at a time
will diminish its splendour
but think
unified field
whatever that means to you in your heart
who cares what your brain will say now
unified field
the ripples
the sand in motion
suspended as if by magic
the golden flashes of tiny microns
the dreamy aqua colour of the water itself
the reeds are swaying in time
their heads bob and imply sentience
god
its all sentient
the herons hang in the sky
their wings beat like bass drums
boom boom boom in the liquid air
the great birds
animated by life herself
these perfect flying creatures with free will
cruising the skyways as man and wife
diving like darts into the lake
their feathers marvellously engineered to keep out water
as well as to facilitate their movement thru thin air
the herons are miracles of loving design
and they are supposed to be flying exactly there
right now
and you truly understand
the life/love that has orchestrated this little scene
for your benefit
and anyone else too
who had but eyes to listen
and ears to see
no thats no mistake
because you realise the sounds have colours
and the colours are all making sounds
this folds in on itself so delightfully
that you take a whole second
to become lost in its myriad mazes
and you smile
because you understand
and also because you see
youre included in this equation
youre a cog in the mechanism
you put your finger in the lake
and your ripples rush out to join the incoming ones
and you see youre sposed to be here
youre sposed to part of this
theres a deep reason meaning
and everythings ok
its all in balance
the natural world in tune
satori must be something like this

the hierophant n mem are standing in a bar
you mean to tell me that its my intentions turning them cards up?
says the hierophant
mem smiles enigmatically
or perhaps its the opposite
he says
the hierophant
look lets call him the killer for short
the hierophant is all duded up in some crazy medieval get up
karl jung intervenes
intentionality
he says in his accent
oh i dont know the exact english word…
magic !
booms a deep dry voice
crowley knocks back a cognac and waves
mem eats a lightly sea salted crisp
magic…intentionality….art……will … he says abstractedly
the killer points to the upturned cards
the fool, the hero, the hanged man
past present future
the triple world
the past swallowing the future
but the more it swallows
the more future remains
the present is the fragile border
between these 2 untouchable states
remembering or imagining
is how we touch the past/future state
to be a real life hero
and fight injustice without being self righteous
to help and help without need for constant gratitude
to merely think a thing and behold! it is
crowley was reading my thoughts
yoga or magic he said
there are only 2 paths to what you desire to attain…
jung nodded thoughtfully
the killer has been practicing yoga hard now for a while he said
i wonder if he has really changed…
crowley said
hes been doing the poses
most of the other practice he neglects…
mem smiled and took a sip of his jaeger n red bull
it had become his trademark drink since that painting of his
had been sold for millions n millions
now his jaeger n redbull painting
hung in the louvre next to van go
crowley was boldly chatting up the barmaid
jung stared at me patiently like i was a lab rat
i must say herr killbee
its lovely to guest star in your blogge like this
i think it reveals something of yourself
yeah ? said k
narcissism
delusions of grandeur
a rampant ego
a sick id
a neurotic inner child
unrealistic expectations of power
an incredible capacity for self aggradizement
said jung dispassionately
other than that?….i said
other than that youre a bit of a prick said crowley
rudely looking up for an instant
i thought this was your blogge…. said mem
youre right i thought
i can do anything here
quickly tiring of jung n crowley
i whisk them offstage n outta the bar
i turn sadly to mem
its ok said mem
im not really here either….am i?
in a moment i had swept the decks clear
no one remained but the woman behind the bar
drink up sir she said
its closing time
i staggered out into the streets
snowy bostonion streets
or hot sydney pavements
i cant tell
its either very warm
or very cold
you see i was right
all opposites eventually reconcile in each other
manipulation of these reconciliations is magic
the pull between opposites
man and woman
+ and –
life and death as well
extreme cold can feel like hot
yes yes
and then everything was peeled back
and i penetrated with my vision
to the real core of everything
and saw everything as it really was
for a second
everything was connected
yes
it was ridiculous to think that….
but the thought wilted
as the second passed
and i was left with a shadow of the truth
which i chased drunkenly thru the streets of my mind
i stood in the severe poses of yoga
and my bones n sinews n joints n muscles moved apart
and in the new tiny gaps was knowledge
untransmissable knowledge
calm quiet knowledge
as it should be
nothing to get hung about
damn!
my mood crashed
i saw that tarot card i had turned
the hanged man
my future
no no no no
i turned my collar to the cold n damp
it had begun to rain in bondi
i felt hungry n suddenly lonely
itd still be quite a walk home

you are unreachable
time and time again
mornings come and go
childhoods drift into age
the years yawn and are gone
one day this
next day that
if you only had perspective
if you could see the shadows the littlest things cast
i dont want to turn into this thing im becoming
but its in the stars
the celestial bodies pulling us here n there
the gravity of our times
the sheer weighed up bags of moments
the dazzling sunlight
the foggiest night
already bewildered suffering these attacks
you return again n again
here is a haven for travellers i have heard
where weary wayfarers find rest
there is a way into its centre
there is room there
living room
mirrors talking back
paintings follow you round
the statuettes gyre n gimble
the masks grinning from ear to here
i didnt want to end up here either
in the sun on my deck chair
feeding the birdies
and whistling for my supper
they switched off the clocks
they turned the calendars upside down
and now night comes before day
and day comes before night
its peaceful i must say
at least
im crazy but im calm
im jealous n bitter as all hell
but somehow these waving fields soothe me and
somehow the margins have contained me
somehow the things i need elude me
one day you wake up….
or one night you go to sleep…
and after that
when it all goes……
wrong is such a strong word…..
when it all goes differently to what youd thought
what youd banked on happening
when you get a 3 instead of a king
or you end up in the lane going the other way
sailing past your home doing a hundred
or you realise youre watching the wrong film
hey ! this aint what i thought it was
i want my time and my money back
i wanna retrial n a misprint
i wanna easy sentence handed down
i wanna minimum security universe
and i want weekend conjugal visits and
i want to escape almost before im in
and then i regret even before i have begin
and then i feel finished
finished
null n voided
over n out
and as it all grinds to a halt
one little spark
starts to glow
and you think
oh no
i thought it was all extinguished
but no
little spark fanned by your very breath
and hope against hope
but failure
inertia
silence
darkness
beckon