posted on January 6, 2006 at 10:44 pm

saturday morning
wake up early
my mothers study
where i am sleeping
everyone still asleep
i meditate
no contact
everyone still asleep
wander thru village
back down to lake
baby magpie screaming at its mother
on the lawn
she ignores it
goes on sucking big fat worms outta the ground
eventually the baby gets the picture
finds its own worm
message in my head
this is a metaphor for you, sk

i discover path around lake
sing a song to vishnu
but he’s not answering
i walk across little bridge
flies struggling in web
im hoping to meet someone
a magician…
a hermit
someone extraordinary
if only someone would walk down this path…
perhaps my father is waiting up ahead
in the tangle and swamp
in the marshy wetlands
he’s waiting for me
some sage advice
smelling of old spice
and benson and hedges
w/ his rhyming slang
and cockney thang
the sun breaks thru the clouds
burns all traces of ghosts away
occaisional jogger
or dog walker
i look very approachable
but no one stops to talk
no witch invites me in
to her mud and sticks hut
to learn the healing lore
to hear her twisted tales
to speak
to her familiar
keep on walking
pleasant feeling of loneliness
wish i had someone
to share this solitude
all my daughters asleep somewhere
all my friends
out there
leading their lives
i am here
in the woods

the last time i spoke w/ my dad
30 years ago
thats a long time between conversations
my olde manne
i feel like youre so near
i feel like youre waiting for me
i feel like we ARE
gonna meet again
i remember when you held my hand
when they stitched up my eye
you were dressed in a suit
and i thought you looked so smart

driving us thru a bushfire in 1961
i felt so safe cos you were there
lying on the back seat watching
those fucking flaming trees
fall down
i realise now
you didnt have a clue either
you were probably scared too
but you made us feel safe

i remember my first bass
we went to queanbeyan
i was nearly 16
the guy said
no ones playing the bass these days
its all rhythm guitar now…
i knew i had to remember that line
still makes me laugh

you rigged me up an amplifier
you made from an olde school p.a. system
then you had to listen
while i played 25 or 6 to 4
and over
and over

you let my bands practice
in the garage satday arvos
despite serious complaints
from surly neighbours
“you should come and stand in my toilet
and hear this racket”
said mrs mc carthy
no thanks
said my dad
and the whole band fuckin’ had a good laugh

i remember me first gig
i was so nervous
i kept me head down
i made a million mistakes
all the time a voice in my head saying
this is it
this is it
yer playing music
you great idiot
its finally happened
bullies from school
came to watch me play
i remained unpunched
hey this music thing is really workin out for me here
then i got kicked out of my band
they wanted to go more “caberet”
fuck em
they really were clowns
but jesus
getting kicked out of anything hurts
suddenly nothing to do at night
hang around the house
listening to t rex
and over
and over
my mother worries
that my bolan worship
could mean that her son
is batting for the other side
ha !
i was his fucking apprentice
i was absorbing all his tricks
i was turning his words over in my mouth
pretending they were mine
i was quotin’ him to gurlss
some were impressed
some said
“what are ya, kilbey?”
i was half in one world
canberra 1970, public servants, pubs, footy
and half in another
fauns, babes, rock, love, music
id trawl thru record shops for hours
even when i had no money
looking at the l.p. covers
trying to catch the eye of someone
sitting on an empty bus
back from kingston
where i’d just found
“a beard of stars”
now i was 2 thirds in bolans world
most the kids at school
didnt like it
hell they didnt like me either
i realised its good to be a minority
i zipped up my world
and i walked away
formed more bands
wrote songs like
mascara o hara
jet fin rock
zsa zsas place
igloo blues
“i got the igloo blues
cos they aint no room
for my harpoon”
we were glam
we were glitter
we were awful
i wore a blouse backwards
and enuff make up
to make a panda laugh
we hung around music shops
i was already trying to be iconoclastic
i made a 27 year olde guy actually cry
when i told ‘im he was already washed up
i was a pest
i was a big mouthed long haired skinny assed
glam rocker and i wanted some action
one day met p k
when we was double booked at church/rehearsal room
he had longer hair than me
he was 5 inches taller than me
one year younger than me
he could actually really play
the guitar
the drums
we formed uneasy alliance that day
which still holds even now
i still admire his wonderful playing
he still cant believe that i still dont
really have a clue
i ve known that guy over thirty fucking years people

hot summers
cold winters
artificial city
in middle of nowhere
lovely now
but brutal then
between 13 and 17
i probably got fuckin punched
almost every day at school
character buildin’ baby
“mum, i don’ wanna go to school, today…”
why not, son
“um err oooh, well, i feele kinda sick…”
youre going anyway, steven
(but mum, theyre gonna fucking punch my brains in
down there today
i cant take it
im a lover
not a fighter)
sorry son

i wonder what all my old bullies are doing today?
i wonder if they ever heard my records…?
hey alright unguarded moment…
i dislocated his shoulder….
hey alright…!

they kept me going thru the badde times
“i cant stop reheasing
cos i got to show
those bullies….!”

all gone
all in the past
the things that shaped me

now im an international blogging starr
it all seems silly
sitting here
on the pile o cash
ive made from blogging
here in malibu
and aspen
and monte carlo
and belgravia
and first olde rocker in space
as i orbit fuckin pluto
and as i enter the annals
of legend
where was i?
what was i saying?
thanks for your comments
you bring a tear to this olde rockers
cynical grey eye
i cant understand spanish
i wish i could
but i cant understand a thing
youre so lovely
i get the gist
thanks to all my regulars
i feel we got something going here
all of you
youre so spesh to me
you are
im gettin’ all sentimentle
thats all
i love you

41 Responses to “in a dark wood, wondering”

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