is it love that makes us rock?

childe,
know this
in the beginning there was nothing
nothing like it
the music had not yet formed itself into rock
in the long dark night of the 1950s
hideous schmaltzy monsters dominated the landscape
oozing foul doo-wop n corny dance routines
in the darkness the ancestors of rock raised their heads
and cried out in the wilderness
a new voice
a new cry
soon the ugly fifties monstrosities would crumble n wither
deep down in memphis elvis presley took shape
chuck berry was writing rocknroll
his little finger walkin' up n down the guitar
as the common era (1960s on) dawned
the corn n schmaltz seemed set to prevail
until the beatles
n then rolling stones
and bobby dylan i guess
and then the floodgates burst
and the who and all the rest
and lo rock was created for the people by the people
no tin pan alley cynical hit job
or advertising mans con-dream
rock was urgent wild unpredictable tender strange destructive
satanic holy loud peaceful violent
and its main voice was the electric guitar
and for the first time the possibilities
of amplification distortion echo reverberation
phasing flanging leslieing panning whammying
etc
for the first time man had an instrument which could bleed
for him
it could express rage
urgency
decay
panic
emptiness
it could be as sweet as the sweetest kiss
or blow yer fucking head off in squall of feedbacke
armed with our new instrument
aided n abetted by the new souped up drums n drummers
a more primitive approach to drums
bang out that beat like a savage
cos this music can get out there mister
let that bass guitar throb n push this thing along
and when we do get in a studio
lets see what that thing can do
lets experiment with this mess
hey maybe ya can turn a sows ear into a silk purse
a little reverb, a little strings, ride it a little there
you see
you can do anything in rock...
as long as its good that is
you can be whoever you wanna be too
if you dont wanna be who you are
it seemed like the people finally hadda voice
goodbye pleasantville n yer square bullshit
cos we got jimi hendrix n now anything is possible
when i hear pete townshend n ent n moony play underture
i feel like impossibility has been negated
this music appealing to something that other jive dont reach
ok ok
some good tunes in classical music
cmon theres some great stuff
but it dont fuckin' bleed for me, baybee
neither does it take me up there on mt olympus
when spaceship hawkwind lifts off
the guitar strings scraping, the sax squawking in dim 'verb
the oscillators falling through space in a hiss
as they part the etheric ions
the bass grimly pulsing, the synthesizer going up n up
well...
there is no other music that can or even wants to do this
its our music
its the peoples music
precious n quicksilver stuff
explosive n narcotic music
thats why us olde rockers keep on rocking
we're hooked on our own medicine
viva la rock, baybee!
is it love that makes us rock?
you can bet yer life it is!
and that,
*
thats for sure

F.U.Q : the time being *

*this anachronym remains ambiguous
even to me who am the only one and only one
it oscillates between
frequently unasked questions
foolish useless queries
and a mysterious phrase in hebrew
which could give unlimited power to he
that uttereth it........

FUQ : i have recently bought a number of time being products.
what do you recommend for maximum enjoyment of my tb range?
ANSA : the time being personally guarantees all tb products
when you have finished with tb simply rinse off
roll up and ready to re-use
those with tb nevets yeblick compatible interface should consult
the tb factory at 1 8000-ANATHEMA
before adjusting the implication mechanisms
model 13.9.54.sk can malfunktion
always turn off after use
dont let overheat
no ironing makeup microwave gossip

FUQ : can you explain the relativity between sk, nevets and
tb characters? my girlfriend and I are quite curious to see
how it all works....
ANTSA : its all quite simple really
see them as a trinity
nevets yeblik is the son
he is the mercurial, the maverick
the most human
the one who makes mistakes
the trickster,
the sacrifice in the wilderness of entertainment
the union and uniter
and then theres sk
hes the father
the creator
the ancient of days
an old man with a white beard
the serious side
the aloof detached locus
the prime fucking mover
the big daddy
and finally the time being himself or itself
the wholly spirit
the essence of all time beings
the essential emanations from but not including sk
om tat sat a mat
the time being is neither nor either or
if you can dig that subtlety...
the time being will exist forever in different forms
the time being is the continuum of time beings
including sk and nevets but not necessarily
the 3 are aspects of the one
steve kilbey
any apparent discontinuity
is perhaps merely the flux
as the various aspects recombine
each always present in some quantity
always a mixture of the 3
is it starting to make sense?
FUQ : i'm trying to contact nevets yeblik...
can you give me his contact details?
ANS: nevets yeblik is an imaginary character on a blogge.
are you crazy?
FUQ : I eat meat and i vote for the right.
I enjoy drinking beer and watching the football
with my friends Brad, Mike n Jeff.
I have a gas guzzler 4wheeldrive
a hairy chest with a leo pendant
and a key to the vip bathroom.
I pull down 400k a year
as a IT consultant in a fluorescent lit office
in the big end of town.
ive never heard of hawkwind.
despite all this i dont feel like
a "straight"......can you ask the trinity their opinions
please.....i wont be able to rest till
i hear what they have to say....
ANSTA :
nevets says: you "straight" bastard, you running dog capitalist
bastard , you yes-man, you cog in the machine, you...you...
oh shuttup
sk says : could you get me a job in that office,
i used to be good with computers....
time being says : i am you as he is me and we are us and
they are untogether....om sat a day man, i mean, ..
actually i dont think vishnu does like you....

FUQ : i wish my husband was more like the time being....
can you give me some simple hints as to encourage him
to be more like the lovely tb?
ANSA : madame, 1st of all ask yourself this
do i have time for my own time being?
could i satisfy his peculiar dietary needs?
could i regularly execise him and play with him?
if he gets hurt will i just chuck him aside like an olde rag?
if he needs me, will i be there 24 hours a day
with my cheque book open if he needs alone
will i agree with his every utterance and worship
unquestioningly even if i hear or see ludicrous things, which
quite frankly, might make me doubt his omnipotence?
if the answer to all this was yes we can pro-seed
with the hince.
1st of all
he'll want nut cutlets n soy bon bons ever nite
just after he finishes contemplating his navel
and a quick bit of pie-laertes
then quick light that sandalwould josh stick
and put on some eno
maybe music for sea ports
then i guess a jaeger/goji/redbull cocktail
(shaken AND stirred!)
a bit of tantra or tarantula
or tanto in stockholm
time beings enjoy being time beings
panda to your hero
shower him in rose petals
run his bath of asses milk
(donkeys or mules will do in a pinch)
nurse those vipers to his bosom
have his chariot decorated
unleash the kraken
and no eggplant cucumber or capsicum!
your prototimebeing is now ready for testing
have fun!!!
FUQ : i dont believe you can be bothered trying to squeeze
any more laughs outta this lame turkey.
ANSA : thats not a question
FUQ : ok, .....i dont believe you can be bothered trying to squeeze
any more laughs out of this lame turkey...do you?
ANSA : no

kamera obskura

daylife saver
vegbourne melan day
blue virgin starflite
space rocker afraid of the liquid air?
we now begin our inflight servitude
judy-free gods
a deselection of whines n light smacks
up n down riding the wayward breezes
a role for u-sir
perhapps a bockle of water
swipe at your credit carp
look the latest gnus
naughty korea with avuncular possibilities
gorge w/brush n saddem alladin sane
oily praises to rise
more wars n poors
less piece of pi
narstier barstdedts comin'
yawn pete yawn
unsettled contents shift
oh not millburn again
4 thymes once a month
gimme syd-nei
plain wheels down tar, mack
take me to veegan day on planet veega
shore of rain
i bet u now
rayne, rein, rain
ha ha ha
blame nevets
my shapely calves flex n the bull flows
my twelve dig n delve string
singe that songe olde bouy
that songe you rote about the skeye
w/starrs n white chocolate starrs
w/ the twinkly firm a mint
w/ the a minorbird cord
but the base is a sharp eff
that note bort me my bunny rabbit
if you no thatslang
d. cypher
at will
if thoust darest
herein lies
mi see krette
ardour n ardour to understand
izzit love?
that maykes us wrocke?
how many nevetses in a yeblik?
how many hours in a orange?
but paye clothes attention
dont missathing
its tyre in....eye-no
y botha?
not 4 mysaik
now
im outta thyme
easy baybee
soon
soon
soon
whatsit 2yah inny wei?
rong wei?
middleweigh?
high rode= saliva testin'
bust mee....o no?
crash nevets gone
hchcru mustfynde gnu nevetss....?
contest
but twinner nevar an ounce
nevets imp ostler
not reel
not jig
under stan?
ring ooo
too layte mayte....
their hear
woe no
NO!
NO!
NO!

my life in a stolen blogge

i was born one stormy september day
in england
a small island off continental europe
my mother
who co incidentally was english
had been warned by a soothsayer
"sooth, sooth" the sayer had said
my father whos name was dad was pacing the corridor
"hurry up with that bleatin' baby, joy" dad called from the hall
seeing my lateness was irritating dad
i decided to be born
a minute later i popped out
"hello, mother" i said a minute later
after the doctor had slapped me round
and i'd pretended to cry
"whats occurring?"
life in england
with my dad n my mother was ok
mick jagger was my baby sitter one day
he played me some chuck berry records
only recently available in england
"its all done with the little finger" he would mutter obliquely
as we proto-rocknrolled by micks tiny record player
i was 2 years olde by now
i'd written almost with you the year before
the xylophone part on el momento
was in fact conceived on my baby xylophone
"do ya think ya can get an english angle on it tho mick?"
i asked from my pram
mick was smoking some hash
and not being too careful about not blowing the smoke on me
he frowned proto-coquettishly
his evermoist lips forming an androgynous pout
"you cant always get what you want"
"you should use that one mick"
i said
leaving off on my bottle of formula briefly
"what?"' mick said puzzled
""you cant always get what you want"" i said
"nah" said mick
"since when ave you been a songwritin' expert....?"
and then
more fool me
i showed him a proto-version
of a song i was calling
"paint it blue"
about how everything in my nursery was painted blue
jaggers thirteen year old eyes lit up when i banged out
my rudimentary version on the xylophone
(this would account for my later marimba prowess)
i see a pink pram and i want it painted blue...i warbled
missing some of my teeth...
some of the consonants were hard to make...
i wonder if he could have mis heard me...?
that night as my mother paid him his 6pence
and rebooked him for next week
he asked her if she minded him bringing his friend along
"hes real good at baby-sittin'" mick said
perhaps with a slight smirk
it was hard to tell...my bonnett gave me blindspots in my vision
that week whilst waiting for micky n his friend to come back
i rolled other bits of random dialogue around in my head
i read something about lady jane seymour n it got me thinking
hmmm
my sweet lady jane....i crooned from my cot one evening at twilight
i set to work on the xylophone
i had a rattle to keep time
and set to work on some proto-elizabethan malarkey
the next day i heard my dad n mother arguing
over my dads piano playing which had taken a boogie woogie bent
whats wrong with mozart dear asked my mother
dad said
and i still hear the words hangin' in the air there
i wished you liked .....honky tonk,woman!
bang it hit me
i set to work
i tickle n stroked my xylophone
becoming one with my little wooden mallets
"i met a milksoaked wet nurse down in dartford
she tried to pick me up for a burp"
i could couldnt get it out of my head
all that week songs poured outta the universe to me
that sunday mick arrived with a scruffy little sod
with black hair n big ears
"ere, stevie" he said
after mother n dad had split
"play summa them songs on that xylophoney
for my mate keithy, willya?theresaniceboy!"
ah so naive
so naive
how was i to know...?
i was only a little over 2 years old
soon to migrate to australia forever...
"ok boys listen to this
its called" milk sugar"
a familiar riff emanated from the xylophone
da da dahdah
da da dahdah
da da da da
da da da da



xxx me

oh no! not another steve kilbey blogge!!!!

wow fiendss
its yer humble n groovy narrator
ive got a big fat baby on my lap
and shes making it hard to type....
shes feeling grumpy n doesnt want to be put down
so im putting up with her instead
shes given us a bit of a hard night....
im up to my eyeballs in work at the moment
marty n i are gonna do a little tour of aust together
in nov n dec
2 gigs in syd
1 in melby
1 in brissy
im launching meanjins "all tomorrows parties"
on 1st of nov in sappho books glebe
an excellent issue i myself kontrybuted to
but much wonderful recommended reading
all on "rock"
that wonderful music that saves lives n universes
including an amazing piece by robert forster
ive still gotta finish my isidore n m.kennedy collabs
the chrunch will be undertaking new recordings nov/dec
juggling a few different concepts....(!?)
the adorable n sultry twillies will arrive 12th dec all being well
i have a few commishes in the painting dept
i am being filmed today as a washed up acid rocker
(hey is that typecasting or what?why didnt they get hubba?)
the doodles continue to live long n prosper
the book of lyrics still on the horizon
tho g.nunn has another smaller project maybe coming to fruition
i continue to explore other forms of consciousness
whether naturally induced or artificially
i continue to extend with yoga
i continue to energise with chi gong
i continue to calm down with swimming
i continue to blather on about my boring holier-than-thou regimen
however
due to the long continual n faithfull practice of these things
i am
against all odds
getting better at everything i do
2 hours of swimming sauna walking yoga chi gong meditating
like if you tuned up n carwashed yer car everyday
plus veganism
and i'll be playing the fool at vegan day gig in melb this sunday
and the gb3 thing was great too
maybe gb3 n i could do something again sometime
november still looms like a maw
im gonna give ya my verdict real soon
i never anticipated people REALLY wanting this blogge to go on
but it takes up so much time.........
cos i try to...........
so im figuring it out
anyway
see ya 2morrah

themeless in gaza

there was a time....
child, do you remember?
silvered charm days
warm greying mornings
bedrooms symbiotic adhesion
time stand still for me
take out my deck
lay down the cards....
the magician
the hanged man
the empress
the four of wands
the fool
i have been cast up here
cast up in this bed and pillows
falling out of heaven
into this future
do you remember my names then?
they said
you are who we say you are!
i said
and you are who i think you are!
my fragile ship crashed
i was ejected into thin air
i hung in the bright day
i swung to n fro in the holy dawn
as her rosy fingers crept higher in the eastern sky
i sent winged words to god
to not let me die here
and that i would sacrifice gladly
if he would extend Himself
to save me....
how to describe what happened next....
words seem not to operate in some spheres
in other words
language can only describe a narrow band
on the spectrum of all possible things n events
remember then
how i told you
i was blown from that paper blue sky
i was drifted in cloud
cocooned in the gentle mist
damp n warm
my astral double partially detached
over chrome lakes swooping
screaming silently over shoals of electric eels
blasting back the razor sharp wind
as the aerials warped n bent the wing
burning up in freezing atmo-spheres
feverish dreaming rushing sleeping voyage
hurled violently thru purple patches
serenity in stillness
child, wake up
child, see my scar
my scar where i fell n fell n fell
oh child, i never want to fall ever again
oh i can still feel the falling
falling falling falling
faster faster
down
down
down
down
down
picking up speed
then....
i hit
everything shatters
i forget everything
stars implode
blackness turning into redness
suction
sucking me under
who am me now?
why was that....
how did this....
i was just...
a voice whispers in the nothing
you see i have saved you again....?
and then that is snatched away too
and youre lying here
in this bed
at dawn
with me
strange flowers n birds outside
strange sun in stranger sky
i think long n hard
who?
who?
who?
names pass thru my mind
i hear voices
one name n voice float to the top
kilbey! kilbey! kilbey!
it reasserts
strongly
and more strongly
this world resonates
this planet remembers everything
this earth will remind you
over n over
when you fall
again

hubba bridge and the manly fairies

few people know that from 1977 to 1979
i was the bass player n marimba player
for
hubba bridge n the manly fairies
australias greatest unsung space rock band/collective
hubba was the leader
now doubt about that
he was the singer and gong-player
i can see him now
a tie-dyed 3 button grandpa tshirt
hi-waisted anti-lope flares
scuffed beatleboots
his ho chi minh beard dipping n diving in the breezes
hubba came from a long line of hippies n freaks
his mum had studied under steiner
his dad had been in cuba with che g
his big sister had been a girlfriend of some big band
his grandma had dated al. crowley briefly
anyway
hubba didnt care that spacerock was passe by the late seventies
he'd hadda peak experience list'nin to space ritual
whilst on pot acid peyote dmt stp x y and z
man, hubba could do all the stage announcements too
how he used to make us laugh
bursting into the commune teepee at 4 in the morning
high on datura and screaming
beware of sonic attack!
hubba had assembled a wilde crew as his space cohorts
ian "negative' farquar played guitar n calliope
he also fucked around with these cut up tapes
splicing up
houston we have a problem
with
cows mooing
he said it was kinda atom heart mothery
on drums was gas
gas was a laughing gas freak
his dad was dentist
n gas had an endless supply
he had frizzy ginger hair down to his arse
and a girlfriend who dealt purple heads n angelfruit
boy he could lock into a space groove
and nail it for hours
sometimes high on the gas
gas would mix up his drums
and play the cymbal parts on the bass drum
and the bass on the snare etc etc
this sometimes threw the rest of us into a great confusion
but hubba used to say
no worries ....its just cosmic confusion
on keyboards was jerry mac hoota
who had a mellotron and a moog
and a thing that went
fffssshhhheeewwwzzzzzzzzsshheeeewwwwfffffffssss
put an echo on that
and it symbolised the rush of deep space
jerry hadda day job unfortunately
to pay off all his expensive equipment
and most time he missed gigs n rehearsals
hubba called him a capitilist bastard
which was kinda harsh
cos jerry was stacking cans of beans at woolworths
anyway eventually hubba took over payments on the thing
that went fffsshheewwsszzzffsseeeww
and we just turned it on at the start of the gig
and let it run all the way through
brian "salad" simmons was our woodwinds man
he was a terrible player
but after you put his flute n sax
through all those pedals
it didnt matter
salad was like the thing that went fffssshhheeewwwwwsssheeezzzz
he was constant bubbling burping babbling racket
giving the impression of intergalactic hyperdrive
hubba n salad had been mates for ages
hubba had a kid with salads sister narelle
the kid used ta come on stage and bang a tambourine
during
"the crossing of the synapse( part 2)"
we'd only played that one once
at a uni gig
the students had been promised a"new wave" act
the plastic pants
when the pants didnt turn up
hubba n the fairies were booked at the last moment
accidentally
the plastic pants were riding high in the charts
with their song
1 2 i hate you
and their album
the plastic pants wear you!
anyway those fucking students were angry
when the collective turned up in their kombi
you hippy bastards they called out at me n gas
as we struggled with hubbas gong up the stairs
hubba called me the killer
i was the youngest guy in the band
hubba bossed me round a fair bit
and he'd try out new psychedelic drugs he wasnt game to try(!?)
on me first
c'mon killer hed say
just take a little bit for hubba
one night i was playing on a combo
of sixty mescal worms, 3 bottles of nutmeg
and something hubba had cooked himself called party mash
and yes this was during my angelfruit addiction as well
hubba stalked over to me angrily as i laboured over my marimbas
killer you totally fucked up martian holiday!
hubba i dont even know where i am let alone play any instruments...!
wow is it that good ?asked hubba gleefully
the next gig everyone took the same combo
ah i think we'll change martian holiday and do andromeddan harpoon tonite
announced hubba casually as the drugcocktale took effect
negative wasnt happy
i need my double neck for the retro rockets part he grumbled
of course this was the gig at the uni
the kids were all drunk n speeding
and ready for a half hour of the pants
instead they got space rock opera
which lasted 3 hours 20 minutes
hubba mimicking weightlessness
by swimming around on the floor
the rest of us dressed in ww 1 aviator goggles
parachute suits, pyjamas, and wet suits
our long wild hair shaking in the zero gravity
of our repetive racket
my instruments are going haywire hubba intoned thru metallic echo
space fever we all hissed into our mikes
im a white light messiah screamed hubba
space fever we hissed back
i never should have married that bitch from pluto moaned hubba
space fever we hissed again
turn down the gravity hubba called out
space fever, space fever we whispered
salad picked up his bassoon which after going thru a wah wah
sounded like the pulsation of an impending implosion (said hubba)
needless, doubtless to say the new wavers at the uni were not impressed
the booker pulled the plug for the first time
if you guys dont do something punk or new wave its curtains he screamed
ok ok said hubba we gonna do our most new wave song
the thing that went fffsheeeewssshhhfffeeewsss came back on
and hubba softly pounded his gong
a beer can hit me in the shoulder
hippy dribble shrieked an incensed mohawk n safety pinned punkette
bullshit roared the pvc n floppy fringed new wave students
hubbas cockroach earrings jiggled as he moved
people were throwing things
and jumping up on stage
i saw hubba go down from the side of the stage
while the punkette beat me over n over with my marimbas
after that it all went black
when i woke up back in the teepee
hubba was nursing a black eye and a mournful expression
the thing that went ffsshewwwssshhheeffzzees got busted
and i still owe a thousand dollars on the repayments he said
a light was going off in my head
i realised hubba and his band were going nowhere fast
i began secret rehearsals with a new wave band i was forming
stiff young hounds we were called
well i guess the rest is history
the hounds became sausage
we changed our name to the satin oddysey
and then mx345
before finally settling on the chrunch
at our most triumphant gig at the leather martini, 1981
in adelaide
guess who supported us
yep
hubba n the fairies
killer you little fuckin traitor hubba fumed
as our paisley n mascara crowd sat sullenly thru hubbas set
but when they did martian holiday
i jumped up n got on the marimbas
just like olde times grinned hubba
i guess old habits die hard

CELEBRITY POX.com.org

wow britneys hot new body
(shes become a mortician)
jen n vince mad as hell over those rumours
(ooohhh! watch out!)
has madonna gone too far ?
(maybe......!?)
plus how brooke got back in shape
(had her head amputated)
in 2 minutes youll have real healthy looking skin
(hey ms gullible , they talkin to you!)
jennifer garner walks down the aisle
(but she finally found the baked beans)
hughjackman answers questions from his fans
(no,yes,no,no,yes,yes,yes)
george clooneys great celeb roast
(i just put an apple in their mouths n cook em slowly!)
brad n angelina in airport row
(brad n angelina phelps, that is, from hobart)
with love from hilary duff...a new fragrance
(smells a bit duff actually)
heidi klumb n seal in penguin tragedy shock
courteny cox?
(not lately, have you?)
no way....danni minogue out pissed n partying?
no i dont believe it........!
wrinkle decrease collagen filler
wrinkle reducing treatment
collagen biospheres expanding to fill in yer disgusting OLD WRINKLES
quickly you hag
buy this product and be...
FOREVER YOUNG!!
or be damned with those wrinkles
you teenage bag!!!!
cathy zeta jones woke up n felt old age creeping up on her..
oh sorry it was michael dogless....
pete doherty n kate moss off drugs?
like fuck!
kevin federline.....celebrates new son asparagus spears
bono launches charity gala event/festival workshop....
christian millioinaires eye of a needle club
paris busted with pot!
whatta waste ...good pot on that braine!
keanu n lindsay dating? do you give a fig?
posh n becks......next week...bosh n pecks
love
me

i'm rich, i'm famous, ive got a filmstar wife and....i need a drink

poor olde our nicole
she coulda married anyone
she coulda married prince norbert of macedonia
or johnny idiot of the jets
or lion woods the golpher
or brad arm-pitt
or even
me......
but no
she hadda go n hitchup with keethy urbane
a cognac n western singer
who grew up in orstralia
but strangely developed a nashville twang at age 9
and learnt to write those great country numbers
like" my dog divorced my truckstop man"
and "honey, i fucked the tractor"
and keethy was rollin in the moolah
cos of his grate originality
and he went to nashville
they couldnt even tell the difference
and he sold so many records
he had a ranch next door to the dicksy chicks
n willy nelson n dolly part-em
an he played at the gran' ol oprey
more often than anybody.
and why oh why our nicole?
who introduced our nicole to keethy urbane?
well legend has it it was chopper read at an ice party in surry hills
but i reckon it was at the fishnchip shop here in bloody bondi
you know
the one where terry stamp tries to avoid us stalkers
keethy was walkin back from the nirvana beach liquor shop
with a bottle or three of cognac under his arm
when he spotted our nic having her sav battered
n a deep fried mars bar
urbane stumbled in
all bow legged from horse riding n roundin up the sheep
our nic wanted to smile
(she couldnt of course)
she was very lonely after that billionaire polo player proved to be shallow
and it hadnt worked out with whatsisname
who she thought she would always love
and there she was
slightly stiff n sad looking
in the bondi chip shop
i'll have a deeply fried husband too she said to no-one in particular
keethy wrote a beautiful new song too
called hey billy, shes my kid,man
their ceremony was a top secret affair
except for celebrity pox magazine
who got exclusive rights to the whole shebang
seems a little brandy in the wedding cakey sent urbane off
and last week he checked into a bottleshop in utah
wearing only sunglasses n his akubra hat
nicole was so shocked
she wanted to frown but she couldnt
gee why am i always the unlucky one?
i shoulda listened to my father doctor horatio kiddyman
he said our nicole you should marry steve kilbey
one thing he dont have is a drinkin' problem
but did she listen.....?
nope
and keethy
im sorry
you cant do that cover of unda the milky whey
um...
my parole officer thinks it'd be bad for me to be associated with ya..
sorry guys
uh...guess i wont be seein ya backstage at the metro our nicole
and keethy
if ya whiteknucklin it in rehab
just have a fuckin' jagermeister
DONT WORRY, ITS HERBAL!

little red blogging hood

once a ponna time
there lived a lovely little blogg called
bloggsy
one day his mother said take this space cake to granny blogg
who lives in yonder concrete jungle
but dont stop n talk to the wolves
well bloggsy never listened , did he?
as soon as he found the first wolf he stopped and talked to it
course the wolf didnt say much at first....
mmm he wanted to gobble down bloggsys space cake
there were not only wolves but hyaenas n goats
and everyone leered n pawed little bloggsy
someone nibbled at his archives
another dribbled n drooled on his sitemeter
some of the animals fondled his adjectival clauses
and bloggsy was very scared
he met some "straights" in a dark alley
"what have we here boys? a young blogge....? "said the biggest "straight"
bloggsy made a dash for it
scattering red herrings behind him as he ran
the "straights" stopped to gather them
and our brave little blogge got away jus' fine
he could still hear them baying in the distance
as he panted down the main road
a po-liceman stopped him
"where are you off to, young blogge?"
he asked
"and whats this cakey you got here?"
the po-liceman snuffled at the cake with his snoutish whiskers
"and just who might your grandmother be?"
bloggsy didnae wanna get his granny busted
he snatched the cake from the po-liceman
and stuffed it down his throat in no time flat
suddenly nevets yeblik appeared
dressed up as sk
only playing me instead
and his muse was there
and the doodles
and the baby
then granny appeared
n said
wheres my effing cake, well?
and everyone laughed
cos bloggsy was sitting in a corner
listening to dark side of the moon
and looking at his hands
daddy blogge appeared
and all the littlies cheered
when he pulled out his guitar
and sang them a happy blogging song
one by popul vuh
and one by one
all the commenters
appeared
in a long line
of hundreds n hundreds
to shake little bloggys hand
bloggy, this is eek
bloggy, this is veleska
bloggy this is b bon
bloggy this is john garratt, be nice to him....
etc etc etc
all down the line
bloggy, this is anonymouse
bloggy this anonymouse too
etc etc etc
and then granny
asked for a second time
"i said wheres my effing cake you lot?!"
and we all laughed all over again
and aslan appeared
and said
"let granny have her effing cake then"
and we all cheered
and granny found a great big spacecake in her hand
and aslan winked at us n said
"childe, that cakes gonna blow the old bints knickers off!"
and then i noticed someone not laughing or having a good time
off by himself
was he faun or a saytyr?
no the thing said
i am steve kilbeys integrity and this blog is the last straw
then aslan gave a mighty roar and said
"steve kilbeys integrity come forward"
and it did
slowly before aslans majestic gaze
and everyone cheered n whistled
and one of the giants grumbled
"ere, whats all this then?"
and then everybody laughed again n went shush shush
aslans about to speak
and aslan looked at steve kilbeys integrity
and there was a big tear in his eye
and he said
"speak childe, what is it your heart desires"
the thing spoke up
"money, aslan...n plenty of it if your majesty pleases"
and we all looked up in amazement
a big fat dirty record exec appeared and said
behold, the royalties that were wrongly withheld
and the sky was suddenly grreen with thousand dollar bills
which floated gently to earth gracefully
steve kilbeys integrity was sent back to its own boring world
clutching deleriously at all the cash it could carry
"the poor thing" said aslan
"it could never live here in banarnia"
the little blogge became the happiest blogge ever
wow he said
thats so cool
and aslan said
"did any of you other cats read that pot helps against alzheimers?'
really i said..,.where did you read that?
"i forgot " said the lion
and everyone laughed n laughed n laughed

awe or oar or ore

deep in space where disconnexion began
deep in soft space
luxurious space
where the lighted lands travel
deep in a unique place
under a star
a long dark shadow cast from a future bright
except he that might see it
just might....
vague architechture has infested in the city
moss obelisk ...a green needle
weed men rolling in clover
the pendulum ceases to swing
time being stands still
the birds start singing for the time being
and for the time being its raining
grey afternoon by the cold sea
glad you have a warm space to inhabit
safely inside my fifty veneers
i crouch at the bottom in a baal -boy suit
at the bottom of the barrel
we find hope
music is everywhere
i suddenly realise it doesnt feel like saturday!
saturdays usually mah fave day but todays lifeless n listless
for the time being the doors are open
you know which doors i mean little sweetie
the doors
and you stumble thru theze doors as naive as can be
never knowing anything
at least music has prepared you for some of this
sooner or later you will pass by here
a meandering river wandering across time
black basalt rock protruding thru streams
why do you suppose the amphibs are all dying?
reeds choking the lakes
red organisms fuck resovoir
human beings dump toxic ash in pristine wonderland
i mean, why not?
what good is a pristine wonderland if not for burying barrels
of nuclear sludge??
the future has arrived
and its fast n greedy n impatient
just like it always is
easy to talk, isnt it?
forlorn birdies fight thru the air
the tress are tossed about
my eyes begin to ache in this cold electric light
uh oh!
it must be time to split
sk

in melbourne tonight

i am in melbourne
staying at the littlelord of misrules cozy place
it s very melbournian weather cold n overcast
looking out into a little back garden
tonite i play with gb3 at spanish club
a one off
it was good at rehearsal last nite
should be tonite too
see you there
me

muse mews

nevets wake up
but muse its 5.30 in the morning
nevets come n write a blogge
but muse its so early.......
but nevets when i call you cannot refuse
but muse...
that is your honour and your doom
ok muse, im getting up
put on your blue dressing gown nevets
ok ok
now meditate
of course
breath in hold for 10
keep in for 10
breathe out for 10
nevets that was a sleepy meditation
to tell you the truth i just wanna go back to bed
come nevets, smoke the herb
but muse its just gone 6 in the morning and..
will you fucking shutup n smoke the herb...?
ok ok (you see now the muse forces it on me)
now put on some ambient space drone
ok ok um pete namlook n tetsu inoue...
good now have a cuppa green tea with m. honey
(sound of kettle boiling, honey being spooned from a jar)
go and have a look at last nites painting
oh thats.......interesting
not bad nevets considering how you fell asleep at the eisel
i guess it aint too bad muse
youre no picasso nevets.....but who is...?
am i any good at painting muse?
ok for a beginner i suppose......
oh god, daughter evies up...
you think your the only one got muses waking em up nevets?
(eve starts drawing in a book)
now turn on thy lapptopp n create!
hang about muse, it aint that easy....
do you feel the pressure everyday nevets?
yeah this blogge takin' a toll on my time n creativity, muse
but nevets you were born to blog.....
ok ok yeah yeah cmon n help me then
what do you want to write about?
christ, muse i thought you were gonna tell me...
ok nevets lets think of something together
yeah ok...something about the early daze?
thats good and some free association...
how about a drop of the stream of consciousness...
yes yes and some hipster slang and smug in-references
and a pinch of only-half-joking bragga-rama
ok plus some silly spellings
good good...what about an anecdote from bully high?
some more about baby bumper...they like that, the ladies anyway...
i reckon some sci-fi stuff....
or another sk reinterpretation...?
moral stories "my drug hell" , "how i licked the big H"....
inside glimpses of the inner workings of the the chrunch
hippy baloney n dissing the" straights".....
poetic flights o'fancy with arcane adjectives....ha!
putting baybee at end of a sentence...
pro-marijuana propaganda
anti-gun/war/politician diatribes
criticising your critics, i see some silly bint gave us a badde reevu...
lambasting meat eaters / trying to stop the horror of skyscraper carnivores
praising the heroes...houdini, rimbaud,homer, shakespeare etc
and favourably comparing yerself with them....ha!
abstracted fragments
detached transmissions
automatic responses
drug-addled bullshit! yes!
yes! and stoned rambles
a load of old space rock opera tripe!
cosmic toffee on a galactic scale
meanlingless codswallop dressed up as sage advice....
some humour, i guess
some tragedy too......for balance
mystery?
honesty!
you wanna be candid?
just tell the truth...
how ever you see it
dont talk down to em
dont grovel to em neither
treat em like friends
treat em like youre happy they read this thing
treat em with a bit of distance
and a bit of love
that should do
ok
lets begin
we're outta time
good bye from me
goodbye from me

perfect mess

over stimulation
tiredness
cloudy sultry morning
sydney reluctantly gets out of bed
all the deals to be done
and the alliances made n broken
the cheapshots n matesrates
all the "she'll be rights!" n no worries
the bonuses the quotas the downsizing
all those drugs to be delivered picked up n consumed
all the brothels n soup cafes
all the boozy lunches n wink winks
all the children in the schools
all the poor wretches in hospital
all the workers in steelworks n quarry
all the senior cits n bowling n bingo
all the lovers, fleeting meeting
the affairs the cheating the alimony to be paid
buildings to go up
buildings to come down
cars to fix
cars to steal
cars to get back
deposits n withdrawals
the surfers n skaters
the flower sellers n kiosk owners
the unfortunates in wheelchairs
the sick n infirm
the geniuses n the morons
hello goodbyes
one way
no turn
this time
next week
harbour views
grim suburbs
millionaires n strugglers
witches n wardrobes
used car salesmen n greasy music biz types
washed up yesterdays
hotshot tomorrows
cab drivers spouting philosophy
babies in kindy
parking inspectors swoop for the kill
the unseen spiders n lizards n bats
the bugs n the weeds revving up now its spring
the postman n their packages
the omissions n stains
the blocked drains
roadwork
charitywalk
drivingtest
finalexam
birth
wedding
funeral

sydney
its gonna be another big day

can ya see a panacea?

cloudy cloudy morning, fiendss
up early meditating
today is scarlets 1st birthday
aurora is up nice n early
asking if scarlet can open her one present....now!?
yesterday morning a madman drove into the driveway
he screamed abuse at me
he was livid and high or jonesing from some evil drug
dont fucking look at me he screaming
im gonna kill you he screaming
nk comes out whats going on
uh honey theres a crack crazed lunatic in the driveway
screaming out blue murder....
lets just go in the house, ok?
the madman and his moll
scream down the drive into the back of the house
the lunatic jumps out
totters around awkwardly
like a man just learning to walk
then he pees all over the garbage bins
hes screaming at the woman all the time
she jumps out horror of horrors
dressed only in a grimy white towel
squats down n has a piss as well
i ring up the cops
get the cars number says copper
nk runs out n notes down numberplate
lunatic furious by now to point of comedic saturation
john cleese could have learned a thing or 2..
loony screams hes gonna come back n kill my missus now
sheesh! for takin' down his numberplate...?
what does he do to the people he really hates?
then he throttles his car down the narrow street
in a blaze of foul blue smoke n buggered mufflersound
the whole episode took maybe 5 minutes
from woe to go
fucking ruined my entire day!
all day everytime i saw a maroon sedan
i got all jumpy
i cant get the sight of this characters ugly screaming head
out of my sensitive mind
anyway
im trying to reorient my bloggs back to early morning again
which is why this came so hot on heels of last
be nice to have a sauna today anyway....its that kinda weather,heather
scarlet wasnt very interested in opening her gift
everybody else liked her new dresses
but scarlet aint particularly fussed
one way or the other
shes rolling around and clapping her hands
i think she looks a little like a young liz taylor
(i mean, very young!)
she looks very english thats for sure
shes pretty nice too
for a baby that is
and now baby, its high time
we were gone
anyway
to the man in the maroon sedan
n the girl in the towel
n all the other crazy n loaded idiots
to the boys in the kremlin n pentagon
to the guys who cut down the forests
and the oilslick captains
seal-clubbers
dolphin-killers
stoned tank drivers listnin to megadeth
bent cops
crooked politicians
wife beaters
etc etc
thanks guys
you really made my day!
love
yeb-lick!

glyph

resolutely charting a no-mans land
something hazza holdon me
small things go wrong
a washer missing from an axle
an overwatered luxuriant
a thirsty morning
popul vuh as my soundtrack
and systems of romance
i do yoga under the menacing grey sky
i slip into some poses like into the arms of a lover
others still perplex me
make me feel weird
needless to say these are the ones i should do most
yoga=union=yoke
my body listens to my mind
my mind listens to my soul
my soul listens to god
the ancient rishis grokked the whole shebang
thousands of years before jehovah was glimmer
in the judean eye
these rishis
they sussed it
all is vibration
dont eat meat
e=mc2
love is all is love
almost anything is possible
they invented a series of poses amongst many otherthings
to get space into yer body
to rejuvenate n refresh
most of all
they awaken you
to something
i dunno
whatever it is you were looking for
yoga has it
you gotta persevere
but you will get perserverance
you gotta be patient
yet you will receive much more patience still
what are ya waiting for?
or suit yerself.......
its a big commitment
an hour a day
you coulda been havin' a nap....
or readin' the badnewspaper
or la rag gossippe
the proof is in the pudding
anyway
today is cold
more autumn than spring
more fall than rise
i feel jittery, a little restless
typing is fucking up my arm n wrist more n more
this is almost unbearable now
yet i can play bass for hours....
my ears ring a ding a ling
im speaking at a magazine launch soon too
im overcommitted to my crown chakra
im straddling the 3 worlds like a colossus
but ive slipped between the cracks again as well
some people say
nevets i cant believe how old you look
others say
have you discovered the fountain of youth?
my face sends mixed message
with its wrinkles and glowing smooth skin
there are baby gold hairs tangling with the white ones
in my beard...
my old old eyes
to some the very epicentre of compassion
to others a blank supercilious gaze
to some my voice soothes
it bores other people to tears
to some my words are the hippy dribble
of a doped up olde ratbagge
still others considerate it poetry
most people couldnt care less
but there are a few
who exist in gentle symbiotic flow with me
the people who spend their hard earned dough
on my stuff
it is an honour to be in this arrangement
i am committed to improvement
ultc nearly 2 years old now
i/we so much better now
2 more years of chi gong n yoga n swimming
2 more years of pot n dreaming/scheming
you see im not good at many things
its true
im pretty useless
but the things i like
i like to improve at
now this music thing....
what the fuck is music?
i still cant answer that
but its something magic
cos it has the power to invisibly change things
like in melby on saturday
it does something!
ha!
everyone reading this blogge loves music, dont they?
man aint it a given?
my dad said never get a wife who dont like music...
wow thats good advice
and i'll say the same to you women
if youre man aint got love for music
then have no truck...
or whatever
see if i care if ya marry a tone deaf turkey.....!
you'll be playing him/her some esoteric track
with tears in yer eyes as you explain the brilliance of the lyric
and making small passing comments on the vibrato guitar
and the exquisite old-time reverb on the snare
and he/she will say
i think it sucks..
ha ha
dont come runnin' to me then
writing dear sk letters
dear sk
my husband hates you
what should i do
and i'll write back
poison him!
dear sk
my wife hates you
what should i do?
buy her one of my self portraits for yer weddy anniversary
that'll sort her out, mate...
so this music thing..
howcome y'all here realise
i should be the # 1 on all the charts
yet the rest o the philistinic whirled
continues to blissfully ignore me!
why does the stuff you love leave em so cold?
music
its a great divider aint it?
i cant tolerate any thing downright 'orrible
for anybodies sake
much to elli n minnas chagrin
its like good builder seeing shoddy built house
it offends me to point of nausea
in music i am a supertaster
the stuff like ambient space music
i drink it down like ambrosia
but rap, pop, boy, c+w,tripe, maudlin sop
corny, novelty, 1950s, 1980s, obvious, amateurish,
over-earnest, dumb, heavy, satanic, screaming
drippy, girly,manufactured music makes me sick!
so be careful!
it could hurt me hearing anything like that!
i would immediately have to aurally inject
large amounts of oophoi n eno
and that can be over sedating
n driving heavy machinery=taboo
please dont tell me you like toto
or maroon 5
or skid row
or pat boone
or play that funky music white boy
or silence by john cage (yeah right, bon bon!)
i guess im narrowing down
im focussing n refocussing
i have no need for the detritus on the periphery
fuck the 80s revival
it was bad then n its sad now
jesus gimme a break!
come back men without hats too
if ya like
not me
im ultra discerning
ive just about discerned my self off the map
so little stuff i like
so much i disdain to hear..
but the ones i do like...
ah......i cherish those...
the space
the poignant
the unusual
the arcane
the strange
the weird
the provacative
the mellifluous
the easy
the difficult
the good stuff
amen!
a toast to the good stuff!
good stuff i adore thee
io ao io io

living space

its over
the tour
the guitars go back in their cases
the roadies get other gigs
the audiences melt back into everyman
somwhere the music resonates inaudibly on forever
receding into silence
the hotel rooms are cleaned
the flights safely land
the rental cars are garaged
thank you if you came
thank you also to the following from whom i
have received cds etc
chris k, ambnt king (19 cds!!!)
roger k, from norge
andy l, from worcester for optical disks
w. w. xin from sanfran for ichor transfusion
mr john c from austin...thank you, kind sir
good lord
im sitting here with so much stuff
stuff to read n listen to n look at
god, where will i find the time
well i know yer waiting for a word on the shows
at the enmore we snatched defeat from the jaws of victory
in melbourne we were nearly as good as brizzy
thats it really
thats all i know
the future?
already in the works
stuff here n there
im playing again friday in mal-born
with gb3
guest singing
check it out in yer gig guide
then vegan day solo appearance
then various doings
stick around fiendss
who knows....?
maybe something interesting will happen....
or what?
e + a = 7
svk=1 (17/10)
sk=*
sk not=$
where is sk @?
stay tuned
or be damned!
kilbey

twilight of the atheists

"god aint jive
i can feel his love..."
ian hunter wrote that
is it that simple?
you say that word god
you gotta thousand people screaming this n that
get it straight cats
god aint religion
just like i aint my reviews
or interviews
i have arrived with god
common sense has prevailed
i have never observed things to just be
especially beautiful poignant things
spread over skies or years
or tiny inticate almost invisible things
all perfect tiny machines
there is a perceptible continuity of thought in motion
i have felt god fill me up
god inspires me
i dont even care if it IS all make believe
cos its working for me pretty well
and certain things only between god n myself
that just dont go into words
but i'm happy to discuss it
im open to be dissuaded from my naivete
by your convincing arguments
and i'd rather this than
most other things
i made a tiny contact
and it was wonderful
all the things i pursue have led me there
by the side of flowing rivers
in the dry desert
onstage n inprivate
behind closed doors
standing in a crowd
pages n pages
book by book
fad over fad
song into song
oh yes mister i agree with you on one thing tho
god is not easy to find, nor at your beck n call
just like learning a language
or an instrument
you need some subtle attunements
theres a lotta background noise drowning out the earth
why should god battle that racket
just to point out to you the bleedin' obvious?
god also doesnt need an olde washed up hippyrocker
proseltyzing on his behalf , i guess
and my right hands lockin' up
from too much typing
tonite
tonite
the enmore here in sydney
2morrow the national mal-borne
2 more nights to rock
before age wearies me
and yonder axe is laid down
for the final curtain call
and the last line is sung
and the last guy
to walk out
of the last show
is on the last bus home
and as he climbs into bed
at the last minute
his wife wakes n says
"why, gary, youre all a'tremble, m'dear"
and he says
"debbie, its the end of an era"
and the last star
of the evening
discreetly
fades

time being vs the obvious

can you believe all of this?
system within system within system
nervous system
endocrine system
arterial system
veinous system
electrical system
water system
flesh system
skin system
air system
we are all of these
we are semi-angel
with free will
earthbound
revolving around a sun
itself revolving and taking its system with it
and all held aloft
all held apart
invisible forces regulating everything
because a tiny tilt
or minute raise of temp
will fuck this delicate machine right up
now people will go to any extent
to deny god
they will blame religion
they will blame the inquisition
they will blame the crusades n the jihads
they will blame the witch trials n northern ireland
they will blame invisibility itself
"why cant we see him, then?"
they will sit in a botanical garden
asking why god never sends a sign
when all around
his loveletters bloom n sway in yon wind
when i read a poem
inevitably i think of the poet
when i hear a song
inevitably i think of the singer
when i see a creature
naturally i think of the creator
its spring in this hemisphere
creation is explosive
stuff just breaks through
all the sidewalks n pavements
tiny weeds breakthru
(what is a weed?
merely a flower whos virtue has not yet been discovered)
flying ants appear
males who will fly n mate with the queen
(fly united, boys!)
busy little birds pecking n gossiping everywhere
the triumphant sounds of popul vuh emanate from my kitchen
god
why not reveal yourself this very day?
well
aint that like having an ant-farm or fishtank
and stickin' yer fucking fingers in there all the time
this thing runs on automatic
vishnu dreams universes like ours up every tiny second
they drift out and on
doing what they will
this is all vishnus dream
out of nothing this was all created
back to nothing it will all return
all the great scientists eventually
if not immediately
realise all their knowledge
has been dwarfed by the unknowable
and from a point of extreme humility
pay homage to a creator
because there are some strange things about humanity
we crave the obvious
we get/let the absolutely worst people run the show
we fall for war over n over n over
we think we are disconnected
we try to be happy in midst of others miseries
we dont think its gonna come back on us
we fail to constantly appreciate n rejoice
count your blessings!
go on
take a minute or 3
i'll wait here listening to my popul vuh
while you have time to think of some ways
in which you are blessed
having a hard time there, baybee?
gotta roof over yer head?
food on the table tonight?
water to drink?
it was not always so
how many people will today die of thirst?
oh yeah
but we want popularity
we want slim-ness n beauty n youth
n holidays in st tropez
n beemer suv hummers with ipod jack n dvd
n new lap top w/ witchburner
n a house with rococco curtains
n statues of the seven dwarves
we want giant food choppers as advertised on tv
we want a credit card with outer limits
we want our parrots on higher perches
we want to lay-bye tomorrow
we want to fly to the bloody moon
who cares about food n water n shelter?
where is god?
why doesnt he immediately appear when i ask this question?
here i am nevets
oh here i am in nth bondi
you see that indefinably blue sky
and them beautiful trees
and you see all the creatures
and you smell the marine air
and you see yer children still sleeping...
yes i see all that...
but , well, its just that....somehow..
i always want just a tiny bit more than i get
god i want more proof of you than those things
god the stars n the sun n the sky n the ocean
and all the mysterious things they contain
are not enough proof for me
you see i had a western education
i went to lyneham high school
we learnt loadsa useful things there
and now i think im pretty smart
cos they told me that i evolved from a proconsul
and we did some things with a dead frog n a battery
n we checked out photosynthesis
and they measured my i q
and they said youre a genius
why dont you do better in school?
and all us kids there felt pretty smug
that god was just some old vestige
like mans vestigal tail
left over from when we stopped being chimps
and we learnt to smoke cigarettes n drink beer
and god seemed like some primitive superstition
and jesus, most of that old testament bullshit is exactly that
and somehow we precluded the concept
that our god was a cool artist
a dreamer, a hedonist, a renaissance man
even if you cant dig the enormity of it all
(dude, space is fucking infinite!!)
even if you cant dig the intricacy of the mechanism
the systems within systems within systems
all ticking along quite nicely thank you
surely you can dig it
as an act of creation
as art
look at those flowers
they are art
look at the sky
its art
listen to the waves
listen to creatures
listen to a forest
its all music
block your ears and hear music within
the music of the spheres
put your ear to a seashell
thats my ocean crashing in there
see the periwinkles n anemones in rockpools
underwater pointillism
god never created the fuming urban hell
the dark satanic mills n boon
the jails n gaols
the stock exchange n its crashes
the endless but soon to be stilled traffic
the red tape n paperwork
god gave you freedom to act
god gave you potential to be almost anything
god gave you as many chances as you need to sort it out
god gave rock n roll to ya
put it in the heart of everyone
ha!
i love you
sk

was there ever talk of love?

the water in the inlet was cold
peering down thru cloudy depths
fish-birds
flying/swimming
oceanographer in space
in my minds eye and i
against the rip i struggle
i need new language
i have exhausted all these words
i have excavated my imagination
to the point of collapse
i go up n down with the tides
the moon pulls my head in to alignment
bang bang bang
the numbers come up
red earth meets white heaven
water, prana, chi, fluid, liquid,ether,space
i pass thru all these
in the atmosphere of planets
in the gaps between synapses
everywhere i heard music
the great orbs call to each other
the stars n suns sing
fiery music burns up
the coldness n warmth duet together
life n death doing an old sonny n cher number
the opposites must be reconciled
whatever that means
i accept that opposites must be reconciled
just like
you always become what you hate
did you really think humanity was the be-all n the end-all
of all-there-is?
i see bush n his pals as dirty little boys
poking round in a filthy puddle
on the outskirts of an enchanted forest
whatta waste
sucha shayme
money
the universal language
maybe in this universe, mister
but maybe not all
many things money still can not buy
many things fire still can not burn
somethings require dedication
perseverence
i hated that word once
because i knew it was the truth
but my laziness called out for the easy way
path of least assistance
i did not think that i should have to persevere
i discovered all temporary oblivion
was accompanied by an awful nameless anxiety
oblivion anxiety
anxiety oblivion
relativity
but
how do you experience oblivion?
cos...
yer oblivious!
and if yer anxious that ya gonna get anxious
well, whats all that about?
what
self perpetuating anxiety?
shorter n shorter oblivions
weaker oblivions
oblivions tinged with angst
oblivions with anxiety breaking on thru
cheaper oblivions
more obvious oblivions
oblivions in the key of e minor
but oblivion can only be defined by nonoblivion
that bookends it
endless oblivion holds no attraction for me
i want temporary
not too long
not too short
the sooner the better
earlier rather than later
dead men.....do they know theyre dead?

yesterday we saw for 1st time
scarlets walk
imagine if all of toris songs come true?
love
sk

an alien mirror

time being redoubled
growing, glowing thru me
glass eyes
sunburnt hands
the secret identifying marks
increased pleasure
improved design
unravelling mystery
internal dialogue
time being captures heart chakra
time being storms the seat of the soul
simple algebraic function
complex ulterior motive
what do words mean?
what is the truth?
what is untruth?
on what level are you reading me?
evening becomes elektra
morning becomes miranda
aurora is day
eve is night
scarlet is the colour of my mind
daughters of the revolution
children in time being grown
is that why the time (being) has come at last ?
mother natures silver seed to a new home but no son
wise women
women who will heal
witches
enchantresses
sorceress
midwives
mimi too
ones who may weild power
time being favours neither man nor woman
both strong
both weak
both has weakness in the other
woman, are you more attuned?
woman, can you stand more pain than man?
woman, can you carry on alone?
let women be women
let the men be men
let them conceive wondrous children
let the children be children
let the beasts go free
their misery is our misery
you may be too fucked up to realise that
but you can bet your life on it
man love thy woman
woman love thy man
human love the beasts
angel love the humans
god love everything
god is everything
everything therefore may be god
dont ever ever ever eat meat
you have no idea
the more you eat
the less you feel deleterious effects
you are what you eat
you are what you think
eat wholesome food fit for a human
think marvellous thoughts fit for a poet
dream exquisite dreams in colour
extend
become
step into your shoes
be a real man
be a real woman
be a real childe
i know its hard for you
especially some
i stumbled for 10 years in narcotic chains
of my own making
and of my own undoing
it was a crucible i tell you
i had to pull off that olde flesh
a time being was inside
his time in the cocoon was over
he needed to brake free
the half-life was over
the time being says this
avoid these things
microwave
mobile phones
bullets
cities
tobacco
shouting
anger
jealousy
gluttony
laziness
politicians
fluorescent lights
television
aeroplanes
unclean food
regrets
bad energy
ugly scenes

all of these things can aggravate your condition
some are sometimes unavoidable
this is my experience
this is my persuasion
5 daughters to carry on the unfinished work
beautiful if not always dutiful daughters
oh all the things they could do!
all the paintings or music
or maybe theyll be doctors
or writers
or something that gives back something good
something to even up the scales maybe
female energy w/ time being attributes
someone to remember the spells
someone to remember the dead
someone to explore unexplored space
and come back and try to tell the story
someone whos not afraid to say
war is abomination
eating flesh is anathema
money isnt everything
power isnt everything
popularity isnt everything
maybe bite the chubby beringed hand that feeds em
and sink their fangs deep into the flesh
and spit out a better world
or just even a tiny part
is this my purpose?
is this my accident?
stay tuned
or come to the enmore
or the national
i will convince you
in music


nevets yeblik

origins of the one called time being

few people realised
that mild mannered middle aged nevets yeblik
was in fact
the time being
he was to all extents n porpoises a regular space rocker
refusing to relinquish his bass n vapouriser
he blazed a tiny trial thru the nether regions of deep space rocks
he boasted of his own ridiculous exploits on a "blog"
he was part of a network of disorganized rabbles
loosely based around a miasma
of music/drugs/love/god/narcissism
and a whole lotta other self-aggrandizing bullshit
he originally appears during the reign of arthur
a celtish warlord during the six century
the time being
a true druid
drenched in fucking woad n beltane, eve
of course familiar with available pharmaceuticals
(mmm hensbane bong anyone?)
and being quite a dab hand on ye olde lyre
composed a celtic blogge concerning his own a'ventures
in a parallel universe
in the future
nevets yeblik
now identical to original time being
projected thru time
assuming identity
merging into yeblik
his double
not his twin
unleashed in the 21st century
the time being
defaced real estate salesmen on billboards
by placing bubble gum over their noses
making them look like koala bears
he terrorised the "straights"
with his blog
where he lambasted them
and railed against those he perceived were evil
the time being dematerialising at will
some times left nevets yeblik holding the baby
literally
metaphorically
astrally
and in actuality
the time being
co inhabited nevetsyebliks body n mind
a voice amongst many other voices
the time being had learnt to silence
many of nevetsyebliks other voices
some he had strangled in the cortex
some he had let wither n warp
the time being was a druid after all
he had undergone the rituals
but you see he needed nevetsyeblik
to manifest himself on this particular plane
at this particular point
he was
as well
simultaneously manifesting "elsewhere"
he projected himself out
from old england
if you wonder how the time being looked
way back then
nevetsyeblik was an exact replica
give or take
a freckle or two maybe
this was a necessary condition of manifestation
nevetsyeblik had begun to change now
now that the time being called most of the shots
now that he had discliplined himself with swimming
yoga and chi gong
his diet was austere
helping nevets throw off the narcotic shackles
which had held him earthbound
he started reorganizing his doubles world
collaborating with him on art n music n dreaming
but still limited in his power
by virtue of nevetsyebliks naivete n clumsiness
which was innate but not unovercomable
shortly after nevetsyebliks 50 birthday
the bond now established
the time being began appearing as nevetsyeblik
in concerts
after having mastered the bass in 1 minute flat
he sang a combination of nevetsyebliks words
and his own
but by now the 2 were rapidly becoming indistinguishable
they were each other
at least in 2006
the time being changed nevetsyeblik
to suit himself
many could not accept or believe these changes
others embraced the new improved nevetsyeblik
still more were quite frankly suspicious
deriding his attempts
tripping him up
unable to see the inevitability
that although
the time being allowed nevetsyeblik
his outbursts n selfobsessions
(this was also in his own nature)
he began to assume more and more control
and at his very heart
was a resolve
to do whatever he could
in these precarious circumstances
in these peculiar times
in his flawed double
songs that told his stories
his eternal themes
songs about the time
songs about the distance
songs about songs
a new smooth melodious voice
insinuated itself between nevetsyebliks vocal chords
his trance came upon him during performance
of nevetsyeblik n his songs
which were admittedly very crude for a real druid
but he had to make do
this is the best that can be done
few people realised
that nevets yeblik
was
the time being

in the orbits tremor

yes
ok
we were pretty good
my oh my
thank you brisbane
that was more like it
you made my day
the audience completed the loop
enhancing and redirecting back at us
our own attempt
at measuring the feeling
o tivoli what an ideal place for the chrunch to play
such a lovely mild brisbane night
beforehand
backstage i paced a la le panther mangey
my fingers curl n uncurl
people talk to me
and somewhere miles out there
some drone in autopilot
answers along the party lines
my eyes are not fixed
they wander
my mind is swimming
as i spot check my memory
see if i can remember the second verse to this song
see if i can remember the double e minors in that song
but that too at a superficial level
under are more mes
one me is excited to fever pitch
another me is calm n collected
another me imagines the doodles in bed
and the twillies in sweden..what time is it there now?
i meet some people
one guy
he had fraternal twin daughters born same day n year
as les doodles
one dark, one blonde
just like them too
so jus' remember folks
you think that yer unique
and yes yes
you are
but there are other people out there
with the same goodnbad things happnin' to them
azacktly the same as you
anyway eventually we go on
right in the middle of a george harrison song
cos i was jus' too impayshent to wait my fiendss
like waiting for the dentist
like waiting for some thing delicious
going on that stage
thats a whole trip in itself
have you got the balls?
i stride on pick up the bass
whoops
im playing ye olde telecaster guitar in firstsong
start plucking the chord
pete starts the piano
(actually on the record its the reverse
i do piano, he does guitar)
timbo comes in
the drums are like the sound of an armys bootheels
hitting the resounding ground
mwps crow wah-wah starts up
its all sounding good in my in-ears
its gonna be a magical night
after that point
i dont remember
some geezer called something out nice
another geezer called out something nasty
people vainly screamed out for songs
they hoped for
but somehow must have known we would not play
the band played very very well
thats all really
thats my review
its hard to review it and do it too
im in my own world up there
just like getting out of your tree
strapping on some 2 thousand dollar headphones
putting some very loud spacerock on
and jamming along on yer air guitah
except that you actually are doing a bit of the music yerself
its easy
its hard
its great
its disappointing
its exciting
its boring
its a whirlpool of emotions
whirling out into unremembered places
something has changed tho
something is streamlined
something keeps us in the sky
flying for another day
afterwards
back to my room
the open windows stream in the blue air
the curtains move gently in the breeze
i then had to get up early today at 6 am
drive to heiroport
fly home w/ all argy-bargy associated with that
but now im here
had a picnic in glebe
weathers turning sultry
i bet the trees love to sway around in the wind
looks like thyre dancing
but who has seen the wind?
the palms out the back grope blindly
in the torrents of air
the sky now grey getting greyer all the time being
on aeroplane home listened to low spark of high heeled boys
r.i.p. jim capaldi
drummer n co-songwriter
tell me if ya think this is a brilliant couplet..
the percentage yer paying is too hi priced
and yer living beyond all yer means
and the man in the suit has bought a new car
on the profit hes made on yer dreams
and today ya just swear that that man was shot dead
by a gun that didnt make any noise
but it wasnt a bullet that laid him to rest
was the low spark of hi heeled boys
and the whole thing just grooves along o so nicely
it came out in a weird lp cover too
with the corners cut off
n a 3D effect thing
the next album had a cover like that too
but i dont think its quite as good
steve winwood a beautiful soulfull o voice
piano just drips out n glides
distorted organ
a guy from africa rebop kwaku something
(r.i.p. him too)
playing some extra in the groove percussive stuff
this is my ideas ground when i think about percussion actually
a cat called chris wood on winds (r.i.p. on drugs)
rick grech a fluid n mellifluous bass player
therese 4 bona fido true classics on this disc my fiendss
its essential in my universe
tho its influences may be hard to detect
or maybe never really had the wherewithal
to play this kinda jazzy thing
anyhow
traffic
what a group!
now my body is sick of typing at this blogge!
a nasty electric feeling nerve is shooting up my leg
the glasses perched on my almost perfect nose
they make my olde eyesache
my fingers which can pull bass strings for 2+hours
wither as i tickle the lapptop for too long
my head weighs a hundred weight on my swanlike neck
my shoulders droop with gravity not gravitas
being onstage is like shooting a cocktail of the best stuff there is
but ya gotta gotta xcept the comedown
(cue in music)
when its good
you really are higher than the sun
and that aint the fleur de lis talkin, mister
its a privelege to explore these realms n thoughts
for you/with you
i didnt fucking write my songs for no reason
its all starting to come back to me
its all beginning to fade away
we'll probably never get to the bottom of all this
just diggin' n delvin'
in side yer sweet head, childe
where the darkness holds sway
and the light that could blind you
burns in your sacred heart
these are the voyages of the nevets yeblik
legendary time being
mapper of unmapped space
deceiver n disillusionist
charlatan n clown
renaissance bloke
dealer in nothings
a ship flown by shadows
shibboleth
ingolstadt
the spear of destiny
the hammer and nails of the gods
the consolation of the deadheads
war n roll lovelock
warlock of rock
with a hole in each sock
there is no stopping me
until i meet the end
im invulnerable now
except for all these gaps everywhere
im immortal until i die
im forgotten until im remembered
my tomb is desecrated
and my skull is used
as a drinking vessel
by a new barbarian emperor
its ok
this is all years in the future
right now tho
its just some tomato soup
and something relaxing
goodnight n goodluck
sk

throbbing gently under my fingers

oh i dont know
im backstage at the tivoli
they got wi-fi here
im blogging
gee i cant remember too much about eumundi
i kept my head down n i did my gig
it was good someone said...
we stayed ay a lovely bed n breakfast joint
with a huge sloping garden filled with plants n flowers n birds
spring sunshine n blue skies
i did yog n chi on ye olde verandah
the gig was down a grassy hill from the accom
an arcadian bushland setting for a full moon stroll to gig
pan appears from behind a tree with a dryad
his pipes begin their lull
the dryad curtseys n dances around her tree
her arms raised up in exstacy
wow i havent even hadda drink yet
the gig is smallish n solde out
my in-ear monitoring disorients me
encaging me within my own stereophonic world
i pluck the bass i sing the song
i lock into a groove
and the music does the talking
i dont always know what its talking about
but thats ok, i guess
the stage is about 5 inches high
theres no drum riser either
and its a bit cramped for me to run around
rocking n rolling like a lunatick
as i normally do......
we do some encores
i spose they musta liked it
the next day
which was this morning
i wake up
and at the bottom of the hill is a huge market
i mean huge
this baby was huge
bigger than all the markets in sydnee put togetha!
im baffled by choice
so i dont buy nuffink
tho i coulda got loadsa different stuff
didjeridoos, furniture, tiedyed baby outfits
handmaid chockies, pickles, tea, hats, shoes, paintings
windchimes,toys, capes, smartarse tshirts,
creams which fix arthritis n footnmouth disease
oh and lots n lots more
then me n pablo vee the chrunchs trusty cameraman
have brekky in this caf
i have avocado salad with macadamia nut dressing n lemon juice
some bread with hummous baked in somehow
what a nice way to start ye olde day now already fled
so i drive to brizzy with jordene bareback the chrunchs mixah
trevore j, the chrunchs lighting man, n pv
check into yonder hotel
same one year after year
same people working behind the desk
same bar of chocky in the fridge
i 'ave a showr
i do chi gong n yog
im cooled out n calm as a cucumber
i call a cab
another cab rolls in
the cab i call has a sikh guy
hes never heard of the tivoli
he makes a feeble effort to look it up on his map
why dont you take that taxi he says angrily
i jump out
go over to other taxi
can ya take me to the tiv-o-lee?
yep
didnt that arab know where it was? he says
he wasnt an arab, he was a sikh i say
same fucking difference mate he says
we get to tivoli
lovely olde theatre in middle of brizzy
n olde brizzy aint a badde town fiendss....
not too badde at all in fact
come on a long way
since an idiot was in charge here
everyone knew he was an idiot
but he seemed to have rigged things
he was a born again religious ratbag too
gee sounds kinda like some other little tyrant
and now we all laugh about this idiot
like we will about that other still extant idiot one day
we do a long n tedious soundcheck
the bass droops round my neck weighing a hundred tons
my voice croaks out n falls flat n sharp to the flaw
my cut up finger is sore n opened up
the band all muck around with their gadgets n stuff
its loud n cold n lonely up on that stage
we rehearse some songs
gonna change it a little tonight
so that leaves me here with you
waiting for my thai tofu stir fry to materialise
bare footed, its pleasantly balmy outside
people keep interrupting me
as i attempt to write this blogge
D-railing my trains of thought
never never mind
thats it
in one n half hours i hit the boards
a rocknroll warlock
unleashed n set free
calling up the racket
my heavy staff
gently throbbing under my fingers

the humble servant of your majesties

"and in the planes above us
the slightest prick is felt
when we break down
when we just melt...."

6.30 friday morning
flying to queensland v.soon
must pick mwp up at 8.15 in paddington
listening to ashra
kraut rock
wow true to my stereotype!
have already smoked pre-flyte nerve calmer
will have more layter, i guess
maybe half a val. if flyte is bumpy
or if i get the wrong seat
wedged between 2 huge ladies
clostrafobia coming down fast
its a little stormy lookin' today...
(gulp)
you see the chrunches adventure in the plane with the explodin' engine
used up my last bit of blase-ness about flyin'
it fuckin' scares me now
i cant relax
i dont relax
i have to do it all the time
fly here n there
for long 15 hour flights
or a 9 then a 12 then a 2 hours to get to sweden
i have 2 states on planes
anxious or sedated
please no advice unless you put the airmiles in that i have
anyway
at the end of flyte is tropical queensland
eumundi , a grroovy little town on the sunshine coast
we talkin' floridian weather n palm trees, fiendss
balmy nights, jellyfish dawns, hot blissful days
lotsa timber houses in bushland settings w/skylights
surfie boys n girls running along in wetsuits w/ boards
holidaymakers
mumsndads w/ kids
models w/fake tits etc
lotsa healthy cafes
anyway we gonna play tonite there
bring that house down
tropical rock w/sultry bits
maybe we got some holiday accom
with a fancy swimming pool n gold faucets
all day menu n wi-fi
fluffy robes you can wear n even buy!?
a chocolate on the pillow when the made terns the sheet back
you dont get that one too often tho


the australian audiences......
oh my my
it aint like playing in the states
it just aint!
which is why bands always like to tour the states
cos the audiences enjoy emselves!
here.....
i dunno
the audience pays their money
they can do whatever they like
i spose...
i dont wanna order em to enjoy emselves
enjoying yerself doesnt necessarily mean
screaming n waving n stage diving
my mum came to gig in london where there was stage diving
she couldnt believe it!
then a big black man told her to fuck off when she tried to get in backstage
it was quite a night for my mother, i can tell you
anyway
you can enjoy yerself on a chair sitting still
you dont have to dance or writhe baybee
(tho its nice when ya do, childe)
just dont be intimidated by my good looks n apparent genius
thats all i humbly beg of ya, my cherished aussie audiencer
yes its the chrunch, we're magnificent n we're legends
but just treat us nicely, ok?
we're not the local youth club band
we need a little encouragement
ah thats better
pretend that we love each other
and it will come to pass
you see its the way its meant to be
we need to turn each other on a little
or we'll become sullen n distant
and then ya wont getcha moneysworth
its so easy to let go n enjoy it...
but its kinda hard as well
i know
i know
i been in the audience a cuppla times myself
but please
trust us
as i must trust mr pilate today
in yonder flying can of metal
put yerself in our experienced hands
let yer mind stretch out n relax
let tension evaporate
let anxiety cease
let a dreamy n thought provoking mood come down
listen to the bass n drums
follow the blooming guitars
the words are telling you a story
see, its quite pleasant
isnt it?
have used the liquid bandage
finger still a little open
hey queensland
you better make it worth my while
see ya tonite then
in eu-fucking-mundi
and have bells on!

stamp duty

nk n i decided some indian food mite be nice for dinner
i chuck on my ipod n i duck down the road
as fast as fast can be
nimbly stepping round the slow walkers n bumbling dolts
who crawl along the pavement
past the nirvana beach liquor store
i move like a ghost in the darkness
popol vuh on ipod very much lately
all of em
i recommend all of em
sometimes the guitars almost sound like us
in some strange ways
sometimes a girl sings in a very teutonic medieval style
sometimes its all kinda indian-y and ambient
some times its very gothic n architecture
sometimes it rocks quite hard
sometimes its very mysterious
of course i cant remember the titles cos theyre in german
but this ones called hosianna mantra
buy it for someone "straight" for their birthday
they'll say "what the f...." and give it back to you for sure
then you can enjoy it because at least you tried
to turn that square on,
and cos its brilliant in its self
oh so easy baby i digress
i start out doin' one thing
i always end up doin' the other
i begin on the high road
i finish on the low road
at the temple of low men
i guess sometimes
but where was i....?
oh yes
so i order the food
palak paneer
dal
naans
aloo tikki
rice
ten minutes before its ready
i nip round the corner
and listening to ipod
standing outside a bookshop
which seemed to have loadsa intriguing books
in its shelves
and im digging the p.v.
and staring at the covers of yonder bookes
when a face pops into view like a dolphin
swimming up to a camera n looking in
blow me down its laetitia,
a spanish gurl and mac guru
who helped me get my lapptopp going
she was filming us at revesby too
much to my surprise
but there she was
anyway ive just said hello to her
but who should walk past
a famous actor fiendss
one of my favourites over the years
a beautiful young man
now a very handsome olde devil
terry fucking stamp
i say to laetitia do you see who that was
terence stamp
shes excited cos shes a fan too
we follow him round to the fishnchip shop
hes just standing there in shorts n an old shirt
very suntanned n statuesque
a real top class british gentleman charmer
rob dicko eat ya heart out
anyhow he buys some fishnchips
(surprise , surprise)
and sits there eatin' it at a stool n table
l and i are staring thru the window pretending to choose lobsters
but we're watching stampy
no one recognising the druid at all!
go on go n say hi to him i say to laetitia
we're both giggling n carrying on a bit
wow i dont often see guys that get me going like that
but terence stamp, cmon!
he who defined swingin' london with julie christie
forever glorified in waterloo sunset
as epitamy of grooviness
with those glassy blue eyes
now at 60 something
hes slim n upright
striding purposefully down the street
with a spring in his step
and woofing down bondis famous fishnchips
i'd like to say
that i walked up n said terry?
n he looked up n said
steve? steve fuckin' kilbey from the chrunch!
and then he said
kinda quiet like
got anything to smoke at home , olde bean?
and this led to merry evening
with stampy sittin' round the kitchen table
regaling us with stories of marlon brando
and his brother chris who co-managed the who
and the swinging bloody sixties..
sipping on cognac and puffing on the vapouriser
and then he invited me onto the film set
and i got to play his underling villain
a criminally insane old 'ippy
driven nuts by years of dope abuse n rocknroll
but still with a neatly trimmed beard n nice accent
so the viewer aint sure whether to bleedin' well trust me
or knot...
i could look dapper in a black tux at a gaming table, terry
(tho i lost 70 bux playin' the pokies at revesby)
or i dont look too bad in a wet suit (i hope)
if theres any underwater argy bargy to sort aht
and not only that
but i score the friggin film too
and get nominated for an oscar
which they decide not to give me
cos they know i hate all award ceremonies
(ANATHEMA)
and they also know
they cant trust me
that if i do turn up
i'll stick it to the man!
yeah just they way everybody hopes someone fucking will
but everyone needs the man too much to do it!
and then....
oh sorry
terry,
terry stamp , if you are reading this
i will behave myself at the oscars this time
for you
and for olde lang sine too
so i am available
ive had a little acting experience
um i was shylock you know
and thats a big part....
anyway
dont let my blog put you off, terry
if hollywood is beckoning me....
i could be available
lemme look at my calendar..
hmmmm
how about in five minutes...
terry
terry?
terry??
TERRY????!

soy nepenthe latte

o prima vera !
italian suns burn hazy over me
wandering in these woods
for a thousand years
stumbling thru the warmth
the lovely girls and good companions
drink food laughter
wine and brown flesh
the clear rivers and their grumbling stones
sweet creatures lap from its waters
we paint our faces with masques
in the haze of an eternal morning
making simple music in the open air
we live at the centre of the world
at the centre of time
our rough bread and our virgin olive oil
our strength and our youth
our victories
the deep earth yields up her bounty gladly
the rain falls in gentle downpours
birdsong in the forests
harmony , melody
call and response
fruit ripens on the tree and vine
men and women slip off together
somewhere
the sun moves into midday
and shadows vanish
children dive in the river
blue kingfishers and skylarks
at dusk eventually
after the long afternoon
the sun appears red and huge in the sky
a crescent moon shortly follows
a tiny star at its southern point
under trees we prepare long tables
we sit and talk and drink and eat into the night
the night mingles in the wine
which becomes dark and sweet and strong
hands take your hand
leading you into the darkness
lips whisper at your ear
fingertips find you tenderly
in the warm black spaces
and you find your way home
while the spirits of the trees guard your bower
and the spirits of the night walk abroad
and in the black-blue sky
shooting stars arc across its dark face
music seeping from far away
celebration of springtime
this blessed planet
this holy night
this memory of joy

soon soon soon

another cloudy morning
6.43
ipod on shuffle
cat power half of you
yeah its ok
kinda desolate
uh oh
coldplay white shadows
can i write blogs to this kinda stuff
maybe i gotta get back to oophoi
or eno
or something gentle n undulatin'
yep
sorry chris, you wont feel a thing!
ah thats better
peter baumann romance 76
i dont like other words intruding on my words
i love to paint to songs
but i need to write to instrumental music
unless its in another language...
that works for me
scarlet bumper wakes up early
so i got up n meditated
with her sitting in my lap
crosslegged on the sofa
she immediately goes back into a deep dreamless sleep
works every time
eve n aurora arrive at the table almost immediately
they start asking questions
i say auroras a "piker" if she wont come to the pool
with me n evie
then i have to explain what "piking out" means
i sound like some olde cs lewis codger
explaining the slang phrases of 40 years ago
do people still say "piker"?
theyre both sitting at kitchy table now
looking at me expectantly
like a pair of small puppies watching you eat
what do they actally want i ask them
they dont know
they just want to vaguely hassle someone...
ive sliced my right index finger on a razor
and its ahurting me to type
oh boy i hope its better before our next gig in eumundi
its my main plucking finger....!
(gulp)
its gonna be a real mess if it aint healed by then
but
as some loathesome greasy manager once said
the show must go on
and i'll have to pluck more with middle finger
or use a plectrum
whatever, pray for my finger, my fingerlings
so that i may rock once again
due to xtreem racquet the band is generating at moment
i am wearing in ear monitoring
which is those things jammed in my whole ear
flesh coloured torture instruments
to block out le rackette
and
to give me feed of all instruments
unfortunately its hard to be chatty with them on
your voice coming back in reverb like the voice of god
filling up yer head with yerself
the audience aurally recede to whispers milesaway
its hard to be "natural"
just when i wazza getting my showbiz spiel together
long overdue too, it was
gee am i imagining it
or are australian audiences more hesitant n reticent
than the u.s. n europa?
whats wrong with ya?
are we actually scaring em into a frightened gawk?
they hang about
not that excited to see one of the best space opera bands ever?
whats wrong with em?
by now
the baby is on my lap
shes woken up n she wants my lap
and nowhere else will do
its flattering and annoying!
everytime i leave the house for a while
she gets upset
she sits on my lap
gently wriggling
softly saying dad dad
it sounds very cozy
but what with my sliced finger
and big fat baby in ye olde lap
every letter becomes excruciating
such is my love for you, devoted reader
my imaginary companion
you who exist on a screen somewhere
a shadow , a flicker
aurora colours in
eves playing a complicated game
with a load of little animals
baby bumper slings her foot up on the table, imperiously
she sighs, a little bored quite frankly
but shes content too
shes like a little beast in some ways
and a little angel in lotsa others
oh dad
dont worry
i aint about to get all fucking sentymentle on ya
kids are kids are kids
like the dawn , n the trees n the wind
there will always be kids
i have a lot of kid left in me still
the little bugger refuses to vacate
and let olde mr avuncular wisdom move in
the kids are alright, i guess
someone hadda raise me
now its my turn
i guess im lucky none of my ones
are as obnoxious n precocious as i was
tho each can be shockingly naughty on occaisions
i was like having dr zachary smith join yer family
smart arse comments, mutinies, disappearances
setting things on fire,general ratbaggery
bullying small cousins etc
i couldnt stand myself
but i couldnt help myself either
i was the sorta kid that i would detest now if i met 'im
i have only very very recently become even vaguely nice
and if they hadda had bloggs way back when
you woulda seen a different manne.....
actually its very nice to give the bumper a cuddle
shes warm n smells of vanilla
she digs kraut rock too
baumanns sequencers keep her jigging about
although shes also trying to kick my lapptopp
she wants to do some typing with her heel!
nice one bumper
now i have to constrain the foot w/ left hand
i leave ya there
e n a furiously colouring in
bumpr riggling on my lap
soft grey clouds
bridge n tower obscured
romance 76 going in the corner
flowers in vases
ganeshas n photographs
fridge magnets
fruit
finish