this is the future, ok?
too late to say no anyhow
choice is illusory
your course is fixed
(handsignal)
set to go
gonna get some where
far away and watch you explode
gonna plot your arc in the night sky
watch your sparks fall to earth
racing on n on
towards the receding dawn
(initiate)
when you falling n shaking
coming down around my ears
when the mirror crashes into itself
and everything from the otherside set free
when the whirlpool and tornado combine
when the fire that burns underwater turns green
and the great dragon who stole your heart
scorches me with its breath
falling asleep you relinquish the wheel
waking into your otherlife
walking out of a hangar in the english summertime
hey dad is that a spitty or a hurricane?
its a spitfire son and he shot down a load of enemies....
just look at all those symbols on his fuselage!
in a wood nearby lives an english wizard
people call him the being
attended by five daughters
living next to a crystal stream
as his iniation
the wizard was submerged in ice cold water
just his nostrils out
and weighted down
with a huge rock upon his chest
and shut into darkness
but given a subject
for a suite of songs
in the morning the druid
steps out of the abyss
and picks up his axe
and lays down 200 new songs
when he was 25
the wizard had been captured by the "straights"
and paraded thru the big end of town
captive and bound
the "straight" emperor
asks for a private interview with the wizard
we can imagine this scene
as it was n will be again
thousands of years thence n hence
emperor: they say you know magic!
wizard: they say you know nothing
emperor: lets see what you can do
wizard: make a fist
emperor clenches his hand
wizard just smiles
emperor: wheres the magic in this.......
wizard smiling curiously
and staring into emperors eyes
emperor begins to struggle a little
his hand refuses to unclench itself
as he tries harder n harder
his own fingernails begin to bite into the palm
and the wizard smiles
and smiles
and holds his gaze
enough cries the emperor
his face sweating n strained
the wizard looks away
the hand is unclenched
the emperor sobs with relief
take him away and release him, he orders
but its too late
hes seen into the beings mind
now the empire might start to crumble
dad we should go in there with spitfires....
easy slim, theyll have to train the pilots first
dad imagine their surprise
when the english turn up with our spitties!
see how they like that...
the english are always the good guys
arent they dad?
of course they are
its our side innit?
dont be silly son
anyway
aint this the future now?
and we're living on the edge of time
dropping out of the race
one by one
as we go
into the good night
heatseeker
in a cold tomb
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Friday, March 30, 2007
jumble sale
scarlet kilbey walks into a bar
gimme a shotta milk n make it snappy she says
no that isnt right
the doodles walk into a bar
give us 2 shots of milk they say
wait a minute that isnt right
elli n minna walk into a bar
give us 2 identical shots of......
now what would they order...?
while im waiting to figure this out
tim wolpes walks into a bar
2 other guys waiting for him
one extremely tall
the other has long dark hair tangled in grey
wolpes chatters excitedly
as a unicum slides down the long bar
well the killers finally lost it...ha ha!
the long haired guy says what now lads,eh?
wolpes sinks his unicum
and signals for another
the 3 men stare morosely at the carpet
all around people are playing the poker machines
chatting afterwork
hes stark raving over the cuckoos nest boys im telling you
jesus!
just when we had that tour of the baltic states lined up
fuck it! theres some good record shops in riga...
yeah i hear ho-day is selling real well in latvia....
uh huh we probably gotta buncha a fanss there
but i mean...couldnt we just get a bass player in....?
not like its that hard to play a bloody bass....or what?
sound of laughter
and we'll just sing em ourselves,eh?
who knows the words to "bubble and squeak?"
duh, ya can gettem off the internet
oh yeah anyway....im jus gonna make em up
yeah the "kids" in latvia wont know the difference will they?
nah, and we can send killer some money...yeah?
the sound of the poker machines and the bars chit chat
outside its raining
a dark cold afternoon
in the parking lot
a long dark shape pulls up
inside sits a dishevelled figure clutching the wheel
he stares at himself in the mirror
i am the killer he says to himself as a mantra
i am the killer as he slams shut the door
and strides to the entrance
bada bing says the sign
no that cant be right
he stumbles into the bar
as hes standing there
tony soprano takes him by the sleeve and pulls him
down a corridor
into a black office
soprano puts his face close to the killers
i thought i fuckin' told you to lay low the crime boss barks
killer says but but but
didja take care of that little matter for me like i asked ya?
killer shakes himself loose
wait a minute...i thought you were managin' me?
yesh i am says soprano ...after you do that little job...
then youll get me outta my music sales contract
asked the killer, his face brightening
no problem winked soprano
suddenly nate from six feet under burst in
hey it isnt fair that youre the only hbo tv show
mentioned on killers blog...
hey nate aint you fuckin...you know...uh dead asked soprano
nah it was justa dream you know before the next season..
at least in my show they stay dead said soprano
..except for adriana n steve buscemi says the killer
will ya listen to this guy breaking balls said soprano
glaring at the killer
nate laughed... we reap what we sow, tony
aw shuttup nate...i saw ya in that silly wife swapping movie
said the killer under his breath
suddenly sir denniss hogforth-boare
the head of amalgamated records burst in
howdja like to all sing unguarded moment at
the commonwealth games...the olde version...!?
with the riffs an' everything...? yeah count me in! said soprano
killer began ..cant we do the..
but a single frown from the mafia chief made him button his lip
yeah ok that sounds uh great he stammered
hey said tony
can we change that line to horses heads in beds?
the killer nodded
why not he smirked
gimme a shotta milk n make it snappy she says
no that isnt right
the doodles walk into a bar
give us 2 shots of milk they say
wait a minute that isnt right
elli n minna walk into a bar
give us 2 identical shots of......
now what would they order...?
while im waiting to figure this out
tim wolpes walks into a bar
2 other guys waiting for him
one extremely tall
the other has long dark hair tangled in grey
wolpes chatters excitedly
as a unicum slides down the long bar
well the killers finally lost it...ha ha!
the long haired guy says what now lads,eh?
wolpes sinks his unicum
and signals for another
the 3 men stare morosely at the carpet
all around people are playing the poker machines
chatting afterwork
hes stark raving over the cuckoos nest boys im telling you
jesus!
just when we had that tour of the baltic states lined up
fuck it! theres some good record shops in riga...
yeah i hear ho-day is selling real well in latvia....
uh huh we probably gotta buncha a fanss there
but i mean...couldnt we just get a bass player in....?
not like its that hard to play a bloody bass....or what?
sound of laughter
and we'll just sing em ourselves,eh?
who knows the words to "bubble and squeak?"
duh, ya can gettem off the internet
oh yeah anyway....im jus gonna make em up
yeah the "kids" in latvia wont know the difference will they?
nah, and we can send killer some money...yeah?
the sound of the poker machines and the bars chit chat
outside its raining
a dark cold afternoon
in the parking lot
a long dark shape pulls up
inside sits a dishevelled figure clutching the wheel
he stares at himself in the mirror
i am the killer he says to himself as a mantra
i am the killer as he slams shut the door
and strides to the entrance
bada bing says the sign
no that cant be right
he stumbles into the bar
as hes standing there
tony soprano takes him by the sleeve and pulls him
down a corridor
into a black office
soprano puts his face close to the killers
i thought i fuckin' told you to lay low the crime boss barks
killer says but but but
didja take care of that little matter for me like i asked ya?
killer shakes himself loose
wait a minute...i thought you were managin' me?
yesh i am says soprano ...after you do that little job...
then youll get me outta my music sales contract
asked the killer, his face brightening
no problem winked soprano
suddenly nate from six feet under burst in
hey it isnt fair that youre the only hbo tv show
mentioned on killers blog...
hey nate aint you fuckin...you know...uh dead asked soprano
nah it was justa dream you know before the next season..
at least in my show they stay dead said soprano
..except for adriana n steve buscemi says the killer
will ya listen to this guy breaking balls said soprano
glaring at the killer
nate laughed... we reap what we sow, tony
aw shuttup nate...i saw ya in that silly wife swapping movie
said the killer under his breath
suddenly sir denniss hogforth-boare
the head of amalgamated records burst in
howdja like to all sing unguarded moment at
the commonwealth games...the olde version...!?
with the riffs an' everything...? yeah count me in! said soprano
killer began ..cant we do the..
but a single frown from the mafia chief made him button his lip
yeah ok that sounds uh great he stammered
hey said tony
can we change that line to horses heads in beds?
the killer nodded
why not he smirked
Thursday, March 29, 2007
dont look here....the jokes in your hand
i dont have any answers my lovelies
own-lee questions questions questions
questions on toppa questions
but not one
not one miserable excuse for an answer
f'rinstance yessaday
i was standing in a queue
it could have been a line
except it was between 2 "straight" points
i decided to measure the various radii
of vicious circles
and had enlisted the aid of a man from the cycleshoppe
he made rolls
he made me so angry
people i was confused by my pi and source
my little pigs you know im no good with somes
have i told you about my numerical blindspot
its between 1 and 100
cant see those nombres approaching hombres
im so mixed up with arithmetic and algae bra
it sure doesnt make me want to multiply baybee
slam those digits together olde sk
whats a few thousand here or there my sun
take it out on me mama
soon i was into a long division
down n down i went
a vulgar fraction of my former selves
entering the sub atomic kingdoms
a micronaut
hold me closer tiny sailor
on each electron there whirls planets
each planet peopled by civilisations
rising and falling like my true loves breast
in the morning
each of their microns peopled by teeming universes
and down and down and down
i ve been a criminal in a million sub-cosmos
smaller than a bees dick
shrinkman shrink
on minute world# 131313
i met a manne
a meta-man you could say
i was certain he had an answer on him
or at least a vague guarantee
he said
everything is indeed relative
we are all hewn from starflesh
that kind of thing
the sky in this world was rapscallion purple
illuminated by rapid pinks
underscored by reluctant blue
the meta-man gestured heavenwards n proclaimed
the accident was planned
the plan has gone awry
one little part of the scheme is off the beam
it would seem
hey wiseman dont sling me no jive i sneered
ive come here for some answers
you see way up there in the big world
well people are floundering in a sea of nescience
drowning in uncertainty
the gossip mags the fluoro lites
the sirloin stakes thru their hearts
their veins clogged with thickening muck
the residue of the beasts fear
how can they hope to know....?
war pestilence famine death
same old same old but suddenly new
what can you do?
what can i do?
here the meta-man paused
and his 3rd eye was fixed on my soul
you, like dante
have journeyed deep into the abysm
you have fallen small among us
and then
a trapdoor in the pavement opened up
and a hand handed him a note
the note said
please tell steven kilbey
he left home today without his lunch!
i was filled with dread
sitting in the darkish classroom while a storm raged outside
with all the other kids
i could smell that banana-ey lunch box smell
as the kids took out their sandwiches
mm jam sandwiches said wendy fuller
i groped the little buckles on my satchel
but my heart dropped as i found it devoid of lunch
suddenly my dad appeared
in his suit
framed in the doorway of the classroom
looking oh ever so handsome
steven kilbey! calls out mrs mcginnis
and im so happy that my dad is here with my lunch..
but dad takes me out into the empty corridor
we hear the rain tap tap tap on the iron roof
the windows awash with water reveal a stormy afternoon
listen says dad
im not really yer dad
im that meta-man sent here
to fetch you
cos youve drifted off on a tangent
take my hand.....
no i like it here i cried and backed away down the corridor
you cant stay here said the meta-man
its 1960.....
i went n sat back down with the other kids
but everything was silent
there werent any kids
only their shadows
the rain had stopped
the lights faded down
alone
again
naturally
own-lee questions questions questions
questions on toppa questions
but not one
not one miserable excuse for an answer
f'rinstance yessaday
i was standing in a queue
it could have been a line
except it was between 2 "straight" points
i decided to measure the various radii
of vicious circles
and had enlisted the aid of a man from the cycleshoppe
he made rolls
he made me so angry
people i was confused by my pi and source
my little pigs you know im no good with somes
have i told you about my numerical blindspot
its between 1 and 100
cant see those nombres approaching hombres
im so mixed up with arithmetic and algae bra
it sure doesnt make me want to multiply baybee
slam those digits together olde sk
whats a few thousand here or there my sun
take it out on me mama
soon i was into a long division
down n down i went
a vulgar fraction of my former selves
entering the sub atomic kingdoms
a micronaut
hold me closer tiny sailor
on each electron there whirls planets
each planet peopled by civilisations
rising and falling like my true loves breast
in the morning
each of their microns peopled by teeming universes
and down and down and down
i ve been a criminal in a million sub-cosmos
smaller than a bees dick
shrinkman shrink
on minute world# 131313
i met a manne
a meta-man you could say
i was certain he had an answer on him
or at least a vague guarantee
he said
everything is indeed relative
we are all hewn from starflesh
that kind of thing
the sky in this world was rapscallion purple
illuminated by rapid pinks
underscored by reluctant blue
the meta-man gestured heavenwards n proclaimed
the accident was planned
the plan has gone awry
one little part of the scheme is off the beam
it would seem
hey wiseman dont sling me no jive i sneered
ive come here for some answers
you see way up there in the big world
well people are floundering in a sea of nescience
drowning in uncertainty
the gossip mags the fluoro lites
the sirloin stakes thru their hearts
their veins clogged with thickening muck
the residue of the beasts fear
how can they hope to know....?
war pestilence famine death
same old same old but suddenly new
what can you do?
what can i do?
here the meta-man paused
and his 3rd eye was fixed on my soul
you, like dante
have journeyed deep into the abysm
you have fallen small among us
and then
a trapdoor in the pavement opened up
and a hand handed him a note
the note said
please tell steven kilbey
he left home today without his lunch!
i was filled with dread
sitting in the darkish classroom while a storm raged outside
with all the other kids
i could smell that banana-ey lunch box smell
as the kids took out their sandwiches
mm jam sandwiches said wendy fuller
i groped the little buckles on my satchel
but my heart dropped as i found it devoid of lunch
suddenly my dad appeared
in his suit
framed in the doorway of the classroom
looking oh ever so handsome
steven kilbey! calls out mrs mcginnis
and im so happy that my dad is here with my lunch..
but dad takes me out into the empty corridor
we hear the rain tap tap tap on the iron roof
the windows awash with water reveal a stormy afternoon
listen says dad
im not really yer dad
im that meta-man sent here
to fetch you
cos youve drifted off on a tangent
take my hand.....
no i like it here i cried and backed away down the corridor
you cant stay here said the meta-man
its 1960.....
i went n sat back down with the other kids
but everything was silent
there werent any kids
only their shadows
the rain had stopped
the lights faded down
alone
again
naturally
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
separate form must be completed
oh impressions of life
how improbable it all is
i still have to remind myself
a multi-multi-levelled happening
being how lucky you are
you are a lucky being and how
like rusty always says
the luck of the devil
ive been lucky to have those 2 guys for mina broder
well it coulda been a lot worse
i coulda gotta nother pair of mes....
still fascinated by memory
i experiment with my minds library
drugs and yoga can dislodge whole obscure chunks
hitherto given up as "cant remember anymore"
i am stranger within my own brain
stranger than you can imagine
but what is it that contains the other memories
the ones i shall not see
occaisionally
i catch a glimpse of something so inviting
and something so awful
and sometimes i cant tell them apart
all i can tell you is theres a lotta material there
a lot of files to peruse
a lotta data to examine
who set it up this way o muse?
nevets youd go crazy if you knew all that stuff
they release it to you in tiny drops
lifetime over lifetime
incarnation on incarnation
who writes these words o muse?
you do nevets
but who am i?
who am i?
who am i?
you are you are you
timebeing in space
mortal man
must i feel so alone then
muse i feel like the water in my bath has gone cold
muse i feel like the candles have suddenly extinguished themselves
and next doors box of kittens have turned into crows
yes yes
calm down
little poppet
poor nevets
you child-man
how can they let you run about like that?
a bitter vah disgrace
making this all up
whos talking now?
are we alone here?
where?
down here
down here in this black box
driving in this fog
the object of the game remains unknown
no object
no game
then what?
forget yourself
then what ?
youre not able to know it
whats down there in those memories?
only you
then let me have them
i do, all the time
but
yes?
but i want more faster
i bet you do
give me memory
oh nevets
please
not mine to give
this memory mine ...
but still contained within
nevets you always looking for a guarantee
from the moment you get up
to the moment you lay down
but never never
a leap of faith
you hear so much about faith
but you gotta believe in something
so why not faith?
what is faith?
hoping something improbable is true
knowing inside in unexplainable terms
diving into black water
walking around blindfolded in the dark
hearing possibilities
faith is different
faith can not be pinned down with definition
yeah ok
whatever you say
isnt it strange that the very thing youre hoping for
the very thing in a nutshell
the most important thing
the most confidential information
it remains.....elusive
how improbable it all is
i still have to remind myself
a multi-multi-levelled happening
being how lucky you are
you are a lucky being and how
like rusty always says
the luck of the devil
ive been lucky to have those 2 guys for mina broder
well it coulda been a lot worse
i coulda gotta nother pair of mes....
still fascinated by memory
i experiment with my minds library
drugs and yoga can dislodge whole obscure chunks
hitherto given up as "cant remember anymore"
i am stranger within my own brain
stranger than you can imagine
but what is it that contains the other memories
the ones i shall not see
occaisionally
i catch a glimpse of something so inviting
and something so awful
and sometimes i cant tell them apart
all i can tell you is theres a lotta material there
a lot of files to peruse
a lotta data to examine
who set it up this way o muse?
nevets youd go crazy if you knew all that stuff
they release it to you in tiny drops
lifetime over lifetime
incarnation on incarnation
who writes these words o muse?
you do nevets
but who am i?
who am i?
who am i?
you are you are you
timebeing in space
mortal man
must i feel so alone then
muse i feel like the water in my bath has gone cold
muse i feel like the candles have suddenly extinguished themselves
and next doors box of kittens have turned into crows
yes yes
calm down
little poppet
poor nevets
you child-man
how can they let you run about like that?
a bitter vah disgrace
making this all up
whos talking now?
are we alone here?
where?
down here
down here in this black box
driving in this fog
the object of the game remains unknown
no object
no game
then what?
forget yourself
then what ?
youre not able to know it
whats down there in those memories?
only you
then let me have them
i do, all the time
but
yes?
but i want more faster
i bet you do
give me memory
oh nevets
please
not mine to give
this memory mine ...
but still contained within
nevets you always looking for a guarantee
from the moment you get up
to the moment you lay down
but never never
a leap of faith
you hear so much about faith
but you gotta believe in something
so why not faith?
what is faith?
hoping something improbable is true
knowing inside in unexplainable terms
diving into black water
walking around blindfolded in the dark
hearing possibilities
faith is different
faith can not be pinned down with definition
yeah ok
whatever you say
isnt it strange that the very thing youre hoping for
the very thing in a nutshell
the most important thing
the most confidential information
it remains.....elusive
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
bitter n twisted
good lord
it amuses me that people read my blogge
looking for logic or reason or even-handedness
expecting me not to be bitter or repeat myself
after all im an olde drug casualty
im a flippin' rock musician
im a bloody pop lyricist
yet you tune in to my rave
expecting something everyday
that i aint ever gonna dish up
you gotta see the jokes on you
especially if ya want kilbey not to be kilbey
dudes im a bitchy gossipy cruel stupid angry prick
did i ever tell you that?
i hereby declare myself bitter
so from hereoninits pointless to write in
and besmirch my comments with this tiresome comment
of course im bitter...about some things, arent you?
isnt everybody?
if you say no youre a liar baby
cmon
if you read this blogge
you only gonna get the most bitter slanderous libellous bile
hey have you ever read paris spleen by baudelaire?
pure vitriol, pure bile
but you see
baudelaire contained other qualities as well
which he comingled with the bile
and that made him baudelaire
my bitterness makes me kilbey
along with a whole buncha otherstuff
so my patrons dont mind a bitter bitterness
as long as they get the poetry n history n humour
and they get to share my grief my worries my hopes n fears
ya see unlike most others
im also giving ya honesty
i say whatever i like
and i dont care whos reading
not my mother
my wife
my friends
enemies
guys in band
no
not even you sunshine
im nearly 53
i dont care anymore
dontcha see
(and i said all this before)
the act is gone
the mask has fallen
im the time being sweetheart
i aint no saint
i aint no journalist
i aint no reliable source of anything
im an opinionated pot smoking hippy bastard
im a socialist
im a almost-vegan
im a peace-nik
im a surrealist
im a funny n cranky olde sod
im a loving father
im a happily married
im a washed up rocker who still makes good records
i try n i try n i try so hard
i dig into my brain so deep to bring you the things i do
they may not be good
but i never condescend to you
i never just dish up bland blah
i never miss a day on my blogge
cos i couldnt think of anything "p c " to say
i let ya have what im thinking both barrels
as if you were here with me now
as if you were sitting in my kitchen
with brian eno playing on my ipodbox
and im drinkin' soy milk n goji juice
and soon i'll take the doodles to school
and then i'll swim a kilometre
and then im gonna post a copy of my book
to steffy fandorin cos he knows why
and then im gonna do chi gong
pay some bills
im gonna buy my mrs a coffee on the way home
im gonna come home re read this stupid entry
see if any body has commented
im gonna do a little this n that
and if i like it a bit more
oh ive gone off at a tangent
thats something else i do
cos im you know following my train of thought
you gotta roll with the punchbowls my friends
i can just imagine that i wrote something about genghis khan
in my style, natch
along the lines of
that genghis khan is a nassty little bugger
not content with totally fucking up ye olde china
the crazy tartar bastard went fer india
(isnt tartar something yer dog has round its teeth?)
any way olde ghengy boy wassa total bloodthirsty maniacal mofo
etc etc
and then
anonymous at 515 writes
ghengis khan was a good guy
youre only jealous n bitter you didnt invade europe like he did!
anonymous at 612 writes
get over it and lighten up
im tired of you bashing historical figures!
anonymous at 7 15
ghengis khan may have killed millions
but at least he didnt smoke cannabis!
anonymous at 8 15
you might be able to write songs
but you know nothing about history
those countries asked to be invaded!
anonymous at 942
what about heyday?
anonymous at 9 43
thats it!
kilbey = hitler
im never ever reading his blog again
i promise!
anonymous at 956
genghis khan!
kilbey khan't!
anonymous at 10 32
i didnt read todays blog
hows matt davison?
anonymous at 10 37
grow up killer
the mongolian constitution guaranteed G K
the right to bear arms
and the right to bare arms
which was quite attractive given his triceps
anonymous at 10 38
hi great blog
i was wondering
would any of you like to buy some tupperware?
millystupperware.com
anyway
i just cant let anything go by can i?
you know im not perfect
look
im just another ratbag rabbitting away in cyber space
nothing on here is real
theres no real truth
none of it matters to the sea or the sky
you know they say that serpents lie in the deep black waters
the domain of hideous viperfish
some fish carry tiny lights to illuminate the inkiness
down there way down there
they dont care about what i write
its justa bit of fun to start the day
like meeting a half crazy old hermit
you gotta sift the tripe with the treasure
go ahead jump ship
i hear theres a lotta other guys
just like me out there
writing blogs pretty much like this one
i mean personally
if i was a reader n not a writer
i'd be reading the smacked bottom gurls blogge
but thats just me
im not really interested in the stoned ravings
of silly olde rockers
but im sure glad that you lot are
other wise
id be raving to myself
and theyd cart me away then
for sure
it amuses me that people read my blogge
looking for logic or reason or even-handedness
expecting me not to be bitter or repeat myself
after all im an olde drug casualty
im a flippin' rock musician
im a bloody pop lyricist
yet you tune in to my rave
expecting something everyday
that i aint ever gonna dish up
you gotta see the jokes on you
especially if ya want kilbey not to be kilbey
dudes im a bitchy gossipy cruel stupid angry prick
did i ever tell you that?
i hereby declare myself bitter
so from hereoninits pointless to write in
and besmirch my comments with this tiresome comment
of course im bitter...about some things, arent you?
isnt everybody?
if you say no youre a liar baby
cmon
if you read this blogge
you only gonna get the most bitter slanderous libellous bile
hey have you ever read paris spleen by baudelaire?
pure vitriol, pure bile
but you see
baudelaire contained other qualities as well
which he comingled with the bile
and that made him baudelaire
my bitterness makes me kilbey
along with a whole buncha otherstuff
so my patrons dont mind a bitter bitterness
as long as they get the poetry n history n humour
and they get to share my grief my worries my hopes n fears
ya see unlike most others
im also giving ya honesty
i say whatever i like
and i dont care whos reading
not my mother
my wife
my friends
enemies
guys in band
no
not even you sunshine
im nearly 53
i dont care anymore
dontcha see
(and i said all this before)
the act is gone
the mask has fallen
im the time being sweetheart
i aint no saint
i aint no journalist
i aint no reliable source of anything
im an opinionated pot smoking hippy bastard
im a socialist
im a almost-vegan
im a peace-nik
im a surrealist
im a funny n cranky olde sod
im a loving father
im a happily married
im a washed up rocker who still makes good records
i try n i try n i try so hard
i dig into my brain so deep to bring you the things i do
they may not be good
but i never condescend to you
i never just dish up bland blah
i never miss a day on my blogge
cos i couldnt think of anything "p c " to say
i let ya have what im thinking both barrels
as if you were here with me now
as if you were sitting in my kitchen
with brian eno playing on my ipodbox
and im drinkin' soy milk n goji juice
and soon i'll take the doodles to school
and then i'll swim a kilometre
and then im gonna post a copy of my book
to steffy fandorin cos he knows why
and then im gonna do chi gong
pay some bills
im gonna buy my mrs a coffee on the way home
im gonna come home re read this stupid entry
see if any body has commented
im gonna do a little this n that
and if i like it a bit more
oh ive gone off at a tangent
thats something else i do
cos im you know following my train of thought
you gotta roll with the punchbowls my friends
i can just imagine that i wrote something about genghis khan
in my style, natch
along the lines of
that genghis khan is a nassty little bugger
not content with totally fucking up ye olde china
the crazy tartar bastard went fer india
(isnt tartar something yer dog has round its teeth?)
any way olde ghengy boy wassa total bloodthirsty maniacal mofo
etc etc
and then
anonymous at 515 writes
ghengis khan was a good guy
youre only jealous n bitter you didnt invade europe like he did!
anonymous at 612 writes
get over it and lighten up
im tired of you bashing historical figures!
anonymous at 7 15
ghengis khan may have killed millions
but at least he didnt smoke cannabis!
anonymous at 8 15
you might be able to write songs
but you know nothing about history
those countries asked to be invaded!
anonymous at 942
what about heyday?
anonymous at 9 43
thats it!
kilbey = hitler
im never ever reading his blog again
i promise!
anonymous at 956
genghis khan!
kilbey khan't!
anonymous at 10 32
i didnt read todays blog
hows matt davison?
anonymous at 10 37
grow up killer
the mongolian constitution guaranteed G K
the right to bear arms
and the right to bare arms
which was quite attractive given his triceps
anonymous at 10 38
hi great blog
i was wondering
would any of you like to buy some tupperware?
millystupperware.com
anyway
i just cant let anything go by can i?
you know im not perfect
look
im just another ratbag rabbitting away in cyber space
nothing on here is real
theres no real truth
none of it matters to the sea or the sky
you know they say that serpents lie in the deep black waters
the domain of hideous viperfish
some fish carry tiny lights to illuminate the inkiness
down there way down there
they dont care about what i write
its justa bit of fun to start the day
like meeting a half crazy old hermit
you gotta sift the tripe with the treasure
go ahead jump ship
i hear theres a lotta other guys
just like me out there
writing blogs pretty much like this one
i mean personally
if i was a reader n not a writer
i'd be reading the smacked bottom gurls blogge
but thats just me
im not really interested in the stoned ravings
of silly olde rockers
but im sure glad that you lot are
other wise
id be raving to myself
and theyd cart me away then
for sure
Monday, March 26, 2007
bing went the strings of my heart
so much to say
but so lazy to type it all out
hey rusty
can we do a talking blogg or not?
rusty'll know
trust rusty!
rusty never sleeps
god all the stuff you probably wanna hear
fills me with inertia
like the new church double album of singles
i got one in the post
i tried to listen but i conked out after tear it all away
i did the single version of she never said
(only because its got a few little things the album doesnt)
i couldnt bear to hear unguarded whatsy
i listened to too fast for you...nice drumming ploogy!
then tear it all away....yeah that shoulda been a hit
its a million times better than unguarded thingy
then when fucking its no reason came on
i hit the ole eject button....fast!
i dont wanna hear all these songs in a row
come to think of it
i find it hard to listen to any of this stuff anymore
i wonder who in hell will buy it?
havent there already been a cuppla singles collexions?
did ya need another?
dont look at me
its nothing to do with me
im a forward looking guy
i dont revere this olde rubbish
i'd rather hear block once...or telepath
than all this olde singly malarkey
(blocks on the collection too, actually!)
and i tell ya one thing
the sk from 1981 woulda liked block better too
thats what i was trying to write
unguarded ding dong was just a accidental by product
in my searches to write a good song
and true to form
the public lapped up
that most melodramatic silly song cos it was "catchy"
everyone loved it from the word go
but i never did
i like how we do it now
relaxed n easy
but that olde version makes me cringe
especially when we keep getting offers
can you come on and do unguarded doo dah the olde way?
no sir, we can fucking not
but why why why
cos we dont wanna!
then you cant come on the blah blah show....
GOOD!
philistines everywhere
i wish theyd get their country back n piss off (a joke)
philistines trying to get ya to do something cheesy
hey check this:
im an artist
i dont fucking like speeches n awards
thats the stuff "straights" organise
when they wanna fit into our world
and thats what the idiots came up with
awards nights
so they can tame rocknroll by giving out their phoney useless awards
i won a few...i never picked em up
but i gottem
and then i sold the lot when i was on le gear
they were 1st thing to go
i dont need a"straight" awarding me a little statue
(unimaginative cheap plastic bullshit things..
youd feel stupid putting it up in yer house)
the same olde boozy pricks handing out their condescending nothing
the best album...how would they fucking know?
theres no best album...its all in individuals minds
theres a best selling album....(to the "straights" that IS the best)
the "straights" oh man i gotta laugh
you could put all the big wigs in the music biz
in a room
they couldnt come up with a simple tune between em
they cant play and they cant sing
and most of em are bloated grey haired wrecks
with all that red wine and meat showing on their red cheeks n jowls
all those boozy lunches they have
patting emselves on their pudgy backs
getting fat off musicians money
can you imagine that the top guys in medicine couldnt operate?
or the top guy in the airforce couldnt fly a plane?
or the head of the bakers guild couldnt put cream in a tart?
ha
but these guys
they are useless
opportunistic is the kindest thing you could say
im talking about all of em
everywhere
i met em
how embarrassing
meeting some tosser from blah blah blah records in new york
some hugely important exec
who has all the charm n eloquence of a pig farmer
bullying loudmouth idiot
or having dinner with rudy
the head of xyz records in germany
some olde fogey with a beautiful girlfriend about 50 years younger
gee i was really impressed..
what did she do, rudy...tuck you in at night?
im glad the record companies are going under
by the time they go under
therell probably all have merged into one
and the heaviness of that conglomerate of turkeys
will take em down down down
goodbye emi
goodbye cbs
goodbye carrere who never fucking paid us
goodbye stun records in new zealand who never fucking paid us
goodbye a-wrister...maybe olde whatsername'll can save yer ass
goodbye warners n mercury n capitol n all the rest
gee we're all broken up out here
as yer profits plunge
we're crying our eyes out
the more d.i.y. the church can become
the better i like it
i dont have to be embarrassed meeting em ever
nothing worse than youve finished a gig
and you gotta come off and meet some awful oaf from arista
hey steve this is lenny kaputnickstein from radio marketing..
hey steve this laura binglebanks from a and r in l.a.
hey steve this bobby krupptink the ceo of the canteen
on starfish tour
i had to meet em n meet em n meet em
o i was an obnoxious sod
playing on all their insecurities
making em feel i was in on some enormous joke that was on them
i was a total ratbag
and i despise myself for all the games i was playing back then
i mean humiliating some dope from a record company
aint gonna getcha into any heavens anywhere
but
they were the enemy to me
they were trying so hard to swallow me up
and contain my creativity and redirect it
where they thought fit
i had to fight em tooth n claw
well actually i fought em with
sarcasm
in -jokes
sulking
disappearing
not showing up
spreading rancour
talking about things they couldnt understand
(like history or poetry or religion)
can you really imagine the characters
who peopled the u.s. music biz back then...?
thank god i dont have to see anybody anymore
whoever the mediocre lot who put out our latest records out were
they didnt bother ever bothering us backstage
and thats just fine by me...
its funny
now im as olde as i am
occaisionally i do meet some of these rascals
and they assume ive mellowed with age
but i aint
im still looking at em with disdain
yeah yeah yeah
you really made it
yer the vice president of phucknuckle productions
and you pull down 500 k a year (you bastard!)
but you still cant play an instrument
your wifes only with you for the money
and your friends are all pricks like you
so i know you feel sorry for me
playing this half empty little theatre
but i feel sorry for you too
so its same as it ever was
i guess
i just get so angry that these guys are doing so well
parasites on musicians
swelling up with their ill gotten gains
it'll be a relief to see the end of em
soon
real soon!
but so lazy to type it all out
hey rusty
can we do a talking blogg or not?
rusty'll know
trust rusty!
rusty never sleeps
god all the stuff you probably wanna hear
fills me with inertia
like the new church double album of singles
i got one in the post
i tried to listen but i conked out after tear it all away
i did the single version of she never said
(only because its got a few little things the album doesnt)
i couldnt bear to hear unguarded whatsy
i listened to too fast for you...nice drumming ploogy!
then tear it all away....yeah that shoulda been a hit
its a million times better than unguarded thingy
then when fucking its no reason came on
i hit the ole eject button....fast!
i dont wanna hear all these songs in a row
come to think of it
i find it hard to listen to any of this stuff anymore
i wonder who in hell will buy it?
havent there already been a cuppla singles collexions?
did ya need another?
dont look at me
its nothing to do with me
im a forward looking guy
i dont revere this olde rubbish
i'd rather hear block once...or telepath
than all this olde singly malarkey
(blocks on the collection too, actually!)
and i tell ya one thing
the sk from 1981 woulda liked block better too
thats what i was trying to write
unguarded ding dong was just a accidental by product
in my searches to write a good song
and true to form
the public lapped up
that most melodramatic silly song cos it was "catchy"
everyone loved it from the word go
but i never did
i like how we do it now
relaxed n easy
but that olde version makes me cringe
especially when we keep getting offers
can you come on and do unguarded doo dah the olde way?
no sir, we can fucking not
but why why why
cos we dont wanna!
then you cant come on the blah blah show....
GOOD!
philistines everywhere
i wish theyd get their country back n piss off (a joke)
philistines trying to get ya to do something cheesy
hey check this:
im an artist
i dont fucking like speeches n awards
thats the stuff "straights" organise
when they wanna fit into our world
and thats what the idiots came up with
awards nights
so they can tame rocknroll by giving out their phoney useless awards
i won a few...i never picked em up
but i gottem
and then i sold the lot when i was on le gear
they were 1st thing to go
i dont need a"straight" awarding me a little statue
(unimaginative cheap plastic bullshit things..
youd feel stupid putting it up in yer house)
the same olde boozy pricks handing out their condescending nothing
the best album...how would they fucking know?
theres no best album...its all in individuals minds
theres a best selling album....(to the "straights" that IS the best)
the "straights" oh man i gotta laugh
you could put all the big wigs in the music biz
in a room
they couldnt come up with a simple tune between em
they cant play and they cant sing
and most of em are bloated grey haired wrecks
with all that red wine and meat showing on their red cheeks n jowls
all those boozy lunches they have
patting emselves on their pudgy backs
getting fat off musicians money
can you imagine that the top guys in medicine couldnt operate?
or the top guy in the airforce couldnt fly a plane?
or the head of the bakers guild couldnt put cream in a tart?
ha
but these guys
they are useless
opportunistic is the kindest thing you could say
im talking about all of em
everywhere
i met em
how embarrassing
meeting some tosser from blah blah blah records in new york
some hugely important exec
who has all the charm n eloquence of a pig farmer
bullying loudmouth idiot
or having dinner with rudy
the head of xyz records in germany
some olde fogey with a beautiful girlfriend about 50 years younger
gee i was really impressed..
what did she do, rudy...tuck you in at night?
im glad the record companies are going under
by the time they go under
therell probably all have merged into one
and the heaviness of that conglomerate of turkeys
will take em down down down
goodbye emi
goodbye cbs
goodbye carrere who never fucking paid us
goodbye stun records in new zealand who never fucking paid us
goodbye a-wrister...maybe olde whatsername'll can save yer ass
goodbye warners n mercury n capitol n all the rest
gee we're all broken up out here
as yer profits plunge
we're crying our eyes out
the more d.i.y. the church can become
the better i like it
i dont have to be embarrassed meeting em ever
nothing worse than youve finished a gig
and you gotta come off and meet some awful oaf from arista
hey steve this is lenny kaputnickstein from radio marketing..
hey steve this laura binglebanks from a and r in l.a.
hey steve this bobby krupptink the ceo of the canteen
on starfish tour
i had to meet em n meet em n meet em
o i was an obnoxious sod
playing on all their insecurities
making em feel i was in on some enormous joke that was on them
i was a total ratbag
and i despise myself for all the games i was playing back then
i mean humiliating some dope from a record company
aint gonna getcha into any heavens anywhere
but
they were the enemy to me
they were trying so hard to swallow me up
and contain my creativity and redirect it
where they thought fit
i had to fight em tooth n claw
well actually i fought em with
sarcasm
in -jokes
sulking
disappearing
not showing up
spreading rancour
talking about things they couldnt understand
(like history or poetry or religion)
can you really imagine the characters
who peopled the u.s. music biz back then...?
thank god i dont have to see anybody anymore
whoever the mediocre lot who put out our latest records out were
they didnt bother ever bothering us backstage
and thats just fine by me...
its funny
now im as olde as i am
occaisionally i do meet some of these rascals
and they assume ive mellowed with age
but i aint
im still looking at em with disdain
yeah yeah yeah
you really made it
yer the vice president of phucknuckle productions
and you pull down 500 k a year (you bastard!)
but you still cant play an instrument
your wifes only with you for the money
and your friends are all pricks like you
so i know you feel sorry for me
playing this half empty little theatre
but i feel sorry for you too
so its same as it ever was
i guess
i just get so angry that these guys are doing so well
parasites on musicians
swelling up with their ill gotten gains
it'll be a relief to see the end of em
soon
real soon!
Sunday, March 25, 2007
autumn almanac
daylife savings are over
life saviours pack their things and exit
in a forest somewhere old man winter leans
towards the southern hemisphere
i wake up this morning to a white world
the sky outside
my sleeping wife wth her mauve eyelids
my american wife with her own joys n sorrows
my wife n i drinking riccadonna wine + ! + ?
oh watching the black rain fall from our sunroom
my wife likes her riccadonna with red cordial n ice in it
oh thats it
be a nice wife, nk...
mmmm
from chapterhouse
"blind angel, move thru me
dangerous vacuous bliss"
yes dangerous vacuous bliss
but bliss is bliss
the hours of the night melt away
the black rain continues
we drift around the house
like in a waking dream
oh come over here baby
the outside has completely vanished
within
inside a reduced world
where i forget myself
i get out of step with it all
i go off in tangents
i drift n i drift
then i hurl down the barrel into sharp focus
where a halo of light pounds
time becomes quite meaningless
its out there passing in the real world
but in my skull the minutes linger
music bounces off my ears
everything is sensitive
a taxi pulls up in the street outside
but it might as well be another world
the brake lights glow in the black rainy night
someone jumps in our out
i cant tell
i see things
but i cant decipher any order
i cant see any point
our candles illuminate the darkness
i quaff down wine like water
nothing has any effect on me sometimes
her prettiness makes me angry somewhere inside
i feel like a very nasty cat looking at a little birdie
oh baby youre so pretty.....ggrrrrrrr
oh you mangey panther
oh you cruel little boy
who are you now time being
just a man
just a man
in darkness
in sweet oblivion
lost my head
lost my mind
falling over n over
amen
life saviours pack their things and exit
in a forest somewhere old man winter leans
towards the southern hemisphere
i wake up this morning to a white world
the sky outside
my sleeping wife wth her mauve eyelids
my american wife with her own joys n sorrows
my wife n i drinking riccadonna wine + ! + ?
oh watching the black rain fall from our sunroom
my wife likes her riccadonna with red cordial n ice in it
oh thats it
be a nice wife, nk...
mmmm
from chapterhouse
"blind angel, move thru me
dangerous vacuous bliss"
yes dangerous vacuous bliss
but bliss is bliss
the hours of the night melt away
the black rain continues
we drift around the house
like in a waking dream
oh come over here baby
the outside has completely vanished
within
inside a reduced world
where i forget myself
i get out of step with it all
i go off in tangents
i drift n i drift
then i hurl down the barrel into sharp focus
where a halo of light pounds
time becomes quite meaningless
its out there passing in the real world
but in my skull the minutes linger
music bounces off my ears
everything is sensitive
a taxi pulls up in the street outside
but it might as well be another world
the brake lights glow in the black rainy night
someone jumps in our out
i cant tell
i see things
but i cant decipher any order
i cant see any point
our candles illuminate the darkness
i quaff down wine like water
nothing has any effect on me sometimes
her prettiness makes me angry somewhere inside
i feel like a very nasty cat looking at a little birdie
oh baby youre so pretty.....ggrrrrrrr
oh you mangey panther
oh you cruel little boy
who are you now time being
just a man
just a man
in darkness
in sweet oblivion
lost my head
lost my mind
falling over n over
amen
Saturday, March 24, 2007
baubles, bangles and bright shiny beads
the multiverse
everything moving at once
all history a simultaneous fiction
all going on together
this is the beings gift and his punishment
i cant stop it
i cant stop it happening
i cant stop it happening to me
as the waves unfold themselves across this lake
i see the patterns
i see the connection
i cant tell you what it is
there are no words for it
sometimes you see trees moving in the wind
the leaves are pixels away from a totally pointilistic scramble
look at the rooftops
i can see the prana coiling there
rising like a heat haze
i feel the words all lined up in my mind
huge chunks of prose appear in my mind fully formed
my muse keeps sending me stuff
i do more and more yoga
my muse becomes clearer and clearer
she says do something perfect
she says bye bye baby come back soon
anytime anyhow anywhere
and i type type type
choosing the symbols n spaces
trying to turn you on so hard
writing about writing
this flood of disinformation
nothing is real n nothing matters
but then howcome it hurts?
everything so so simple
its so easy
ah six deep easy breaths
somedays i feel so lucky
living this life like this
i see my daughters
the line of their necks n jaws
their straight backs
their melodious voices
this is real success
the warm weather holds me
a delicious breeze wafts thru the house
from sunroom to kitchen cool fingers of air
theres a tibetan guy next door and each morning n evening
he burns such lovely incense in his garden
his lovely garden with its white flowers and elephant gods n buddhas
birdies go tweet tweet tweet
i swim n i do some work
but this work aint work
and i feel lucky
and i appreciate my freedom
and i do wish it could be like this for you too
because sitting in an office
under those 'orrible lights
staring at a computer for hours n hours
is not what this earth n life are for
someone telling ya what to do
bring me this file
reconcile these books
deliver these sprockets
stack those cans
fetch those tiles
finish your report
report to the main entrance
dig that hole
cook that soup
drive that cab (hi glenny n georgie)
bang in that nail
polish those nails
check out that client
stay back late
come in early
better do some work on saturday too
like my dadd-o
always worked till 3 on saturday
but something must be wrong with me
i say to myself very early on
steven....this..uh..work thing...its not good for us
i say to myself
yes i concur ;must avoid this thing called work
and then i was always disappointed
when my mum n dad
and my numerous uncles n aunties
couldnt understand that my incipient geniushood
meant to me at least
i should be spared from working
but all these post war pommies
they were all obsessed by work
talk about protestant work ethic
the best thing you could say about some geezer
was that he was a hard worker
you never heard em say that someone was a great poet
or that he had prose dripping from his fingers day n night
you never heard em say
well that little steven hes lazy but hes loaded with charisma
or
i bet he'll grow up n chart the empty places with music
the fifties were slim pickings for us proto hippies
my auntie lou didnt fucking care about rimbaud or dylan thomas
she wanted you to wash behind yer ears
take yer shoes off
and
BEHAVE!
which actually meant
being some kinda thing i was never meant to be
and all my nascent utterings were deemed cheeky
people seemed angry with me right from the word go
and i can understand it
i wanted to get away from myself the moment i could think
(hence the gear)
i was just too much
i was all over the shop
a smartarse little freckle faced spoilt brat
believe it or not...
(t.t.b. subscribers : oh we can believe it !)
but then my auntie may treated me differently
i know i told ya about her
she treated me the way i thought i deserved to be treated
i mean she didnt let me get away with any old malarkey
she wasnt a pushover by any means
but she talked to me
and she listened to me
and she listened to my questions
and she tried to explain
oh i thought she was so glamourous
with her jet black hair n bright red lipstick
to me she was so hollywood
and she told me she was 21
but she was probably nearer to my age now
her husband norm was a carpenter
and they lived in a commission house
but to me aunty may was the bees knees
a dreamy lady
a lady who loved films n musicals
and she took me seriously
she could see me as i am now i swear
oh how the man ached
trapped inside the boy
aunty may was always swallowing these powders
for her "headaches"
and then having a "lie down"
this was usually every day
i have sinced learned that these powders
vincents a.p.c i think they may have been called
contained heavy barbituates and/or opioids
and were totally n viciously addictive
although the ladies who took em didnt probably understand
what was happoening to em...
i mean
it was cheap n legal
you could buy these things at the local shop
and she ripped open a packet
there was like 10 in a box
and there was this white powder
and shed lift it up
n swallow it down
followed by a glass of water
and id say doesnt it taste 'orrible
and shed say yeah
but also a slight kinda satisfied smile too
and there you go
is that why aunty may was so dreamy
and she had her laydowns in her cool green darkened bedroom
and she had a dolly on her bed too
aunty may had 2 grown up sons of her own
but she made me feel like her no. 3
and i slept next to her every afternoon
and then we'd get up
while she made dinner
and we waited for les n joyce to come n pick me up afterwork
my favourite was tomato soup with buttered bread
as a child i was always looking for those adults who could understand
but in those days it wasnt like now
they werent encouraging individuality back then
believe me
anyway
i got my shipment of fruit machine
essays on rock
my new book
its only short
28 pages or so
im gonna be selling it on cherch murch
and at a show near you soon
graham nunn
the head of the sk poetry steering committee
was the prime mover behind this one
and we do must humbly thank him
for having caused it to happen
its basically a 28 page stream o sub-consciousness
my ramblings on rocknroll
in which i seem to target such unlikely villains
as elo
and guys with keith richards hair-dos
anyway
its written a la this very blogge
which has now given me a dependable n recognizable device
to hide behind
so from no on
i can bang stuff out
with no punctuation
no paragraphs
etc
and go
well thats what i do!
still i reckon you'll enjoy fruit machine
itll probably be a text book in years to come
how many rockers do ya know
who can write about rock as well
there aint that many
ian hunters book...
oooh you should find that
thats a great book
diary of a rocknroll star...wow!
you read that and youve almost done it yerself
even before i almost did do it myself
i felt that by reading ians book
i understood what it was like
touring the states
not all beer n skittles
refreshingly candid
go on
get one on amazon
david bowies in it n everything
so i gotta go now
gotta enjoy my saturday
if i can....
everything moving at once
all history a simultaneous fiction
all going on together
this is the beings gift and his punishment
i cant stop it
i cant stop it happening
i cant stop it happening to me
as the waves unfold themselves across this lake
i see the patterns
i see the connection
i cant tell you what it is
there are no words for it
sometimes you see trees moving in the wind
the leaves are pixels away from a totally pointilistic scramble
look at the rooftops
i can see the prana coiling there
rising like a heat haze
i feel the words all lined up in my mind
huge chunks of prose appear in my mind fully formed
my muse keeps sending me stuff
i do more and more yoga
my muse becomes clearer and clearer
she says do something perfect
she says bye bye baby come back soon
anytime anyhow anywhere
and i type type type
choosing the symbols n spaces
trying to turn you on so hard
writing about writing
this flood of disinformation
nothing is real n nothing matters
but then howcome it hurts?
everything so so simple
its so easy
ah six deep easy breaths
somedays i feel so lucky
living this life like this
i see my daughters
the line of their necks n jaws
their straight backs
their melodious voices
this is real success
the warm weather holds me
a delicious breeze wafts thru the house
from sunroom to kitchen cool fingers of air
theres a tibetan guy next door and each morning n evening
he burns such lovely incense in his garden
his lovely garden with its white flowers and elephant gods n buddhas
birdies go tweet tweet tweet
i swim n i do some work
but this work aint work
and i feel lucky
and i appreciate my freedom
and i do wish it could be like this for you too
because sitting in an office
under those 'orrible lights
staring at a computer for hours n hours
is not what this earth n life are for
someone telling ya what to do
bring me this file
reconcile these books
deliver these sprockets
stack those cans
fetch those tiles
finish your report
report to the main entrance
dig that hole
cook that soup
drive that cab (hi glenny n georgie)
bang in that nail
polish those nails
check out that client
stay back late
come in early
better do some work on saturday too
like my dadd-o
always worked till 3 on saturday
but something must be wrong with me
i say to myself very early on
steven....this..uh..work thing...its not good for us
i say to myself
yes i concur ;must avoid this thing called work
and then i was always disappointed
when my mum n dad
and my numerous uncles n aunties
couldnt understand that my incipient geniushood
meant to me at least
i should be spared from working
but all these post war pommies
they were all obsessed by work
talk about protestant work ethic
the best thing you could say about some geezer
was that he was a hard worker
you never heard em say that someone was a great poet
or that he had prose dripping from his fingers day n night
you never heard em say
well that little steven hes lazy but hes loaded with charisma
or
i bet he'll grow up n chart the empty places with music
the fifties were slim pickings for us proto hippies
my auntie lou didnt fucking care about rimbaud or dylan thomas
she wanted you to wash behind yer ears
take yer shoes off
and
BEHAVE!
which actually meant
being some kinda thing i was never meant to be
and all my nascent utterings were deemed cheeky
people seemed angry with me right from the word go
and i can understand it
i wanted to get away from myself the moment i could think
(hence the gear)
i was just too much
i was all over the shop
a smartarse little freckle faced spoilt brat
believe it or not...
(t.t.b. subscribers : oh we can believe it !)
but then my auntie may treated me differently
i know i told ya about her
she treated me the way i thought i deserved to be treated
i mean she didnt let me get away with any old malarkey
she wasnt a pushover by any means
but she talked to me
and she listened to me
and she listened to my questions
and she tried to explain
oh i thought she was so glamourous
with her jet black hair n bright red lipstick
to me she was so hollywood
and she told me she was 21
but she was probably nearer to my age now
her husband norm was a carpenter
and they lived in a commission house
but to me aunty may was the bees knees
a dreamy lady
a lady who loved films n musicals
and she took me seriously
she could see me as i am now i swear
oh how the man ached
trapped inside the boy
aunty may was always swallowing these powders
for her "headaches"
and then having a "lie down"
this was usually every day
i have sinced learned that these powders
vincents a.p.c i think they may have been called
contained heavy barbituates and/or opioids
and were totally n viciously addictive
although the ladies who took em didnt probably understand
what was happoening to em...
i mean
it was cheap n legal
you could buy these things at the local shop
and she ripped open a packet
there was like 10 in a box
and there was this white powder
and shed lift it up
n swallow it down
followed by a glass of water
and id say doesnt it taste 'orrible
and shed say yeah
but also a slight kinda satisfied smile too
and there you go
is that why aunty may was so dreamy
and she had her laydowns in her cool green darkened bedroom
and she had a dolly on her bed too
aunty may had 2 grown up sons of her own
but she made me feel like her no. 3
and i slept next to her every afternoon
and then we'd get up
while she made dinner
and we waited for les n joyce to come n pick me up afterwork
my favourite was tomato soup with buttered bread
as a child i was always looking for those adults who could understand
but in those days it wasnt like now
they werent encouraging individuality back then
believe me
anyway
i got my shipment of fruit machine
essays on rock
my new book
its only short
28 pages or so
im gonna be selling it on cherch murch
and at a show near you soon
graham nunn
the head of the sk poetry steering committee
was the prime mover behind this one
and we do must humbly thank him
for having caused it to happen
its basically a 28 page stream o sub-consciousness
my ramblings on rocknroll
in which i seem to target such unlikely villains
as elo
and guys with keith richards hair-dos
anyway
its written a la this very blogge
which has now given me a dependable n recognizable device
to hide behind
so from no on
i can bang stuff out
with no punctuation
no paragraphs
etc
and go
well thats what i do!
still i reckon you'll enjoy fruit machine
itll probably be a text book in years to come
how many rockers do ya know
who can write about rock as well
there aint that many
ian hunters book...
oooh you should find that
thats a great book
diary of a rocknroll star...wow!
you read that and youve almost done it yerself
even before i almost did do it myself
i felt that by reading ians book
i understood what it was like
touring the states
not all beer n skittles
refreshingly candid
go on
get one on amazon
david bowies in it n everything
so i gotta go now
gotta enjoy my saturday
if i can....
Friday, March 23, 2007
dreamhusband
barry mundi
dreamhusband
his wife kisses his back
youve been such a good boy
oh baby oh baby oh baby
she crouches over him kissing his back
and whispering things
the air flows through their room like silk
and the air evaporates the moisture on them
and they feel so cool so cool
oh you saint of a man barry mundi
oh how your sweet wife adores thee
kiss you so softly
her blonde hair dangles on your shoulders
her kisses traverse your back
insinuating themselves into your spine and chakras
oh i love you baby
she says against your skin so only god can hear
delightful woman breathes summer into your skin
as you lie there
as you lie there today in the autumnal sun
as you lie face down on your bed
and your little wife kiss kiss caress caress
drift now drift
your wife opens your flesh
and you slip out at once
and fly out of the room
somewhere indefinable
if you could define this place
you would be the greatest of all poets
and the master of all mathematicians
music is there for the taking
and art
oh if you could bring one picture back
sentient colour implodes in divine symmetry
reds becoming purple becoming black becoming white
ah but theres the rub
so hard to bring it all back home
try now try
try to steal these treasures
suddenly its all gone
and youre back in youre room
and shes still kissing your back
and you can remember the impressions
but not the particulars
you hear the wonder of the music
but not any of the notes
empty-handed
poor dreamhusband
barry mundi
dreamhusband
his wife kisses his back
youve been such a good boy
oh baby oh baby oh baby
she crouches over him kissing his back
and whispering things
the air flows through their room like silk
and the air evaporates the moisture on them
and they feel so cool so cool
oh you saint of a man barry mundi
oh how your sweet wife adores thee
kiss you so softly
her blonde hair dangles on your shoulders
her kisses traverse your back
insinuating themselves into your spine and chakras
oh i love you baby
she says against your skin so only god can hear
delightful woman breathes summer into your skin
as you lie there
as you lie there today in the autumnal sun
as you lie face down on your bed
and your little wife kiss kiss caress caress
drift now drift
your wife opens your flesh
and you slip out at once
and fly out of the room
somewhere indefinable
if you could define this place
you would be the greatest of all poets
and the master of all mathematicians
music is there for the taking
and art
oh if you could bring one picture back
sentient colour implodes in divine symmetry
reds becoming purple becoming black becoming white
ah but theres the rub
so hard to bring it all back home
try now try
try to steal these treasures
suddenly its all gone
and youre back in youre room
and shes still kissing your back
and you can remember the impressions
but not the particulars
you hear the wonder of the music
but not any of the notes
empty-handed
poor dreamhusband
barry mundi
Thursday, March 22, 2007
velocity not speed
i am the blogge king
i can do anything
warm humid morning here in n bondi
birds twitter n tweat outside
as it dawns
everyone still sleeping
still dreaming
reluctant to rise
sydney tries to squeeze another 10 minutes outta the night
dreaming their big time dreams
today i am filled with no rancour
i feel even
content
let em do whatever they will
this is all an obstacle course
you cant sort it out
you jusy gotta get thru
its 2007 and weve got ipods
that can hold 5 million songs
and weve the iraqi "war" dragging on n on
why is australia in there?
is there an australian reading my blogge today
who can tell me why our soldiers in baghdaddy
are protecting these shores?
ha ha
you just gotta tell a big enough lie
i cannot believe the standard of the politicians these days
the druid here
the "premier" (u.s. = governor)
of nsw
was on telly the other night
his speech
his oratory skills
his manner
were like an awkward 8 year old
reading his composition to the D class
for fucksake
is that the best we got?
this bumbling mumbling stumbling oaf
is the premier of australias most important state?
(mainly because it contains tim powles and i)
the man has all the charisma of cold garlic bread
whatever this guy does
i know i could do it a million times better
and i can pronounce long words
write my own speeches
come up with new unusual attacks on the opponents
be so photogenic that all the olde dears'll gimme their vote
i wont toe that party line
i'll give all that money earmarked for boring stuff
(eg roads dams etc)
and funnel it into the sk foundation
a non-prophet tax-free scheme
to promote olde renaissance space rockers
i mean wouldnt you rather have me living it large
than another fucking road somewhere in the country
sod it
spend the money fixing bondi up
turn the parking meters into poker machines
5 bucks for a 10 minute stay
or you could win 100 bucks in 2 dollar coins
have some surrealist meters
so you stick youre money in and they say things like
bugger off and park somewhere else, you yuppie
or
we live in the void of metamorpheses
or
what is the sound of one wheel parking
i dunno
get rid of all those nasty parking inspectahs
replace em with clowns
let people park where they want
1st in, 1st served
spend those traitorous bastards salaries
on pavement artists
gimme some time to think em all up
give people some situationist surprises in their lives
close down all the butchers shops
turn them into temples for arcane gods
put some funny signs on the beach
like
ooh i wouldnt swim today, youll probably drown
or
beware! sharks prefer irish tourists!
or
dont feed the killer whales
or
if stung by jellyfish, kiss arse goodbye
and you know translate them into some useful languages
like latin
or sumerian
or icelandic
with accompanying diagrams
eg a great white swallowing paddy backpacker n winking
an idea i thought of when i was a wee kid
could now be instigated
on a certain day of the week
all women must walk around naked
no hiding at home there
just act normally
except that youll be totally starkers
i think a few "children should be seen n not heard" days too
and the occaisional "not seen or heard "day as well
now check out this dudes name
morris iemma
i mean iemmas kinda ok in a weird fucking way
but morris?
a premier should be called something...
something masculine yet sensitive
something classic but not olde
a fine masculine name
with an inferior feminine equivalent
a loyal royal name
its coming to me...
itsa coincidence
but whaddya think of ...
steven
you can call him steve for short if you wanna be familiar
or even stevo if you play footy together
or even stevie boy if you got him some good news
or you can call him steven
if youre his mother brother or wife
so just with this one change
steve iemma
oh i kinda dig that
stevo iemma ...wow nearly all the vowels, you owls
i got so many suggestions its a burden to me
but i get infuriated that we just couldnt have
just a generally more "with-it" geezer
for such a groovy, merciless, suntanned, wicked ,"with-it"place
as nsw
i know you laugh
but i ask you
again
could i do a worse job?
we got inflation deflation stagnation across this nation
we got a higher and a lower blah blah blahs than anywhere else
we should invade the good bits of qld and vic
(dont fuckin worry melbourne then! ha ha!)
we should annex the rest of aust(whatever that means)
we should sink new zealand
get rid of all those hammy actors n tribute bands
eg not armageddon but close
we should tow tasmania into shore once n for all
after all they gave us an encore at the wino-ree gig..
it can join up with melbourne
as a place to send convicts gooseballs n ex-premiers
we should disarm the army
un-knave the navy
the disappeared into thin airforce
make suits a misdemeanour
fine those smarmy bastards dressing up to impress people
a huge tax on all lexi, beemers, mercs, jaggys,
except my own lamborgini station wagon
with retro rockets
anyway
in nsw you got 2 choices
ones a total dullard
the other is the nastiest sneakiest ratbag ever
a real sniggering mudslinging effeminate snobby turkey
hes got a phd in muckraking
and his smirking visage is truly gruesome
great choice
a choice between nothin n nothin
is this demockracy?
bullshit
i can do anything
warm humid morning here in n bondi
birds twitter n tweat outside
as it dawns
everyone still sleeping
still dreaming
reluctant to rise
sydney tries to squeeze another 10 minutes outta the night
dreaming their big time dreams
today i am filled with no rancour
i feel even
content
let em do whatever they will
this is all an obstacle course
you cant sort it out
you jusy gotta get thru
its 2007 and weve got ipods
that can hold 5 million songs
and weve the iraqi "war" dragging on n on
why is australia in there?
is there an australian reading my blogge today
who can tell me why our soldiers in baghdaddy
are protecting these shores?
ha ha
you just gotta tell a big enough lie
i cannot believe the standard of the politicians these days
the druid here
the "premier" (u.s. = governor)
of nsw
was on telly the other night
his speech
his oratory skills
his manner
were like an awkward 8 year old
reading his composition to the D class
for fucksake
is that the best we got?
this bumbling mumbling stumbling oaf
is the premier of australias most important state?
(mainly because it contains tim powles and i)
the man has all the charisma of cold garlic bread
whatever this guy does
i know i could do it a million times better
and i can pronounce long words
write my own speeches
come up with new unusual attacks on the opponents
be so photogenic that all the olde dears'll gimme their vote
i wont toe that party line
i'll give all that money earmarked for boring stuff
(eg roads dams etc)
and funnel it into the sk foundation
a non-prophet tax-free scheme
to promote olde renaissance space rockers
i mean wouldnt you rather have me living it large
than another fucking road somewhere in the country
sod it
spend the money fixing bondi up
turn the parking meters into poker machines
5 bucks for a 10 minute stay
or you could win 100 bucks in 2 dollar coins
have some surrealist meters
so you stick youre money in and they say things like
bugger off and park somewhere else, you yuppie
or
we live in the void of metamorpheses
or
what is the sound of one wheel parking
i dunno
get rid of all those nasty parking inspectahs
replace em with clowns
let people park where they want
1st in, 1st served
spend those traitorous bastards salaries
on pavement artists
gimme some time to think em all up
give people some situationist surprises in their lives
close down all the butchers shops
turn them into temples for arcane gods
put some funny signs on the beach
like
ooh i wouldnt swim today, youll probably drown
or
beware! sharks prefer irish tourists!
or
dont feed the killer whales
or
if stung by jellyfish, kiss arse goodbye
and you know translate them into some useful languages
like latin
or sumerian
or icelandic
with accompanying diagrams
eg a great white swallowing paddy backpacker n winking
an idea i thought of when i was a wee kid
could now be instigated
on a certain day of the week
all women must walk around naked
no hiding at home there
just act normally
except that youll be totally starkers
i think a few "children should be seen n not heard" days too
and the occaisional "not seen or heard "day as well
now check out this dudes name
morris iemma
i mean iemmas kinda ok in a weird fucking way
but morris?
a premier should be called something...
something masculine yet sensitive
something classic but not olde
a fine masculine name
with an inferior feminine equivalent
a loyal royal name
its coming to me...
itsa coincidence
but whaddya think of ...
steven
you can call him steve for short if you wanna be familiar
or even stevo if you play footy together
or even stevie boy if you got him some good news
or you can call him steven
if youre his mother brother or wife
so just with this one change
steve iemma
oh i kinda dig that
stevo iemma ...wow nearly all the vowels, you owls
i got so many suggestions its a burden to me
but i get infuriated that we just couldnt have
just a generally more "with-it" geezer
for such a groovy, merciless, suntanned, wicked ,"with-it"place
as nsw
i know you laugh
but i ask you
again
could i do a worse job?
we got inflation deflation stagnation across this nation
we got a higher and a lower blah blah blahs than anywhere else
we should invade the good bits of qld and vic
(dont fuckin worry melbourne then! ha ha!)
we should annex the rest of aust(whatever that means)
we should sink new zealand
get rid of all those hammy actors n tribute bands
eg not armageddon but close
we should tow tasmania into shore once n for all
after all they gave us an encore at the wino-ree gig..
it can join up with melbourne
as a place to send convicts gooseballs n ex-premiers
we should disarm the army
un-knave the navy
the disappeared into thin airforce
make suits a misdemeanour
fine those smarmy bastards dressing up to impress people
a huge tax on all lexi, beemers, mercs, jaggys,
except my own lamborgini station wagon
with retro rockets
anyway
in nsw you got 2 choices
ones a total dullard
the other is the nastiest sneakiest ratbag ever
a real sniggering mudslinging effeminate snobby turkey
hes got a phd in muckraking
and his smirking visage is truly gruesome
great choice
a choice between nothin n nothin
is this demockracy?
bullshit
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
a childrens story
chapter 13
poor little steven knew he was good and lost now
a blackbird landed on a branch in a tree overhead
the same one that had followed him all the way thru the snow
as he had been trying to find his uncles house
"oh go away you stupid thing" he muttered to the bird
and it cocked its head on one side as if it were listening
steven didnt know that the bird was once a child
and that all the creatures in this wood
were children
turned into animals and birds
and grey fish that swam in the brooks
the small black bird could almost still remember his life back then
his other life....
but it seemed oh so long ago now
steven cowered into the shadow of a pinetree full of snow
and wondered and wondered
he had only a few hours left
before this short day would die
and the long night would fall down
but he was so cold and numb
that he couldnt almost be bothered caring anymore
he leant up against the tree
and ate the last of the food his mother had prepared for him
it was then his eyes were filled with warm tears
when he thought of his mother
and how she would be out looking for him
and wondering where...
his thoughts were interrupted by a sound in the forest around him
he looked up and saw a deer with tears in its eyes
and the rabbits and the red fox
the raven and the owl and the winding adder
and all wept along with him
yes even the snake and birds
for such things are possible for enchanted creatures
"oh creatures can you hear me ?" he wondered out loud
although none gave any sign to show they had heard
the boy realised they could understand his words
he knew this because this was a magical forest
and already a dark magic was falling down upon him
although he had no idea what was happening
but already a sorcery was changing him
so slowly at first...
so slowly you couldnt even tell...
the red fox nuzzled at his hand
and then
pushing him
pushing him away
"no , no i dont want to go" cried the boy
but the fox gently pushed at him nevertheless
and the deer nudged him softly with her beautiful head
and her eyes full of sympathy
but steven didnt want to leave now
now the magic was working upon him
he was feeling strangely good
strangely alive
as if he...
as if he could scale trees so easily
or hold his breath and swim forever in the frozen over river
or as if he could float on the icy air with eyes that see everything
and he wanted to glide into the cold earth and sleep
until spring came again adorned with flowers and warm zephyrs
and he knew how it felt to run through the fields
racing over grass and stone...
but the creatures implored him silently with their eyes
and the fox and the deer still gently urged him up and away
"whats this ?" asked the boy drunk with the forests enchantment
"dont you want to share your forest with me?"
still the creatures strove to make him go
but he swore at them and brandished a stick
and eventually they reluctantly, it seemed, departed
after a while
he felt a delicious languidness come upon him
and he sat down under the tree
on a mossy rock
and he fell into a deep deep slumber
poor little steven knew he was good and lost now
a blackbird landed on a branch in a tree overhead
the same one that had followed him all the way thru the snow
as he had been trying to find his uncles house
"oh go away you stupid thing" he muttered to the bird
and it cocked its head on one side as if it were listening
steven didnt know that the bird was once a child
and that all the creatures in this wood
were children
turned into animals and birds
and grey fish that swam in the brooks
the small black bird could almost still remember his life back then
his other life....
but it seemed oh so long ago now
steven cowered into the shadow of a pinetree full of snow
and wondered and wondered
he had only a few hours left
before this short day would die
and the long night would fall down
but he was so cold and numb
that he couldnt almost be bothered caring anymore
he leant up against the tree
and ate the last of the food his mother had prepared for him
it was then his eyes were filled with warm tears
when he thought of his mother
and how she would be out looking for him
and wondering where...
his thoughts were interrupted by a sound in the forest around him
he looked up and saw a deer with tears in its eyes
and the rabbits and the red fox
the raven and the owl and the winding adder
and all wept along with him
yes even the snake and birds
for such things are possible for enchanted creatures
"oh creatures can you hear me ?" he wondered out loud
although none gave any sign to show they had heard
the boy realised they could understand his words
he knew this because this was a magical forest
and already a dark magic was falling down upon him
although he had no idea what was happening
but already a sorcery was changing him
so slowly at first...
so slowly you couldnt even tell...
the red fox nuzzled at his hand
and then
pushing him
pushing him away
"no , no i dont want to go" cried the boy
but the fox gently pushed at him nevertheless
and the deer nudged him softly with her beautiful head
and her eyes full of sympathy
but steven didnt want to leave now
now the magic was working upon him
he was feeling strangely good
strangely alive
as if he...
as if he could scale trees so easily
or hold his breath and swim forever in the frozen over river
or as if he could float on the icy air with eyes that see everything
and he wanted to glide into the cold earth and sleep
until spring came again adorned with flowers and warm zephyrs
and he knew how it felt to run through the fields
racing over grass and stone...
but the creatures implored him silently with their eyes
and the fox and the deer still gently urged him up and away
"whats this ?" asked the boy drunk with the forests enchantment
"dont you want to share your forest with me?"
still the creatures strove to make him go
but he swore at them and brandished a stick
and eventually they reluctantly, it seemed, departed
after a while
he felt a delicious languidness come upon him
and he sat down under the tree
on a mossy rock
and he fell into a deep deep slumber
nettle soup
the countryside
the black lakes
the mute farmers toiling in the fields
small graveyards and white churches
cuckoos calling in the dusk
oh where does that little path lead ?
oh where can we be ?
in the forest
wandering again in this forest
on this little path
the air goes past so soothingly
as we glide down the track
under a starry sky
and the crescent moon in cloudy milkiness
creatures stir but we see nothing
the leaves gently shudder
take my hand
oh take my hand
because i am lost here
a thousand tiny sounds in the night
scratching rustling squeaking
mighty trees and baby mice
gnomes who live amongst the roots of the oak
moss and white stones
tangled and cool
the darkening path
the deepening shadows
i am no stranger but
i look and youre gone
alone bitterly alone
i keep hoping to wake up
i stumble upon a little house in a clearing
a very old and frail lady comes out
she smiles at me sadly
come in my son
ive made you some lovely nettle soup
the black lakes
the mute farmers toiling in the fields
small graveyards and white churches
cuckoos calling in the dusk
oh where does that little path lead ?
oh where can we be ?
in the forest
wandering again in this forest
on this little path
the air goes past so soothingly
as we glide down the track
under a starry sky
and the crescent moon in cloudy milkiness
creatures stir but we see nothing
the leaves gently shudder
take my hand
oh take my hand
because i am lost here
a thousand tiny sounds in the night
scratching rustling squeaking
mighty trees and baby mice
gnomes who live amongst the roots of the oak
moss and white stones
tangled and cool
the darkening path
the deepening shadows
i am no stranger but
i look and youre gone
alone bitterly alone
i keep hoping to wake up
i stumble upon a little house in a clearing
a very old and frail lady comes out
she smiles at me sadly
come in my son
ive made you some lovely nettle soup
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
the shake
how could it contain so many?
how could it hold so much?
i dont know who i am
i dont know where im going
i wish i could shake this tight knot of anxiety
i wish these shadows could be dispelled
so lost so lost so lost
broken and changed
now look at me
hurling myself over n over against the world
stupid world i want you if you want me
i still do even if you dont
only yesterday i was a boy
a cruel little boy maybe
i fall for the same olde tricks
repeating and looping
who is is haunting me?
whos filling my mind with these words?
who whispers those terrible things?
a cloak of vulnerability
magic shoes that wont move
things have warped in the sun
the holes in my arm have congealed
that lying mirror
that false reflection
skin falls away
time undulates
the stars remained fixed
the light here burns my eyes
night is within me
i carry the night as my shell
if day comes i'll crawl back into night
i hate them both
the shadows and the fire
the darkness and the blazing light
im just arguing with myself
people, throw me money cos im mad
lying under this blanket of material
my spirit my soul
regarding things
like a bird in a cage
wanting his freedom
but knowing it will kill him
fly fly fly
this all must be a joke
i see things
i say things
i communicate my desire
a sexualized world of shapes and form
planes and angles
soft tumescences
a womans voices
all around in this night
leave me alone!
steven steven steven
leave me alone!
but i rise and i rise and i rise
no no
i hold on to anything now
but up i go
firing firing firing
blasting into the darkness
curves and dales
the same old same old
my punishment and my reward
my obsessive selves
burning my hands
slave to this geometric sleight of hand
who or what keeps trying to come
im drowning in pleasure
but its driving me insane
to go round and round
again
when even my insatiable slave is finished
and gone
when all the different voices are quiet
and the cooing and sighing and moaning is over
when a mockery of sleep falls over me
under a fabric of sweat
when the windows slide open of themselves
and the birds in trees outside leave
and when the music in my ears fades down
and the mercury sinks down in its tube
when fish leave the sea and struggle for the land
and my stomach is so empty
and my mind so full
just in time
just in time
and i know i was right
and that it wont belong
now
how could it hold so much?
i dont know who i am
i dont know where im going
i wish i could shake this tight knot of anxiety
i wish these shadows could be dispelled
so lost so lost so lost
broken and changed
now look at me
hurling myself over n over against the world
stupid world i want you if you want me
i still do even if you dont
only yesterday i was a boy
a cruel little boy maybe
i fall for the same olde tricks
repeating and looping
who is is haunting me?
whos filling my mind with these words?
who whispers those terrible things?
a cloak of vulnerability
magic shoes that wont move
things have warped in the sun
the holes in my arm have congealed
that lying mirror
that false reflection
skin falls away
time undulates
the stars remained fixed
the light here burns my eyes
night is within me
i carry the night as my shell
if day comes i'll crawl back into night
i hate them both
the shadows and the fire
the darkness and the blazing light
im just arguing with myself
people, throw me money cos im mad
lying under this blanket of material
my spirit my soul
regarding things
like a bird in a cage
wanting his freedom
but knowing it will kill him
fly fly fly
this all must be a joke
i see things
i say things
i communicate my desire
a sexualized world of shapes and form
planes and angles
soft tumescences
a womans voices
all around in this night
leave me alone!
steven steven steven
leave me alone!
but i rise and i rise and i rise
no no
i hold on to anything now
but up i go
firing firing firing
blasting into the darkness
curves and dales
the same old same old
my punishment and my reward
my obsessive selves
burning my hands
slave to this geometric sleight of hand
who or what keeps trying to come
im drowning in pleasure
but its driving me insane
to go round and round
again
when even my insatiable slave is finished
and gone
when all the different voices are quiet
and the cooing and sighing and moaning is over
when a mockery of sleep falls over me
under a fabric of sweat
when the windows slide open of themselves
and the birds in trees outside leave
and when the music in my ears fades down
and the mercury sinks down in its tube
when fish leave the sea and struggle for the land
and my stomach is so empty
and my mind so full
just in time
just in time
and i know i was right
and that it wont belong
now
Monday, March 19, 2007
it aint easy
well
my rush into the stratosphere has been curtailed
at the moment im back to 79
the being who fell back to earth
down down down
it was a long way down
i fell screaming n falling
out of those charts
like a doomed comet
like icarus, suddenly wingless
like a stone
falling
felled
the feller was felled
full of fall
fatal flaw
clutching
resisting
twisting in the air
over n over
down down n round
screaming burning crashing
dashed my # 1 dreams
smashed my ambitions
earthbound
held down
point me at the sky
im gonna have ta fly again
i guess its gonna take more than a cuppla old photos
to launch me back up there where the air is rare
to get me back over the moon
back to the drawing board
ha!
my rush into the stratosphere has been curtailed
at the moment im back to 79
the being who fell back to earth
down down down
it was a long way down
i fell screaming n falling
out of those charts
like a doomed comet
like icarus, suddenly wingless
like a stone
falling
felled
the feller was felled
full of fall
fatal flaw
clutching
resisting
twisting in the air
over n over
down down n round
screaming burning crashing
dashed my # 1 dreams
smashed my ambitions
earthbound
held down
point me at the sky
im gonna have ta fly again
i guess its gonna take more than a cuppla old photos
to launch me back up there where the air is rare
to get me back over the moon
back to the drawing board
ha!
Sunday, March 18, 2007
jumped-up rating junkee
rusty said it would happen
wow
i jumped from 78 to 40
in a few hours
or what?
or is it just the natural flux of the blogge-tide?
ok theres some pictures ahead
feels like everythings changed now
the blogges gone visual
you gain something
you lose something
but thats life
i dunno what to think
nk not keen on pictures of her or doodles or woofle
so just me
i havent even asked the twillies ..i hope they dont mind
now i have this thing....what to do with it?
you may find it ruins it for you
you may find it enhances it
well im gonna figger out better things than fambley schnappshotts
gotta try n be creative
never done much photography
never done any actually
a new field for me to konka?
tonite
steve kilbey will play dance sing sculpt act recite paint photograph
all in one sickening self centred load of old rubbish "installment"
entitled "my egos crushing gravity"
plus his beautiful dortas (in a bikini)
and bumper the performing woofle
but if you guess her name she gets real mad
the doodles are there like night and day
i want to put my family on broadway
and my mum too
god bless her
my mum will be talking about the phenomenon of
the lawn bowls groupie
and tips on raising cheeky little sods
my mum knows how to make great christmas puddings
is it a dying art?
who will make the puddings of the future?
my brother rusty
well i was listening to crystal set from now on yessaday
gee theres some good stuff there
funny it was ricki ticki miami from the briny johnstone mescalin
who put the crystal set on the ipod 4 me
some of it was really shoegazery before its time
i love shoegazer
and i love space
but i love bobby dylan
and i love that crazy german stuff
anyway
thats me i guess
exploiting my fambley a la the ozbyrnes
chucking em all out there n putting em to work
im shameless
and i love the headlong rush of success
that slightly sick feeling
as it hits yer system
yessiree
from 78 to 40
see me go
70
60
50
40
?0
?
surely im destined for #1
oh let it be
let it be
but until then
farewell
wow
i jumped from 78 to 40
in a few hours
or what?
or is it just the natural flux of the blogge-tide?
ok theres some pictures ahead
feels like everythings changed now
the blogges gone visual
you gain something
you lose something
but thats life
i dunno what to think
nk not keen on pictures of her or doodles or woofle
so just me
i havent even asked the twillies ..i hope they dont mind
now i have this thing....what to do with it?
you may find it ruins it for you
you may find it enhances it
well im gonna figger out better things than fambley schnappshotts
gotta try n be creative
never done much photography
never done any actually
a new field for me to konka?
tonite
steve kilbey will play dance sing sculpt act recite paint photograph
all in one sickening self centred load of old rubbish "installment"
entitled "my egos crushing gravity"
plus his beautiful dortas (in a bikini)
and bumper the performing woofle
but if you guess her name she gets real mad
the doodles are there like night and day
i want to put my family on broadway
and my mum too
god bless her
my mum will be talking about the phenomenon of
the lawn bowls groupie
and tips on raising cheeky little sods
my mum knows how to make great christmas puddings
is it a dying art?
who will make the puddings of the future?
my brother rusty
well i was listening to crystal set from now on yessaday
gee theres some good stuff there
funny it was ricki ticki miami from the briny johnstone mescalin
who put the crystal set on the ipod 4 me
some of it was really shoegazery before its time
i love shoegazer
and i love space
but i love bobby dylan
and i love that crazy german stuff
anyway
thats me i guess
exploiting my fambley a la the ozbyrnes
chucking em all out there n putting em to work
im shameless
and i love the headlong rush of success
that slightly sick feeling
as it hits yer system
yessiree
from 78 to 40
see me go
70
60
50
40
?0
?
surely im destined for #1
oh let it be
let it be
but until then
farewell
not a test photo
yes
thats minna
me in the middle with the beard
n elli on the right
otherwise we look like triplets
actually i put the trip back in triplets
this pic is about 2 years old now
love
sk
more malarkey
blogger.fuckingcom has gone crazy
they demand this stupid word verification carry-on
and now the dopey thing has outguessed itself
it chucks my precious blogges in a loop
of me typing out these underwater looking letters again
but even when i get em right
it chucks me back in its dreary cycle
which means yesterday i somehow managed to lose stuff
and the title...
(unless you thought that innovative..in which case i planned it!)
anyway here i am at yer disposable as per usual
and its me
stevie k here
no time beings yebliks or alternate psyches
just the real thing
the originalest
rather uneek
(drum roll)
ME!
to tell ya the truth i feel vaguely angry and stupid
just a load of niggly things
personal
familial
bizness
spiritual
physical
all conspire to get my eye off the ball
im not the self assured prick
i seem to be on here
i get 25 nice comments
i get one comment
about sucking and trying harder
and i feel washed up n defeated
you see
say what you like
and no tirades off abuse to negative commenters please
my people my people
we gotta let the nay sayers say their nay!
lettem say
sk + blogge = hitler
lettem say
"this is boring narcissistic redundant swill"
"read better blogges by an ant"
"kilbey is a fraud, a bully, an impostor!"
"tear your eyes out rather than read kilbeys shemozzle"
etc
insert yer own nasty comment here *
any way
if you written 500 blogges
if youve played an instrument for 1000 years
if you can see the wee folk
and if you trapped the tooth fairy n pulled her wings off
if youve played concerts across antarctica
if youve astral travelled just to see girls in showers
if youve sculpted n danced n succumbed n overcome
if youve written national anthems before breakfast
if youve swam across the ocean n defeated slimy monsters
if youve reincarnated as a renaissance lamp in a dark age
if youve been beamed down here for light relief
if you prefer trees to treachery
if you gotta bee in yer cheek n a tongue in yer bonnet
yeah
then
i dunno
a box of new zealand edition of trivial pursuit
has exploded in our street
we read each other questions as we walk along
now i know piggy muldoons boyhood whatnot
and a loada other totally useless info
i mean n.z.s got matt davison i know
(space for a sigh ...or a groan)
and i guess lil timmy poles is a wellington boy
but ....
(new zealand rant deleted by author)
anyway
its sunday
if i hadnt noticed
ive finished a portrait of a woman i been doing
for a commission
and its kinda van go go goghey
and aint it funny that van go only sold one painting in his lifetime?
and sad
and it tells ya something about this world
cos now if they discovered a scribble on an olde bit of paper
that vinny had done
itd be auctioning off for gazillions
yet the geezer died an unknown n penniless
talking of doodles
theyre up n hanging about
theyre colouring the bottom of the marker box
so they can see where each colour goes
a dopey conversation ensues
eve : im doing purple
aurora : then we do...
both : the greeen!
aurora : thats right
eve : i know
aurora :there
eve : no there
aurora : i dont wanna do it no more
eve : but aurora you can do the other green
aurora : i dont care
eve : then i'll do it mahself
aurora : i said i dont care
etc etc
eventually they start sticking skewers down into the stuff
containing the ink and making a mess n ruining the markers
big time daddy intervenes
whatchoo 2 bloody doing there..aurora dont do that!
the doodles have been sprung being turkeys n theyre embarrassed
they try to retreat to their room
whattabout all this bloody mess?
dont leave it there!
the doodles sorta kinda clean up their mess
and then retreat to bedroom
eve cocks her ear to my brian eno ambient music
its the same thing over n over she says
and closes her bedroom door
the morning is warm n overcast
sunday morning
look out the worlds behind you!
sunday morning coming down
and sunday afternoon
lazy sunday afternoon
the inevitability of school or work tomorrow
it leaves its shadow even on us who dont "work"
(in the traditional sense)
sunday bloody sunday
how long
how long will i write this blog
how loa loa loa loa long?
last night had veggie taquitos
next to a raining deserted bondi beach
we walked along the boardwalk in the light rain
bumper takes each tiny drop personally
she swats at the rain and gives off a series of oohs
as they hit her
later it rains harder
i pick her up
and put her on my shoulders
she sits there
miserably oohing as the rain comes down on us
she holds up her hands to ward it off
but she hasnt figured out what it actually is yet
ie just water!
today is the harbour bridges 75th birthday
theyre gonna close it down n ya can walk over it
and tonite is fireworks on bridge
which i can see from my kitchen window
there were some fireworks there a few weeks back
bumper watched them
going
oh wow
OH WOW! to the big explosions
and then for a few nights after
everytime she looked out that window at night
she would still be saying oh wow
expecting to see the fireworks again...
(or maybe she was still seeing em)
bumper is a very very demanding little girl
and she likes things done by the book
and she doesnt wanna be left out
and everythings fine
as long as its going her way
but.....
well bumper has a bit to learn about manners
sometimes shes unpredictably violent n bad tempered
screaming n dancing up n down like rumpelstiltskin
she reminds me of a little creature i call a woofle
now everyone here calls bumper the woofle too
wheres the woofle etc?
she really is like a little forest creature
the bumper fairy
too chubby for her wings
she cant fly
she just bounces along
them doodles n woofles
keep a man real real busy
they demand this stupid word verification carry-on
and now the dopey thing has outguessed itself
it chucks my precious blogges in a loop
of me typing out these underwater looking letters again
but even when i get em right
it chucks me back in its dreary cycle
which means yesterday i somehow managed to lose stuff
and the title...
(unless you thought that innovative..in which case i planned it!)
anyway here i am at yer disposable as per usual
and its me
stevie k here
no time beings yebliks or alternate psyches
just the real thing
the originalest
rather uneek
(drum roll)
ME!
to tell ya the truth i feel vaguely angry and stupid
just a load of niggly things
personal
familial
bizness
spiritual
physical
all conspire to get my eye off the ball
im not the self assured prick
i seem to be on here
i get 25 nice comments
i get one comment
about sucking and trying harder
and i feel washed up n defeated
you see
say what you like
and no tirades off abuse to negative commenters please
my people my people
we gotta let the nay sayers say their nay!
lettem say
sk + blogge = hitler
lettem say
"this is boring narcissistic redundant swill"
"read better blogges by an ant"
"kilbey is a fraud, a bully, an impostor!"
"tear your eyes out rather than read kilbeys shemozzle"
etc
insert yer own nasty comment here *
any way
if you written 500 blogges
if youve played an instrument for 1000 years
if you can see the wee folk
and if you trapped the tooth fairy n pulled her wings off
if youve played concerts across antarctica
if youve astral travelled just to see girls in showers
if youve sculpted n danced n succumbed n overcome
if youve written national anthems before breakfast
if youve swam across the ocean n defeated slimy monsters
if youve reincarnated as a renaissance lamp in a dark age
if youve been beamed down here for light relief
if you prefer trees to treachery
if you gotta bee in yer cheek n a tongue in yer bonnet
yeah
then
i dunno
a box of new zealand edition of trivial pursuit
has exploded in our street
we read each other questions as we walk along
now i know piggy muldoons boyhood whatnot
and a loada other totally useless info
i mean n.z.s got matt davison i know
(space for a sigh ...or a groan)
and i guess lil timmy poles is a wellington boy
but ....
(new zealand rant deleted by author)
anyway
its sunday
if i hadnt noticed
ive finished a portrait of a woman i been doing
for a commission
and its kinda van go go goghey
and aint it funny that van go only sold one painting in his lifetime?
and sad
and it tells ya something about this world
cos now if they discovered a scribble on an olde bit of paper
that vinny had done
itd be auctioning off for gazillions
yet the geezer died an unknown n penniless
talking of doodles
theyre up n hanging about
theyre colouring the bottom of the marker box
so they can see where each colour goes
a dopey conversation ensues
eve : im doing purple
aurora : then we do...
both : the greeen!
aurora : thats right
eve : i know
aurora :there
eve : no there
aurora : i dont wanna do it no more
eve : but aurora you can do the other green
aurora : i dont care
eve : then i'll do it mahself
aurora : i said i dont care
etc etc
eventually they start sticking skewers down into the stuff
containing the ink and making a mess n ruining the markers
big time daddy intervenes
whatchoo 2 bloody doing there..aurora dont do that!
the doodles have been sprung being turkeys n theyre embarrassed
they try to retreat to their room
whattabout all this bloody mess?
dont leave it there!
the doodles sorta kinda clean up their mess
and then retreat to bedroom
eve cocks her ear to my brian eno ambient music
its the same thing over n over she says
and closes her bedroom door
the morning is warm n overcast
sunday morning
look out the worlds behind you!
sunday morning coming down
and sunday afternoon
lazy sunday afternoon
the inevitability of school or work tomorrow
it leaves its shadow even on us who dont "work"
(in the traditional sense)
sunday bloody sunday
how long
how long will i write this blog
how loa loa loa loa long?
last night had veggie taquitos
next to a raining deserted bondi beach
we walked along the boardwalk in the light rain
bumper takes each tiny drop personally
she swats at the rain and gives off a series of oohs
as they hit her
later it rains harder
i pick her up
and put her on my shoulders
she sits there
miserably oohing as the rain comes down on us
she holds up her hands to ward it off
but she hasnt figured out what it actually is yet
ie just water!
today is the harbour bridges 75th birthday
theyre gonna close it down n ya can walk over it
and tonite is fireworks on bridge
which i can see from my kitchen window
there were some fireworks there a few weeks back
bumper watched them
going
oh wow
OH WOW! to the big explosions
and then for a few nights after
everytime she looked out that window at night
she would still be saying oh wow
expecting to see the fireworks again...
(or maybe she was still seeing em)
bumper is a very very demanding little girl
and she likes things done by the book
and she doesnt wanna be left out
and everythings fine
as long as its going her way
but.....
well bumper has a bit to learn about manners
sometimes shes unpredictably violent n bad tempered
screaming n dancing up n down like rumpelstiltskin
she reminds me of a little creature i call a woofle
now everyone here calls bumper the woofle too
wheres the woofle etc?
she really is like a little forest creature
the bumper fairy
too chubby for her wings
she cant fly
she just bounces along
them doodles n woofles
keep a man real real busy
Saturday, March 17, 2007
nevets yeblik walks into a bar
no that cant be right
nevets yeblik never walks into a bar
he walks into mirrors
he walks into a mirror in a bar
he is standing there
drinking lemon lime n bitters
hes come to see a play hes written
oh yes nevets yeblik the playwright
maybe in that universe
but never in this one
the play is called
"will act for beer"
its about to begin
theres about 60- 70 people in here
in this pub
in this bar
in this micro-cosmic moment
nevets rubs his eyes
wow the lead actor looks just like me he thinks
um im sorry ladies n gentlemen
says the actor with the white beard n suntan
uh noah turner hasnt shown up and we're gonna cancel tonite
much restless sighing from the crowd
bullshit! ventures a wag
the actor
(handsome olde devil thinks nevets)
seems embarrassed
he starts arguing with the crowd about refunds when
some other actor
(but not noah turner)
shambles onstage menacingly
why its sebastian goldspink
the actor who played jerry in zoo story
that play nevets was in
but sebastian seems to have mutated into a permanent "jerry"
he tells everybody to shut the fuck up
1st actor : im sorry the play is cancelled...
2nd : not now baybee...(he laughs)
some of the crowd cheer
1st : excuse me but...
2 : why ...whatdidjado..?
a bit of sniggering from the crowd
2 : listen robert de niro...i know my part, ok
1 : you know your part?
2 : and yours....wanna hear some?
1 : ha! as if you would know my part...
2 : yeah as if.....ok
he declaims a large chunk of dialogue
1st actor really seems embarrassed now
the crowd calls out to let jerry act
1 : you want me to do it with....him?
the crowd roar out a huge yes
1 : but i mean.....cmon...he doesnt..
crowd start to heckle
2 : cmon gimme a chance
1 : let me ask tony who manages this place....
from the back of the crowd comes a "sallright wimme!"
2 : do you know your part?
1 : me?
2 : yeah you..youre acting like a man who dont want
this play to go on
1 : thats ridiculous, i assure you that....
2 : well are you ready?
1 : are you?
2 : ive started already havent i?
1 : i know you, dont i?
2 : maybe...but i doubt it
1 : no you shouldve said yes
2 : no i shoulda said maybe
1 : i was asking the real you
2 : oh the real me huh?
1 ; yes ..as opposed to the you in the play
2 : but i am this role....i am actor 2 personified
1 : but jerry...
2 : dont call me jerry mister...jerrys dead
1 : i ..uh..
2 : dont mention that name round here no more
1 : but this is extraordinary..i mean
2 : ok i guess we need some kinda explanation about here
1 : arent you supposed to....?
2 : do that other bit with the chair? nah...im skipping it
1 : dont you ever stick to the script?
2 : nope...so dont expect it...ok?
1 : so definitely not gonna stand on the chair?
2 : if you really want me to...just for you
1 : its not for me...its for them
(melodramatically gestures to audience)
the audience shuffle about awkwardly
2 : do you lot really want the chair?
1 : how would they know...they havent seen the play yet
2 : well its just that i get up on this chair...
1 : its not just....its the most important thing in the beginning
2 :except for you
1 : except for me...yes...ha ha
2 : anyway while im up on the chair..
1 : do we even have the chair here...
audience calls for the chair
tony the manager brings a chair up on stage
1 : ha ha ...go on...!
2 : im not getting up on that chair there
1 : well we cant do the play then..
audience cry out in anger n frustration
2 : you know damn well thats not the right kinda chair
1 : then maybe you arent the right kind of actor for this play
2 : and maybe i could method act a punch on the nose for ya
he menaces 1, weaving and ducking
1 : im not in this to get punched
someone in the crowd screams "hit 'im!!"
2 : i oughtta knock yer lines into ya!
1 : im sorry...did i forget that bit where...?
2 : yes you did and now we're in the wrong place
suddenly a big lady in the audience calls out
(who is an actor planted)
lady : get on with it!
1 and 2 : what?
lady : you bloody heard me! GET ON WITH IT!
1 : excuse me madam but...
2 : how about a nice bit of shut the fuck up!
lady : get on with it you mugs
1 : madam...this is it!
2 : well almost...
1 : its almost it...!
lady : its bullshit swhat it is!
no that cant be right
nevets yeblik never walks into a bar
he walks into mirrors
he walks into a mirror in a bar
he is standing there
drinking lemon lime n bitters
hes come to see a play hes written
oh yes nevets yeblik the playwright
maybe in that universe
but never in this one
the play is called
"will act for beer"
its about to begin
theres about 60- 70 people in here
in this pub
in this bar
in this micro-cosmic moment
nevets rubs his eyes
wow the lead actor looks just like me he thinks
um im sorry ladies n gentlemen
says the actor with the white beard n suntan
uh noah turner hasnt shown up and we're gonna cancel tonite
much restless sighing from the crowd
bullshit! ventures a wag
the actor
(handsome olde devil thinks nevets)
seems embarrassed
he starts arguing with the crowd about refunds when
some other actor
(but not noah turner)
shambles onstage menacingly
why its sebastian goldspink
the actor who played jerry in zoo story
that play nevets was in
but sebastian seems to have mutated into a permanent "jerry"
he tells everybody to shut the fuck up
1st actor : im sorry the play is cancelled...
2nd : not now baybee...(he laughs)
some of the crowd cheer
1st : excuse me but...
2 : why ...whatdidjado..?
a bit of sniggering from the crowd
2 : listen robert de niro...i know my part, ok
1 : you know your part?
2 : and yours....wanna hear some?
1 : ha! as if you would know my part...
2 : yeah as if.....ok
he declaims a large chunk of dialogue
1st actor really seems embarrassed now
the crowd calls out to let jerry act
1 : you want me to do it with....him?
the crowd roar out a huge yes
1 : but i mean.....cmon...he doesnt..
crowd start to heckle
2 : cmon gimme a chance
1 : let me ask tony who manages this place....
from the back of the crowd comes a "sallright wimme!"
2 : do you know your part?
1 : me?
2 : yeah you..youre acting like a man who dont want
this play to go on
1 : thats ridiculous, i assure you that....
2 : well are you ready?
1 : are you?
2 : ive started already havent i?
1 : i know you, dont i?
2 : maybe...but i doubt it
1 : no you shouldve said yes
2 : no i shoulda said maybe
1 : i was asking the real you
2 : oh the real me huh?
1 ; yes ..as opposed to the you in the play
2 : but i am this role....i am actor 2 personified
1 : but jerry...
2 : dont call me jerry mister...jerrys dead
1 : i ..uh..
2 : dont mention that name round here no more
1 : but this is extraordinary..i mean
2 : ok i guess we need some kinda explanation about here
1 : arent you supposed to....?
2 : do that other bit with the chair? nah...im skipping it
1 : dont you ever stick to the script?
2 : nope...so dont expect it...ok?
1 : so definitely not gonna stand on the chair?
2 : if you really want me to...just for you
1 : its not for me...its for them
(melodramatically gestures to audience)
the audience shuffle about awkwardly
2 : do you lot really want the chair?
1 : how would they know...they havent seen the play yet
2 : well its just that i get up on this chair...
1 : its not just....its the most important thing in the beginning
2 :except for you
1 : except for me...yes...ha ha
2 : anyway while im up on the chair..
1 : do we even have the chair here...
audience calls for the chair
tony the manager brings a chair up on stage
1 : ha ha ...go on...!
2 : im not getting up on that chair there
1 : well we cant do the play then..
audience cry out in anger n frustration
2 : you know damn well thats not the right kinda chair
1 : then maybe you arent the right kind of actor for this play
2 : and maybe i could method act a punch on the nose for ya
he menaces 1, weaving and ducking
1 : im not in this to get punched
someone in the crowd screams "hit 'im!!"
2 : i oughtta knock yer lines into ya!
1 : im sorry...did i forget that bit where...?
2 : yes you did and now we're in the wrong place
suddenly a big lady in the audience calls out
(who is an actor planted)
lady : get on with it!
1 and 2 : what?
lady : you bloody heard me! GET ON WITH IT!
1 : excuse me madam but...
2 : how about a nice bit of shut the fuck up!
lady : get on with it you mugs
1 : madam...this is it!
2 : well almost...
1 : its almost it...!
lady : its bullshit swhat it is!
Friday, March 16, 2007
shemozzle
yeah whatever baybee
oscillating between poetry n anti-war "sarcasm"
nevets, are you being "sarcastic" to those belligerent warmongers
nevets, are you being rude to those blood thirsty animal eaters
nevets , did you tell all the aggressive philistines to fuck off
ooohh nevets youre worse than hitler!
a storm in a tea cup
still the wars rage on
still the prisoners remain bound
still all the rest
what can ya do?
try to make small changes
try being nice
go on
why not?
im painting n working on music
i dive deeper and find theres constantly more
another plane of colour
another unexplained sound wash
be careful
dont rush it
consider
take it easy
if it aint easy its too hard
see how the masters achieve their effect
do it with love
dedicate it to the hell of it
make it marvellous
try for impossibility
leave space
grow up
remain child like
focus n detach
let your mind wander as you work
the first things are the best things
get some distance
try new things
respect the rules
and then break em
expect the best from yerself
but never be too hard on yerself
make the music like a painting
and vice versa
follow yer train of thought
trust your heart
listen to yer muse
dont blow it
dont get angry
if its fucked up dont persevere
start again
pull stuff outta the thin air
put opposites together
make it intellectual and sexy and divine and nice
stay away from dissonance until you know what yer doing
imitate and innovate
see if you can do it properly before you do it lazily
lazy aint easy
listen to what yer friends say then ignore em
if you know its brilliant , sod their criticism
if you know its baloney, sod their praise
presentation is important
dont be too humble when letting em hear/see
dont tell em too much about it
be modest and realistic
except if you are a genius
then behave like one
try different things
when you paint make sure you got the right music on
talk about art n music all the time
think about it
youll be surprised how answers come to you unbidden
practise
everyday
love it
oscillating between poetry n anti-war "sarcasm"
nevets, are you being "sarcastic" to those belligerent warmongers
nevets, are you being rude to those blood thirsty animal eaters
nevets , did you tell all the aggressive philistines to fuck off
ooohh nevets youre worse than hitler!
a storm in a tea cup
still the wars rage on
still the prisoners remain bound
still all the rest
what can ya do?
try to make small changes
try being nice
go on
why not?
im painting n working on music
i dive deeper and find theres constantly more
another plane of colour
another unexplained sound wash
be careful
dont rush it
consider
take it easy
if it aint easy its too hard
see how the masters achieve their effect
do it with love
dedicate it to the hell of it
make it marvellous
try for impossibility
leave space
grow up
remain child like
focus n detach
let your mind wander as you work
the first things are the best things
get some distance
try new things
respect the rules
and then break em
expect the best from yerself
but never be too hard on yerself
make the music like a painting
and vice versa
follow yer train of thought
trust your heart
listen to yer muse
dont blow it
dont get angry
if its fucked up dont persevere
start again
pull stuff outta the thin air
put opposites together
make it intellectual and sexy and divine and nice
stay away from dissonance until you know what yer doing
imitate and innovate
see if you can do it properly before you do it lazily
lazy aint easy
listen to what yer friends say then ignore em
if you know its brilliant , sod their criticism
if you know its baloney, sod their praise
presentation is important
dont be too humble when letting em hear/see
dont tell em too much about it
be modest and realistic
except if you are a genius
then behave like one
try different things
when you paint make sure you got the right music on
talk about art n music all the time
think about it
youll be surprised how answers come to you unbidden
practise
everyday
love it
Thursday, March 15, 2007
autumnatic writing
lifes a gas
i hope its gonna last
have to laugh at geezer from yesterdays comments
who says i dont understand
who says im steve naive
cos i dont understand the torture
cos i write in my blogge
"does it have to be this way?"
is davey hicks such a bad guy
does he so threaten the "civilized" world
that hes treated worse than a dog for 5 years?
see the geezer from the comments
he doesnt understand either
and he doesnt know why
it just makes him feel comfortable to think
that someone must know what theyre doing
with all the war n torture
leave it to the experts...eh?
whatta joke thatta stupid songwriter
could know anything about it, eh?
for godsake let the songwriters write songs
and let the torturers torture
thats what we got em for...
ordinary people like kilbey cant understand
war and torture
the balance of power
detente n brinkmanship
jesus, kilbey
go write yer stupid song
leave torture alone!
what do you know?
tell us about the heyday shirts!
sheesh! enough with the torture
as if a songwriting potsmoking turkey
like you
could understand the brilliant strategies
of the the torturers n their bosses
just like vietnam
i spose kilbey didnt want vietnam neither
and then where would we be?
imagine if we hadnt had vietnam?
ha!
no freedom
no liberty
does he think all those young soldiers died for nothing?
god imagine if they let kilbeys type run the world...
fucking useless
we'd have chaos!
hed let our enemies walk all over us!
wed all be speaking iraqi by now
and riding camels to work
and i feel much better now soddem hussein is hung
he deserved it! the barbarian
he sat back in the comfort of his palace
and killed innocent people
and invaded other countries
that were nothing to do with him
he had the massive destructive weapons
(or he wished he did!)
and damn! im glad weve gottem ourselves
cos we know when to use em
and he didnt
so we had him n his sons executed
to show the world what we think of murderers!
how could kilbey understand this shit?
obviously....he couldnt!
yeah just like the witch trials and inquisition
and the crusades
and that lovely hundred years war
why why why?
its the same type
doing it over n over n over
us ordinary folks
we stand back n feel lucky if it isnt us
keep yer eyes down n maybe they wont notice ya
see sir roger ride off to jerusalem
and stick it to the turks
those heathens...we'll show em
call that an atrocity...?
this is an ATROCITY!
the christians used to dig up plague ridden corpses
and catapult em into moslem cities under siege
or
promise to spare the citizens if they surrender
and then kill every last man woman n child of em
you see
they were barbarians these moslems
the christians were the good guys
they needed jerusalem back
and whatever it took, ya know.....
im sure olde richard the lionheart
had a good line in rhetoric
and im sure a load of the boys along
on the crusade thought it was a good cause
or they were soldiers just doing their gig
getting paid
killing people
same as it ever was
cut off a childs head?
sure...if its a heathen
i mean the crusaders got god on their side, right?
the proper god you know jehovah n his son jesus
jesus woulda wanted it this way
im sure
i mean you cant say all those people died for nothing
why our leaders wouldnt do that?!
not our king!
he understands ruling!
he wouldnt get us mixed up in a bloodthirsty ruinous shambles
that would continue to fuck up the world
for centuries!
i mean a crusade is a good thing
its the english word for jihad, right?
it means we re doing it for the one true god
and decency n civilisation
and just like yesterday
the paradox remains
sometimes you gotta beat a bit
of fucking civilization into these bastards!
oh and the paisley shirts....?
each floral blip represented a million foreigners
murdered by western white imperialistic christian idiots!
i hope its gonna last
have to laugh at geezer from yesterdays comments
who says i dont understand
who says im steve naive
cos i dont understand the torture
cos i write in my blogge
"does it have to be this way?"
is davey hicks such a bad guy
does he so threaten the "civilized" world
that hes treated worse than a dog for 5 years?
see the geezer from the comments
he doesnt understand either
and he doesnt know why
it just makes him feel comfortable to think
that someone must know what theyre doing
with all the war n torture
leave it to the experts...eh?
whatta joke thatta stupid songwriter
could know anything about it, eh?
for godsake let the songwriters write songs
and let the torturers torture
thats what we got em for...
ordinary people like kilbey cant understand
war and torture
the balance of power
detente n brinkmanship
jesus, kilbey
go write yer stupid song
leave torture alone!
what do you know?
tell us about the heyday shirts!
sheesh! enough with the torture
as if a songwriting potsmoking turkey
like you
could understand the brilliant strategies
of the the torturers n their bosses
just like vietnam
i spose kilbey didnt want vietnam neither
and then where would we be?
imagine if we hadnt had vietnam?
ha!
no freedom
no liberty
does he think all those young soldiers died for nothing?
god imagine if they let kilbeys type run the world...
fucking useless
we'd have chaos!
hed let our enemies walk all over us!
wed all be speaking iraqi by now
and riding camels to work
and i feel much better now soddem hussein is hung
he deserved it! the barbarian
he sat back in the comfort of his palace
and killed innocent people
and invaded other countries
that were nothing to do with him
he had the massive destructive weapons
(or he wished he did!)
and damn! im glad weve gottem ourselves
cos we know when to use em
and he didnt
so we had him n his sons executed
to show the world what we think of murderers!
how could kilbey understand this shit?
obviously....he couldnt!
yeah just like the witch trials and inquisition
and the crusades
and that lovely hundred years war
why why why?
its the same type
doing it over n over n over
us ordinary folks
we stand back n feel lucky if it isnt us
keep yer eyes down n maybe they wont notice ya
see sir roger ride off to jerusalem
and stick it to the turks
those heathens...we'll show em
call that an atrocity...?
this is an ATROCITY!
the christians used to dig up plague ridden corpses
and catapult em into moslem cities under siege
or
promise to spare the citizens if they surrender
and then kill every last man woman n child of em
you see
they were barbarians these moslems
the christians were the good guys
they needed jerusalem back
and whatever it took, ya know.....
im sure olde richard the lionheart
had a good line in rhetoric
and im sure a load of the boys along
on the crusade thought it was a good cause
or they were soldiers just doing their gig
getting paid
killing people
same as it ever was
cut off a childs head?
sure...if its a heathen
i mean the crusaders got god on their side, right?
the proper god you know jehovah n his son jesus
jesus woulda wanted it this way
im sure
i mean you cant say all those people died for nothing
why our leaders wouldnt do that?!
not our king!
he understands ruling!
he wouldnt get us mixed up in a bloodthirsty ruinous shambles
that would continue to fuck up the world
for centuries!
i mean a crusade is a good thing
its the english word for jihad, right?
it means we re doing it for the one true god
and decency n civilisation
and just like yesterday
the paradox remains
sometimes you gotta beat a bit
of fucking civilization into these bastards!
oh and the paisley shirts....?
each floral blip represented a million foreigners
murdered by western white imperialistic christian idiots!
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
arcana major
there are no absolutes
you go one direction
after a while you notice you going the opposite way
you start out with freedom
but after a while you notice
you gotta guard yer freedom
and you gotta keep some out people of yer freedom
and you end up with more rules n regulations
more people in jail
bigger n nastier armies
and busting down some peoples doors
in case they threaten yer freedom
and taking away other peoples freedoms
first
just in case they might take yours
i mean freedom n liberty
are lovely words
you can arrest and punish a lotta riif raff in their name
and god
you gotta know gods on the side of freedom
so watch out
this is a righteous freedom
now to keep things nice and free
a few foreigners may have to go
one way or another
and maybe things gotta be a bit tighter
a tighter freedom
and some cats out there
why theyre so anti-freedom...
they hate freedom in fact
so maybe we'll detain em a little
see how they like fucking freedom then
and theres other guys out there
theyre so bad
well they deserve to die
and whatever it takes
theyre so bad that its worth a few joe schoes dying with em
too bad if they live too close to mr bad
and bring em in dead or alive
believe me
i bet theyd do it to us
so dont give em a chance
hell we need more executions
executions have always been good for civilization
and now theyre humane so what more could you want
and we need to examine ourselves more closely
look at each other....hmmmm
could that person be threatening my freedom
freedom needs protection
i need something big to protect myself with
i need to be able to nail any anti-liberty geezers right
fast
so they dont know whats hit em
and if the bad guys have got evil geniuses
we'll get them n punish em, right?
hell no, we'll get em working for us
they could come in handy
dreaming up new diseases and bombs
we could maybe use that against their own former side
you cant muck about where freedom concerned
actually freedom needs some tough guys to administrate it
to make sure a load of people arent ruining it
traditionally these sort of people have ruined freedom:
foreigners, intellectuals, drug users, the poor,
the heathens n barbarians, criminals, homosexuals
messiahs, peace-niks n beatniks, bohemians
activists, gypsies, homeless, hippies
ratbags, mutants etc etc
you get the picture dont ya?
these types dont appreciate liberty
and
thats that
in fact eventually
liberty n freedoms patience become strained
and liberty says to freedom
fuck it!
the other guys are playing dirty
so we should to..
torture em
kidnap em
chain em up
tie em down
make those bastards confess
this end does justify the means
these are violent times
we gotta be worse than them to defeat em
we gotta be badder than the bad guys to win
its a paradox to be sure
but whats a paradox to freedom
god wants us to be free
thats why we win almost all the wars
isnt it?
and things are great here in freeland aint they?
things are being looked after...
well not everything
fighting for freedom takes a lotta energy
so somethings gonna take some time to fix up
you never know what the weather might do
and whats that gotta do with freedom
the hospitals n schools can wait a little longer
and the poor....?
we'll sort em out later
besides they wouldnt know freedom from a bar of soap
ha
they wouldnt know a bar of soap from a bar of soap
we just gonna have to do whats good for freedom
even if it means nothings free anymore
theres another paradox for ya
so what?
didja know that carrots scream when theyre murdered
ha ha ha
you go one direction
after a while you notice you going the opposite way
you start out with freedom
but after a while you notice
you gotta guard yer freedom
and you gotta keep some out people of yer freedom
and you end up with more rules n regulations
more people in jail
bigger n nastier armies
and busting down some peoples doors
in case they threaten yer freedom
and taking away other peoples freedoms
first
just in case they might take yours
i mean freedom n liberty
are lovely words
you can arrest and punish a lotta riif raff in their name
and god
you gotta know gods on the side of freedom
so watch out
this is a righteous freedom
now to keep things nice and free
a few foreigners may have to go
one way or another
and maybe things gotta be a bit tighter
a tighter freedom
and some cats out there
why theyre so anti-freedom...
they hate freedom in fact
so maybe we'll detain em a little
see how they like fucking freedom then
and theres other guys out there
theyre so bad
well they deserve to die
and whatever it takes
theyre so bad that its worth a few joe schoes dying with em
too bad if they live too close to mr bad
and bring em in dead or alive
believe me
i bet theyd do it to us
so dont give em a chance
hell we need more executions
executions have always been good for civilization
and now theyre humane so what more could you want
and we need to examine ourselves more closely
look at each other....hmmmm
could that person be threatening my freedom
freedom needs protection
i need something big to protect myself with
i need to be able to nail any anti-liberty geezers right
fast
so they dont know whats hit em
and if the bad guys have got evil geniuses
we'll get them n punish em, right?
hell no, we'll get em working for us
they could come in handy
dreaming up new diseases and bombs
we could maybe use that against their own former side
you cant muck about where freedom concerned
actually freedom needs some tough guys to administrate it
to make sure a load of people arent ruining it
traditionally these sort of people have ruined freedom:
foreigners, intellectuals, drug users, the poor,
the heathens n barbarians, criminals, homosexuals
messiahs, peace-niks n beatniks, bohemians
activists, gypsies, homeless, hippies
ratbags, mutants etc etc
you get the picture dont ya?
these types dont appreciate liberty
and
thats that
in fact eventually
liberty n freedoms patience become strained
and liberty says to freedom
fuck it!
the other guys are playing dirty
so we should to..
torture em
kidnap em
chain em up
tie em down
make those bastards confess
this end does justify the means
these are violent times
we gotta be worse than them to defeat em
we gotta be badder than the bad guys to win
its a paradox to be sure
but whats a paradox to freedom
god wants us to be free
thats why we win almost all the wars
isnt it?
and things are great here in freeland aint they?
things are being looked after...
well not everything
fighting for freedom takes a lotta energy
so somethings gonna take some time to fix up
you never know what the weather might do
and whats that gotta do with freedom
the hospitals n schools can wait a little longer
and the poor....?
we'll sort em out later
besides they wouldnt know freedom from a bar of soap
ha
they wouldnt know a bar of soap from a bar of soap
we just gonna have to do whats good for freedom
even if it means nothings free anymore
theres another paradox for ya
so what?
didja know that carrots scream when theyre murdered
ha ha ha
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
beware the ides of march
today my head is filled with justabout everything
its a dark overcast morning here in nth bondi
a thousand shades of grey fill the torn sky
i can see the harbour bridge off in the distance
popul vuhs agape percolates on the machine
my feet are cold
but they usually are
i cant believe its 2007 and i have 5 daughters
i cant believe im sitting in this kitchen typing this out to you
i cant believe that i am a biped breathing gases on a chunk of rock
i cant believe that below this ordinary veneer of reality
there are a million alternative versions
i cant believe how lucky/old/whatever i am
a blue sky and a rainbow have come to dissipate the grey
the red orange and purple roofed houses
a rainbow casting its weird light
half the sky bright
half the sky still dark
the rainbow is the threshold where the blue meets grey
surely this is a sign
an omen
the sky swallows the rainbow
smothers it in photons
the rainbow becomes a crooked column of colour
as it drifts towards the heads
white flowers ....oh their divine aroma
weeds gone mad and nodding palms
and the feeling the seas not far away
everything in here still still
hyper-still
the females all still sleep
my family slumber in early autumnal shadows
unaware of the time being in the penumbra of the kitchen
the clock makes its rounds
clicking off each second
a second that brings me closer to....?
i stagger to think
i guzzle fiji water
everything seems a long way off
as if im on some peak
looking down at the past n the future
equidistant now
this is the wonder of dawn
the clear truthful time
a time for owning up
a time when the facades can crumble
i hear your questions
why why why
whispering and demanding
singing different words to the same song
coming in on different sides
with your own takes
i attract trouble
i change horses in midstream
i look at my reflection in dawns mirror
and i see nothing much
the bamboo grows in its white pot
my bonsai is already dead
but i cant bear to throw it away
the summer sun blasted it
and my neglect let it wither
morning comes whether you wanted it or not
a sad little piano piece
the water in canals is ruffled
i take leave of my body; poets can do that
up i go and my gaze stretches out
looking down thru the racing clouds
into peoples houses and hearts
gleaming kitchens and dreaming children
gardens sandpits swings and bikes
dolls houses and fish tanks
old engine bits waiting in the garage
puddles that reflect the sky flash and change
trains rushing headlong who knows where or why
faces in windows in carriages show pale concern
hearses pull up outside graveyards filled with stone angels
the grieving wander the dismal paths finding little hope
willows weep and bridges sigh
in the country the earth silently asks for rain
but the clouds go sailing by
letters uncollected in letterboxes
sad communications and bills
sheep nibble yellow grass in the dust
the oil evaporates in the motor
and rust subtly explores all the openings
the newspapers got it all in black and white
the road peters out
a sandy track goes nowhere
bearded lizards scamper away
thorns
barbed wire
keep out
old empty beer bottles
and signs of a fire
horseflies
a few drops of rain
spiteful thistles
a crescent of blood
a locked gate
ochre rubble
ants bite
a shack
damp dark
full stop
its a dark overcast morning here in nth bondi
a thousand shades of grey fill the torn sky
i can see the harbour bridge off in the distance
popul vuhs agape percolates on the machine
my feet are cold
but they usually are
i cant believe its 2007 and i have 5 daughters
i cant believe im sitting in this kitchen typing this out to you
i cant believe that i am a biped breathing gases on a chunk of rock
i cant believe that below this ordinary veneer of reality
there are a million alternative versions
i cant believe how lucky/old/whatever i am
a blue sky and a rainbow have come to dissipate the grey
the red orange and purple roofed houses
a rainbow casting its weird light
half the sky bright
half the sky still dark
the rainbow is the threshold where the blue meets grey
surely this is a sign
an omen
the sky swallows the rainbow
smothers it in photons
the rainbow becomes a crooked column of colour
as it drifts towards the heads
white flowers ....oh their divine aroma
weeds gone mad and nodding palms
and the feeling the seas not far away
everything in here still still
hyper-still
the females all still sleep
my family slumber in early autumnal shadows
unaware of the time being in the penumbra of the kitchen
the clock makes its rounds
clicking off each second
a second that brings me closer to....?
i stagger to think
i guzzle fiji water
everything seems a long way off
as if im on some peak
looking down at the past n the future
equidistant now
this is the wonder of dawn
the clear truthful time
a time for owning up
a time when the facades can crumble
i hear your questions
why why why
whispering and demanding
singing different words to the same song
coming in on different sides
with your own takes
i attract trouble
i change horses in midstream
i look at my reflection in dawns mirror
and i see nothing much
the bamboo grows in its white pot
my bonsai is already dead
but i cant bear to throw it away
the summer sun blasted it
and my neglect let it wither
morning comes whether you wanted it or not
a sad little piano piece
the water in canals is ruffled
i take leave of my body; poets can do that
up i go and my gaze stretches out
looking down thru the racing clouds
into peoples houses and hearts
gleaming kitchens and dreaming children
gardens sandpits swings and bikes
dolls houses and fish tanks
old engine bits waiting in the garage
puddles that reflect the sky flash and change
trains rushing headlong who knows where or why
faces in windows in carriages show pale concern
hearses pull up outside graveyards filled with stone angels
the grieving wander the dismal paths finding little hope
willows weep and bridges sigh
in the country the earth silently asks for rain
but the clouds go sailing by
letters uncollected in letterboxes
sad communications and bills
sheep nibble yellow grass in the dust
the oil evaporates in the motor
and rust subtly explores all the openings
the newspapers got it all in black and white
the road peters out
a sandy track goes nowhere
bearded lizards scamper away
thorns
barbed wire
keep out
old empty beer bottles
and signs of a fire
horseflies
a few drops of rain
spiteful thistles
a crescent of blood
a locked gate
ochre rubble
ants bite
a shack
damp dark
full stop
Monday, March 12, 2007
stranger then strange
i want everything
the little doors in trees that lead to the underground
the soft clouds oozing between my toes
the neverending saturday afternoon goldentone blur
the morningside liftoff into crimson blue
the dancing child with her leopard suit
the perpetual emphases of youth
moving mountains
rolling hills
babylon brooks and ceramic buildings inlaid with jet
silvertopped peak smothered in snowy cream
mornings in my silk gown scoffing down an old poison
outlook: encoded in temperatures the real story
warning : trespassers will be forgiven
timeline : jehovah made earth on 22nd april at 2 34 in the afternoon
application received
commission deducted
subscription appreciated
equipment depreciated
lifespeed accelerated
places closed down
more than anything i wish to heal
the feeling that i could
the feeling that i could
the feeling that i could if only i knew how
ah kilbey youre so mixed up
yeah i know
i admit to it
somethings coming at me too fast
somethings too slow
who are you man?
i dunno
the day before yesterday i was me you know
and then
and then
what are you trying to say
here?
are you trying to sell em yer uncertainty now?
are you joking?
are you listening to me?
do you remember that time
long long ago
long before deep black time
before you noticed the warmth
and stretched out your limbs
where you floating inside adventure
where you kick back and let the stream take you
where you dissolve
where you surrender
i need it i need it
you witness a struggle for a soul
a sole operator possessed by many voices
pull out all the stops
let me drown then in you
sinking into life
slowing down and getting heavy
attraction crash
rejection smash
collisions inavoidable
i dont care if they charge me a fortune
i gotta do it one more time
one more teensy time
then youll be done
then i'll be through
then youll be finished
then i'll be satisfied
then youll be satisfied?
yes me
yes i want i want and i want
i want this
i want that and that
thats a lotta wanting
the more i want the more i want
it gets worse the more i get
getting worse and getter even worse
the more i get the worse it gets
and still i get more
than i want
youre not seeing the big picture
then describe it for me
i cant its too big
ha!
then what
what what what is the point
no point
what i do is pointless
but we hoped for a point
whos we?
me and the others out there
you dont know them any more than me
yes i do im sks everyman
thats bullshit they dont even know what they want
they wanted a point
a point is a very western way of looking at things
am i a "straight"?
impossible!
youre cracking up
into constituent parts
what do your subscribers think of trash like this?
it aint trash its a glimpse inside my mind..
big deal
muse :its bullshit!
stay outta this
kilbey is mine
i will speak through him
no no
its my turn now kilbey will become everyman
muse : a revoltin' development
ha ha
kilbey is submerging
everyman for himself
anywhere anywhy anymore
i want the machine equivalent of love
i want the grande old emperor of showbiz humbled
i want the drunken cads punished
i want the reliable poetry of plus and minus
and deep long division
i want the mosaic version of events reset
i want to colour you in differently
i want music for breakfast served in a little silver platter
i want autonomous help and hands on freedom
i want the happy endings you cant find in a book
i want a blogge
that rates #1
and puts the textured vegetable protein on the table everynight
everyman
everyday
everytime!
the little doors in trees that lead to the underground
the soft clouds oozing between my toes
the neverending saturday afternoon goldentone blur
the morningside liftoff into crimson blue
the dancing child with her leopard suit
the perpetual emphases of youth
moving mountains
rolling hills
babylon brooks and ceramic buildings inlaid with jet
silvertopped peak smothered in snowy cream
mornings in my silk gown scoffing down an old poison
outlook: encoded in temperatures the real story
warning : trespassers will be forgiven
timeline : jehovah made earth on 22nd april at 2 34 in the afternoon
application received
commission deducted
subscription appreciated
equipment depreciated
lifespeed accelerated
places closed down
more than anything i wish to heal
the feeling that i could
the feeling that i could
the feeling that i could if only i knew how
ah kilbey youre so mixed up
yeah i know
i admit to it
somethings coming at me too fast
somethings too slow
who are you man?
i dunno
the day before yesterday i was me you know
and then
and then
what are you trying to say
here?
are you trying to sell em yer uncertainty now?
are you joking?
are you listening to me?
do you remember that time
long long ago
long before deep black time
before you noticed the warmth
and stretched out your limbs
where you floating inside adventure
where you kick back and let the stream take you
where you dissolve
where you surrender
i need it i need it
you witness a struggle for a soul
a sole operator possessed by many voices
pull out all the stops
let me drown then in you
sinking into life
slowing down and getting heavy
attraction crash
rejection smash
collisions inavoidable
i dont care if they charge me a fortune
i gotta do it one more time
one more teensy time
then youll be done
then i'll be through
then youll be finished
then i'll be satisfied
then youll be satisfied?
yes me
yes i want i want and i want
i want this
i want that and that
thats a lotta wanting
the more i want the more i want
it gets worse the more i get
getting worse and getter even worse
the more i get the worse it gets
and still i get more
than i want
youre not seeing the big picture
then describe it for me
i cant its too big
ha!
then what
what what what is the point
no point
what i do is pointless
but we hoped for a point
whos we?
me and the others out there
you dont know them any more than me
yes i do im sks everyman
thats bullshit they dont even know what they want
they wanted a point
a point is a very western way of looking at things
am i a "straight"?
impossible!
youre cracking up
into constituent parts
what do your subscribers think of trash like this?
it aint trash its a glimpse inside my mind..
big deal
muse :its bullshit!
stay outta this
kilbey is mine
i will speak through him
no no
its my turn now kilbey will become everyman
muse : a revoltin' development
ha ha
kilbey is submerging
everyman for himself
anywhere anywhy anymore
i want the machine equivalent of love
i want the grande old emperor of showbiz humbled
i want the drunken cads punished
i want the reliable poetry of plus and minus
and deep long division
i want the mosaic version of events reset
i want to colour you in differently
i want music for breakfast served in a little silver platter
i want autonomous help and hands on freedom
i want the happy endings you cant find in a book
i want a blogge
that rates #1
and puts the textured vegetable protein on the table everynight
everyman
everyday
everytime!
Sunday, March 11, 2007
free verse
sunday
progress
the lord in heaven rests so lightly
as men appear on earth
revolving and evolving
ages pass
ziggurats gardens temples
by the rivers of babylon
mistress of the earth
gold coins
drugs and brothels
secret initiation
whip those slaves
burn that sacrifice
conquer this world
daniel
in the lions den
mangy leonine hunger
the great cat growls
and gets up
its mate snarls
as they approach the man
white light emanating
the holy spirit enters the lions hearts
instead of this filthy hole
africa before their eyes
the great plains filled with zebra and buffalo
drinking from the green rivers
in the midday shade
before the hunters found their pride
and the cubs were taken from them
and peace fills their simple hearts
and the man strokes their great tawny faces
and touches their huge salty tears
progress
the lord in heaven rests so lightly
as men appear on earth
revolving and evolving
ages pass
ziggurats gardens temples
by the rivers of babylon
mistress of the earth
gold coins
drugs and brothels
secret initiation
whip those slaves
burn that sacrifice
conquer this world
daniel
in the lions den
mangy leonine hunger
the great cat growls
and gets up
its mate snarls
as they approach the man
white light emanating
the holy spirit enters the lions hearts
instead of this filthy hole
africa before their eyes
the great plains filled with zebra and buffalo
drinking from the green rivers
in the midday shade
before the hunters found their pride
and the cubs were taken from them
and peace fills their simple hearts
and the man strokes their great tawny faces
and touches their huge salty tears
Saturday, March 10, 2007
hodge podge
good morning fiendss
7 01 here in nth bondi
lassanite hadda strange time
i was asked by matt from lovetones
to be special guest for show in oxford st "the spectrum"
so i turned up at 7 30 after dropping in on mwp
and discussing another "show biz" offer we keep getting
oh my fiendss
not all publicity IS good publicity
i tried so hard to steer my band clear of schmaltz
n bullshit n award ceremonies n quiz fucking shows
you know last time i checked
renaissance men werent doing quiz shows
aint it funny how they always wanna getcha down to their level
ok the chirch maybe the most spectacularly unsuccessful band
in the history of music
no doubt largely due to my hopeless songs
my squeaky voice
and my ugliness
and now my ridicul;ous olde age
but one thing about los chirchos hombres
we got integrity
we put the gritty into integrity actually
we have tried so so hard not to be part of something silly
something that negated every lyric i ever wrote
something controlled by a buncha people
who are the antithesis made flesh
of every note i ever plucked n let go into eternity
and now
and now
we get these offers
i cant say what they are
you can use yer imagination cant ya?
and so many say
looky looky nevets yeblik
do ya wanna kick a big goal and jus' do this, please
and nevets is saying
uh um im not so certain..but...errr...hang on...wait there
so every time ya see me do something really cheezy
just remember the other 9 i said no to
besides i dont think being a knight
(i am english after all)
i dont think being a knight n playing the bass are mutually exclusive
do you?
anyway
i end up doing a soundcheck
and then drifting round oxford street
which is the gay area
and you see lotsa fellas holding hands
aw how sweet they must be real good friends
cmon!
and theres yoga studios
sex shoppes
2 dollar shops
cd shops (almost empty)
a million cafes n restys
gaybars
pubs for working class oiks like me
and a loada other boutiquey bullshitty things
i end up in the park quietly smokin my pot
when 2 coppers come riding along
on pushbikes shining torches
as luck wood have it
ive just finished said number
so i just drops it down the drain
the coppers bike up
and sniff the air suspiciously
but seeing theyre both about 21
and im about 52
i mean it just must be embarrassing to arrest some old 'ippy
for blowing a bone in le parc
its about as dangerous n threatening
as a cornered snail
so the cops after a little tut tutting
ride off to catch some real baddies
(and theyre out there, baybee!)
so i go off to la gig
i chat to matt outside
a nice cat
i get up to do my gig
there aint too many people here really
maybe 40 or 50
anyway i start playing
and
my 12 string sounds nice
i start with neverness hoax
i enjoy hearing my deep voice reverberate round the room
"have i told ya bout the neverness hoax?"
and i can feel the spell out there
taking over me
doin' all the work
the words flowin down to my throat
you can hear the experience in my voice now
you can hear the wear n tear off my life
but my voice also says
these songs are sung with love n care
because i can insinuate things with my voice
with my phrasing
with inflections n vibrato n whispering n falsetto
i can tell more stories than one
in one song
and the lyrics to this song are kinda interesting
it aint fuckin' bouy meats gurl thats for sure
anyway i get started
and blow me down
if there aint a large dark haired lady
carrying on a conversation
at screaming pitch
like unbeleavably loud
shes ....screaming
anyway
suddenly before i know it
nevets stops the songy
and spits the dummy
and accosts the "lady" in a nasty tone
nevets: madame could you have yer conversation elsewhere
her: no i wanna talk here
nevets : why not over there or wait till im finished
her : no i wanna talk here
nevets tries playing song again
but the "lady"s got her back to us n shes screaming
at the top of her shrill 'orrible bleatin' voice
oh the shame
oh the crime
for nevets deep dulcet tones to be rudely crudely interrupted
by this female oaf...an oaffette
any way nevets stops the song
nevets :i wish youd shutup n go away
oaffette : you cant stop me...youre just the guy from the church
uh oh
nevets sniffs a set up here
i mean she said that with all the practiced assurance
that ive noticed in my kids when theyre trying out
some new complaint theyve heard
it always smacks of rehearsal
and quite clearly our "lady" had prepared this
you see
this was her scene
and i couldnt come in here n boss her around
a guy from audience tells her to shut up
she says to me
is he your only friend here
nevets : yes thats right you philistine
someone in crowd yells
hes got lots of friends here
the crowd cheer
nevets: look here lady lets have some democracy in action
who wants the lady to talk?
a complete silence
a negation of sound
who wants to hear me play my stupid song
much cheering and a resounding YES!
her: i dont care im gonna stand here n talk
people start pulling on her garments
but she stays put
then nevets notices that mosta the little group shes
been screaming to
have mostly drifted away
to avoid being roped in to this fiasco
but one slightly dopey looking geezer remains
nevets addresses him:
and what about you me olde mate
standing there like a great useless puddin' listening to her tripe
suddenly the ineffectual gormless fop skedaddles
hes not up for being abused by some angry old sod up on stage
so he pisses off
ha ha ha
this leaves our screaming friend
with no one left to scream to
so she simply has no choice but to mercifully
disappear
the rest of the gig was then good
i made up some stupid stuff
this is my new thing
making stuff up on the spot
its the acid test of a genius
straight off the top of my head
i just let the muse straight outta her box
anyway they all enjoyed it
and i must admit im pretty damn entertaining
in a showbiz anti hero kinda way
i like the way my voice is going
and i gotta million songs
tho i always do the same old bunch
as an artist i still feel im on the brink of some
breath taking discovery
but it only gets revealed to me bit by bit
over the years
i am wry kind cynical nasty friendly experienced naive
i am totally confident that while there are bigger n better geezas out there
that no one is dishing up my kettle of fish
cos im in control
forget all the bullshit
as a human im just a flawed weak bloke struggling along
but as a writer painter singer player actor
oh im just getting going
and ive put in this long hard apprenticeship
30 odd years
but now baby
now
im a master
dig it
its monstrously vain
of me to declare it so
but im confident that i can tackle
any esoteric conundrum
that i can come up with brilliant stuff
FOREVER
non stop
off the cuff
quick as ya like
just like this blogge
everyday
bang!
there it is!
muse: you big headed old self congratulatory bastard
mum: gee you aint 'alf got tickets on yerself, sonny jim
the chirch : we're gonna be sick
syncophants : go killer!
elephants : hes trumpeting himself again
angry readers : blah blah blah
nevets yeblik : fair enough
john garratt : something pragmatic
most of the world : yawn
insert own entity here : insert own phrase here
so there it all is
a ridiculously immodest buncha baloney
i mean the funny thing is
it is all half true
its hard to be one of the best and keep quiet
(someone help him then)
i guess im just havin a delayed reaction
to the lady
and to walking round darlinghurst
for a cuppla hours
and to the joints
and the red bulls n vodkas
and the sauna
n the swim
n the walk along the promenade
and the long baffling joyful painful
careening life i led up to
walking on that stage lassanite
forgive me
or
forget me
im just trying to write a blogge
and make an 'onest living
bring home the soy bacon
and keep a non asbestos roof over our heads
maybe one day we will walk in the sun (with adequate protection)
cos hippies like us
nevets
we were borne to blogge!
viva la blogge!
7 01 here in nth bondi
lassanite hadda strange time
i was asked by matt from lovetones
to be special guest for show in oxford st "the spectrum"
so i turned up at 7 30 after dropping in on mwp
and discussing another "show biz" offer we keep getting
oh my fiendss
not all publicity IS good publicity
i tried so hard to steer my band clear of schmaltz
n bullshit n award ceremonies n quiz fucking shows
you know last time i checked
renaissance men werent doing quiz shows
aint it funny how they always wanna getcha down to their level
ok the chirch maybe the most spectacularly unsuccessful band
in the history of music
no doubt largely due to my hopeless songs
my squeaky voice
and my ugliness
and now my ridicul;ous olde age
but one thing about los chirchos hombres
we got integrity
we put the gritty into integrity actually
we have tried so so hard not to be part of something silly
something that negated every lyric i ever wrote
something controlled by a buncha people
who are the antithesis made flesh
of every note i ever plucked n let go into eternity
and now
and now
we get these offers
i cant say what they are
you can use yer imagination cant ya?
and so many say
looky looky nevets yeblik
do ya wanna kick a big goal and jus' do this, please
and nevets is saying
uh um im not so certain..but...errr...hang on...wait there
so every time ya see me do something really cheezy
just remember the other 9 i said no to
besides i dont think being a knight
(i am english after all)
i dont think being a knight n playing the bass are mutually exclusive
do you?
anyway
i end up doing a soundcheck
and then drifting round oxford street
which is the gay area
and you see lotsa fellas holding hands
aw how sweet they must be real good friends
cmon!
and theres yoga studios
sex shoppes
2 dollar shops
cd shops (almost empty)
a million cafes n restys
gaybars
pubs for working class oiks like me
and a loada other boutiquey bullshitty things
i end up in the park quietly smokin my pot
when 2 coppers come riding along
on pushbikes shining torches
as luck wood have it
ive just finished said number
so i just drops it down the drain
the coppers bike up
and sniff the air suspiciously
but seeing theyre both about 21
and im about 52
i mean it just must be embarrassing to arrest some old 'ippy
for blowing a bone in le parc
its about as dangerous n threatening
as a cornered snail
so the cops after a little tut tutting
ride off to catch some real baddies
(and theyre out there, baybee!)
so i go off to la gig
i chat to matt outside
a nice cat
i get up to do my gig
there aint too many people here really
maybe 40 or 50
anyway i start playing
and
my 12 string sounds nice
i start with neverness hoax
i enjoy hearing my deep voice reverberate round the room
"have i told ya bout the neverness hoax?"
and i can feel the spell out there
taking over me
doin' all the work
the words flowin down to my throat
you can hear the experience in my voice now
you can hear the wear n tear off my life
but my voice also says
these songs are sung with love n care
because i can insinuate things with my voice
with my phrasing
with inflections n vibrato n whispering n falsetto
i can tell more stories than one
in one song
and the lyrics to this song are kinda interesting
it aint fuckin' bouy meats gurl thats for sure
anyway i get started
and blow me down
if there aint a large dark haired lady
carrying on a conversation
at screaming pitch
like unbeleavably loud
shes ....screaming
anyway
suddenly before i know it
nevets stops the songy
and spits the dummy
and accosts the "lady" in a nasty tone
nevets: madame could you have yer conversation elsewhere
her: no i wanna talk here
nevets : why not over there or wait till im finished
her : no i wanna talk here
nevets tries playing song again
but the "lady"s got her back to us n shes screaming
at the top of her shrill 'orrible bleatin' voice
oh the shame
oh the crime
for nevets deep dulcet tones to be rudely crudely interrupted
by this female oaf...an oaffette
any way nevets stops the song
nevets :i wish youd shutup n go away
oaffette : you cant stop me...youre just the guy from the church
uh oh
nevets sniffs a set up here
i mean she said that with all the practiced assurance
that ive noticed in my kids when theyre trying out
some new complaint theyve heard
it always smacks of rehearsal
and quite clearly our "lady" had prepared this
you see
this was her scene
and i couldnt come in here n boss her around
a guy from audience tells her to shut up
she says to me
is he your only friend here
nevets : yes thats right you philistine
someone in crowd yells
hes got lots of friends here
the crowd cheer
nevets: look here lady lets have some democracy in action
who wants the lady to talk?
a complete silence
a negation of sound
who wants to hear me play my stupid song
much cheering and a resounding YES!
her: i dont care im gonna stand here n talk
people start pulling on her garments
but she stays put
then nevets notices that mosta the little group shes
been screaming to
have mostly drifted away
to avoid being roped in to this fiasco
but one slightly dopey looking geezer remains
nevets addresses him:
and what about you me olde mate
standing there like a great useless puddin' listening to her tripe
suddenly the ineffectual gormless fop skedaddles
hes not up for being abused by some angry old sod up on stage
so he pisses off
ha ha ha
this leaves our screaming friend
with no one left to scream to
so she simply has no choice but to mercifully
disappear
the rest of the gig was then good
i made up some stupid stuff
this is my new thing
making stuff up on the spot
its the acid test of a genius
straight off the top of my head
i just let the muse straight outta her box
anyway they all enjoyed it
and i must admit im pretty damn entertaining
in a showbiz anti hero kinda way
i like the way my voice is going
and i gotta million songs
tho i always do the same old bunch
as an artist i still feel im on the brink of some
breath taking discovery
but it only gets revealed to me bit by bit
over the years
i am wry kind cynical nasty friendly experienced naive
i am totally confident that while there are bigger n better geezas out there
that no one is dishing up my kettle of fish
cos im in control
forget all the bullshit
as a human im just a flawed weak bloke struggling along
but as a writer painter singer player actor
oh im just getting going
and ive put in this long hard apprenticeship
30 odd years
but now baby
now
im a master
dig it
its monstrously vain
of me to declare it so
but im confident that i can tackle
any esoteric conundrum
that i can come up with brilliant stuff
FOREVER
non stop
off the cuff
quick as ya like
just like this blogge
everyday
bang!
there it is!
muse: you big headed old self congratulatory bastard
mum: gee you aint 'alf got tickets on yerself, sonny jim
the chirch : we're gonna be sick
syncophants : go killer!
elephants : hes trumpeting himself again
angry readers : blah blah blah
nevets yeblik : fair enough
john garratt : something pragmatic
most of the world : yawn
insert own entity here : insert own phrase here
so there it all is
a ridiculously immodest buncha baloney
i mean the funny thing is
it is all half true
its hard to be one of the best and keep quiet
(someone help him then)
i guess im just havin a delayed reaction
to the lady
and to walking round darlinghurst
for a cuppla hours
and to the joints
and the red bulls n vodkas
and the sauna
n the swim
n the walk along the promenade
and the long baffling joyful painful
careening life i led up to
walking on that stage lassanite
forgive me
or
forget me
im just trying to write a blogge
and make an 'onest living
bring home the soy bacon
and keep a non asbestos roof over our heads
maybe one day we will walk in the sun (with adequate protection)
cos hippies like us
nevets
we were borne to blogge!
viva la blogge!
Friday, March 09, 2007
from an occult diary 3
no one who reads this will believe it
ah thats too bad
i write for my muse and her alone
to her are these things are dedicated
lady autumn has come
and white flowers spell my name on green grass
twice a medieval spell has been directed at me
i watch my mirror but no sign of you
everything has significance
how could it be otherwise?
someone must be having such a laugh
its all there out in the open
so blindingly bloody obvious
im still saying where where?
show it to me
i have arranged pebbles in the tetragrammaton
i have burned messages to the dead
i have written my wishes in silver on black paper
at aphrodites altar have i laid sacrifice
and hermes god of magicians no stranger
no stranger i am a stranger myself
i know not this island or the remedy to your suffering
my dreams blur and undulate across watercolour hills
people accost me rudely
i am challenged by the south wind
coming up from antarctica
i feel old suddenly
ha ha says time
you really thought itd go on forever
i have observed unseen constellations in the sky
i have contacted an intelligence within the walls
i have calculated an alternative calendar
and every second tuesday is now given back
there is no reality
i am able to get here so quickly
i am at last a computer poet with asterisks
i am the astral traveller in negative armour
white letters on blackground
i am the most ambiguous man alive
my ambiguity surrounds me like a cushioning fog
here in my verse i am invulnerable
its driving me mad being me
obviously
the seasons personally torture me
summer tied me down under a sunlap
and burnt a blue circle behind my eyes
autumn is a grey ghostly bitch
i am held motionless
suspended in embalming mist
winter is an absence
the world shrieks out in agony
frost and heartbreak attend winter
spring is barbarous
the birds strike
the fish bite
the bees sting
the flowers come out in gaudy patches
that make my old head ache
the days of the week are all people to me
a pack of cards contains my next doomed choice
the suicide king and his sad wife
i roll the dice
i smoke the weed
i notice cryptograms in sand and snow
i bump into people presumed missing
i get caught in nets
music is from the middle ages
the dark ages of black magic
oh you lived then
so did i
no no dont drag me back there
i seek the future
bleak as it it maybe
they burnt everything
my house my trees my sisters
my youngest fled into the flaming woods
my little scarlet clad girl
now i turn my back on pasts
i see the clouds have formed a threatening funnel
and the dark maw in the sky
is sucking at my soul
angels are around my bed in the morning
i see them thru my eyelids
i hear them with my hands
but they never say why or where
the autumnal sun is haloed in orange cloud
the sea churns dull green grey
the sky has blanched to the palest only just blue
and sand is forever in the sheets
these are the days then
of gentle dissolution
of fading out
quiet time
calm
end
ah thats too bad
i write for my muse and her alone
to her are these things are dedicated
lady autumn has come
and white flowers spell my name on green grass
twice a medieval spell has been directed at me
i watch my mirror but no sign of you
everything has significance
how could it be otherwise?
someone must be having such a laugh
its all there out in the open
so blindingly bloody obvious
im still saying where where?
show it to me
i have arranged pebbles in the tetragrammaton
i have burned messages to the dead
i have written my wishes in silver on black paper
at aphrodites altar have i laid sacrifice
and hermes god of magicians no stranger
no stranger i am a stranger myself
i know not this island or the remedy to your suffering
my dreams blur and undulate across watercolour hills
people accost me rudely
i am challenged by the south wind
coming up from antarctica
i feel old suddenly
ha ha says time
you really thought itd go on forever
i have observed unseen constellations in the sky
i have contacted an intelligence within the walls
i have calculated an alternative calendar
and every second tuesday is now given back
there is no reality
i am able to get here so quickly
i am at last a computer poet with asterisks
i am the astral traveller in negative armour
white letters on blackground
i am the most ambiguous man alive
my ambiguity surrounds me like a cushioning fog
here in my verse i am invulnerable
its driving me mad being me
obviously
the seasons personally torture me
summer tied me down under a sunlap
and burnt a blue circle behind my eyes
autumn is a grey ghostly bitch
i am held motionless
suspended in embalming mist
winter is an absence
the world shrieks out in agony
frost and heartbreak attend winter
spring is barbarous
the birds strike
the fish bite
the bees sting
the flowers come out in gaudy patches
that make my old head ache
the days of the week are all people to me
a pack of cards contains my next doomed choice
the suicide king and his sad wife
i roll the dice
i smoke the weed
i notice cryptograms in sand and snow
i bump into people presumed missing
i get caught in nets
music is from the middle ages
the dark ages of black magic
oh you lived then
so did i
no no dont drag me back there
i seek the future
bleak as it it maybe
they burnt everything
my house my trees my sisters
my youngest fled into the flaming woods
my little scarlet clad girl
now i turn my back on pasts
i see the clouds have formed a threatening funnel
and the dark maw in the sky
is sucking at my soul
angels are around my bed in the morning
i see them thru my eyelids
i hear them with my hands
but they never say why or where
the autumnal sun is haloed in orange cloud
the sea churns dull green grey
the sky has blanched to the palest only just blue
and sand is forever in the sheets
these are the days then
of gentle dissolution
of fading out
quiet time
calm
end
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