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the gas …..but whos laughing ?

finally i meet my dental waterloomy four front upper teeth reduced to pinsto accommodate my new crowns (what a king)i spend 3 hours in the chairafter a bit of an argumentmy dentist gives me the maximum gaswhile he drills my teeth awayand takes impressions etcmeanwhile where do i go…?i recede away from this world as is my wonti breathe in the gas and i evaporate behind my screaming teethi finally realize …just like the walrus said…theres nothing to get hung aboutaction seems unnecessaryall my wriggling jiggling where will it get me but the gravei dissociate from myselfwhoever i am todaywherever i wasits 2010 the distant futuremy mouth is full of chemicalspre-anestheticanesthetic itselfimpression pastemy old n rotten teeth as they are drilledglue and cloves and god knows whatthe gas mask is hurting pushing down on my partially numbed noseinside my head i think of one thousand thingsmy old lives yesor my old lies i cannot telli was a soldier who laid waste ilium covered in other mens blood i hooked charioteers with my barbed speari burned heifers to lord zeus who seemed to answer my prayersi raped the women in the cityi looted the houses and i sat back drinking red winewhile some quack stitched up my leg and my armmiles away somewhere the dentistis drill drill drilling my mouth is openmy lip is splitthe assistant sucks the saliva out of my mouththe city of sydney looms around grey n facelessmy face hurts in every worldi must write this down in my blog i say to myselvesbut what was it i wanted to write?music from a terrible radio station filters through n downdown in my head where i’m drowning in gasi walk the streets of russiai live in my little apartment where i drink teai am quite madbut i write lovely […]

finally i meet my dental waterloo
my four front upper teeth reduced to pins
to accommodate my new crowns
(what a king)
i spend 3 hours in the chair
after a bit of an argument
my dentist gives me the maximum gas
while he drills my teeth away
and takes impressions etc
meanwhile where do i go…?
i recede away from this world as is my wont
i breathe in the gas and i evaporate behind my screaming teeth
i finally realize …just like the walrus said…
theres nothing to get hung about
action seems unnecessary
all my wriggling jiggling where will it get me but the grave
i dissociate from myself
whoever i am today
wherever i was
its 2010 the distant future
my mouth is full of chemicals
pre-anesthetic
anesthetic itself
impression paste
my old n rotten teeth as they are drilled
glue and cloves and god knows what
the gas mask is hurting
pushing down on my partially numbed nose
inside my head
i think of one thousand things
my old lives yes
or my old lies i cannot tell
i was a soldier who laid waste ilium
covered in other mens blood
i hooked charioteers with my barbed spear
i burned heifers to lord zeus
who seemed to answer my prayers
i raped the women in the city
i looted the houses
and i sat back drinking red wine
while some quack stitched up my leg and my arm
miles away somewhere the dentist
is drill drill drilling
my mouth is open
my lip is split
the assistant sucks the saliva out of my mouth
the city of sydney looms around grey n faceless
my face hurts in every world
i must write this down in my blog i say to myselves
but what was it i wanted to write?
music from a terrible radio station filters through n down
down in my head where i’m drowning in gas
i walk the streets of russia
i live in my little apartment where i drink tea
i am quite mad
but i write lovely music on my piano
its cold today
i’m freezing in here
the music i write turns into birds that fly away
the snow falls down outside and i am quietly sad
i see myself in the mirror
some shadow in the candlelight
the sound of horses and sleighs
the taste of stale bread
no firewood left
the grate grows cold
i retire to my bed to keep warm
even sleep does not come
i lie awake in some confused reverie
when the drill interrupts my life
the dentists is saying
can you open a little wider please
i long for it to end
all of it
the lights in my eyes
the noise inside my mouth
resonating in enamel
the sensation of helplessness
finally its over
i stumble out into cold daylight
and walk about 5 kms in a daze
i take codeine when i get home
more drugs
more haze
more daze
less days

far q

postcard from heatwavepalms clouds turbulence red roofs green trees white flowersdogbark birdsing catcreepi am hurting hurting hurtingdont read on if you dont want to hold my breathoh i feel 1000 years oldthe dying summer has flared up into a burning ballive fled sleep i left it aching on the bedi pull on my mansuitand its all torn n damagedmy lip wont heal upmy heel giving me lipmy bones feel like they been x-rayed by firei’d eat lethargy on toast but i ran outta breaddont read on if you dont want to read ondont complain of my paindont threaten me now i’m in beyonddoctor my I’ssea accept mesky why wont you cryi accomplish nothingi wish for nothingi long for nothingnessremove me from the constant this or thati thought that life was a bowl of cherries…once….flyscreen rips off in the windone more billone more callone more messageone more waitingone more lifeone more universe one more infinity of infinitiesi been myself so many timesi want outi want ini want it all n i cant wait much longerwhat do you want me to wanti’ll tell you what i wantenergyi want energy all youve gotgive it to me ha you cantall your energy couldnt touch my sidesevery word i think of is 1 million caloriesthink of me as angelic beastmy appetites are the purest dew from the dirtiest puddlebut i’m a wingless beast (now)i cant fly except in somebody elses stupid dreamsa bedraggled hide cages an eternal strengthwhen i say look out you better look outbut i wont say it todayso go awayyes go away and leave here in this silvery heati am ulysses 4 grantedi sailed away babyi am on my voyage nowmy voyage round the traps and dips my journey to the eastthe eastern suburbs i meanwhatever happened to whatsisname anywayand all the […]

postcard from heatwave
palms clouds turbulence
red roofs green trees white flowers
dogbark birdsing catcreep
i am hurting hurting hurting
dont read on if you dont want to hold my breath
oh i feel 1000 years old
the dying summer has flared up into a burning ball
ive fled sleep
i left it aching on the bed
i pull on my mansuit
and its all torn n damaged
my lip wont heal up
my heel giving me lip
my bones feel like they been x-rayed by fire
i’d eat lethargy on toast but i ran outta bread
dont read on if you dont want to read on
dont complain of my pain
dont threaten me now i’m in beyond
doctor my I’s
sea accept me
sky why wont you cry
i accomplish nothing
i wish for nothing
i long for nothingness
remove me from the constant this or that
i thought that life was a bowl of cherries…once….
flyscreen rips off in the wind
one more bill
one more call
one more message
one more waiting
one more life
one more universe
one more infinity of infinities
i been myself so many times
i want out
i want in
i want it all n i cant wait much longer
what do you want me to want
i’ll tell you what i want
energy
i want energy all youve got
give it to me ha you cant
all your energy couldnt touch my sides
every word i think of is 1 million calories
think of me as angelic beast
my appetites are the purest dew
from the dirtiest puddle
but i’m a wingless beast (now)
i cant fly except in somebody elses stupid dreams
a bedraggled hide cages an eternal strength
when i say look out you better look out
but i wont say it today
so go away
yes go away and leave here in this silvery heat
i am ulysses 4 granted
i sailed away baby
i am on my voyage now
my voyage round the traps and dips
my journey to the east
the eastern suburbs i mean
whatever happened to whatsisname anyway
and all the other whatsisnames
oh i grow tired just reckoning them
as countless as the molluscs in a stale pool
as hopeless as all the fucking muggles with their beer n tv
as oafish as a cartoon buffoon or paltry paltroon
the hoi fucking polloi
the nouveau stupid
the modern zeitgeist heist
some call me faustus
some call me steve
some call me nothing
which do you believe?

biff jerky

nebulous flimsy

saturday night i sit by the open windowthe banished poet at summers long endlights of the city say twinkle twinkleits quiet tonightsomewhere out there may rage wild festivitiesbut not up this streetthe wind blows lonelyit whispers wickedly of winterit implies some sad finality without saying a thingdoors rattle n bang in its wakethe curtains are blindthe windows see nothingthe palms nod out in the orange crescent moonthe clock becomes loudoh god my pulse is racing awayi feel cold despite the balminessmy head feels heavyanxiety and anger fuck with mei have exacerbated my fierinessi have energy yesbut sometimes it whips me on before ittoday i sat for my portrait for the archibald prizeaustralias big portrait prizeandrew h is doing this 2 metres high painting of moii try to pick his brains about art i ask him many complicated questionsi must have been distracting himhe is a truly lovely mana gentleman in the real sense of the worda proper artist who sells paintings in galleries6 years of art schoolbut today he couldnt get mehe couldnt nail me in that paintingim going back next weeki believe in this mani believe he will paint a marvellous picture of mei know my face so wellbecause i have done so many self portraitsand because i’m a narcissistic fooli can see where andrews going wrongand then i do what i joked early i would never doi offered suggestionsmy nose isnt that long etci’m supposed to keep shut upbut i talked the whole fucking timei realized today that picasso was the only major painterwho switched genres or created new genres all the time i mean most guys from rembrandt down to rousseau they get their trip n then spend their lives improving on itbut picasso was like the beatleshe invent a thingplay around with it for a little […]

saturday night i sit by the open window
the banished poet at summers long end
lights of the city say twinkle twinkle
its quiet tonight
somewhere out there may rage wild festivities
but not up this street
the wind blows lonely
it whispers wickedly of winter
it implies some sad finality without saying a thing
doors rattle n bang in its wake
the curtains are blind
the windows see nothing
the palms nod out in the orange crescent moon
the clock becomes loud
oh god my pulse is racing away
i feel cold despite the balminess
my head feels heavy
anxiety and anger fuck with me
i have exacerbated my fieriness
i have energy yes
but sometimes it whips me on before it
today i sat for my portrait for the archibald prize
australias big portrait prize
andrew h is doing this 2 metres high painting of moi
i try to pick his brains about art
i ask him many complicated questions
i must have been distracting him
he is a truly lovely man
a gentleman in the real sense of the word
a proper artist who sells paintings in galleries
6 years of art school
but today he couldnt get me
he couldnt nail me in that painting
im going back next week
i believe in this man
i believe he will paint a marvellous picture of me
i know my face so well
because i have done so many self portraits
and because i’m a narcissistic fool
i can see where andrews going wrong
and then i do what i joked early i would never do
i offered suggestions
my nose isnt that long etc
i’m supposed to keep shut up
but i talked the whole fucking time
i realized today that picasso was the only major painter
who switched genres or created new genres all the time
i mean most guys from rembrandt down to rousseau
they get their trip n then spend their lives improving on it
but picasso was like the beatles
he invent a thing
play around with it for a little while
then get a new trip
leaving all the second tier guys to forever remain
in that one new thing he’d figured out
eg career cubists….
wow i really like andrew
softly spoken and humble to a tee
i ask him curly questions as hes trying to grok
the proportions of my face
dragging him out of the spatial n into the verbal
finally i say to him
do you ever think youre a genius ?
and he finally laughs n shakes his head
its a release for us both
i point out to him the idiosyncrasies of my face
he keeps saying
youre very chiselled
now that i’ve been a vegan
my face has become angular again
andrew said
is it that you look young
or are all the people your age looking old?
yes the latter it is
i do not look young
i have the wear n tear of 55 years on my old dial
but guess what
i finally feel happy with my face
i feel at home in it
what you see is what you get
you can have a look at me n see the kinda geezer i am
i’m quick
i ‘m sharp
i’m a bit proud n cruel
but i’m a bit sympathetic and naive too
i am an old boy
you see the discipline of yoga has somehow
done something to my face
time and drugs have fucked it up in one way
and yoga n veganism n swimming
have altered it another
sometimes i am surprised to see myself
sometimes i look so goddamn old
its ok fuck i’m coming on 56
i become old with a naive wonder
and if i continue to grow old like this well i dont mind
i put a lot into yoga and i reap the rewards of long hours
when other people are watching tv or sleeping in
or down the bloody pub
i’m on my balcony whether its hot or cold
i’m out there doing my practice
and if you did something as much as i do yoga
youd expect some results wouldnt you
its a fucking ongoing experiment to see where it could take me
its a miraculous process
it is a type of magic
the transformation of the regular old geezer
into something a bit more souped up
so now i really contain visual contradictions
someone wrote of one our shows
that i oscillate onstage between ancient and youthful
i reckon i got a bit of female mojo in me too
i aint no fucking clown drinking beer n watching tv
i’m the sensitive bloke
i got 5 daughters remember
so there you go
you paint me
you gotta get the young n the old
the masculine n the feminine
the genius n the fool
the rockstar n the nobody
the saint n the sinner
the ascetic n the hedonist
yeah i fucking fascinate myself dont i?
its understandable but its unforgivable
believe me i have more contempt than admiration
i been lucky
n most of my wounds have been self inflicted
if i ever suffered it was me who did it to me
i never been abused
i never been abandoned
i never been really sick
i been undeservedly lucky
especially in the last year
3 good men who are good at what they do
have stepped in n helped me out
i guess they like my music enough
to understand me n see
that i could certainly use some guidance
that when it comes to business n stuff
i am a bit hopeless
i want those gentlemen to know
i am very very grateful
and a fourth gentleman too
whose been helping the cause a long long time
i cant believe that our fans are often
doctors pilots scientists lawyers teachers professors
i’m glad that at the end of a long day
they can lose their brilliant minds in my work
i put a lot of secret compartments in my songs
and these guys enjoy finding them
i try my hardest to avoid cliche
i write songs for clever people
if you really like my music you must be pretty clever
otherwise you wouldnt dig it
thats why i can never be hugely popular
i yearn for great popularity n money
but in truth i knew that by doing what i do
by having my ridiculous ideals
by working with the other guys in the church
who can be scathing with criticism if i fuck up
so i….. yeah…. yeah….
more about kilbey by kilbey
nebulous flimsy
nonsense n whimsy
simultaneously important n utterly irrelevant
my songs will not change your life
they will enhance it
i have some good records waiting in the wings
i got an angular face
i’m getting some new teeth
i got some good friends
with whom i get by with a little help
i got a beautiful bass
i can speak a bit of swedish
i got tv appearances lined up
i get in the newspaper
i made over 50 records
i written a million songs
i did a million gigs
i been everywhere
i tried every drug
i been rich n poor
fuck it
i still aint happy though……
go n fuckin’ figure….

notes on notes

well i was tiredand some other things going onwe were more evenhanded than canberrabut canberra had the oomph!sydney i was just too spaced out to focusit had been a long daysometimes everything else gets in the waythe other guys thought it was goodi was just a bit underwhelmed with myselfi expected a secret cache of energy to fill me when i hit stagebut it never arrivedneverthelessthats itits over for a whileenmore theatre on 20, 21 march for rockwiza tour of perth/wa with ricky in early marchrecording for down to cardboard n deadmans hand ep next weekgetting teeth started on next weektrying to get everything else done before usa aprilboytoday i am one drained tired worn out old rockerin spades!!

well i was tired
and some other things going on
we were more evenhanded than canberra
but canberra had the oomph!
sydney i was just too spaced out to focus
it had been a long day
sometimes everything else gets in the way
the other guys thought it was good
i was just a bit underwhelmed with myself
i expected a secret cache of energy to fill me when i hit stage
but it never arrived
nevertheless
thats it
its over for a while
enmore theatre on 20, 21 march for rockwiz
a tour of perth/wa with ricky in early march
recording for down to cardboard n deadmans hand ep next week
getting teeth started on next week
trying to get everything else done before usa april
boy
today i am one drained tired worn out old rocker
in spades!!

nations capital

back to canberraback to lynehamwhere it all begantilley devines a great venuesold out in 2 hoursi arrive a little earlywalk round my old schoolsprimary n highmy friend nelg has filmed me waxing rhapsodic on the ill kept lawns cant find any real nostalgiaits all dried up n moved onwe go into venuea creature with a long blonde wig approaches methe face of a manbreasts of a ladyvoice not too ladylikesteve do you remember me?uh ,…err no…oh god…noyou knew me before i was a girl says the personi think: a girl is one thing you are notthe person twirls around in front of meshowing off the new bitsturns out i did know this geezeroh god i saythe person was a musician who once played with peter knice to meet you again man i saywhoops i mean i dont mean man i mean….err… um….how confusing!we botch our soundchecktechnical issues etcthey let the crowd in n we slink offnice tofu dinner on sidewalk cafeeventually do gigvery small stagehey we rockedit was acoustic toothe crowd really erupts during 1st songand stays a great audience all night long for uswe play welli get carried away start jumping aboutwow it was a good gigafterwards i meet some old pals of mineshouldnt have had that coffee for 3 hour drive homeget back home at 3 something n cannot sleeptired like a donkey but cant sleepwell i got my second wind nowhope i dont sag tonite in sydneynotes in enmoreplease come this is a kinda one off show toniteor stay home see if i care…ok gonna try for some rest nowlotsa love etcsk

back to canberra
back to lyneham
where it all began
tilley devines a great venue
sold out in 2 hours
i arrive a little early
walk round my old schools
primary n high
my friend nelg has filmed me waxing rhapsodic
on the ill kept lawns
cant find any real nostalgia
its all dried up n moved on
we go into venue
a creature with a long blonde wig approaches me
the face of a man
breasts of a lady
voice not too ladylike
steve do you remember me?
uh ,…err no…oh god…no
you knew me before i was a girl says the person
i think: a girl is one thing you are not
the person twirls around in front of me
showing off the new bits
turns out i did know this geezer
oh god i say
the person was a musician who once played with peter k
nice to meet you again man i say
whoops i mean i dont mean man i mean….err… um….
how confusing!
we botch our soundcheck
technical issues etc
they let the crowd in n we slink off
nice tofu dinner on sidewalk cafe
eventually do gig
very small stage
hey we rocked
it was acoustic too
the crowd really erupts during 1st song
and stays a great audience all night long for us
we play well
i get carried away start jumping about
wow it was a good gig
afterwards i meet some old pals of mine
shouldnt have had that coffee for 3 hour drive home
get back home at 3 something n cannot sleep
tired like a donkey but cant sleep
well i got my second wind now
hope i dont sag tonite in sydney
notes in enmore
please come
this is a kinda one off show tonite
or stay home see if i care…
ok gonna try for some rest now
lotsa love etc
sk

understanding everything

we will never understand everythingevery question opening a hundred doorsyou adore the opening thereforewherein time slows suspended in viscous nightsand i come marauding your hamletsi lay waste your virgin meadowsi put your question to the swordsomething has turned me red againsomething has burned me dead againbut a brute dumb force makes me jerk aroundand we both watch your face as you go under the hammergoinggoingbutnever truly gonenot gone like timenot gone like sick sweet lovenot gone like the forests of antarcticanot gone like atlantis who went down to the bedwith a crystal melodious keening groanwe both come backwe all come backor maybe notif some do notthen someone somewhere will understand thatif not you or i then someone mustthere must be a reason for what happens it is the only outcomea servant to my old nemesis’ oppositedawn finds me on my sidemy vitality and my will hold me together justmy will to go onto be moreto see moreto exploremy face has sheered off into anglesi was some pretty prints but that was ages agoin the red light of the naked bulbi appear even redder than red and ready tooi see it all better through my blurry eyethe colours dilate in some plasmatic schemawhite flesh with soft plummy bruisesturning purple and violet blue greenlike a snowball gathering speed and sizeyour white waist flares into white hipsand the white clouds are absorbed in the white skyi wonder which part of everythingall this will help me to understandnaturally there will always be loose ends to be tied upthe details irritate me howeverbring out the things that i likemake it really good or really badthe years are disappearing underwheelmind and body need investigationwe are surely capable of morethe seer and the seersuckerthe mother and the motherloadthe farther off the fatherlanddont go backstay right now on […]

we will never understand everything
every question opening a hundred doors
you adore the opening therefore
wherein time slows suspended in viscous nights
and i come marauding your hamlets
i lay waste your virgin meadows
i put your question to the sword
something has turned me red again
something has burned me dead again
but a brute dumb force makes me jerk around
and we both watch your face as you go under the hammer
going
going
but
never truly gone
not gone like time
not gone like sick sweet love
not gone like the forests of antarctica
not gone like atlantis who went down to the bed
with a crystal melodious keening groan
we both come back
we all come back
or maybe not
if some do not
then someone somewhere will understand that
if not you or i then someone must
there must be a reason for what happens
it is the only outcome
a servant to my old nemesis’ opposite
dawn finds me on my side
my vitality and my will hold me together just
my will to go on
to be more
to see more
to explore
my face has sheered off into angles
i was some pretty prints but that was ages ago
in the red light of the naked bulb
i appear even redder than red and ready too
i see it all better through my blurry eye
the colours dilate in some plasmatic schema
white flesh with soft plummy bruises
turning purple and violet blue green
like a snowball gathering speed and size
your white waist flares into white hips
and the white clouds are absorbed in the white sky
i wonder which part of everything
all this will help me to understand
naturally there will always be loose ends to be tied up
the details irritate me however
bring out the things that i like
make it really good or really bad
the years are disappearing underwheel
mind and body need investigation
we are surely capable of more
the seer and the seersucker
the mother and the motherload
the farther off the fatherland
dont go back
stay right now on this very word until it is gone
not gone like the wind
not gone flake
not gone bad
not gone cheap
not gone forever
forever baby
they say in the songs thats a long long time
but nowdays forever is only ever a few minutes away
you can see it if you but have the eyes
the future parading around with its lovely ass hanging out
and forever is sitting there watching
watching watching
making small growling sounds perhaps
whats the time mr wolfe?
the big bad old wolf
christian wolf
whoever wolf
wolfgang amadeus wolf
yeah so forever is like mr wolf
and the future appearing as little red riding hood
and mr wolf is licking at little rrh
his big forever tongue
can you understand this part of everything my dear…?
he has eaten the childs milfish granny already
(who was the past, of course)
and now that slightly handsome angular wolf
with his snaggle teeth and nasty nips
with his lupine lope
with his devouring hope
mr wolf dressed in his mansuit
look his paws are really hands
and little rrh says where wolf?
she does not realize mr wolf is a real wolf
she thinks hes an actor auditioning for a part
what kind of film is this she says sitting up blinking
several men stand around handling the technical details
they laugh and smoke cigarettes and ignore her
the wolf forever however
he opens his jaws ready to swallow
when
the present as the axeman suddenly bursts in upon us
he cuts open forever to reveal the past
little rrh pulls on her pants sadly
the boys pack up n go home
and the cleaners come in
then we leave
though
still not understanding everything

rehearsal

i rehearsedit was oki dont like rehearsal mucha necessary evili guesssee you round the trapssk

i rehearsed
it was ok
i dont like rehearsal much
a necessary evil
i guess
see you round the traps
sk

sunday morning rain

suddenly its sundaythe sabbath daythe day they saythat olde jehovah rested after creating heaven n earthi got this book “genesis” illustrated by r.crumbwow!i say it againwow!the illustrations are fucking superbbutthe story of creation n noah n abraham and all that crowdhow the hell they call this the good book…?1i know i said it beforebut wheres the goodness?take old abraham for examplehe wandered round the middle eastsaying his wife was his sistertricking his hosts who may or may not have had their way with herand then getting goats gold and slaves when embarrassed pharaoh or whoeverrealizes hes been doing abes wifenot only that but him n his wife are already over 100 by this stageand a load of other petty silly trickeryand daughters “knowing” their fathersand all the blokes marry their frickin’ cousinsand talking snakeys of coursedim references to the nephilim(who the fuck are they actually?)and a supreme deity who prefers to sniff burning lambsthan a nice dish of organic veggiesoh my socksthe western world which invents supersonic jetsis pretending to believe this stuffthis incredible allegoric mish mash of old storiesi mean why the fuck am i supposed to be on abrahams sidewhats so good about him?god keeps telling him he’ll have millions of descendants…why would that motivate you…?god :here steve run around the middle east, pimp out your wifeknock up your slave girl, almost sacrifice your little sonnyand get involved in a load of malarkey!me : but god ….i dont wanna….please…god : dont you wanna have millions of descendants…?me : NO!!!god : well what were ya thinking of…..me : ok…well…psychic powers, a few gallons of nepenthea nice tent with oasis glimpses in upper samaria etc….awits just so hard to reconcilethe clumsy seemingly self-contradicting actions of jehovahwith the glorious universe itself which he supposedly createdhe is all the worst aspects of […]

suddenly its sunday
the sabbath day
the day they say
that olde jehovah rested after creating heaven n earth
i got this book “genesis” illustrated by r.crumb
wow!
i say it again
wow!
the illustrations are fucking superb
but
the story of creation n noah n abraham and all that crowd
how the hell they call this the good book…?1
i know i said it before
but wheres the goodness?
take old abraham for example
he wandered round the middle east
saying his wife was his sister
tricking his hosts
who may or may not have had their way with her
and then getting goats gold and slaves
when embarrassed pharaoh or whoever
realizes hes been doing abes wife
not only that
but him n his wife are already over 100 by this stage
and a load of other petty silly trickery
and daughters “knowing” their fathers
and all the blokes marry their frickin’ cousins
and talking snakeys of course
dim references to the nephilim
(who the fuck are they actually?)
and a supreme deity who prefers to sniff burning lambs
than a nice dish of organic veggies
oh my socks
the western world which invents supersonic jets
is pretending to believe this stuff
this incredible allegoric mish mash of old stories
i mean why the fuck am i supposed to be on abrahams side
whats so good about him?
god keeps telling him he’ll have millions of descendants…
why would that motivate you…?
god :here steve run around the middle east, pimp out your wife
knock up your slave girl, almost sacrifice your little sonny
and get involved in a load of malarkey!
me : but god ….i dont wanna….please…
god : dont you wanna have millions of descendants…?
me : NO!!!
god : well what were ya thinking of…..
me : ok…well…psychic powers, a few gallons of nepenthe
a nice tent with oasis glimpses in upper samaria etc….
aw
its just so hard to reconcile
the clumsy seemingly self-contradicting actions of jehovah
with the glorious universe itself which he supposedly created
he is all the worst aspects of a tyrant
narcissistic nepotistic arbitrary spiteful sadistic
no wonder with religions like this we have run amok
promised lands n chosen people
what about the rest of us?
why does a god who designed n created gazelles n cheetahs
care about grumpy old abe n his fleabitten camels?
it doesnt add up
every child feels the panic
on meeting this impossible old character for the 1st time
what are we supposed to learn from jehovah?
he sure doesnt take any responsibility for the mess he created
does he?
anyway
the rain is holding off for a while out there
its st valentines day 14 th of february
didnt this cat die a grisly death in some christian scenario?
now hes the saint of greeting cards (i just made me own!)
and roses (bought a bunch from ye olde corner shoppe)
shoppe owner to sk : theyre selling like hotcakes…
i normally charge 30 a bunch but for you 20…
today i’m judging a vegan bake-off in newtown
must remain hungry for that
the rain is threatening but not falling
leaving the world in an unsatisfied state
an expectation of fulfillment just hanging there
the humidity is hard to bear
everything is sticky and damp
at ten to nine in the morning
the fridge hums
the tinnitus rings
the clocks ticks
never tocks
the world feeling apparently still solid
they say we rush through space
our sun travels alongside unfixed
each and everyone of us pure stardust
as much as the trees on the stars
we have a right to be here

saturday morning rain

after a wild and tumultuous nightafter the last lightning has bolted across the purple skyand the thunder claps and exits quietlyand the men n women cease their ministrationswhen the kissing ends and the dreaming beginshands still touchinggoing where the other can never followwe sleep together but alone we dreamthe neon and the empathy still judder thru my systemin my dreams i soldier on through my mindbut whatever i do i never rememberwhen i wake upits saturday morning very quietgently oh so gently drizzlingthe odd car zings thru the wet streetsa cool rain has comethe city crouches beneath the cloudsdocile and tamedits hour gone at lastthe clubs close upthe spades are spentthe hearts are all brokenand the diamonds are pastethe cold light of the warmish daythe clocks all ticking in the silencethe hum of the fridgethe rustling of blinds n curtainsthis is my territory as much as the nights confusionsthe grim grey lightpale mirrorthe creeping cumulii listen to my ears ringing ontrying to tune into a station they can never getthose yesterdays when i wasnt mewho were you then?no i dont knowsomeone else somewhere elseluck ran outas it doeslife as they told you is briefwhat stands on either side but restand the cold morning drizzlethe small stones and pieces of brickholes in the mortar where lizards livethe tiny bits of glass and drifts of sandand weeds scraggly raggedy ugly skinny thingsstrangling the daylight for their fixemitting dull buds that flower dimlythings become unbearably stilli’m left here with my past n my futureon either side the deep gulf of unconsciousnesslit up by short dreamsin a series of lives

after a wild and tumultuous night
after the last lightning has bolted across the purple sky
and the thunder claps and exits quietly
and the men n women cease their ministrations
when the kissing ends and the dreaming begins
hands still touching
going where the other can never follow
we sleep together but alone we dream
the neon and the empathy still judder thru my system
in my dreams i soldier on through my mind
but whatever i do i never remember
when i wake up
its saturday morning very quiet
gently oh so gently drizzling
the odd car zings thru the wet streets
a cool rain has come
the city crouches beneath the clouds
docile and tamed
its hour gone at last
the clubs close up
the spades are spent
the hearts are all broken
and the diamonds are paste
the cold light of the warmish day
the clocks all ticking in the silence
the hum of the fridge
the rustling of blinds n curtains
this is my territory
as much as the nights confusions
the grim grey light
pale mirror
the creeping cumuli
i listen to my ears ringing on
trying to tune into a station they can never get
those yesterdays when i wasnt me
who were you then?
no i dont know
someone else somewhere else
luck ran out
as it does
life as they told you is brief
what stands on either side but rest
and the cold morning drizzle
the small stones and pieces of brick
holes in the mortar where lizards live
the tiny bits of glass and drifts of sand
and weeds scraggly raggedy ugly skinny things
strangling the daylight for their fix
emitting dull buds that flower dimly
things become unbearably still
i’m left here with my past n my future
on either side the deep gulf of unconsciousness
lit up by short dreams
in a series of lives