The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

sprook no moor

The immaculate black night is out of light

I had passed out sometime back

The chanting head voices had gone east somewhere

The limitless byzantine of my other world

I was anybody as I lay there in the dark

A breeze stirs from somewhere

Its breath disturbs the fragility of my connectedness

A breeze that whispers stuff about a country that aint out there anywhere

Little bells outside a childrens church

I hear a choir singing some faraway song as if through an astral line

On a Sunday morning not yet come they will unfurl penance

Drowsy little town at the foot of a mountain

Even as my world infects you and crumble

Silent chatter of cactus

The slow nodding of the fir

The gentle groan of the man on the ash

Echoes of squabbling gulls

The waves have ceased their crashing

The sea itself is quiet and listening

Listening to the music deep inside itself

Huge whales and sharks under the waves

Gentle lapping of dogs

The crack and creak of Hesperus in a dim mist

Laocoon calls out to his sons too late in the day

The universities are full of such monsters in these times

The finality is much more than many of us can stand

It doesn’t matter

Eventually all pain will subside it will reside outside nowhere

The truth will keep becoming strange and changing

Sleep escapes me although I pretend to dream

A pretender to a crown of wrought slumber

I take a number and wait

la smith (for no particular reason)

In the avenue of the armistice

war has damaged the graves of the peacemakers

Me and some fading actress lying drunken underneath the plane trees

Our fingers are dripping lemon and salt in the sea air

Above us mackerel cloud and salmon sunset

Below us white river upon black swan

Sentry upon century

Mausoleums loom up suddenly emptying us of our mirth and our fucking chuckle

We stumble all the stagger way home clutching our bottle of nepenthe like it was an oracle or a lamb

On the darkening streets the new night is warm and stormy

A certain recklessness has filled the quickened city

More than ever the moon filled sky presses up to windows to gaze in

We meet our friends the acrobat Lucid and Mallet the carpenter in a park

Torches fire across the harbour and the reflections of smoke swim on the sea

Some strange drug has numbed my tongue and I hum dumbly

Some distant star has crossed my path I can feel it rather halved

The revelers dressed as ghosts called out for more music and thus it begins

The big drum pounding in my veined interior mirror

We glide over fogged time pieces lay forever shattered

At the Splendid Bull with the decantered wonderful wine of Wednesday now gone

And the faded flotsam and jaded jetsam cast away out of the Emperors sight

A time of long sleeps and small dreams

more spruik-free poesy

The meridian is skewed the crew are all malaria and stewed

The longitudes have changed we have been exchanged seas

The coastline of castles cragged above the feather nested beds of head

The dreaming squires under skies of cadmium blue

Oh how I flew to be with you honey boo

Inside the dome sealed cavernous yawn of chasm cracked and horned

Where the twinkle bells of fells and dells haunted by our older selves

The caves and mossy lime twigged dawn

Sometime later a satyr who is just a childish faun

Under a wavering sun our doom already begun we were softly spun

Visiting lands with no day and then sleep but no night

Some spiteful imp empties sympathy delightfully

In a harbour called Grudge some drudge in a kitchen is already bitching about the sludge

In elemental principles the crucible of life is forced to include its own source

Among the caskets and hatchets of the market basks the young archer

Saracen scimitar of Persian silver with its vibrating runic pulse in his tunic holster

The Punic wars adores such a man !

no spruiky onlee poem

I know more than I should of her foreign waves

In swirling streams of green colour

Riding her dolphinfish like a little courtesan

Bobbing on the eddies the cream foam of aphrodites birth

When beautiful winds blow in from exotic climes and times

Bringing promises of divine spine of speed the seed of universes

The verses of gods own song are preached in a moment of truce

All those cats from Troy with their pretty boy Paris now plastered in an inn

The greeks move in man and they seek the sweetest revenge

hell bent on leather and plumed to the nines

those lusty Aegean sons riding over Poseidons turquoise ripple

those currents flow from some strange spring  my main fellow

hello do you hear?

Inside the plutocrat frame  they already have your image and a name

When his Malevolence arrives your bluster will be just dust in the desert of some African tribe.

When the Norns cut your chord short on a battlefield bought with song

Everything your lyre told you was wrong

Well thronged with vassals in the port of Joppa see me jostled by the lord

Some thug took a swing the drug hooked something slugged me out of the ring

I blame the evil snake

who in golden boughed apple tree did seduce the all- mother

as she reached for that ruby fruit a pain did shoot across the sky

and wolves began to howl in some sudden icy hell

and moons fell in hidden fields of the sea where plankton glimmer lifelessly

and razortooth viper shark awaits the shards of comet

and the souls of sailors who drowned in wines marshes

But that wily feathered pretty serpent with his bangles of amethyst

Talking in an accent half Yorkshire half worm

Guile and subterfuge laid on like honey

The vile old dragon choking on gold

The same old devils cool off in this ocean

And their steam forms little clouds that rain on in the distance

And the droplets float in the air transparently opaque

The drake of hearts flowers in its wake

But in the depths the krakens heart will break

no spruik only poem

In the cherry mists of spring we came upon Illyria’s vast inland lake

I remember swimming through my lives the aqua forte in bluest contrasts

Blonde haired dark skinned village girls who took part in the ceremonies

Youths gathering like clouds on the edges of some undeniable fortune

The drummed down dragons slunk away to wait for summer

My carbon height slips like diamond flash in shallows in shoals

No exposure will reveal to you the mysteries my eyes have seen through

No caster of pebbles or malchick queen of the curling doll

The Zoroaster in columns on her lovely pavilions

In far flung eastern virtual palaces

Intrigue has a scent like vanishing vanilla against pure steel

Imagine the afternoons we could have had there, you and I

Oh the undulating waves of opium and haze extend out and further than now

The implications of our dreams still exist some where

Like the mighty oak imprisoned in a lowly acorn

Deep in the earth so our seed may still yet grow

In secretive signs do the earths not converse with the skies?

For the starwatchers little hole wherein he perchance can trap heaven

The squirming stars breathless in the magickal tube

As they writhe in ether

The bound planets who can never roll off into darkness

The gorgeous shy moon waxed crescent blush pink

The dirge of the birds whom the crow has  just robbed

The sad sob of the traffic through the gate

and the throb of tomorrow too late.

healthy wealthy and wise
oh well one outta 3 aint bad

this blog is for david rundle

who is not only my accountant but a good good friend

and also a church/kilbey expert

david was concerned he’d heard and read and seen too much “druggy”stuff

about me lately

and was hoping that i have maintained my fitness regime.

well yes i have.

i swim somewhere between a 500 metres and a kilometre every day

i still do yoga almost every day, in fact i’m gonna do it as soon as i finish this.

and i walk a real lot. and i never sit around munching on food or guzzling booze.

i dont smoke cigs but i smoke weed

it kinda keeps me rolling along

its not for everybody but nor is riding a unicycle.

my way isnt everybodys way

kids dont smoke dope before yer 18 and dont smoke dope if youre already crazy!

dont smoke dope if youre already paranoid or delusional

do smoke dope if youre an artist or musician and you’d like some help

ive written 780 registered songs and all of em involved dope

big deal. i am neither proud of that nor ashamed

if you think thats too naughty for you go read some other mothers blog

thats the facts

i’m coming up 60 and i’m still churning the stuff out

i’m still fucking rocking baby and rolling a bit too

i think faster than when i did when i was young

my mind and body and spirit are in some sort of harmony although not perfect

the swimming in that seawater pool or down at a netted harbour beach

its like dunking myself in a bath of negative ions

i rise up each morning refreshed

the sea i have to have it

i cannot will not live away from or without the sea

everything comes from the sea

it is my saviour my solution my salve

yoga baby yoga oh god what are you all waiting for?

you gotta do yoga its gonna help you in everything you do my little fiends

wanna play better guitar: yoga

wanna be a better sportsman: yoga

wanna be a better person: yoga

it just works trust me i have no axe to grind

you just gotta do it

and thats that spring in my step

that bounce in the ankles

the flexibility of my knees

the source of my energy

the way i now open up and let the music flow thru me

instead of trying to trap it: yoga

the reason i am still a contender and why the next church album will be our best: yoga

whatever: yoga

and then my almost-vegan diet

yeah i slip up and not a pure vegan

i dont fucking care of what anybody thinks of what i eat

ive been arguing with people for 45 years over it

its boring…can you do what i do?

Can you run around onstage carrying a heavy plank of wood for 3 hours?

i am fit and healthy and strong. dont worry about me

moving closer all the time to my masterpiece whatever it will be

i got wrinkles and stuff

but in all other ways i dont feel any different to when i was 18

‘cept i’m more flexible and not as lazy

therefore i presume i am doing something right

and i presume smokin’ dope cant be that bad for ya tho i dont recommend it per se

but it sure worked out well for me and sir paul ? right?

my spirit runs this whole show

like a driver it drives my body via my mind

these three things must be brought into balance

although a surplus of soul will never go astray

listen to your spirit

listen to your body

dont listen so much to your mind

exercise

think

and pray

be in all three worlds

you are angel man beast

cater to all three

dont neglect the needs of your component parts

meat will fuck you right up

its the truth n becoming truer every single day as more people see the light

if you eat meat youre giving yourself a severe disadvantage despite all the exercise

if you drink loads of booze or smoke loads of cigs

then youre ruining yourself quicker than ya think

i am the proof in my pudding

i am nearly sixty and age aint slowed me down one little bit

this is how i am doing it

you could follow my example because it obviously works

i am kicking ass and trying to unlock the inner mysteries of what i do

thats me

i got my problems too

i aint perfect yeah you know

i make mistakes and i do wrong things

i am angry and anxious and all the rest

a bit of a flake

but for sixty almost

i dont feel too fucking bad

in fact,

i feel pretty fucking good

do whatever y’all like

but what i do has sure worked out well for me

so far…..

grant n me in NYC 1991

as i work my way thru the making of this video

i wonder what you will make of it all

just like i wonder what i make of everything on a daily basis

grant n I met up we instantly hit it off like a house on fire

we hung out a real real lot

taking drugs and playing guitar

grant always with a cig and a glass of wine on hand

on hot disconsolate nights we wandered thru the wilderness of

a 3 story huge old house where my studio was

a house full of junky doctors and dealers and even a dominatrix

a house full of musicians and engineers and singers and other idiots

them long hot darlinghurst nights (well surry hills but very close!)

91 albion street go see it its still there

the house that stephen cummings wrote about twice

the den of iniquity that shocked poor old mae moore

the house where we did half of margots 1st record

grant and i guitars strapped on

strumming and bitching and laughing and drinking

we go outside where we sit on the steps

i accost passers-by demanding that they recognise grant

who sits there half embarrassed and giggling at my antics

he puffs his cig in that side-woods way

and always has the best fucking quip

we went to the states together

arista wanted a little promo tour

our record had lots of instruments but we are reduced to an acoustic duo

surprisingly our voices and guitars meld almost seamlessly we become each other

grant and i loved goading each other on you can see that all here

we were under the others influence a bit

we are funny tho

some of it makes me laugh still

grants know it all smirk is worth twenny bucks alone

i left it real

i could have cleaned it up a bit

but i wanted you to see the frosties in situ unaltered or censored

theres a spiteful dark side to us

now i wonder why that it was that way?

why were we so restless and blabbing on all the time?

what wasnt there to enjoy ?

we were playing some gigs and doing some interviews

and staying in the best hotels around

theres plenty of admirers in all shapes n sizes

and we had a little bit of money too …at least i did then

but theres an anxiety a sadness at the heart of some of it

i love watching grant

i love his wandering eye that makes him look like jesus on the cross

although not handsome as such there is a strange compulsion attached to him

he was as if from some other time and place

me….fuck …i dunno…i look good but i’m a different guy now

i been thru a lot since then

so this

apart from 2 albums is all there is

this was all that i could squeeze onto the download and it was quite a job

(some raw footage remains of the frosties in australia..it may see light of day eventually)

so if you wondered how it felt to be in Jack frost in 1991 this’ll set you straight

i am still too close to it

still under grants spell when i watch him at work on this film

if you like you can

download it here

please use my comments section to leave reviews of video too

if you want

ladies and gentlemen

jack frost in america is now ready

https://sellfy.com/p/VWXe/

frost report

finally getting around to it

the video of jack frosts tiny USA tour in 1991

here we are playing and quipping

quipping and playing

lots of mucking about

strumming and picking guitars

we take on the press the record company the audience and each other

grant is by turns sardonic sarcastic sentimental

his smile is so heartbreakingly lovely

we were doing a promo tour of the USA

a few live gigs a few radio shows

some of the stuff has been lost down the tubes forever

this then is the creme of what remained

we only knew about 10 songs

you’ll hear a few of the same songs a few times in different circumstances

i left almost all the live footage intact.

the film over all is no where near as jumpy as “buzzes and fades”

the sound quality is ok

i have not tampered with anything

this is a live home bootleg

theres lots of talk about drugs and sniggering at ourselves

its kinda sad to see it 23 years on now but its instructional

i was on the verge of a huge heroin habit about to consume my life

at this stage i was dabbling but grant had been dabbling for ages

we keep mentioning drugs with a truly monotonous regularity

although little comes our way beyond the odd joint

we seem quite besotted by each other too and our perceived “clevernesses”

we are existing in our own little bubble

and when we get back to sydney eventually that bubble will burst

here i am looking so stylish and confident and cool

on the eve of my descent into heroin mess i was definitely stylish

grant was so fucking funny

and so condescending to some of the “idiots” we encounter

grant and i thought we were the bees knees in being the hippest guys alive

and we had teamed up

i was about to have twins E and M

and grant had split up with his girlfriend whom he adored

we turned up in LA and we watched the then brand new Doors movie with val kilmer

afterwards grant just wanted to do something so bad…!

people underestimate the rock n roll side of grant

it co existed there with all the thomas hardy stuff believe me

its sad and strange watching this

he was the best friend i ever had until drugs tore us apart

grant never descended into full on addiction and he went back to brisbane

and he stopped or de escalated to the occasional dabble again

but he and i fell out permanently when i didnt stay at his place in brisbane one time

instead i had elected to stay at a drug dealing friends place

i had made my choice

and grant and i only saw each other one more time before his death

i wish i had spent more time with him when he was still here

blah blah blah

luckily this film remains to remember those days

anyway its done now except for some boring tweaks here and there

a postcard from bygone times

available soon i expect

another yellow period

the famous face of her fabulous frame

the games are announced in the marvellous spring

now its summer outside my tiny windows

summer eve can you believe such a thing?

the ointment of night is spread cross the sea

some joint still broadcasting from the 1950

some heartbreaking song broken on the wind

lonesome old music adrift in the night

in the night of great wonders approacheth the shops

the salty air corroding the chrome of the rich

i ditch my clothes on a heap on the floor

from out of the black i am coaxing a face

the night is a painting with its white and  its pink

the bats swoop low over roofs of the trippers

the wandering clouds are battered in heaven

i work as the ghosts play all their tricks on me

the lights go on and off things fall to the ground

i am not impressed by the whisperings near my head

the ocean however has purified the air

mosquitos still feed off me freely but they fly away fucked

my blood congeals in their bellies like darkening treacle

my heart beat is very very slow years pass between its subtle pulses

the summer night is full of girls who fall out of the bars

the babble of the drunken patrons is intensified by tonight

the looming holiday has elevated them with false bonhomie

their sunburnt faces utter a million meaningless words

outside on the street i am gone

dont look for me

i am in a tower of trees where a sometime pleasant breeze blows

i am sitting here banging it all out i never stop

i am charged with energy i have sucked from the great white stars

i am lucid on the dream run home where i score again again in zone

the mackerels in shoals flash from the green moonlit rocks

in an ice cream shop i add caramel to raspberry blocks

the night in eden down by the docks

summer but shorter and shortening day

unheard of sound begins to play