The Time Being | Steve Kilbey

rampion redux

from rampions notes

i get closer and closer all the time

the zenith algorithm

the gossamer cord that holds us here

the reason for right

the reason for wrong

i have discovered new combinations

i have stumbled upon a new pattern

during improvisation

during meditation

during composition

during love with excelon

during contemplation of ordinary things

observation of condensation

clouds which move like spirits through the skies

the intangible etheric caress of new music

music rushing into the voids of my head

music waiting patiently to be written

the exaltation of a thousand rhapsodies

the clash of huge orchestras crashing into agonising dissonance

whirlpools of reeds and strings

harp mirages in shattered shards

the ever insistent chatter of the percussion

turning to a rawer flavour

and every sound brings forth images

images of light

images of saints

images of nymphs in their nakedness

and then i see right through it all

through the flood of information

through the symbols through the masks

through the maya which distorts and mocks

through the obfuscation of matter and mind

through time through distance through memory

and there behind everything

a delicious empty place

there is nothing then suddenly there is everything

from where are these things springing….i wonder…?

so i stand back in my mind

small and tiny and hidden

the music continues to materialise

the visions continue appear

oh memories but not mine

all possible music all possible worlds

the horizon of perfection a black line of silence

then rise blazing stars stabbing glorious melody

chaos into arithmetic into energy into purest love

i reach for my piano

my fingers so white against the black notes

the room so still though humming with potential

a dome in my brain is reverberating a drone

tuning into that steadfast note

locking on to the power of that sound

then my fingers with even the barest impulse

glide across the keys i gently coax the beginning

the beginning of what…i wonder as i watch myself …?

i stop and i prepare a cup of nepenthe

i take a deep draught

and i my fingers moved in strange combinations

and in strange times

as my fingers played variations on the theme of the beginning

my head was clouded in other sound

like marbled veins of music shot through with crimson or blue

the struggle for life and more sweetness

trumpets blew down walls

lyres summoned angels

lutes invoked lush green gardens where were courtly maids

drums unleashed inferno and fleshpots

i hurl down bass

i slap on harmony roughly

i drag the music from my head screaming

i herd the trampling noises through my brain

i capture the vanguard in one suite

some things arrive intact miraculously

other things must be patched and repaired

but i realise these words are meaningless

music doesnt happen in words

music doesnt reside in pictures or glyphs

and it hurts as it comes through

it burns up as it enters my mind

then it slips smoothly soothing

then it murmurs its name

then it so warm

then it so calm

then it travels at fond speed

illuminating planes and spheres of darkness

this music i have received somehow from somewhere

and i often laugh

who knows how long has passed

one minute or one year

this feeling is sustaining and yet killing me

i am combusting on myself yet always remade

and music surrounds me like the sea

and i breathe it in

and i move on

illumination of the golden ray

(this vision has been granted to me)

in the earliest days of our earth

they say our maker loved us still

and gifts were bestowed upon humanity freely

oh he lovingly shaped the womens faces in perfection

and he gave the men grace and honour

this beautiful creator

these beautiful gods

these incredible gorgeous chances

they took certain men and women

and lavished on them all divine talents

yes half gods they almost were

because their poetry was a spell calling forth wonder

their paintings were saturated in empathy and feeling

ah but their music was unearthly

impossible to describe

compared to this

our greatest symphony would be a dog barking

our most tender ballad a scraping door

our most lively song a dull ache

2 greatest of these musicians were

excelon the singer and rampion the composer

excelon looked like a queen and truly she was

no man who heard her sing did not fall in love

for she looked like aphrodite

but she sang like the widowed isis

her words seemed written by athene herself

but her manner was artemis or kali

lord rampion was a wild dissolute genius

his music made holy statues smile and shed blissful tears

within the space of one minute

within the time of one inch

rampion would conjure the darkness the light the pathos

so poignant musicians broke down in wonder to read his scores

so simple so incredibly huge like our universe itself

then so minute so complex so fragile so interconnected

divinity flowed through his arrangements

he broke every rule and proved them simultaneously

oh his music healed the broken hearts of old soldiers

deserted children sheltered within his softest lullabyes

every nation on our earth had an anthem composed by him

there are no words to describe his stuff

marvellous seems a pale and lifeless word for his work

it was loose yet so precise like a cat taking a bird out of the sky

yes his music quicker than this then slower than forever

musicians who played his symphonies were cured of illnesses

audiences sat stunned and amazed

together they had absolutely everything

it was too much

so unbearably brilliant was their collaboration

it taxed them greatly to perform it at all

they were both subject to the ecstasies that afflict us all here

and so charged was their song

even for they were not immune themselves

can you imagine music at once chaotic yet structured like a mathematical law

inducing deep profound silent reveries a hundredfold more than opium

inducing orgasms which pierced eternity

inducing a joy that was like grief

inducing pineal to release river of DMT

inducing astral selves to rise in dream like sir percival in albion

inducing visions of unending lives

the glory of our gods manifestations as all things living

inducing therefore union in unity within a unified field

the audience transported telepathed sent

lord rampion had mystified his admirers again

oh yes the ladies swooned for rampion

not because of his handsomeness tho he was no doubt that

not for his wealth or his fame though both were seemingly endless

but rampions music spoke to them deep within

deep within a most private and sacred place

deep within where pleasure and prayer are juxtaposed like snakes

deep within each woman in a deep place only a woman could understand

there rampions orchestral thrusts and feints did most surely inflame

yes of course the men loved his music too

that is a given

but the women of those times adored his sounds

for he combined the pain of woman deeper than mens

but he included the propensity for love that guides her

greater than mans

her pleasures her punishments

yes deeper than any man had ever gone before with music

rampion delved deep in the female principle

and he found a bliss that blew his mind

and he found rivers of sensual delights unknown to man

the old ladies

the mature and fertile women

the young girls and female babes

oh all hearkened to rampions strange tune

what were his ingredients but all sounds on earth….?

the sound of a sun slipping into a sky

the sound of a thought lingering on from a dream

the sound of apollos love for ishtar the temple whore

the sound of butterflies roaring as if in vacuum

the sound of safety and warmth and trust

the sound of food and home and sweet summer rain

the sound of sand and water

the song of steel the song of war

the song of prophets the song of the drug addicts

the song of the delirious genius imploding within his own enigma

the torture of endless possibility of creating intoxicating masterpieces

with but one note….

now excelon the queen of voice was to man as rampion was to woman

well her words and the way she sang oh she played every part at once

and she had overtones of spirit

and she had undertones of creature

and yes she was more graceful than a planet

and she never sang one false note or word and could not

in every appearance she was different

shockingly unrecognisably different

how could she contain so many looks…?

people tried to imitate  but she had already transformed on

oh the men paid her song close attention

coupled ferociously with rampions music

yes her words and his music complemented the other

yes her lovely words sometimes fucked his music

and then stabbed men with their anger and shame

yes her words

and his godlike music inculcated beauty that was bewilderment

together they were titans

together they were the alpha and omega

they had everything between them

her voice which had the power to revoke impotence and sickness

the voice which resonated in brains balls and bones

the voice which whispered glimpses of godly mystery

the voice which whispered pure filth as if in abandon and rut

the voice which spoke of nirvana and mother and child and soul

and her words which were koans which were a cant which were inexplicable

in every language in no language at all

her voice and words did not promise joy

there were joy unto themselves

they alluded to nothing but wonder

yet they were intimate

each man secretly believed she addressed only him

in his heart of hearts her song blossomed as rapture

an energising stimulant a soothing painkiller

men in love with her were as mad lovers in the heat of it all

yes somehow she reached inside the mens hearts and garments

and she used her voice and her words to weave gossamer chains

and the men were then gladly bound in bondage to her glorious song

and each listened to each song in eternal astonishment at its power

and never did one grew tired not ever …..

tomorrow part 2

trank

in the hollow where its never empty

in the place of darkness

in the time set aside for a purpose

i see her come through my cold haze

i see her kneeling on the floor

i see her return and climb aboard

the white skin

mouth the red stain

the unquenchable abyss

i dive in i dive in deep

suddenly everything is potent

suddenly every caress has some hidden opposite

voices cry out in the night

in the eternal room they dine on taboos

they do all the wrong things there

everything is acting most unnaturally

in the eye of the fever is a cool calm

sin after sin after sin

hard to escape its gravity

easy to escape a pull

flesh on flesh on flesh on flesh

i am surrounded by naked women

oh how they writhe and tempt me

i feel so cruel i feel so kind

all kinds of women

stupid and brilliant

pretty and plain

i am some high up official in some government

i am a one man orgy

i bring saturnalia on a saturday night

music pounds in the distance

some divine creature kisses my back

some other morsel anoints my feet

and we kiss everyone there

tongues darting in mouths like little fish

my little fish who swim around me nibbling

my piscina is overflowing

i open my veins to the 7 winds and 4 seas

i drown in tits n ass

i go down in my dreamy way

sinking sinking away

i stop breathing at some point

ive held my breath for weeks

i bathe the infirm goddesses who are too languid to care

i undress them with my greediest fingers

tugging all along

i am hot and red and bathed in sweat

i am in a cage where i ought to be

i will be caught and eaten alive

i am just there in the still of dawn

holding on in the grey light of time

carnality so good and obvious

let us enjoy ourselves eh fellows ….?

we are not here to be monks

we are not here to be fucking namby pamby

do something properly improper if it exists

let your hands grab

let your fingers squeeze

let your eyes devour, gentlemen

let your loins be girded

and let all your christmases be white

lost and frowned

a black cat night

i have forgotten my name i have forgotten my self

oh finally i seem to be someone else

i look out at all this with my new eyes

i touch the night with my new hands

in australia where it is primitive

nature runs rampant

the bugs are omnipresent

the trees and plants and flowers hustle in shadows

cars driving here and there and back again

friday night picking up momentum

wind picks up

dealer picks up

ambulance picks up

taxi picks up

guitarist picks up

drummer picks up

music begins

a symphony for friday night perfect night

ive never heard music like this

i never knew a night like this

perfect temperature

perfect sky

perfect breeze perfect trees

still some cruel morning will shatter it

and i’ll be me again in a trice

you can be sure

glittering out there

now is elusive

then is gone

sometimes the sand contains footprints

although no one has walked upon it

my moon in its absence a vivid crescent scar

the suburbs around the asylum are strangely jungle like

we never seem to arrive anywhere much

although we travel so intently

i have lived in every house on this street

as each new life dawns i move one door closer to morning

yes i move out of night where things are uncertain

i leave a beast in me behind in darkness

i leave breadcrumbs to find my way back

poets lost in naive forests

the pastel trees the gouache fruits turned hard

the acrylic sun with its metallic gold rays

i pick up my gigantic heavy axe

from overhead music is transmitted down down

signal is apprehended

its imagistic messages are stored in my cortex

the middleman has gone

the portal is open

i begin the ascent of my everest

no

i’m sitting here in the luxuriant dark

smelling like a mediterranean fig

telling you the same old jig

still

some hope that you can dig

attic man

serenity grant me a god

i am in love with this earth

i want to know who fashioned her green seas

and who colours these azure heavens

and who is that causes stars to fall in white lines

and who guides the bloom from the bud

and who teaches the first bird to fly

who has given the bees honey

who has given the river to the salmon

i am in love in this earth

its waterfalls its gorgeous palms

its rainbows arcing up the sky

its verdant lands under sun and moon

the lovely women of this earth

as they sing as they work as they sway

the wonderful women of this planet

as they sleep as they remember as they love

i am in love with the women in the sky

i am in love with the women in the water

i am in love with the women who no longer live

i am in love with delilah and sheba and jezebel

i am in love with athene and elektra and radha

i am in love with the touch with the feeling

i am in love with this sweet world i am a fool

i kiss the shore i kiss the cloud i kiss the waves

i kiss daughter i kiss sister i kiss mother i kiss other

i kiss the future goodbye

god who made god

your world is very lovely

i am in love with parrot i am in love with black cat

i am in love with music

i am a fool

god who made the god who made this world

god of man god who created woman

a man in love with god and woman i am

just another man i love my tiny daughter

i love girls i love them all i am a fool

the music i hear in the womens voices

the paintings i see in their eyes

the mornings i see in their afternoons

who made these afternoons of gentlest grey

who made these perfect raindrops

who made these ferns and these flowers

i am in love with the rain

i am in love with the earth itself

it seems to speak somehow

it seems to retain our memory

everything all mixed up i expect

the way man grows in woman

the way tree grows in earth

the way storm grows in sky

all filled with spirit

all filled with life

the dead return among us

the souls go round and round

the music is playing

everything is dancing to it

mountain city sun and sea

they say

everything is OK

storey of my life

coming up the valleys and into the hills

child it was a time of celebration and prayer

a morning of the universal day

the twilight of memories now gone

before all this even we were others

we were glorious lithe warriors

how we leapt thru the enemy like ghosts

oh how we streamed twirled and struck

oh how we glutted on their wine and wives

some parts of us forget

we hid in swamps we flew in skies

we dug in the earths

we slipped through their seas

we mastered music we mastered art we mastered beast

we mastered cosmic winds which hauled our souls and their baggage

we climbed aboard ships in africa

and we fell off women in lemuria

i was a clown i was a hunter i was a merchant

you were a wolf you were a star you were a scientist

we caroused through temples and we meditated in motels

cut off from humanity

white noise of the rain

the rain cleansed us

the rain bound us to the ground

while natures forest hemmed us in

words woven by ancestors distant and certainly strange

we struggle with the meaning of their sutras and formulae

or is it we pretend not to know

what our hearts most fear to hear….?

that there is no god

that there is no hope

that this is all an accident

that its all a mistake

something in us cannot accept it

we are in inner conflict and turmoil over this

they say life is stupid but we are smart

unbearable to be wrong so we never question it

still i feel some guidance in my hand

still i hear some whisper in my head

still i feel some movement in my etheric double

i remember pasts i have broken down walls in my mind

i must shoulder all of humanity even tho it doth not exist

i must feed the animal at my door

i must stoke the ravenous fire of creation and destruction

things must come in and other things go out of my world

i must loom large or shrink small

i await further instructions of my sweet liege lord

i understand the signs you will send in symbols and impressions

i will read the clouds and listen in to silences profound

i will dismantle my defences so as to absorb your divine sky

i will kneel to your beautiful images

of thoth and krishna and christos and other saints

oh blessed one say it is true…!

say one day we will walk together on days that last forever

lost in your lovely song in pastures of the bluest cranes

where lotus blooms and wild honey seeps neath arbours bough

little spider spins her silver web

and stately swans drift on Acheron

along the fields of Taliesin

or in lambent company

with you

the author

out there

somewhere out there

in unknown places and rooms

in gardens and mirrors

is saturday night

full of drink and drugs

saturday night when things drift

when sprawling warm night

wild and lawless tho ever gentle

down by the shore and white hotel

in a hundred rooms

the sea breeze on naked flesh

a woman in a shower

a man waiting in a bed

a man jumps out of a cab

a woman in a bath drinking champagne

the parties throb and roar around the shore

people already plastered

dogs howl in black back yards

some repetitious deep thump in the earth miles off

laughter in the air caught up in strange echoes

laughter on the wind laughter in the pubs

laughter in the rooms at the hotel

laughter as someone watches a comedy on tv

i go for a swim in the tepid green sea

i swim lazy a stoned martyr

i drift or rise over small waves

i see the sandy seabed and grey silver fish swimming inside the nets

my mind says swim harder but my body rebels

some other mind is second guessing me i guess

but who guesses …me or the other….and how would you know….?

saturday night is a glittery valley full of blurry stars

the salty air is corroding everything …metal and spiritual

resolutions dissolved in the sea light

memory of unending summer rolled out each year

donkey rides and ghost stories

saturday night was a wild card a loose canon

saturday night in minuscule microcosm

pizza beer drive crash arrest

pot tv toast pot tv toast

sex sleep sex sleep

food wine taxi club hotel internet bed

i wander in the periphery of night

a marginal twilight where us poets stumble

saturday night is a beast we relish in spades

and we spear it with our words of spleen

but it always comes back bigger and dumber

the police get called to a scene

some trouble in the domestics

some harsh words are thrown

some blows are spoken

everyone must blame each other

the night doesnt care one way or another

the night is warm and still young

its all out there waiting if ye can but find it

all the brothels all the casinos

all the night clubs embroiled with strife

all the numbing noise of a million songs

competing in the ether for life

i touch reality i move thru time

soon too soon it all comes to a head

saturday night in the vale of tears

saturday night in the early century

we rush towards a midnight

i can feel them willing it

midnight appears to each in a new guise

to the lovers midnight is gentle

to the widow midnight is hard

to the child midnight is full of horrors

to the weary man midnight is a sweet release

saturday night bursts at it seems

it seems important it seems somehow permanent

the seaside is full of toughs from the exterior

and they flock to the ocean and the pop up bars

but that was our yesterdays full of saturday

saturdays full colour in glorious glow

tonight makes me suddenly tired

i must abjure

into this deep night

now

conceit

i search in the sun for the final axiom

that one liner that can make sense of everything

my whole life the universe the lot

stumbling and fumbling

fuming and frauding

i grope the darkness

am i inside my own mind

there is no answer

intuition is a behind the scenes peek

premonition a sneak preview

gotta hunch gotta hunch

never ever a free lunch

your owner gender with its own agenda

now being a boy is something else again

i remember streaming through trees

i climbed up a trunk and removed a pale blue egg

the weather was sultry and angry that day

a storm had turned the afternoon to black

a warm premature night had fallen on us

soft bells tinkled far away

magic climes of childhood on my skin

before i traded my naivete in

before i started hankering

anyway coherency seems to elude me

you know i mean well

well i mean i mean what i meant to say

take it as given

understand it as said

me n my head

what will we do when full of dread

and keep the children fed

we sped towards the end

whirlpool

i am some writer living in some paris

typewriter days

nights of opium and women

yeah i know some famous people

my name should be on the door

inside my house is red and black

and white empty paper strewn carelessly

i write stuff like this

In the bar with some German Girls that Pierre met at the station

Ingrid and Somebody Else as usual Pierre never introduced any one

(properly) but I was talking to Ingrid and we were discussing the aristocracy

(I thought!) when some great German fellow rudely interrupted us and he and

Ingrid began arguing in German. I took this to be her fiance Rudy Neuman…….

a colossal blonde brute all muscle and swagger  …..he glared at me as he interrogated

poor Ingrid ….he was about forty and in excellent shape a real street bully type…

after a while i grew tired of his boorish manner and spoke to him in french

but this Rudy paid it no attention

so i told him in English to leave off and be the hell more quiet.

Ingrid turned to me

No Jean…. She said.

Too late I’m afraid.

The brute was at me and i took a hit to my eye at once

I clumsily stumbled and bumped my head on a chair

ten minutes later i was i a taxi

with Ingrid nursing my throbbing head,

she was drinking brandy from a silver flask

and singing something soft and hoarse in german

there there my little boy …she said when she saw me open my eyes

you were wounded for me in battle ….she pronounced it vounded

no no …not at all ….I protested

but  she smothered me in her lap all warmth and perfume and alcohol

soon she was stroking me all over …her strong hands under my suit …

Now see here …! i said muffled against her summer dress in that warm taxi.

Yes my child …? .she bent down and whispered tipsily in my ear…

her perfume and proximity were quite overpowering i can tell you…

Her hands reached into my shorts and grasped my manhood ….

Ah! she said happily as she moved her hand in the darkness.

Upfront the Taxi Cab driver i knew was a friend of Darlenes brother Roy.

He was watching all this in the backseat with interest…

He clucked his tongue as our eyes joined in his mirror.

But the german woman was getting out her large white breasts

and at the same time furiously trying to undress me!

Roy watched us intently and I do believe he was becoming aroused

He had stopped noticing the road ahead and with a superhuman

effort i leaped into the front seat while Ingrid held onto my Trousers

I took hold of the wheel in time for us to collide with Tremblay the local gendarme

He was unhurt but his motorcycle was a complete write-off!

I sat there in the front seat sans pants smelling of brandy whilst

crushing darlenes brothers friend Roy..who was not happy!

meanwhile in the back Ingrid sobbed uncontrollably

her ample bosoms heaving up and down spectacularly in rhythm

Well Jean …?.said Tremblay frowning like a dark cloud

Its ok …I said smiling …I think  i can explain…..!

Monsieur… said Tremblay …..This time it had better be good!