a big black moth flew in
from the whirling dusk
where the wind lost its mind
blowing in all directions at once
throttling the flowers
hurling petals a round
velvet darkness has fallen like a curtain
utter luxury of warm night surrounding me like a second skin
the night which caresses me
like a twin
the identical moon
named and nameless stars
nepalese fingers meddle
trees run out of room in the sky
this night is delicious it has become uncontainable
this darling night with its white pinpoints
a gorgeous creature of a night
all feminine and warmsoft
oh night find your mouth and kiss me
oh night be forever open
open like the vastness you cover
as you ride the sea
and soar over the sand
who are these birds still singing?
oh i am an egg in the nest
oh i am the bursting bud on the branch
oh i am the soft moaning evening
on the eve of springs second month
and my moth flew into your dwelling
where my daughters dance in your dreams
my lovely daughters from pleasure realms
where there are no weekdays
where trees grow on money
and people shoot up silver colliding in trance
yes and i the eternal night
who rules all space and spaces
say this to you because i need a voice
i say the day you see is shortlived and soon faded
everything returns into me unto me
i was there and i am there and i will be there
the day is a fantasy
a glitch in continuity
the day is light stretched thin
the day is impermanent
eventually all days end in night
and in time
night will swallow day forever
the night had spoken
her introjected silent voice ceased
my ears drown in the silence that came in her wake
the moth lands on a wall in the kitchen
black moth on white wall
beautiful little big moth that you are
part of the night
a little piece gone from the puzzle
here here im rearranging things again
for the sake of my friend the night
the 30th of september night
who i call the duchess of darkness
an exquisite night full of notice
ha you would succumb too
even you daylovers and suntrippers
lightfreaks gambling in the mornings
even you afternooners in the shadow of twilight
my my baby you love to move through this tonight
i carved my wand from ash and i charged it with thought
the night endows it with her subtle power
the night who i salute to boot
the night i have produced on your screen
the night i engineered on our behalf
the night you got me for my birthdays
the night you found on the bottom of a pool
the night you dreamed of a night like this
the night that was nigh
a night like a knight
nightlife
nightfighter
nightsuit
nightwings
nightfeeler
nightlove
moth
night
moth
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Saturday, September 29, 2007
stranger still
another weird day
i arrive in cold stormy melb
after leaving warm glamourous sydney
after waiting round for 1 n a half hours
my guitar failed to emerge
so i went off axeless
(without my instrument...i felt..so ashamed)
i turn up at david birdies house
a man of few words
he concurs that we'll just "wing" it at the gig
that means we'll improvise n hope for the best
hes gotta great studio out back of his house
avec grande piano et al
anyway after an eccentric ride into melbo
we load in our gear
i get on an endless phone queue
to find out where my irreplaceable guild guitar is
i feel really unanchored knowing its floating round melbo without me
david b n i rehearse one song together
he joins effortlessly in on teachers by lenny c
wow ok mr birdie youll do nicely
polinski n i do a jap dinner
during which a friend of polinski needles me
bout vegetarianism then god
but i dont lose it
back to gig
there i met melbo gang
sam s
don b
e g lee
david b turns up seeming impossibly untogether
everybodies talking at/to him at once
he mumbles n mutters n shrugs n twitches
but he goes on n does a lovely set
about 3 quarters way in i join him n play some rudimentary bass
then he splits n i do my thing
i still have a bit of match fitness
and i do fairly well without forgetting words or muffing chords
after a while mr db comes back on
and the real magic begins for me
we do providence
ramble
keeper
neverness hoax
hes never heard the songs before
let alone played em
i read an excerpt from fruit mach n he accompanies me
don b said this worked very well
then we do a long long medley
starting with invisible
chrunch fans woulda already seen this coming before
but this one goes on n on
swallowing up other songs with the same simple chords
d b is sure a great keys player
to jump in n knock it off like hes played em a million times before
this medley goes n goes
taking in all kindsa other bits n pieces
and then bang
it ends
david b packs up mutters good bye
and that we should do it again
yes please david anytime olde son
oh yeah n my guitar turns up during 2nd number
e g lee tunes it n whammo
oh mutch mutch better
this guild is my sound
i sign some autographs
fruit machine sells out n i sign em gladly
i talk to some fiendss n fanss
some of em shy
some drunk n overthetop
bellowing stuff at me
ah what the....!?
theres the little lord n mr d
we go round for a cuppa herbal tea
n finally i stay at donaldos cosy gaffe in elwood
we stay up talking n talking
and tis a weary killer who greets you now
fly back home at 2 oclock
love
me
i arrive in cold stormy melb
after leaving warm glamourous sydney
after waiting round for 1 n a half hours
my guitar failed to emerge
so i went off axeless
(without my instrument...i felt..so ashamed)
i turn up at david birdies house
a man of few words
he concurs that we'll just "wing" it at the gig
that means we'll improvise n hope for the best
hes gotta great studio out back of his house
avec grande piano et al
anyway after an eccentric ride into melbo
we load in our gear
i get on an endless phone queue
to find out where my irreplaceable guild guitar is
i feel really unanchored knowing its floating round melbo without me
david b n i rehearse one song together
he joins effortlessly in on teachers by lenny c
wow ok mr birdie youll do nicely
polinski n i do a jap dinner
during which a friend of polinski needles me
bout vegetarianism then god
but i dont lose it
back to gig
there i met melbo gang
sam s
don b
e g lee
david b turns up seeming impossibly untogether
everybodies talking at/to him at once
he mumbles n mutters n shrugs n twitches
but he goes on n does a lovely set
about 3 quarters way in i join him n play some rudimentary bass
then he splits n i do my thing
i still have a bit of match fitness
and i do fairly well without forgetting words or muffing chords
after a while mr db comes back on
and the real magic begins for me
we do providence
ramble
keeper
neverness hoax
hes never heard the songs before
let alone played em
i read an excerpt from fruit mach n he accompanies me
don b said this worked very well
then we do a long long medley
starting with invisible
chrunch fans woulda already seen this coming before
but this one goes on n on
swallowing up other songs with the same simple chords
d b is sure a great keys player
to jump in n knock it off like hes played em a million times before
this medley goes n goes
taking in all kindsa other bits n pieces
and then bang
it ends
david b packs up mutters good bye
and that we should do it again
yes please david anytime olde son
oh yeah n my guitar turns up during 2nd number
e g lee tunes it n whammo
oh mutch mutch better
this guild is my sound
i sign some autographs
fruit machine sells out n i sign em gladly
i talk to some fiendss n fanss
some of em shy
some drunk n overthetop
bellowing stuff at me
ah what the....!?
theres the little lord n mr d
we go round for a cuppa herbal tea
n finally i stay at donaldos cosy gaffe in elwood
we stay up talking n talking
and tis a weary killer who greets you now
fly back home at 2 oclock
love
me
Thursday, September 27, 2007
concert pitch fork lift home wood bound
come round the corner
i see a fleur de lis
formed by 2 lizards biting a third lizard
on either side just below the head
this 12 legged monster enjoined in the rites of spring
can go vertical or horizontal
it seems not to matter much
up and down the suncaked orange baked bricks
the lizards all flip around
trying to get on top of the others
sometimes other lizards appear
their heads popping up from the grass
and outta the bricks
their sleek brown bodies glint in the sun
i pick up on the lizards wavelength
they are not at all afraid of me
they say
they can intuit goodwill
however they fear my clumsiness
im standing very still then i communicate
good say the lizards all together
suddenly i'm aware of the reptilian rustle
the lizard airwavelengths are valve bouncing out
like sparks in the static
like a field of electric and aromatic information
like the fine tuning of a microscope
like the individual markings n tiny perfect scales
the deep beauty in the lizards eye
betrayed by their violent congress
is there no romance?
i think-ask them
no none says one
unless its loving on the face of a wall
the sunlight warming your cold blood up and up
the light penetrating your scales
filling your head with a dazzling boiling colour
red expoding slowly into purple blue
as you become warmer you become faster
taking advantage of the velocity of the light
the chatter in the field multiplies
we apprehend messages
we perceive subtle changes in conditions
as the sunlight intensifies
as it beats down on our absorbing hides
yes as we drink in the sun
and our veins fill with its fire
we are dragons in all but size
filled with fiery anger and desire
filled with springs imprecations
filled with lusts angles and slips
we bite into each other
and remain
with jaws clamped tight
until dislodged by night
i see a fleur de lis
formed by 2 lizards biting a third lizard
on either side just below the head
this 12 legged monster enjoined in the rites of spring
can go vertical or horizontal
it seems not to matter much
up and down the suncaked orange baked bricks
the lizards all flip around
trying to get on top of the others
sometimes other lizards appear
their heads popping up from the grass
and outta the bricks
their sleek brown bodies glint in the sun
i pick up on the lizards wavelength
they are not at all afraid of me
they say
they can intuit goodwill
however they fear my clumsiness
im standing very still then i communicate
good say the lizards all together
suddenly i'm aware of the reptilian rustle
the lizard airwavelengths are valve bouncing out
like sparks in the static
like a field of electric and aromatic information
like the fine tuning of a microscope
like the individual markings n tiny perfect scales
the deep beauty in the lizards eye
betrayed by their violent congress
is there no romance?
i think-ask them
no none says one
unless its loving on the face of a wall
the sunlight warming your cold blood up and up
the light penetrating your scales
filling your head with a dazzling boiling colour
red expoding slowly into purple blue
as you become warmer you become faster
taking advantage of the velocity of the light
the chatter in the field multiplies
we apprehend messages
we perceive subtle changes in conditions
as the sunlight intensifies
as it beats down on our absorbing hides
yes as we drink in the sun
and our veins fill with its fire
we are dragons in all but size
filled with fiery anger and desire
filled with springs imprecations
filled with lusts angles and slips
we bite into each other
and remain
with jaws clamped tight
until dislodged by night
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
the song n its singer
imagine all those lovely songs as yet unwritten
think of all the divine music you may never hear
what is a song?
how would you explain a song to an alien?
music n words that go hand in hand
is a bad song still a song?
yes, because people still like bad songs
what is a good song?
a song that is a spell
what is a spell?
to be able to influence people or events
as though you had power over them
what do good songs make you feel?
that youre not alone
what is a song that many people agree is a "good" song
suzanne by lenny cohen
discuss
"suzanne takes you down to her place near the river"
by starting with suzanne
the singer implies you already know suzanne
or have at least heard of her
by suzanne being the first word in the song
i am suddenly forced to throw together a rapid image
of her in my mind
yes, the song is called suzanne
but before hearing it
i expected that in the song somewhere
suzanne would be sung about
but i did not necessarily think
it was someone that i already must know
or would get to know
cohen almost sings of her
as if he is passing her on to me
and i already know a lot about her
and her place by the river
the water flows
its incessant journey
its swelling and its diminishing
an exotic place
i can see it
in british columbia or somewhere
its summer
i see the overgrown white apartment
suzanne has a balcony or deck
the trees rustle n move in the warm breezes
its bohemian but its still very upmarket sixties
"you can hear the boats go by
you can spend the night beside her"
notice cohen is saying "you"
not i did this or that
but you
its ambiguity is delightful
is it a prediction
a possibility
or just a manner of speech?
(ie:you can get to canberra in 2 hours these days....
you can buy tickets when you arrive )
and her place is right beside the river if you can hear the boats
and arent you n suzanne just ships in the night as well...
cohen knows you can spend the night beside her too
something in this implies
suzanne maybe a woman of some promiscuity
a free lovin' hippy
if you want to spend the night beside her...
well you can
i'm also feeling a certain bitterness
cohen spent that night
n now its your turn
he was just another bloke
another notch on suzannes bedpost
"and you know that shes half crazy
but thats why you wanna be there"
ok now hes really casting aspersions
on her
himself
and you
the woman is a little unbalanced
cohen realised that himself
and it turned him on
and he also reckons itll turn "you " on
this half mad free loving woman with her groovy pad
next to that lovely churning river
with its beautiful n mysterious boats
whose destinations are unknown to us
suzannes lunacy is attractive in some sick(ly) way
oh i guess weve all met people like that
but im starting to feel a bit nervous about her
like
am i just exploiting her madness?
am i too straight for her glorious insanity?
"she feeds ya tea n oranges that come all the way from china"
like shes hand feeding ya the oranges
popping those juicy segments into your mouth with her fingers
those expensive chinese oranges...they must costa fortune
and the sweet tea
the ceremony
the feeling of ritual in its preparation n serving
"and just when you mean to tell her
you got no love to give her"
oh oh youre backing out now
youre looking for an escape route
maybe suzanne is crazier or dirtier than you imagined
maybe you aint got love for her or anyone
you were just looking for a night in her bed
you dont want anything serious
now you had the night
the tea
the oranges
the half craziness
its enough
youre getting ready to say some stumbling excuse
when
"she gets you on her wavelength and lets the river answer
that youve always been her lover"
ok
suzanne totally outmanoevres you here
shes crazy and psychic
she saw your bullshit coming and shes cutting you short
she tunes right into your mind
wavelength...a particularly "sixties" word
a crazy hippy nympho term
man, suzannes got yer number tho
she anticipates you
and then
metaphysically
metaphorically
the river itself
her permanent companion n neighbour
the great flowing river that carries men hither n thither
the river who has seen the whole thing
the river who has flowed since time immemorial
who meanders over deltas
and rushes in the mountains
the river speaks for suzanne
the river answers your excuse
before you have even said it
and it says
in its watery tongue
which it insinuates in your mind somehow
youve always been her lover
as a thing which truly understands the word always
the river utters these winged words
always been her lover
you are more than a one night johnny, mister
youre connexion is so deep
ha you dont even realise
you never see the layers of reality
the deep implications
but suzanne has fucking shocked you
shes telepathic with a talking river
which is in cahoots with this.....witch
and the river says
man tho i am myself verily deep
druid you are in deep with ms suzanne
you and her go way back
you may have forgotten
but suzanne herself
remembering through her lives
and i
the eternal river
flowing since gods beginning
we have not forgotten
arent you in awe of this woman?
do you know what youve gotten yourself into?
this musta happened like this for lenny too
cos hes warning you in his weary voice
its a prediction, after all, isnt it
these things will happen to you
as they did to me
and presumably a whole host of men
connected to suzanne
as she gently manipulates them
for her own crazy (hmmm, is she really?) ends
"and you want to travel with her
and you want to travel blind
and she knows that she can trust you
cos youve touched her perfect body
with your mind"
now youre convinced
now you wanna know and go wherever she wants
travel
where to?
what kinda voyage would it be being blind?
or will you travel willy-nilly
with no care for arriving anywhere
and once again cohens slightly bitter accusation
(now in the past tense)
that youve touched her perfect body
(and who would know better than him how perfect)
but you touched it with your mind
but you touched it with your fingers too
lenny somehow implies
there was an exchange
a body for a mind
suzanne let you have her
cos youre vaguely interesting
although cohen and the river
see right through you
in the next verse
cohen introduces unexpectedly
like a bolt from the blue
the last person you expected to encounter
in this riverside sensual extrasensual weirdass song
it cant be..... its...
"jesus was a sailor when he walked upon the water
and he spent a longtime watching from his lonely wooden tower"
suddenly you feel guilty
you been making out with suzy n
having weird psychic conversations with rivers
and freely enjoying the permissive n groovy free love sixties
when jesus appears
christ, leonards jewish as well
so we picking up lots of things here
the song has exploded wide open
and jesus and the sea of galilee have come through
hang on though
how does lenny feel about jesus though?
the whole of this verse is rather fictional
jesus was a fisherman but not a sailor per se
which wooden tower was he watching from then?
a crows nest or turret aboard a biblical fishing boat 33 ad?
or a lighthouse?
or a fortress?
theres no wooden towers in the gospels i can think of
cohen seems vague on what jesus was purported or not to have done
"and when he was certain only drowning men could see him
he said all men shall be sailors then until the sky shall free them"
this isnt exactly what jesus said at all
but how many could tell you that
cohen sings with such sombre authority
you could believe its the gospel truth...geddit?
imagine those drowners as they go down
seeing the soles of his feet
as he carefully treads the waves
like a surfer with out a board
and suddenly seeing a chance yet at salvation
the drowners furtively pray to him
but jesus wants more than the desperates
he wants your heart before it is an emergency
come out of love
not out of fear
and why shall the sky free them
when the sea is the sailors element?
does he mean freed by heavens judgement?
does he mean the stars in sky which light the sailors way?
"but he himself was broken long before the sky would open
abandoned almost human
he sank beneath your wisdom like a stone"
meanwhile where is suzanne in all this?
shes temporarily forgotten...
and,yes in one way christ was broken before the sky would open
in a way cohen echoes the taunts of the romans n pharisees
why dont yer god save ya now, druid?
as jesus was mercilessly banged up on the excruciating cross
cohen also implies the freedom the skies could grant was rain
going on with the river and ocean
(surely tears cant be far away??!!)
anyway now christ is abandoned
by cohen
by the jews
by the romans
and almost by you
youre almost at the end of this verse
suddenly youre losing interest in the man of sorrows
he who was abandoned by almost everyone
sold
denied
left to his fate
and now
despite cohen telling you his sad story
you have used your "wisdom" to push him away
he actually sinks into your watery subconscious
and on into oblivion
a heavy inanimate object
in the end
although he could once walk on water
he ends up sinking anyway
"and you want to travel with him
and you want to travel blind
you know you can trust him
hes touched your perfect body with his mind"
more travel/voyages
christ and his retinue of saved souls picking up momentum
but always into the unknown travelling blind
now hes touched your body your heart
with his mind his heart
hes saying go back to suzanne now
but a little part of me may go on in you
"suzanne takes your hand and leads you to the river
shes wearing rags n feathers from salvation army counters"
youve left her place
now youre going down down to the river itself
you seem a bit unwilling or unable
or you dont know where youre going
or why else is she leading you
one things for sure
her dress is a bit embarrassing to you
rags n feathers
2nd hand at that
shes a crazy scruff
but somehow she has some of christs attributes
rubbed off from the second verse
you try to understand her bizarre attire
"the sun pours down like honey on our lady of the harbour"
ah a beatific vision..
suzanne as whore with a halo
martyred beatnik wisewoman crazybitch
how are you feeling about her now?
a seeress
an angel of destiny
the sunlight is so warm without burning
its a lovely moment
there on the shoreline
the river is now a harbour
and suzanne is its patron saint
she is so much more than you could dream possible
its a photo opportunity
"and she shows you were to look among the garbage and the flowers
there are heroes in the sea weed, there are children in the morning"
suzanne
like all saints
can let you see the marvellous in the mundane
she needs to show you where to look
otherwise you may not have noticed
the beauty in every single thing
in the 2 extremes of garbage and flowers
in all things
in the seaweed the heroes
what does this mean?
nothing
except to look for the miraculous constantly
or is cohen referring back to our drowners n sinking jesus
surely heroes all now down amongst the seaweed
but still worthy of your remembrance
and of course
the children
the future
the innocent ones
the lambs
the ones you could still yet help
suzanne now reveals them
the hope for this dizzy world
suzanne is a voice for the phantom children yet to be born
or are they suzannes own children
running in to mother in the morning
only to find you and or lenny cohen in there too?
"they are leaning out for love
they will lean that way forever
while suzanne holds the mirror"
leaning out of where...the mirror?
leaning out of that symbolically future morning
into the present day?
anyway
they like all children need love
they always do and always will
even these children in the future
however suzanne seems to have suspended them there in time
as long as she needs to
forever if necessary
suzanne does things in forevers after all
and only when the love is truly available
from you or any other lover
only if you will love the children you may conceive
will she allow them to materialise
there you go
probably not one of these thoughts occurred to lc
when he wrote it
its just my interpretation
think of all the divine music you may never hear
what is a song?
how would you explain a song to an alien?
music n words that go hand in hand
is a bad song still a song?
yes, because people still like bad songs
what is a good song?
a song that is a spell
what is a spell?
to be able to influence people or events
as though you had power over them
what do good songs make you feel?
that youre not alone
what is a song that many people agree is a "good" song
suzanne by lenny cohen
discuss
"suzanne takes you down to her place near the river"
by starting with suzanne
the singer implies you already know suzanne
or have at least heard of her
by suzanne being the first word in the song
i am suddenly forced to throw together a rapid image
of her in my mind
yes, the song is called suzanne
but before hearing it
i expected that in the song somewhere
suzanne would be sung about
but i did not necessarily think
it was someone that i already must know
or would get to know
cohen almost sings of her
as if he is passing her on to me
and i already know a lot about her
and her place by the river
the water flows
its incessant journey
its swelling and its diminishing
an exotic place
i can see it
in british columbia or somewhere
its summer
i see the overgrown white apartment
suzanne has a balcony or deck
the trees rustle n move in the warm breezes
its bohemian but its still very upmarket sixties
"you can hear the boats go by
you can spend the night beside her"
notice cohen is saying "you"
not i did this or that
but you
its ambiguity is delightful
is it a prediction
a possibility
or just a manner of speech?
(ie:you can get to canberra in 2 hours these days....
you can buy tickets when you arrive )
and her place is right beside the river if you can hear the boats
and arent you n suzanne just ships in the night as well...
cohen knows you can spend the night beside her too
something in this implies
suzanne maybe a woman of some promiscuity
a free lovin' hippy
if you want to spend the night beside her...
well you can
i'm also feeling a certain bitterness
cohen spent that night
n now its your turn
he was just another bloke
another notch on suzannes bedpost
"and you know that shes half crazy
but thats why you wanna be there"
ok now hes really casting aspersions
on her
himself
and you
the woman is a little unbalanced
cohen realised that himself
and it turned him on
and he also reckons itll turn "you " on
this half mad free loving woman with her groovy pad
next to that lovely churning river
with its beautiful n mysterious boats
whose destinations are unknown to us
suzannes lunacy is attractive in some sick(ly) way
oh i guess weve all met people like that
but im starting to feel a bit nervous about her
like
am i just exploiting her madness?
am i too straight for her glorious insanity?
"she feeds ya tea n oranges that come all the way from china"
like shes hand feeding ya the oranges
popping those juicy segments into your mouth with her fingers
those expensive chinese oranges...they must costa fortune
and the sweet tea
the ceremony
the feeling of ritual in its preparation n serving
"and just when you mean to tell her
you got no love to give her"
oh oh youre backing out now
youre looking for an escape route
maybe suzanne is crazier or dirtier than you imagined
maybe you aint got love for her or anyone
you were just looking for a night in her bed
you dont want anything serious
now you had the night
the tea
the oranges
the half craziness
its enough
youre getting ready to say some stumbling excuse
when
"she gets you on her wavelength and lets the river answer
that youve always been her lover"
ok
suzanne totally outmanoevres you here
shes crazy and psychic
she saw your bullshit coming and shes cutting you short
she tunes right into your mind
wavelength...a particularly "sixties" word
a crazy hippy nympho term
man, suzannes got yer number tho
she anticipates you
and then
metaphysically
metaphorically
the river itself
her permanent companion n neighbour
the great flowing river that carries men hither n thither
the river who has seen the whole thing
the river who has flowed since time immemorial
who meanders over deltas
and rushes in the mountains
the river speaks for suzanne
the river answers your excuse
before you have even said it
and it says
in its watery tongue
which it insinuates in your mind somehow
youve always been her lover
as a thing which truly understands the word always
the river utters these winged words
always been her lover
you are more than a one night johnny, mister
youre connexion is so deep
ha you dont even realise
you never see the layers of reality
the deep implications
but suzanne has fucking shocked you
shes telepathic with a talking river
which is in cahoots with this.....witch
and the river says
man tho i am myself verily deep
druid you are in deep with ms suzanne
you and her go way back
you may have forgotten
but suzanne herself
remembering through her lives
and i
the eternal river
flowing since gods beginning
we have not forgotten
arent you in awe of this woman?
do you know what youve gotten yourself into?
this musta happened like this for lenny too
cos hes warning you in his weary voice
its a prediction, after all, isnt it
these things will happen to you
as they did to me
and presumably a whole host of men
connected to suzanne
as she gently manipulates them
for her own crazy (hmmm, is she really?) ends
"and you want to travel with her
and you want to travel blind
and she knows that she can trust you
cos youve touched her perfect body
with your mind"
now youre convinced
now you wanna know and go wherever she wants
travel
where to?
what kinda voyage would it be being blind?
or will you travel willy-nilly
with no care for arriving anywhere
and once again cohens slightly bitter accusation
(now in the past tense)
that youve touched her perfect body
(and who would know better than him how perfect)
but you touched it with your mind
but you touched it with your fingers too
lenny somehow implies
there was an exchange
a body for a mind
suzanne let you have her
cos youre vaguely interesting
although cohen and the river
see right through you
in the next verse
cohen introduces unexpectedly
like a bolt from the blue
the last person you expected to encounter
in this riverside sensual extrasensual weirdass song
it cant be..... its...
"jesus was a sailor when he walked upon the water
and he spent a longtime watching from his lonely wooden tower"
suddenly you feel guilty
you been making out with suzy n
having weird psychic conversations with rivers
and freely enjoying the permissive n groovy free love sixties
when jesus appears
christ, leonards jewish as well
so we picking up lots of things here
the song has exploded wide open
and jesus and the sea of galilee have come through
hang on though
how does lenny feel about jesus though?
the whole of this verse is rather fictional
jesus was a fisherman but not a sailor per se
which wooden tower was he watching from then?
a crows nest or turret aboard a biblical fishing boat 33 ad?
or a lighthouse?
or a fortress?
theres no wooden towers in the gospels i can think of
cohen seems vague on what jesus was purported or not to have done
"and when he was certain only drowning men could see him
he said all men shall be sailors then until the sky shall free them"
this isnt exactly what jesus said at all
but how many could tell you that
cohen sings with such sombre authority
you could believe its the gospel truth...geddit?
imagine those drowners as they go down
seeing the soles of his feet
as he carefully treads the waves
like a surfer with out a board
and suddenly seeing a chance yet at salvation
the drowners furtively pray to him
but jesus wants more than the desperates
he wants your heart before it is an emergency
come out of love
not out of fear
and why shall the sky free them
when the sea is the sailors element?
does he mean freed by heavens judgement?
does he mean the stars in sky which light the sailors way?
"but he himself was broken long before the sky would open
abandoned almost human
he sank beneath your wisdom like a stone"
meanwhile where is suzanne in all this?
shes temporarily forgotten...
and,yes in one way christ was broken before the sky would open
in a way cohen echoes the taunts of the romans n pharisees
why dont yer god save ya now, druid?
as jesus was mercilessly banged up on the excruciating cross
cohen also implies the freedom the skies could grant was rain
going on with the river and ocean
(surely tears cant be far away??!!)
anyway now christ is abandoned
by cohen
by the jews
by the romans
and almost by you
youre almost at the end of this verse
suddenly youre losing interest in the man of sorrows
he who was abandoned by almost everyone
sold
denied
left to his fate
and now
despite cohen telling you his sad story
you have used your "wisdom" to push him away
he actually sinks into your watery subconscious
and on into oblivion
a heavy inanimate object
in the end
although he could once walk on water
he ends up sinking anyway
"and you want to travel with him
and you want to travel blind
you know you can trust him
hes touched your perfect body with his mind"
more travel/voyages
christ and his retinue of saved souls picking up momentum
but always into the unknown travelling blind
now hes touched your body your heart
with his mind his heart
hes saying go back to suzanne now
but a little part of me may go on in you
"suzanne takes your hand and leads you to the river
shes wearing rags n feathers from salvation army counters"
youve left her place
now youre going down down to the river itself
you seem a bit unwilling or unable
or you dont know where youre going
or why else is she leading you
one things for sure
her dress is a bit embarrassing to you
rags n feathers
2nd hand at that
shes a crazy scruff
but somehow she has some of christs attributes
rubbed off from the second verse
you try to understand her bizarre attire
"the sun pours down like honey on our lady of the harbour"
ah a beatific vision..
suzanne as whore with a halo
martyred beatnik wisewoman crazybitch
how are you feeling about her now?
a seeress
an angel of destiny
the sunlight is so warm without burning
its a lovely moment
there on the shoreline
the river is now a harbour
and suzanne is its patron saint
she is so much more than you could dream possible
its a photo opportunity
"and she shows you were to look among the garbage and the flowers
there are heroes in the sea weed, there are children in the morning"
suzanne
like all saints
can let you see the marvellous in the mundane
she needs to show you where to look
otherwise you may not have noticed
the beauty in every single thing
in the 2 extremes of garbage and flowers
in all things
in the seaweed the heroes
what does this mean?
nothing
except to look for the miraculous constantly
or is cohen referring back to our drowners n sinking jesus
surely heroes all now down amongst the seaweed
but still worthy of your remembrance
and of course
the children
the future
the innocent ones
the lambs
the ones you could still yet help
suzanne now reveals them
the hope for this dizzy world
suzanne is a voice for the phantom children yet to be born
or are they suzannes own children
running in to mother in the morning
only to find you and or lenny cohen in there too?
"they are leaning out for love
they will lean that way forever
while suzanne holds the mirror"
leaning out of where...the mirror?
leaning out of that symbolically future morning
into the present day?
anyway
they like all children need love
they always do and always will
even these children in the future
however suzanne seems to have suspended them there in time
as long as she needs to
forever if necessary
suzanne does things in forevers after all
and only when the love is truly available
from you or any other lover
only if you will love the children you may conceive
will she allow them to materialise
there you go
probably not one of these thoughts occurred to lc
when he wrote it
its just my interpretation
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
good morning steve, well you wont believe me today*
*lyrics from the universal by small faces
well i went round jlks house last nite
and we did my vox on the secret canadian project
sample lyric
yesterday is a hole for me
in the afternoon that you sold to me
winter in the mirror feeling cold to me
and i wanna dig deeper
but i just gotta keep ya away
i reckon these guys should like it
if they dont then i'm no use to 'em at all
and they should ask bone-oh or michael stripe
or ian mcbolloch or some other blah blah blah
but
i reckon they will like it
i knocked off my lyrics n singing in 2 hours
came home started watching science of sleep
which i was enjoying
but nk says too tired
cant we watch the rest tonite
ok i says
today i listened to small faces on way to pool on pod
tin soldier
jesus, do you know that song?
my 1st girlfriend i was telling you about before on here
she or her sisters had a single of it
i hadnt heard it all that much on the radio
and when i put it on her fathers big old record player
it was the unbelievable visceral sound of love
coming off a scratched lump of vinyl
with a needle deep in its groove
starting with an electric piano
an ascending chord progression
its the anticipation of romance itself
the band suddenly jumps in real loud
and the songs starts to come on like a drug
the bass fat and round
the incessant ticking of the hi hat
the fancy guitar fingering
its horny music
insistent
rising up n up
cmon yells steve marriot slightly off mic
and the drums pile in
"i am a little tin soldier
who wants to jump into your fire "
and you know
that worked for me on so many levels
of course hes talking about
a more obscure tale
by hans christian anderson (hi tt in danmark!)
a one legged tin soldier, a toy
falls in love with a ballerina in a box
after much misadventure
arranged by some unexplained malevolent force
(who'd wanna be cruel to a toy? a one legged toy??)
including being swallowed by a fish
the tin soldier ends up burning in the fire
with his ballerina who doth verily love him back
a ha
but the next day as they clean up the ashes
the maids find 2 tiny tin hearts in the grate
is that a happy ending?
how would that test-screen out in burbank i wonder
anyway
marriot milks all the implications in the line with his voice....
oh i wanted to jump into loves fire
and i saw myself as slightly damaged a la the soldier
(why?)
and thus deserving of sweet sweet love
i dont need your aggravation marriot croons
in the breakdown...
i just gotta make ya
gotta listen (he spits out slightly off mic)
i just gotta make ya
my occupation!
well i could certainly dig that
marriot sang in a choked soul voice
implying urgency
it was urgent n important
his love was busting out all over him
he tickles the strings on a suspended fourth
and i was getting the idea
i do anything you want me to
sing any song that you want me to
(but what song could his girl want but this?)
i aint no child...take me as i am
(he insists)
finally finishing with a crescendo
marriot somewhere in there
the emerging urgency multiplied tenfold
i just want some reaction
why dontcha gimme satisfaction
cos all i wanna do is * to you
cos i lo-ove you!
*inaudible
man
i was hooked on this song for life
isnt amazing i said to the girlfriend, shocked
she smiled n shrugged her shoulders
obviously it was not doing it for her like it was for me
or maybe itd been played to death in that house
i knew how marriot felt tho
cos i never seemed to get that much reaction either
i dont know what it was exactly was wrong with her
but looking back on it
she was just a very ordinary girl in an ordinary place
in an ordinary time
why couldnt she see how groovy it all coulda been...?
she had no clue and i was disappointed
a couple of years later
i purchased the sublime
the autumn stone
a double album incl. their greatest hits
afterglow
i loved all the way their songs were slightly ambiguously
about sex
theres everything i need to know
just resting in the afterglow of your love
and the hammond organ is so grinding n creamy
and as usual the drums are so wound up
that he goes on pounding when the band has stopped
a trademark kenny jones move
itchycoo park
you wanna know what lsd sounded like in 1967?
listen to this flanged masterpiece
you can miss out school
why go to learn the words of fools?
marriot sings
n i could only concur
a ripping version of red balloon by tim hardin
bought myself a red ballooon with a blue surprise
took the love light out my eyes
ooh blue surprise
yes baby
the blue surprise was heroin
lazy sunday
which even my dad liked
if you wanna know how my dad sounded
when he was angry
listen to the cockney geezer
on this song
screaming out
"shut your bloody row!"
exactly the words my father would use
and yet
halfway thru this jolly song
when he sings close my eyes n drift away
the chords go minor
and we feel for a few bars
the real melancholy of sunday
the fear of it being over
the implied loss of freedom
tomorrow will bring
and lemme tell ya fiendss
sunday monday all the same to me who dont work
but sunday still brings me down sometimes
hey joycie wheres my toasted baked bean sandwiches?
anyway
its all captured there on this song
and of course the universal
sounding like it was recorded in marriots back garden
some psychedelic summer morning in the sixties
when acid rock mixed it up with english music hall
guitars n clarinets n euphoniums all together now
a hippy trippy name dropper
came to my door
he said i just bumped into mick
he told me you know where to score
no not me friend
the small faces
boy did they even look like a group
marriot would form humble pie with "franger" frampton
(thats what they called him in canberra
a franger is a condom)
and sadly die in a fire in a hotel
caused by falling asleep with a cig burning
ronnie lane
bassist extroadinaire n co author of the songs
kenny jones
and ian maclagan
the best keys player in rock almost bar none
would form the faces with rod n ronnie
confusingly enough
their 1st album
which may or may not be
called
the first step
was credited to the small faces
it wasnt until the second album
long player
that they were just the faces
i listened to a bit of long player today
particularly marvelling at a track
sweet lady mary
which is almost maggie may about 2 years early
its all there
the melodic lyrical bass playing
(i LOVE ronnie lanes bass playing)
the wandering organ
woodies scrappy n rough guitar
its a prototype hit
the first step had some corkers too
dylans wicked messenger
a song called devotion which is tres romantique
these guys certainly could conjure up some magic
ronnie lane died of ms in texas a while back
a tragic sad loss
what a wonderful geezer he was
my mate wil-o has met ian mclagan
out here playing with billy bragg
(who i dont like at all)
and he said mac was a diamond little geezer as well
kenny j played wiv the who for a while
what a raw powerhouse dynamo for any band
a true fuckin' thumper with bags of finesse
rod went on to whatsername from sweden
and whatsername from new zealand
and woody joined los stonos roulade
(make up yer own spanish!)
if yer really interested
i cannot recommend highly enuff
ian mclagans book" all the rage"
one of the best rock reads ever
and it broke my heart to see
the wonderful small faces never got paid a brass razoo
ripped of by grinning hyaena andrew loog old-ham
who got the fucking lot
publishing
records
everyfing
and thats why i hate mosta the pricks in the biz
(but not all)
anyway
nk was no more enamoured by the small faces
than that ordinary girl 37 years ago
when i played her
here comes the nice n tin soldier
oh god i hate that guys voice she casually says
almost derailing this blogge
hmmm
i wonder if the small faces/faces is a kinda guy only thing
like dylan......
anyway
i dig it
even if its gone full circle
in my own life
well i went round jlks house last nite
and we did my vox on the secret canadian project
sample lyric
yesterday is a hole for me
in the afternoon that you sold to me
winter in the mirror feeling cold to me
and i wanna dig deeper
but i just gotta keep ya away
i reckon these guys should like it
if they dont then i'm no use to 'em at all
and they should ask bone-oh or michael stripe
or ian mcbolloch or some other blah blah blah
but
i reckon they will like it
i knocked off my lyrics n singing in 2 hours
came home started watching science of sleep
which i was enjoying
but nk says too tired
cant we watch the rest tonite
ok i says
today i listened to small faces on way to pool on pod
tin soldier
jesus, do you know that song?
my 1st girlfriend i was telling you about before on here
she or her sisters had a single of it
i hadnt heard it all that much on the radio
and when i put it on her fathers big old record player
it was the unbelievable visceral sound of love
coming off a scratched lump of vinyl
with a needle deep in its groove
starting with an electric piano
an ascending chord progression
its the anticipation of romance itself
the band suddenly jumps in real loud
and the songs starts to come on like a drug
the bass fat and round
the incessant ticking of the hi hat
the fancy guitar fingering
its horny music
insistent
rising up n up
cmon yells steve marriot slightly off mic
and the drums pile in
"i am a little tin soldier
who wants to jump into your fire "
and you know
that worked for me on so many levels
of course hes talking about
a more obscure tale
by hans christian anderson (hi tt in danmark!)
a one legged tin soldier, a toy
falls in love with a ballerina in a box
after much misadventure
arranged by some unexplained malevolent force
(who'd wanna be cruel to a toy? a one legged toy??)
including being swallowed by a fish
the tin soldier ends up burning in the fire
with his ballerina who doth verily love him back
a ha
but the next day as they clean up the ashes
the maids find 2 tiny tin hearts in the grate
is that a happy ending?
how would that test-screen out in burbank i wonder
anyway
marriot milks all the implications in the line with his voice....
oh i wanted to jump into loves fire
and i saw myself as slightly damaged a la the soldier
(why?)
and thus deserving of sweet sweet love
i dont need your aggravation marriot croons
in the breakdown...
i just gotta make ya
gotta listen (he spits out slightly off mic)
i just gotta make ya
my occupation!
well i could certainly dig that
marriot sang in a choked soul voice
implying urgency
it was urgent n important
his love was busting out all over him
he tickles the strings on a suspended fourth
and i was getting the idea
i do anything you want me to
sing any song that you want me to
(but what song could his girl want but this?)
i aint no child...take me as i am
(he insists)
finally finishing with a crescendo
marriot somewhere in there
the emerging urgency multiplied tenfold
i just want some reaction
why dontcha gimme satisfaction
cos all i wanna do is * to you
cos i lo-ove you!
*inaudible
man
i was hooked on this song for life
isnt amazing i said to the girlfriend, shocked
she smiled n shrugged her shoulders
obviously it was not doing it for her like it was for me
or maybe itd been played to death in that house
i knew how marriot felt tho
cos i never seemed to get that much reaction either
i dont know what it was exactly was wrong with her
but looking back on it
she was just a very ordinary girl in an ordinary place
in an ordinary time
why couldnt she see how groovy it all coulda been...?
she had no clue and i was disappointed
a couple of years later
i purchased the sublime
the autumn stone
a double album incl. their greatest hits
afterglow
i loved all the way their songs were slightly ambiguously
about sex
theres everything i need to know
just resting in the afterglow of your love
and the hammond organ is so grinding n creamy
and as usual the drums are so wound up
that he goes on pounding when the band has stopped
a trademark kenny jones move
itchycoo park
you wanna know what lsd sounded like in 1967?
listen to this flanged masterpiece
you can miss out school
why go to learn the words of fools?
marriot sings
n i could only concur
a ripping version of red balloon by tim hardin
bought myself a red ballooon with a blue surprise
took the love light out my eyes
ooh blue surprise
yes baby
the blue surprise was heroin
lazy sunday
which even my dad liked
if you wanna know how my dad sounded
when he was angry
listen to the cockney geezer
on this song
screaming out
"shut your bloody row!"
exactly the words my father would use
and yet
halfway thru this jolly song
when he sings close my eyes n drift away
the chords go minor
and we feel for a few bars
the real melancholy of sunday
the fear of it being over
the implied loss of freedom
tomorrow will bring
and lemme tell ya fiendss
sunday monday all the same to me who dont work
but sunday still brings me down sometimes
hey joycie wheres my toasted baked bean sandwiches?
anyway
its all captured there on this song
and of course the universal
sounding like it was recorded in marriots back garden
some psychedelic summer morning in the sixties
when acid rock mixed it up with english music hall
guitars n clarinets n euphoniums all together now
a hippy trippy name dropper
came to my door
he said i just bumped into mick
he told me you know where to score
no not me friend
the small faces
boy did they even look like a group
marriot would form humble pie with "franger" frampton
(thats what they called him in canberra
a franger is a condom)
and sadly die in a fire in a hotel
caused by falling asleep with a cig burning
ronnie lane
bassist extroadinaire n co author of the songs
kenny jones
and ian maclagan
the best keys player in rock almost bar none
would form the faces with rod n ronnie
confusingly enough
their 1st album
which may or may not be
called
the first step
was credited to the small faces
it wasnt until the second album
long player
that they were just the faces
i listened to a bit of long player today
particularly marvelling at a track
sweet lady mary
which is almost maggie may about 2 years early
its all there
the melodic lyrical bass playing
(i LOVE ronnie lanes bass playing)
the wandering organ
woodies scrappy n rough guitar
its a prototype hit
the first step had some corkers too
dylans wicked messenger
a song called devotion which is tres romantique
these guys certainly could conjure up some magic
ronnie lane died of ms in texas a while back
a tragic sad loss
what a wonderful geezer he was
my mate wil-o has met ian mclagan
out here playing with billy bragg
(who i dont like at all)
and he said mac was a diamond little geezer as well
kenny j played wiv the who for a while
what a raw powerhouse dynamo for any band
a true fuckin' thumper with bags of finesse
rod went on to whatsername from sweden
and whatsername from new zealand
and woody joined los stonos roulade
(make up yer own spanish!)
if yer really interested
i cannot recommend highly enuff
ian mclagans book" all the rage"
one of the best rock reads ever
and it broke my heart to see
the wonderful small faces never got paid a brass razoo
ripped of by grinning hyaena andrew loog old-ham
who got the fucking lot
publishing
records
everyfing
and thats why i hate mosta the pricks in the biz
(but not all)
anyway
nk was no more enamoured by the small faces
than that ordinary girl 37 years ago
when i played her
here comes the nice n tin soldier
oh god i hate that guys voice she casually says
almost derailing this blogge
hmmm
i wonder if the small faces/faces is a kinda guy only thing
like dylan......
anyway
i dig it
even if its gone full circle
in my own life
Monday, September 24, 2007
enter / return
sam sejavka has a blog
sailsofoblivion.blogger.com
it promises to be weird n wonderful
but youd expect that from him, wouldnt you?
this fried-day i hit melnibone
playing with david birdie
who ive never met or spoken to
wonder what we'll do?
a genius should be prepared to think on his feet
so im ready for all contingencies
please feel free to drop in and watch me happen
db will probably blow me off the stage
(dont take that the wrong way, mr humphries)
(mr humphries!)
im flying down early so we can figure things out
simone polinski is doing our mix
im talking to e graham lee from triffids re january shows in syd
the logistics of getting a band back together w/ guest singers
whos doing which song and why...
you also know about kev carmody in early jan at state
your humble hero doing his kc song images of london
be nice to see kev after all these years
never met him when i was "clean"
struggling with commish but will nail it
feel confident i can take on anything n
do it some rough justice
plus i got excelsior on 27 oct
hope i can be as good there as i ended up being in auckland
but i may serve up a christchurch
who knows
not me
i ring my olde mate in can-berra
paul c
to tell him of twillies n minna in particulars fascination
for david bowie circa hunky dory
can she ever get sick of the bewlay brothers?
i listened to that song a bit in rehab
when i was in the one cobain escaped from
the aching painful hours went by like years
i'd lay on my bed listening to bewlay brothers
and reading the gita
i was right there in the moment
with no casing
with no protection
every note n word meant something to my screaming brain
ohhhh and we were gone!
how i longed to be gone
i hadnt quite managed to kill myself
i read that some chick rockstar o.d.ed in the bath
that seemed ok to my ravaged sensibility
i envied her
i envied her her oblivion
i envied her not having chronic insomnia
i wanted to rest in peace like that
in the bath.....just slipping away
i watched the oj fiasco live on tv
if he didnt kill that woman
i aint the mangey panther!
i saw people in the rehab pair up
even tho it was against the rules
i saw em smuggle in drugs but i abstained
i listened to their stories
and they listened to mine
hi im steve n im an addict
i loved telling my story
whatta story
i used to add lots of bits
cmon
im an artiste, i embellish the truth
i tell lies to tell the truth
i told em whoppers too
yeah i been on the gear my whole life
yeah im a big rockstar n im real tough
yeah i cant be happy without it
meanwhile
i was in a room with a guy from porno for pyros
martyne, a blonde guy
i played my 12 string in the dusty courtyard
this place was no 5 star motel
"mommy why you staying at this motel again ?"
asked a little black girl who hadnt understood
mommy was a cocaine fiend
towards the end of my stay there
we got buses n went to gyms where i swam
we went to aa n na meetings
where we saw the occaisional famous druggie
joe walsh from the eagles visited me in my room
(this is true)
he used to visit any musicians staying at exodus
(and there were plenty)
i asked him how he liked the other guys in the eagles
who had recently reformed
he spun round n looked at me
"well, i hate the bastards but i aint drinkin'"
dallas from csn and y, the drummer
he was there all the time talking to the junk sick musos
i got his autobiography off him
boy thats a sobering read in rehab
he gave me crosbys book long time gone
jesus ,crosby ended up in a metal cell wanted by the fbi
thank you lord that i didnt go as far down the path as he did
a nurse there told me she knew kurt wasnt gonna make it
"he had that look, ya know
like the baby antelope that gets singled out by the lions
you knew he was lost"
i tried to bust out one day
but my junky contacts in l.a. had all been warned
not to take my calls
besides i had no money
eventually i was driven to airport
where i boarded a plane to sweden
where i spent 6 weeks living in the country
singing my sweet lord n hare krishna to the swedish cows
(they loved it but the farmers told me to piss off!)
i swam in the lake n ate good food
gradually my ability to sleep returned minute by minute
i took the twillies then aged 3 for walks thru the hushed forests
i did the dishes outdoors n washed in the lake
i lay on black basalt rocks alone
in the gentle warm scandic summer sun
and i convalesced
i watched the white swans building their nest in the reeds
i rowed a leaky boat with twillies over to a small church
where karins grandparents were buried
and we put flowers on their graves
minna was confused that they were in the ground
and yet
simultaneously in heaven
i swung in a hammock n was eaten alive by mosquitoes
i saw a sick fox wander into a clearing
i wrote poetry
at night i would take the long path to the lake
looking for sleep in its chilly waters
i cried alone in these lovely but alien nights
i talked to vishnu
i stubbed my toe in the dark
and walked into things
i thought about heroin all the time though
and eventually when i returned to aust
i succumbed again
i was not fixed
i was not finished with it
i still thought i could get back in the ring
with that monster
and have another swing
that monster no one can beat
that bitch whos fucked everyone (up)
that nassty substance hiding in my cortex
whispering its seductive propaganda
"take me back, baby
itll be just like the olde days
you know
when we first started
and i wont hurt you again
i promise
oh baby
you know i'm the only one
can make you feel the way you want
please baby, let me back in"
and as soon as you do
the honeytongued beauty turns into a hideous fury
and she got ya by the balls
and she says
"get down on yer knees boy
im back to stay
and its gonna be real hard to ever git rid of me again"
anyway
gee
i been in a famous rehab
but it was real nasty there
i saw a lotta sad things
when peoples families n wives n hubbies
came n visited on the weekend
i saw a guy discover that his fiancee
was with some other coke fiend in a room up the hall
it all happened before my eyes
this most private thing
at a family meeting there one weekend
i saw fathers who refused to acknowledge their kids
n mothers who blamed emselves
"oh little frankie never woulda smoked crack
if i wasnt such a bad mother!!"
"yes, my mother made me a crack addict!"
"oh, if i give her enough wool
will she make me one, too?"
(bitta levity folks
cos i know you find this drug stuff
heavy going
unless you been thru it yerself
but
sorry
i guess it was reading sss blogge
or just cos its part of what made me who i am)
i met lots of characters in these places
junky vetenarians of 60
hookers n whores
pill popping doctors n nurses
coked out lawyers n businessmen
gangsters
(yep
i was in a room with a black guy
who was asking me about sydney
with a view to taking over
this "candy-ass" town)
other stupid musos
like me
maids n models
groupies n group-captains
italians n americans n africans n jews
old
young
idiot
genius
all hooked on this n that
all trying to get off the hook
there was a poster of john wayne
dressed up as a soldier
and hes saying
if you think lifes tough...try being a speedfreak!
i hated the chemical smell of the place
i hated my injections against the chronic nausea
i was throwin up buckets of green bile
which seared my throat on the way up n out
anyway
thats enough of that
it does me good to remember it occaisionally
if you didnt like it
i'll be back with the candy-ass stuff
tomorrow
sailsofoblivion.blogger.com
it promises to be weird n wonderful
but youd expect that from him, wouldnt you?
this fried-day i hit melnibone
playing with david birdie
who ive never met or spoken to
wonder what we'll do?
a genius should be prepared to think on his feet
so im ready for all contingencies
please feel free to drop in and watch me happen
db will probably blow me off the stage
(dont take that the wrong way, mr humphries)
(mr humphries!)
im flying down early so we can figure things out
simone polinski is doing our mix
im talking to e graham lee from triffids re january shows in syd
the logistics of getting a band back together w/ guest singers
whos doing which song and why...
you also know about kev carmody in early jan at state
your humble hero doing his kc song images of london
be nice to see kev after all these years
never met him when i was "clean"
struggling with commish but will nail it
feel confident i can take on anything n
do it some rough justice
plus i got excelsior on 27 oct
hope i can be as good there as i ended up being in auckland
but i may serve up a christchurch
who knows
not me
i ring my olde mate in can-berra
paul c
to tell him of twillies n minna in particulars fascination
for david bowie circa hunky dory
can she ever get sick of the bewlay brothers?
i listened to that song a bit in rehab
when i was in the one cobain escaped from
the aching painful hours went by like years
i'd lay on my bed listening to bewlay brothers
and reading the gita
i was right there in the moment
with no casing
with no protection
every note n word meant something to my screaming brain
ohhhh and we were gone!
how i longed to be gone
i hadnt quite managed to kill myself
i read that some chick rockstar o.d.ed in the bath
that seemed ok to my ravaged sensibility
i envied her
i envied her her oblivion
i envied her not having chronic insomnia
i wanted to rest in peace like that
in the bath.....just slipping away
i watched the oj fiasco live on tv
if he didnt kill that woman
i aint the mangey panther!
i saw people in the rehab pair up
even tho it was against the rules
i saw em smuggle in drugs but i abstained
i listened to their stories
and they listened to mine
hi im steve n im an addict
i loved telling my story
whatta story
i used to add lots of bits
cmon
im an artiste, i embellish the truth
i tell lies to tell the truth
i told em whoppers too
yeah i been on the gear my whole life
yeah im a big rockstar n im real tough
yeah i cant be happy without it
meanwhile
i was in a room with a guy from porno for pyros
martyne, a blonde guy
i played my 12 string in the dusty courtyard
this place was no 5 star motel
"mommy why you staying at this motel again ?"
asked a little black girl who hadnt understood
mommy was a cocaine fiend
towards the end of my stay there
we got buses n went to gyms where i swam
we went to aa n na meetings
where we saw the occaisional famous druggie
joe walsh from the eagles visited me in my room
(this is true)
he used to visit any musicians staying at exodus
(and there were plenty)
i asked him how he liked the other guys in the eagles
who had recently reformed
he spun round n looked at me
"well, i hate the bastards but i aint drinkin'"
dallas from csn and y, the drummer
he was there all the time talking to the junk sick musos
i got his autobiography off him
boy thats a sobering read in rehab
he gave me crosbys book long time gone
jesus ,crosby ended up in a metal cell wanted by the fbi
thank you lord that i didnt go as far down the path as he did
a nurse there told me she knew kurt wasnt gonna make it
"he had that look, ya know
like the baby antelope that gets singled out by the lions
you knew he was lost"
i tried to bust out one day
but my junky contacts in l.a. had all been warned
not to take my calls
besides i had no money
eventually i was driven to airport
where i boarded a plane to sweden
where i spent 6 weeks living in the country
singing my sweet lord n hare krishna to the swedish cows
(they loved it but the farmers told me to piss off!)
i swam in the lake n ate good food
gradually my ability to sleep returned minute by minute
i took the twillies then aged 3 for walks thru the hushed forests
i did the dishes outdoors n washed in the lake
i lay on black basalt rocks alone
in the gentle warm scandic summer sun
and i convalesced
i watched the white swans building their nest in the reeds
i rowed a leaky boat with twillies over to a small church
where karins grandparents were buried
and we put flowers on their graves
minna was confused that they were in the ground
and yet
simultaneously in heaven
i swung in a hammock n was eaten alive by mosquitoes
i saw a sick fox wander into a clearing
i wrote poetry
at night i would take the long path to the lake
looking for sleep in its chilly waters
i cried alone in these lovely but alien nights
i talked to vishnu
i stubbed my toe in the dark
and walked into things
i thought about heroin all the time though
and eventually when i returned to aust
i succumbed again
i was not fixed
i was not finished with it
i still thought i could get back in the ring
with that monster
and have another swing
that monster no one can beat
that bitch whos fucked everyone (up)
that nassty substance hiding in my cortex
whispering its seductive propaganda
"take me back, baby
itll be just like the olde days
you know
when we first started
and i wont hurt you again
i promise
oh baby
you know i'm the only one
can make you feel the way you want
please baby, let me back in"
and as soon as you do
the honeytongued beauty turns into a hideous fury
and she got ya by the balls
and she says
"get down on yer knees boy
im back to stay
and its gonna be real hard to ever git rid of me again"
anyway
gee
i been in a famous rehab
but it was real nasty there
i saw a lotta sad things
when peoples families n wives n hubbies
came n visited on the weekend
i saw a guy discover that his fiancee
was with some other coke fiend in a room up the hall
it all happened before my eyes
this most private thing
at a family meeting there one weekend
i saw fathers who refused to acknowledge their kids
n mothers who blamed emselves
"oh little frankie never woulda smoked crack
if i wasnt such a bad mother!!"
"yes, my mother made me a crack addict!"
"oh, if i give her enough wool
will she make me one, too?"
(bitta levity folks
cos i know you find this drug stuff
heavy going
unless you been thru it yerself
but
sorry
i guess it was reading sss blogge
or just cos its part of what made me who i am)
i met lots of characters in these places
junky vetenarians of 60
hookers n whores
pill popping doctors n nurses
coked out lawyers n businessmen
gangsters
(yep
i was in a room with a black guy
who was asking me about sydney
with a view to taking over
this "candy-ass" town)
other stupid musos
like me
maids n models
groupies n group-captains
italians n americans n africans n jews
old
young
idiot
genius
all hooked on this n that
all trying to get off the hook
there was a poster of john wayne
dressed up as a soldier
and hes saying
if you think lifes tough...try being a speedfreak!
i hated the chemical smell of the place
i hated my injections against the chronic nausea
i was throwin up buckets of green bile
which seared my throat on the way up n out
anyway
thats enough of that
it does me good to remember it occaisionally
if you didnt like it
i'll be back with the candy-ass stuff
tomorrow
Sunday, September 23, 2007
fairybomb
picked up a pack of fairy bombs
only 18 dollars
green fairy bombs
fairy cross the mercy
fairy meadow where i was formerly from
my shuffle chucks up some krautrock
how trippy
i search my mind for memory
i delete yesterdays events
clear history
i float above the histrionic tripe hurled at me
after all that
do i have to suffer this nonsense ?
please one comment per person
please keep it relevant
cos i do wanna read what you think of it
please consider what i write today
if youd like to be considerate
please desist with the bullshit
its depressing me
it tires me out
it enervates me
why ?
i try...
oh i am
i am
i am the saint who is no saint
yes thats who i am
but i get tired of bad energy assaulting me
i do my thing quietly
i love children n animals
i dont eat the beasts
and i make music
no skeletons in my closet for quite a while now
how tedious when someone tries to drag out an old one
or tries to dream up some silly fluster
besmirching my fucking not so good name
here on my very own pages
for some hysterical melodramatic bunkum
please im olde and im tired now desist
im trying to write some poetry here for you
im trying to weld unweildy forms together
im trying to find some beauty in this afternoon
dont hassle a poet!
see i had something better than this
for the people who were interested
what a shame!
only 18 dollars
green fairy bombs
fairy cross the mercy
fairy meadow where i was formerly from
my shuffle chucks up some krautrock
how trippy
i search my mind for memory
i delete yesterdays events
clear history
i float above the histrionic tripe hurled at me
after all that
do i have to suffer this nonsense ?
please one comment per person
please keep it relevant
cos i do wanna read what you think of it
please consider what i write today
if youd like to be considerate
please desist with the bullshit
its depressing me
it tires me out
it enervates me
why ?
i try...
oh i am
i am
i am the saint who is no saint
yes thats who i am
but i get tired of bad energy assaulting me
i do my thing quietly
i love children n animals
i dont eat the beasts
and i make music
no skeletons in my closet for quite a while now
how tedious when someone tries to drag out an old one
or tries to dream up some silly fluster
besmirching my fucking not so good name
here on my very own pages
for some hysterical melodramatic bunkum
please im olde and im tired now desist
im trying to write some poetry here for you
im trying to weld unweildy forms together
im trying to find some beauty in this afternoon
dont hassle a poet!
see i had something better than this
for the people who were interested
what a shame!
Saturday, September 22, 2007
until chocolate is melted and mixture is smooth
imagine the pleasurefield
with all its gratifications
see the dipping edge of wish
carved from pearl and silver
whipping it distantly
burrowing in the earth
or billowing through the ether
or breaking into sound on a silent world
yes you
imagine the pleasurefield
as it tumbles inside there
and the raving mad god who bestrides its interior
a shower of stardusted rusted up midnight spare parts
in your rooms by the harbour
where you entertained the ambassador
along the seablack wharf with its sickly lapping
the mangey gulls alight on rotting poles
and waiters running back n forth in their vanity
and the people attack their food with lust
and i envy them their appetite
but too slothful to eat
the ambassador relishes his gluttony as he devours you
it makes me so angry to watch
his pride stains the floorboards open
7 times 7 his deadlies
man you fractured ivory coast
imagine the pleasurefield
with its cardinal scams
and its out of work actresses
unlaughing after having scene
the size of your determination
think of all the free drugs
that theyll give you as soon as you get clean
think of all the sex once youre celibate
think of how as soon as it all stops
how something else immediately starts again
as good as you can ever be
someone says oh thats too bad
someone else says oh its saturday night here
you know im at a party
and its warm and some people jump in the pool
i didnt realize that the stuff would make me feel like this
i see some man dancing with his wife
but in his eyes he looks like the devil
it occurs to us that the devil is among us
in denim and board shorts and driving a ute
wow thats so cool you say as we leave the place
wow i wonder who he knew there you say
wow he looked like a guy who knew his way around town
down by the rocks in the darkness
you fumble with my black velvet shirt
youve lost me in the darkness
and youre undoing the past
the rocks are slippery and green
and the ambassador lights his pipe
the air fills with the acrid smell of the stuff
diplomatic immunity he grins n exhales
the police are out there watching us all im sure
he gestures towards the ocean
out there doing their job
he points towards the lowered sky
or up there chasing villains
a childs sandcastle collapses
and the crabs jump out of their shells
the worms in their sandy holes with tiny legs
the suctions of their greediness
the swift silver mackerel who swallows the hook
as i tear it from its throat
it stares up at me
absolving me of all my murderous guilt
i realise we're on a boat
and i lurch to the rails
as the white wake rushes past
and i fall into the foam
and surface in a lagoon in shadow
wandering to a house
the reeds jostle each other crackling and moaning
the blooms are all there too
big blooms and little daisy
and the woods with their small offspring
and the stones who came especially
and the waters from rainy sydney
the fields from around here
salt and pepper of the eartha
ritual for no reason
enveloping haze of marine evening
serener pastures
the orchestra swells up
is this the end?
yep
with all its gratifications
see the dipping edge of wish
carved from pearl and silver
whipping it distantly
burrowing in the earth
or billowing through the ether
or breaking into sound on a silent world
yes you
imagine the pleasurefield
as it tumbles inside there
and the raving mad god who bestrides its interior
a shower of stardusted rusted up midnight spare parts
in your rooms by the harbour
where you entertained the ambassador
along the seablack wharf with its sickly lapping
the mangey gulls alight on rotting poles
and waiters running back n forth in their vanity
and the people attack their food with lust
and i envy them their appetite
but too slothful to eat
the ambassador relishes his gluttony as he devours you
it makes me so angry to watch
his pride stains the floorboards open
7 times 7 his deadlies
man you fractured ivory coast
imagine the pleasurefield
with its cardinal scams
and its out of work actresses
unlaughing after having scene
the size of your determination
think of all the free drugs
that theyll give you as soon as you get clean
think of all the sex once youre celibate
think of how as soon as it all stops
how something else immediately starts again
as good as you can ever be
someone says oh thats too bad
someone else says oh its saturday night here
you know im at a party
and its warm and some people jump in the pool
i didnt realize that the stuff would make me feel like this
i see some man dancing with his wife
but in his eyes he looks like the devil
it occurs to us that the devil is among us
in denim and board shorts and driving a ute
wow thats so cool you say as we leave the place
wow i wonder who he knew there you say
wow he looked like a guy who knew his way around town
down by the rocks in the darkness
you fumble with my black velvet shirt
youve lost me in the darkness
and youre undoing the past
the rocks are slippery and green
and the ambassador lights his pipe
the air fills with the acrid smell of the stuff
diplomatic immunity he grins n exhales
the police are out there watching us all im sure
he gestures towards the ocean
out there doing their job
he points towards the lowered sky
or up there chasing villains
a childs sandcastle collapses
and the crabs jump out of their shells
the worms in their sandy holes with tiny legs
the suctions of their greediness
the swift silver mackerel who swallows the hook
as i tear it from its throat
it stares up at me
absolving me of all my murderous guilt
i realise we're on a boat
and i lurch to the rails
as the white wake rushes past
and i fall into the foam
and surface in a lagoon in shadow
wandering to a house
the reeds jostle each other crackling and moaning
the blooms are all there too
big blooms and little daisy
and the woods with their small offspring
and the stones who came especially
and the waters from rainy sydney
the fields from around here
salt and pepper of the eartha
ritual for no reason
enveloping haze of marine evening
serener pastures
the orchestra swells up
is this the end?
yep
Friday, September 21, 2007
X*$
read my zip
you useless stars
my energy is uncontainable
and it burns and returns
my soul slowly learns
even if this is a joke
well im laughing
all the way to the riverbank
all the way this time
nothings gonna stand in my way out
who was the one who told ya how the trick was done
look at that
what a great line
who was the one....
who showed ya...
yeah i like showed better than told
who should ya...
who showed ya what?
who showed ya how the trick was done
which trick baby?
which trick doth he mean?
well the clue is in showed, little pig
indeed it is
cos the trick and the show are one and the same
the same and the one show
where you get tricked
but you wanna be tricked
or is it part of the trick
that you wanna be tricked
one more trick in one more show
the killer steps up on the stage
the last stage outta town
the killer who has murdered poetry
the killer who mangled the music
the same killer who maimed art
the killer straps on his bass guitar
for the 10,000th time
he plugs in to 10,000 shocking volts
here is part of the trick
here in the show embedded with tricks
and hes showing you how these tricks were done
oh i thought it was part of the show you say
that hes showing us how the tricks are done
thats just part of the show, right?
yes thats right
i would wrongly say
the killer is showing you
that hes not tricking you
but if you do want a show
a little trickery may be a consequence
and tricks of the trade
and tricks of the light
and overtricks
and undertricks
magic tricks
hocus pocus
diplodocus
yes i know a few magic words
yes i know sutras for obtaining favour
yes i can command a small army of elementals
yes i can even induce the entire universe to change
all this power has unbalanced me
and now i'm mad
and being mad makes me angry
so im mad and mad
and ive put all this energy into my bass
its got a loada songs inside it
and the people in the songs
came out of their songs
while im on the stage
those songpeople with spidery voices
caressing up my basses neck
and curdling in my fingertips
these song characters made of music
made of solid stainless steel music
bulletproof music weighing in at 10,000 ks
the bass was rebelling under my hand
the hand that had fed it
the only hand it had ever known
the wood warped n woofed
the strings attached themselves
the frets frowned down and i fell a semi tone short
floundering in a sea of dissonance
i was a drowning drone in d flat
i was washed up on the shore like a dead b
a killed b
someone laughed
(was it you?)
they killed b flat
now hes diminished
unaugmented
seventh sealed
riffed over n out
scaffolding n skeleton crew
the stretched note
a long drawn out cadence
a conductor of lightning
a flash of ether burnt
smell of cordite
smell of ammonia
smell of electricity in ozone
sound of a shot
sound of a kiss
sound of the sea
you useless stars
my energy is uncontainable
and it burns and returns
my soul slowly learns
even if this is a joke
well im laughing
all the way to the riverbank
all the way this time
nothings gonna stand in my way out
who was the one who told ya how the trick was done
look at that
what a great line
who was the one....
who showed ya...
yeah i like showed better than told
who should ya...
who showed ya what?
who showed ya how the trick was done
which trick baby?
which trick doth he mean?
well the clue is in showed, little pig
indeed it is
cos the trick and the show are one and the same
the same and the one show
where you get tricked
but you wanna be tricked
or is it part of the trick
that you wanna be tricked
one more trick in one more show
the killer steps up on the stage
the last stage outta town
the killer who has murdered poetry
the killer who mangled the music
the same killer who maimed art
the killer straps on his bass guitar
for the 10,000th time
he plugs in to 10,000 shocking volts
here is part of the trick
here in the show embedded with tricks
and hes showing you how these tricks were done
oh i thought it was part of the show you say
that hes showing us how the tricks are done
thats just part of the show, right?
yes thats right
i would wrongly say
the killer is showing you
that hes not tricking you
but if you do want a show
a little trickery may be a consequence
and tricks of the trade
and tricks of the light
and overtricks
and undertricks
magic tricks
hocus pocus
diplodocus
yes i know a few magic words
yes i know sutras for obtaining favour
yes i can command a small army of elementals
yes i can even induce the entire universe to change
all this power has unbalanced me
and now i'm mad
and being mad makes me angry
so im mad and mad
and ive put all this energy into my bass
its got a loada songs inside it
and the people in the songs
came out of their songs
while im on the stage
those songpeople with spidery voices
caressing up my basses neck
and curdling in my fingertips
these song characters made of music
made of solid stainless steel music
bulletproof music weighing in at 10,000 ks
the bass was rebelling under my hand
the hand that had fed it
the only hand it had ever known
the wood warped n woofed
the strings attached themselves
the frets frowned down and i fell a semi tone short
floundering in a sea of dissonance
i was a drowning drone in d flat
i was washed up on the shore like a dead b
a killed b
someone laughed
(was it you?)
they killed b flat
now hes diminished
unaugmented
seventh sealed
riffed over n out
scaffolding n skeleton crew
the stretched note
a long drawn out cadence
a conductor of lightning
a flash of ether burnt
smell of cordite
smell of ammonia
smell of electricity in ozone
sound of a shot
sound of a kiss
sound of the sea
Thursday, September 20, 2007
root of star
in harridans black hall
where father and kathy were waiting
while ugly snouts sniffed outside
quickly they shouted in the gathering wind
and the whole house felt like it was crying
hurry they called through the widening gap
and i at last jumped for all i was worth
as the night crashed through the hole
let me tell you they were laughing
on the otherside
kathy was holding fathers hand
and father said
sit down here son... we're still moving
the night moved within songs we sang then
kathy turned to me as she sang and she smiled
and oh her smile sang another song
and father held us tightly as we hurtled headlong
where is it we're going father i asked
but kathy said ssshh
and father concentrated as hard as he could
because everything was changing he said
everytime i come back he murmured
and kathy just kept singing and singing
are we still moving i shouted above the stillpoint
father had closed his eyes
he was having a lay down i think
dont touch him said kathy
or he'll wake up i said
she nodded solemnly and yawned herself
im terribly sleepy she said
no kathy i said
no you mustnt go to sleep as well
dont be silly she said as she closed her eyes
and left me there all alone
it seemed like i was on my own again now
i sat there feeling so sorry for myself
i sat there choking on my sobs
as father and kathy slept
i hate this if its a dream i shouted to the dark sky
but if it heard it did not answer
and if it answered then i did not hear it
green life was germinating around all the corners
the night was no longer black
i perceived it to be a deep violet
with crimson veins running through it like skin
i realized that it moved and stretched like a fabric
the stars which i had thought to be white
were revealed in pale yellows and vague reds
the morning cannot be faraway i heard myself think
and i wondered what kathy was dreaming of
i soon became aware of the earth
as it rotated in space somewhere
how its light travels to us from the lightless regions
how the moon can be seen in every pool
how the reflection dazzled me when i was there
and the inevitable glow of childhood
illuminating almost every corner of space
how the dust danced in the morning sun
i started to sing the song again
that lovely song kathy had been singing
and its words gave me a kind of strength
and its melody uplifted my flagging spirit
the otherwordly night in its own light
the churning feeling of the voyage
the celestial beings who sang along with me
in the marvellous distance
where father and kathy were waiting
while ugly snouts sniffed outside
quickly they shouted in the gathering wind
and the whole house felt like it was crying
hurry they called through the widening gap
and i at last jumped for all i was worth
as the night crashed through the hole
let me tell you they were laughing
on the otherside
kathy was holding fathers hand
and father said
sit down here son... we're still moving
the night moved within songs we sang then
kathy turned to me as she sang and she smiled
and oh her smile sang another song
and father held us tightly as we hurtled headlong
where is it we're going father i asked
but kathy said ssshh
and father concentrated as hard as he could
because everything was changing he said
everytime i come back he murmured
and kathy just kept singing and singing
are we still moving i shouted above the stillpoint
father had closed his eyes
he was having a lay down i think
dont touch him said kathy
or he'll wake up i said
she nodded solemnly and yawned herself
im terribly sleepy she said
no kathy i said
no you mustnt go to sleep as well
dont be silly she said as she closed her eyes
and left me there all alone
it seemed like i was on my own again now
i sat there feeling so sorry for myself
i sat there choking on my sobs
as father and kathy slept
i hate this if its a dream i shouted to the dark sky
but if it heard it did not answer
and if it answered then i did not hear it
green life was germinating around all the corners
the night was no longer black
i perceived it to be a deep violet
with crimson veins running through it like skin
i realized that it moved and stretched like a fabric
the stars which i had thought to be white
were revealed in pale yellows and vague reds
the morning cannot be faraway i heard myself think
and i wondered what kathy was dreaming of
i soon became aware of the earth
as it rotated in space somewhere
how its light travels to us from the lightless regions
how the moon can be seen in every pool
how the reflection dazzled me when i was there
and the inevitable glow of childhood
illuminating almost every corner of space
how the dust danced in the morning sun
i started to sing the song again
that lovely song kathy had been singing
and its words gave me a kind of strength
and its melody uplifted my flagging spirit
the otherwordly night in its own light
the churning feeling of the voyage
the celestial beings who sang along with me
in the marvellous distance
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
no experience needed
good whatever it is wherever you are, ladies n gentlemen
i'd a like to thank the people who subscribe
i'd a like to thank those who made it possible with kind donations
if you cant afford to, dont worry, i thank you too
thanks for the people who sent me stuff
stefandroolin'
the greek princess
people ive lost track of but im still grateful to...
muse: he ended on a preposition
i'd a like to thank the people who stuck by me
thru the long years
thank you
thank you
thank you
its blue and windy in sydney australia
polinski is mixing painkiller
mk should be working on k/k
the church will be back in dec
probably doing a double bill with another band
from the same era
it made sense to do it i guess
we will be starting a new record in nov/dec
maybe doing our own tour jan/feb
jlk n i are cooking up a new scheme
therell be more about that soon
and i think some of ya will be excited about it
i had a great art sale and sold loads of pieces n prints
thank you holly the eek who made it all happen
i am a little distanced from painting at the moment
after a frenetic burst a while back
im working on a commission
and ive stalled
and now
scarlet the woofle
has scribbled all over it in thick grey pastel
which is pretty much how i feel about it too
my art room is a mess again
suitcases guitars n cases stuff everywhere
bits o paper, books,cds
its a warzone
scarlet has wreaked some fuckin' havoc in there
evie won a prize for public speaking
and an award for" making thoughtful contributions
to class discussions"
go evie starr
aurora the bunny childe mooches along placidly
minna is jumpy tricky and highly strung
she n elli are doing real well at their new school
boyfriends are afoot
parties abound
let the good times roll, twillies
16 is a really special age
i was dreaming and in love the whole time
i discovered t rex and fell in love with bolan
i met my first girlfriend at the library
it was a warm warm late spring night
she had a sister
and it was hard telling them apart
we walked home thru the shops and then the pines
we sat on the steps of my high school
which was opposite her house
she talked about how often she washed her hair
but it could have been poetry for all i cared
everything was new to me
we didnt touch or kiss
but i was succumbing to a new drug
the canberran evening turned magical
all the songs were playing in my head
the evening invited me deeper and deeper
the girl got up and went home
i sat n watched her house for a while
and then i drifted home
floating on a dreamy cloud
just like they said it would be...
before xmas
her family had a party
there were loadsa people there
loud music and alcohol
wow
i had a girlfriend of my own
and i went to parties on hot nights
and stood outside smoking cigarettes
n arguing about music with her other sisters boyfriends
i hung around in the kitchen talking to her brothers
i went down to her bedroom n stole a kiss
boy
i could get used to this
no one from my school was there
(these people were all catholics)
i was free to reinvent myself
as some groovy hipster
as some suburban romeo
it ended at around 2 in the morning
when the parents came back....
oh to relive that party again n again
oh to be 16 n in love for the 1st time
i hope my kids can enjoy it
its indeed a magical time of yer life
n it comes but once
a few times ive driven down my olde school
when im in canberra
theres the house
theres the school
but that evening has long fled
long ago it disappeared n took all traces of itself away
would any of the other people there still remember it?
i doubt it
yet it shaped my life in so many ways
such is its intangible influence on me
a warm happy lovely place i can go in my mind
or when im swimming in the cold pool
or walking down a lonely hard road
i hope you all have some memories like that
i know the teen years can be so hard
but so bloody enchanted too
all my love
steve
i'd a like to thank the people who subscribe
i'd a like to thank those who made it possible with kind donations
if you cant afford to, dont worry, i thank you too
thanks for the people who sent me stuff
stefandroolin'
the greek princess
people ive lost track of but im still grateful to...
muse: he ended on a preposition
i'd a like to thank the people who stuck by me
thru the long years
thank you
thank you
thank you
its blue and windy in sydney australia
polinski is mixing painkiller
mk should be working on k/k
the church will be back in dec
probably doing a double bill with another band
from the same era
it made sense to do it i guess
we will be starting a new record in nov/dec
maybe doing our own tour jan/feb
jlk n i are cooking up a new scheme
therell be more about that soon
and i think some of ya will be excited about it
i had a great art sale and sold loads of pieces n prints
thank you holly the eek who made it all happen
i am a little distanced from painting at the moment
after a frenetic burst a while back
im working on a commission
and ive stalled
and now
scarlet the woofle
has scribbled all over it in thick grey pastel
which is pretty much how i feel about it too
my art room is a mess again
suitcases guitars n cases stuff everywhere
bits o paper, books,cds
its a warzone
scarlet has wreaked some fuckin' havoc in there
evie won a prize for public speaking
and an award for" making thoughtful contributions
to class discussions"
go evie starr
aurora the bunny childe mooches along placidly
minna is jumpy tricky and highly strung
she n elli are doing real well at their new school
boyfriends are afoot
parties abound
let the good times roll, twillies
16 is a really special age
i was dreaming and in love the whole time
i discovered t rex and fell in love with bolan
i met my first girlfriend at the library
it was a warm warm late spring night
she had a sister
and it was hard telling them apart
we walked home thru the shops and then the pines
we sat on the steps of my high school
which was opposite her house
she talked about how often she washed her hair
but it could have been poetry for all i cared
everything was new to me
we didnt touch or kiss
but i was succumbing to a new drug
the canberran evening turned magical
all the songs were playing in my head
the evening invited me deeper and deeper
the girl got up and went home
i sat n watched her house for a while
and then i drifted home
floating on a dreamy cloud
just like they said it would be...
before xmas
her family had a party
there were loadsa people there
loud music and alcohol
wow
i had a girlfriend of my own
and i went to parties on hot nights
and stood outside smoking cigarettes
n arguing about music with her other sisters boyfriends
i hung around in the kitchen talking to her brothers
i went down to her bedroom n stole a kiss
boy
i could get used to this
no one from my school was there
(these people were all catholics)
i was free to reinvent myself
as some groovy hipster
as some suburban romeo
it ended at around 2 in the morning
when the parents came back....
oh to relive that party again n again
oh to be 16 n in love for the 1st time
i hope my kids can enjoy it
its indeed a magical time of yer life
n it comes but once
a few times ive driven down my olde school
when im in canberra
theres the house
theres the school
but that evening has long fled
long ago it disappeared n took all traces of itself away
would any of the other people there still remember it?
i doubt it
yet it shaped my life in so many ways
such is its intangible influence on me
a warm happy lovely place i can go in my mind
or when im swimming in the cold pool
or walking down a lonely hard road
i hope you all have some memories like that
i know the teen years can be so hard
but so bloody enchanted too
all my love
steve
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
plexus
dead crabs lay on the bottom of the icebergs pool
the water is cold
uninviting
what am i doing swimming in here today
its grey and windy
the ocean is metallic with white crests appearing
bondi is dull and deserted
just the endless building and renovation
the same olde tiresome characters (like me)
the same olde dips n trips
everything gets on my nerves
my energy ebbs away
even this blog pisses me off
why am i writing it again?
i see some little idiot virus has infested the comments again
i can hardly be bothered squashing it
i see people are having conversations there
after i asked them not to
i see some people do appreciate that im trying to give em
the dark stuff
i write my blog live
and if i feel bad
it all goes in
this is an experiment
im telling you the truth
something has upset the applecart
what is this subtle alteration
that changes everything?
why does everything seem so meaningless suddenly?
yes it must have been the buzzz
wow
or something...
yes ive been going a bit hard lately
its all caught up with me
but im not pleading hard done-by
almost every bad thing
that ever happened to me
was done by
me
well i wanted to feel high
then i had to feel low
i wanted bliss
then i got despair
i wanted out
but i got stuck further in
i wanted to fly
so i had to fall
oh i knew all of this
so long ago
i write my blog
its there for everyone to read
doesnt everyone get sick of themselves sometimes?
im a lot to be sick of...
im incessant
i dont switch off
my songs n words
my bad reviews
my scornful neglect
my anger and my revenge
my guilt
my sense of hopelessness
my delusions of grandeur
my cancerous envy
my smart remarks
my grovelling insincerity
my brutal desire
my wheedling whining whinging ways
my stupid accent
my tedious addictions
my self righteous baloney
yeah
its all going round n round
on the bad days
on the days you dont see me round that much
on the days with dead crabs and squashed cockroaches
the days bills arrive
the days of refusals and overdue accounts
the days that are always slow and heavy
days when no ones home
days when no ones answering
days when theyve run out of the good stuff
and no one'll lend ya a hundred bucks
and people are trying to find ya
dropping hints
laying on hexes n curses
changing it all around
laughing at me for being a fool
hissing at me for being a villain
clawing at me cos i was somebodys hero
hiding in the shadows n periphery
taking potshots at me
taking down my posters
taking my identity
taking my living out of my hands
black september
tuesday afternoon
minna arrives
nervy n jumpy as she is
shes so lovely to look at
ah thats just narcissism talking
its how you looked at 16 isnt it
now thats long ago
long long ago
in 1970
that was 37 years ago time being
since you were sweet sixteen
with your prince valiant haircut
n yer little blue mazda
all those days n nights that passed
like ripples on a black lake
minna with it all before her
you with it all behind ya
the glory days
the gravy train
the legendary glow of olde times
you never think youll ever be fifty said dad n laughed
now im sitting here with my teenager
i want to get through but i dont know how
a bit like you n me, dad, i suppose
you knew by the time i was ready to talk
itd probably be too late
and now i fear the same thing
everything i say sounds silly to a 16 year olde
be careful
be home early
call me if you need me
yeah yeah dad sure sure
now i got all this advice
no one can listen to it
now i got all these ideas
no ones interested
just when i came good
it all started going bad
when i became honest
i had to let sleeping dogs lie
blah blah blah blah blah
me me me me me
eeny miney meany mo fo
what else?
what else could there be?
funny how you chase one thing
you catch another
but we all knew that
didnt we?
already
nothing new here
but
im just sitting in this feeling trying to figure it out
sinking in the quicksand
emptiness is so frightening
nothingness
nihilism
no reason to be good or bad
no reason to show up or bow out
no reason to write
no reason to comment
no reason to answer my own questions
and the end?
it draws closer
the end of this blog
the end of this day
the end of this life
the end of ends
crawling like a snail
suddenly rushing up on ya
like it did for grant
and johnny lennon
and tyrone power
and ann boleyn
and shakespeare fading away by my age
and nijinsky who burnt brightly n then rotted
and manfred von richtofen who fell out the sky
and all the other dead-uns
thats the ground rushing up to meet ya
thats the edge of the precipice
thats the abyss, buddy
do ya like the way it feels
gonna have to walk that black corridor
gonna have to walk thru that storm
and lose everything again
but i still believe
that
after that
will be
the light
the water is cold
uninviting
what am i doing swimming in here today
its grey and windy
the ocean is metallic with white crests appearing
bondi is dull and deserted
just the endless building and renovation
the same olde tiresome characters (like me)
the same olde dips n trips
everything gets on my nerves
my energy ebbs away
even this blog pisses me off
why am i writing it again?
i see some little idiot virus has infested the comments again
i can hardly be bothered squashing it
i see people are having conversations there
after i asked them not to
i see some people do appreciate that im trying to give em
the dark stuff
i write my blog live
and if i feel bad
it all goes in
this is an experiment
im telling you the truth
something has upset the applecart
what is this subtle alteration
that changes everything?
why does everything seem so meaningless suddenly?
yes it must have been the buzzz
wow
or something...
yes ive been going a bit hard lately
its all caught up with me
but im not pleading hard done-by
almost every bad thing
that ever happened to me
was done by
me
well i wanted to feel high
then i had to feel low
i wanted bliss
then i got despair
i wanted out
but i got stuck further in
i wanted to fly
so i had to fall
oh i knew all of this
so long ago
i write my blog
its there for everyone to read
doesnt everyone get sick of themselves sometimes?
im a lot to be sick of...
im incessant
i dont switch off
my songs n words
my bad reviews
my scornful neglect
my anger and my revenge
my guilt
my sense of hopelessness
my delusions of grandeur
my cancerous envy
my smart remarks
my grovelling insincerity
my brutal desire
my wheedling whining whinging ways
my stupid accent
my tedious addictions
my self righteous baloney
yeah
its all going round n round
on the bad days
on the days you dont see me round that much
on the days with dead crabs and squashed cockroaches
the days bills arrive
the days of refusals and overdue accounts
the days that are always slow and heavy
days when no ones home
days when no ones answering
days when theyve run out of the good stuff
and no one'll lend ya a hundred bucks
and people are trying to find ya
dropping hints
laying on hexes n curses
changing it all around
laughing at me for being a fool
hissing at me for being a villain
clawing at me cos i was somebodys hero
hiding in the shadows n periphery
taking potshots at me
taking down my posters
taking my identity
taking my living out of my hands
black september
tuesday afternoon
minna arrives
nervy n jumpy as she is
shes so lovely to look at
ah thats just narcissism talking
its how you looked at 16 isnt it
now thats long ago
long long ago
in 1970
that was 37 years ago time being
since you were sweet sixteen
with your prince valiant haircut
n yer little blue mazda
all those days n nights that passed
like ripples on a black lake
minna with it all before her
you with it all behind ya
the glory days
the gravy train
the legendary glow of olde times
you never think youll ever be fifty said dad n laughed
now im sitting here with my teenager
i want to get through but i dont know how
a bit like you n me, dad, i suppose
you knew by the time i was ready to talk
itd probably be too late
and now i fear the same thing
everything i say sounds silly to a 16 year olde
be careful
be home early
call me if you need me
yeah yeah dad sure sure
now i got all this advice
no one can listen to it
now i got all these ideas
no ones interested
just when i came good
it all started going bad
when i became honest
i had to let sleeping dogs lie
blah blah blah blah blah
me me me me me
eeny miney meany mo fo
what else?
what else could there be?
funny how you chase one thing
you catch another
but we all knew that
didnt we?
already
nothing new here
but
im just sitting in this feeling trying to figure it out
sinking in the quicksand
emptiness is so frightening
nothingness
nihilism
no reason to be good or bad
no reason to show up or bow out
no reason to write
no reason to comment
no reason to answer my own questions
and the end?
it draws closer
the end of this blog
the end of this day
the end of this life
the end of ends
crawling like a snail
suddenly rushing up on ya
like it did for grant
and johnny lennon
and tyrone power
and ann boleyn
and shakespeare fading away by my age
and nijinsky who burnt brightly n then rotted
and manfred von richtofen who fell out the sky
and all the other dead-uns
thats the ground rushing up to meet ya
thats the edge of the precipice
thats the abyss, buddy
do ya like the way it feels
gonna have to walk that black corridor
gonna have to walk thru that storm
and lose everything again
but i still believe
that
after that
will be
the light
Monday, September 17, 2007
spring brake
feeling lonesome and down
feeling like a cloud
trying to keep its shape
in a windtorn sky
feeling hemmed in n empty
feeling like hopelessness
colour fades from things
the light paints things bleached white
sea sick as i walk across the kitchen
the ordinary invades
with its symbols of threat
and with such a slight twist
things become sick and bitter
the various precariousnesses
who is underwriting my life
no one
where is sanctuary
nowhere
the monstrously loud clock
the repulsive dead flowers in their vase
the omnipresent bright blue sky
marks
chips
cracks
stains
lines
wrinkles
holes
ruin
rot
the spiders hang motionless
nothing works properly
the short cuts out long
the tea breaks broken
butter in the sun yellow ooze
faintly feeling movement
as if earth is trembling
as if everything is shifting
the flaws caving in
the collapse of the system
ugliness just about everything
ratchets whirr, hammers striking
inhumane machines tearing into our earth
its madness
i tell you
the sun will explode into darkness
the moon will crash down
people will drown in fire
the scalding oceans shall erupt
and its dark secrets will come up
on the dry land
driven on towards the cities
devouring hope and glory
the shriek of the wind
the laughter in the thunder
the hand that aims the bolt
god is unleashed
his name is chaos
expect the same mercy
as you yourself have shown
but thats....none
youve known its always been out there
an insane agony
a hideous energy
dogging our steps
monkeying in our plans
wolfing down our days
a vile thing
the last bad thing before you get to the good
a blasphemous filthy angel
a statue of a monster
a fountain inhabited by a snake
little eggs laid inside your scalp
eyeless worms burrow
yes the water burns
the water cannot quench our thirst
the water congeals into colours and wax
the water drips in gelatinous vertigo
the water inside us turns to dust
signals distort and interrupt
i keep dropping out
i keep breaking apart
i keep my hands on the wheel
and it spins n it spins
like all of reality
wants to vomit forth my madness
cast it out of itself
i belonged here
i understood how it all worked
i was up n running
running up that hill
pushing the future up the slope
and then
it ran away
wished away
picking up momentum
sliding headlong
premonition
illusion
feeling
ghost
dream
strange
ok
feeling like a cloud
trying to keep its shape
in a windtorn sky
feeling hemmed in n empty
feeling like hopelessness
colour fades from things
the light paints things bleached white
sea sick as i walk across the kitchen
the ordinary invades
with its symbols of threat
and with such a slight twist
things become sick and bitter
the various precariousnesses
who is underwriting my life
no one
where is sanctuary
nowhere
the monstrously loud clock
the repulsive dead flowers in their vase
the omnipresent bright blue sky
marks
chips
cracks
stains
lines
wrinkles
holes
ruin
rot
the spiders hang motionless
nothing works properly
the short cuts out long
the tea breaks broken
butter in the sun yellow ooze
faintly feeling movement
as if earth is trembling
as if everything is shifting
the flaws caving in
the collapse of the system
ugliness just about everything
ratchets whirr, hammers striking
inhumane machines tearing into our earth
its madness
i tell you
the sun will explode into darkness
the moon will crash down
people will drown in fire
the scalding oceans shall erupt
and its dark secrets will come up
on the dry land
driven on towards the cities
devouring hope and glory
the shriek of the wind
the laughter in the thunder
the hand that aims the bolt
god is unleashed
his name is chaos
expect the same mercy
as you yourself have shown
but thats....none
youve known its always been out there
an insane agony
a hideous energy
dogging our steps
monkeying in our plans
wolfing down our days
a vile thing
the last bad thing before you get to the good
a blasphemous filthy angel
a statue of a monster
a fountain inhabited by a snake
little eggs laid inside your scalp
eyeless worms burrow
yes the water burns
the water cannot quench our thirst
the water congeals into colours and wax
the water drips in gelatinous vertigo
the water inside us turns to dust
signals distort and interrupt
i keep dropping out
i keep breaking apart
i keep my hands on the wheel
and it spins n it spins
like all of reality
wants to vomit forth my madness
cast it out of itself
i belonged here
i understood how it all worked
i was up n running
running up that hill
pushing the future up the slope
and then
it ran away
wished away
picking up momentum
sliding headlong
premonition
illusion
feeling
ghost
dream
strange
ok
Sunday, September 16, 2007
subroutine
the futures fireproof
not at all like what i expected
i used to be a singer
a longtimeago
beforethewar
the war to end all wars
which war was it?
i was a singer then
in the mists of time
i sang some songs
then i moved into my new occupation
i review aphrodisiacs
for drugworld.org
i am the foremost aphrodisiac reviewer on earth
cmon you say
an aphrodisiac reviewer?
laugh if you want
it was around 2008
that they invented love-bites
a totally legal a-disiac
i used to write this column everyday
one day i dropped some love-bites
i was literally blown away
what were these new drugs?
who was making em?
the ingredients were fruit n flowers...
i posted an online review
its kinda famous now i guess
you see any idiot can cop a high
but not any idiot can describe it in creative language
i guess i was born to do it
anyway a few days after my first love-bites post
they contact me
would i review their products for them?
ok....
would i test drive aphrodisiacs and report in?
sure, i think i could handle that
the success of love-bites was amazing
my review got reprinted all round the world
suddenly the a-disiac market exploded
and i was its leading voice
next i did a piece on 4bidden froot
4bidden froot is a new fruit only aphrodisiac
fine tuned by new manufacturing procedures
a harmless but powerful aphrodisiac
its motto
makes lovin' lovely
4bidden froot
what a revelation
people switched their tvs off when that stuff came on the market
people were buying that new sexlife jive
people started getting in the groove again
all those oafs who wouldnt know their libido
from a hole in the ground
all those frumpy frigid femmes hitherto unwanted
4bidden froot turned em all on
oh the pleasures to be found in flesh
and there was i
at the leading edge of the pleasuremarket
being flown around the world
testing and reviewing a-disiacs
now being finely tuned homeopathically
a tiny dose of lavender oil
a micron of lime
a tiny tiny amount of ginger
oh
you could lose yourself in love
people were foundering in their unanswerable lust
to sink into desire deeper deeper deeper
love comes unbidden all the time
my friend and i drift round this house
she lazily reaches for me
i stand back and watch
i stand back n watch my heaving back
i float up to the ceiling
and i watch the birds in the sky
my veins all open and are flushed with blood
my pupils are huge
i take everything in
and i see love as an art to be mastered
and i see it has its schools of thought
and its history and techniques
so i write n i love
i love n i write
now the lid is off the whole a-disiac thing
what could the govt do?
outlaw roses?
ban orange peel?
make it illegal to possess love?
now love is within reach of everyman
and people are loving it
love
love
love
buy some
try some
4bidden froot, baybee
ha ha
not at all like what i expected
i used to be a singer
a longtimeago
beforethewar
the war to end all wars
which war was it?
i was a singer then
in the mists of time
i sang some songs
then i moved into my new occupation
i review aphrodisiacs
for drugworld.org
i am the foremost aphrodisiac reviewer on earth
cmon you say
an aphrodisiac reviewer?
laugh if you want
it was around 2008
that they invented love-bites
a totally legal a-disiac
i used to write this column everyday
one day i dropped some love-bites
i was literally blown away
what were these new drugs?
who was making em?
the ingredients were fruit n flowers...
i posted an online review
its kinda famous now i guess
you see any idiot can cop a high
but not any idiot can describe it in creative language
i guess i was born to do it
anyway a few days after my first love-bites post
they contact me
would i review their products for them?
ok....
would i test drive aphrodisiacs and report in?
sure, i think i could handle that
the success of love-bites was amazing
my review got reprinted all round the world
suddenly the a-disiac market exploded
and i was its leading voice
next i did a piece on 4bidden froot
4bidden froot is a new fruit only aphrodisiac
fine tuned by new manufacturing procedures
a harmless but powerful aphrodisiac
its motto
makes lovin' lovely
4bidden froot
what a revelation
people switched their tvs off when that stuff came on the market
people were buying that new sexlife jive
people started getting in the groove again
all those oafs who wouldnt know their libido
from a hole in the ground
all those frumpy frigid femmes hitherto unwanted
4bidden froot turned em all on
oh the pleasures to be found in flesh
and there was i
at the leading edge of the pleasuremarket
being flown around the world
testing and reviewing a-disiacs
now being finely tuned homeopathically
a tiny dose of lavender oil
a micron of lime
a tiny tiny amount of ginger
oh
you could lose yourself in love
people were foundering in their unanswerable lust
to sink into desire deeper deeper deeper
love comes unbidden all the time
my friend and i drift round this house
she lazily reaches for me
i stand back and watch
i stand back n watch my heaving back
i float up to the ceiling
and i watch the birds in the sky
my veins all open and are flushed with blood
my pupils are huge
i take everything in
and i see love as an art to be mastered
and i see it has its schools of thought
and its history and techniques
so i write n i love
i love n i write
now the lid is off the whole a-disiac thing
what could the govt do?
outlaw roses?
ban orange peel?
make it illegal to possess love?
now love is within reach of everyman
and people are loving it
love
love
love
buy some
try some
4bidden froot, baybee
ha ha
Saturday, September 15, 2007
tori 0, buzzz 1
i dunno what to write about tori
she comes on in black wig n horrible clothes
shes touching herself.....there
indeed when she 1st took the stage
she proffered her bum to the audience
who men n women both went crazy
all night long tori was busy gesticulating
hand jiving as she hammered the keys
illustrating the songs with gestures
all of them sexual
toris hand strokes a huge imaginary phallus
tori wanks around
tori touches her bosoms n opens her legs suddenly
she turns around and again offers her ass
she writhes n twitches as she plays the piano
singing a naughty line
n checking out the audience
with an expression thats a cross between
elton john n chrissie amphlett
she is with no doubt an incredible player
make no mistake this woman is brilliant on the keys
the best bits are where it all breaks down
to tori in the upper register
her riffs going round n round
like philip glasses musical phrase-loops
she can sing too
but i quickly got tired of all her "operatic" bits
where she really takes off into the falsetto
the band is good but the drums are mixed too loud
the bass player is mellifluous
the guitarist is quite inventive
tori disappears after a while
n returns in a hideous green shiny outfit
that looks like it was in the bargain bin at st vinnies
and a long straight ginger wig
both wigs go right down to the eyes
covering much of her face
she can certainly play the piano from some different angles
but coming across more as a precocious kid
at her own birthday party
rather than the wild shooting from the hip hi priestess
she might hope for
whats wrong with tori?
the lights are magnificent
the sound is ok for the op house
tori jerks n writhes all the way thru
she does a sorta fairytale 2nd last
nk is rapt
but
but
but
(kate bush comes on pod at this point)
it didnt move me
why?
im asking myself at the time
it just felt like tori was faking it
an incredible performance
but all in aid of what?
of course the audience lapped it up
tho strangely muted sometimes
tori only talks once
and its the olde i love australia bullshit
the kneejerk crowd all cheer
is that all you can really come up with, tori?
in the end i left puzzled
nk thought it was great
afterwards as we walk through the quay
a couple of girls come up n say
what did you think?
it was ok i say
the girls seem surprised
oh really!
no you know...it was good..i mutter
actually i dont know what to think
there were some great moments during the set
but somethings gone wrong for tori
the outfits wigs n movements....WHY?
she was a lot "sexier" before...
if thats what she wants to be
now shes weird
like a rich eccentric auntie might be weird
not necessarily nice weirdness
and talking of rich
150 bucks a ticket
times 2000
times 3 nights
toris pulling in over 600,000 bucks from sydney
shes in a cocoon
no one can tell her shes being ridiculous
just cos you can play the piano
doesnt mean that you cant be silly as well
and thats how i feel about most of it
brilliant yet silly
*
the buzzz
this legal high
made from chocolate, orange, damiana,honey, etc
was
just like the real deal
but better smoother no hangover
a powerful aphrodisiac
dreamy feeling
oh everything feels so good
lasted 4 hours or so
woke up feeling real good
will be heading over to newtown today
for more supplies
as my cafe friend said
like the best bits of cocaine n ecstacy
without the chemicals..
fiendsss this stuff is good
and perfectly legal
i have no idea how they do it
other ingredients include
kanna
l-tyrosine
octpamine
saffron
h20
E10H
the buzzz blew our minds
this is worth checking out
n
dont worry
its legal!
weird note
tori came on ipod just as i was checking the spelling!
she comes on in black wig n horrible clothes
shes touching herself.....there
indeed when she 1st took the stage
she proffered her bum to the audience
who men n women both went crazy
all night long tori was busy gesticulating
hand jiving as she hammered the keys
illustrating the songs with gestures
all of them sexual
toris hand strokes a huge imaginary phallus
tori wanks around
tori touches her bosoms n opens her legs suddenly
she turns around and again offers her ass
she writhes n twitches as she plays the piano
singing a naughty line
n checking out the audience
with an expression thats a cross between
elton john n chrissie amphlett
she is with no doubt an incredible player
make no mistake this woman is brilliant on the keys
the best bits are where it all breaks down
to tori in the upper register
her riffs going round n round
like philip glasses musical phrase-loops
she can sing too
but i quickly got tired of all her "operatic" bits
where she really takes off into the falsetto
the band is good but the drums are mixed too loud
the bass player is mellifluous
the guitarist is quite inventive
tori disappears after a while
n returns in a hideous green shiny outfit
that looks like it was in the bargain bin at st vinnies
and a long straight ginger wig
both wigs go right down to the eyes
covering much of her face
she can certainly play the piano from some different angles
but coming across more as a precocious kid
at her own birthday party
rather than the wild shooting from the hip hi priestess
she might hope for
whats wrong with tori?
the lights are magnificent
the sound is ok for the op house
tori jerks n writhes all the way thru
she does a sorta fairytale 2nd last
nk is rapt
but
but
but
(kate bush comes on pod at this point)
it didnt move me
why?
im asking myself at the time
it just felt like tori was faking it
an incredible performance
but all in aid of what?
of course the audience lapped it up
tho strangely muted sometimes
tori only talks once
and its the olde i love australia bullshit
the kneejerk crowd all cheer
is that all you can really come up with, tori?
in the end i left puzzled
nk thought it was great
afterwards as we walk through the quay
a couple of girls come up n say
what did you think?
it was ok i say
the girls seem surprised
oh really!
no you know...it was good..i mutter
actually i dont know what to think
there were some great moments during the set
but somethings gone wrong for tori
the outfits wigs n movements....WHY?
she was a lot "sexier" before...
if thats what she wants to be
now shes weird
like a rich eccentric auntie might be weird
not necessarily nice weirdness
and talking of rich
150 bucks a ticket
times 2000
times 3 nights
toris pulling in over 600,000 bucks from sydney
shes in a cocoon
no one can tell her shes being ridiculous
just cos you can play the piano
doesnt mean that you cant be silly as well
and thats how i feel about most of it
brilliant yet silly
*
the buzzz
this legal high
made from chocolate, orange, damiana,honey, etc
was
just like the real deal
but better smoother no hangover
a powerful aphrodisiac
dreamy feeling
oh everything feels so good
lasted 4 hours or so
woke up feeling real good
will be heading over to newtown today
for more supplies
as my cafe friend said
like the best bits of cocaine n ecstacy
without the chemicals..
fiendsss this stuff is good
and perfectly legal
i have no idea how they do it
other ingredients include
kanna
l-tyrosine
octpamine
saffron
h20
E10H
the buzzz blew our minds
this is worth checking out
n
dont worry
its legal!
weird note
tori came on ipod just as i was checking the spelling!
Friday, September 14, 2007
cumulative buzzz
hadda loverly burfday etc
elli n minna come to dinner
pastizzzis n salad n birthday cake
drink ruby riccadonna from silver rimmed goblets
today im walkin down my street
a guy i know in cafe game
comes out
oh you should try buzzz
a legal high sold in happy highs newtown
its made from chocolate n honey n bitter orange n saffron
n a few other things
how can that get you high i ask
its like you know how you get a little warm glow
from a chocolate bar he says
yeah i say
he says this is like eating 50 bars of chocolate
somehow intensified into a focussed wallop
ok
i get home
i say come on we're going to newtown
so we arrive over there
nk buys a new dress
tonite we're seeing t.amos at the oprah house, sydney austraylia
thats right
weve had our tickets fer munths
personally im not that over excited
tho i must admit last time she was pretty good
a bit to gurlie for me
at the core of it
i do not feel included in her songs
they are sorta about n for women in essence
i admire her talent immensely
while conceding she also owes a huge debt to k.bush
no kate no tori
kate was the 1st in my book
margo smith was the 2nd
her first album is as good as tori in most parts
and it pre-dated her too
anyway
we'll be watching tori do her thing
apparently she wears a lotta wigs
i cant wait
ooooh wig changes
apparently to play the characters on her record
can you imagine the church all changing their wiggies
for each song
and having our makeup touched up too
anyway
im sure t.amos will be brilliant as per usual
shes an amazing pianist
afterwards
ah
i'll be test driving buzzz for you
and giving you my verdict tomorrow
well
thats a day in the life of ttb
my day equals your ear
a minute beside you
and its gone
like this song
elli n minna come to dinner
pastizzzis n salad n birthday cake
drink ruby riccadonna from silver rimmed goblets
today im walkin down my street
a guy i know in cafe game
comes out
oh you should try buzzz
a legal high sold in happy highs newtown
its made from chocolate n honey n bitter orange n saffron
n a few other things
how can that get you high i ask
its like you know how you get a little warm glow
from a chocolate bar he says
yeah i say
he says this is like eating 50 bars of chocolate
somehow intensified into a focussed wallop
ok
i get home
i say come on we're going to newtown
so we arrive over there
nk buys a new dress
tonite we're seeing t.amos at the oprah house, sydney austraylia
thats right
weve had our tickets fer munths
personally im not that over excited
tho i must admit last time she was pretty good
a bit to gurlie for me
at the core of it
i do not feel included in her songs
they are sorta about n for women in essence
i admire her talent immensely
while conceding she also owes a huge debt to k.bush
no kate no tori
kate was the 1st in my book
margo smith was the 2nd
her first album is as good as tori in most parts
and it pre-dated her too
anyway
we'll be watching tori do her thing
apparently she wears a lotta wigs
i cant wait
ooooh wig changes
apparently to play the characters on her record
can you imagine the church all changing their wiggies
for each song
and having our makeup touched up too
anyway
im sure t.amos will be brilliant as per usual
shes an amazing pianist
afterwards
ah
i'll be test driving buzzz for you
and giving you my verdict tomorrow
well
thats a day in the life of ttb
my day equals your ear
a minute beside you
and its gone
like this song
Thursday, September 13, 2007
1967
oh boy
its september 13
1967
its my thirteenth birthday
im into music n im into fashion
and im in to being cool
and im in to not getting punched in the head
and im into floral shirts
and paisley shirts
satin n silk shirts
beatle boots
pinstriped pants
and im becoming aware
the adult world is calling harder
there had been a party at greg mcsomethings house
and this party was different
the parents werent there
and the kids were lying around kissing each other
afterwards everyone thought it had been a great party
oh i wanted a party like that!
join the flock said the invitation
n a picture of some pelicans or something
my parents were not into a buncha kids roaming around
in their house if they werent there
besides it was a small boring house
no good for a party anyway
but our next door neighbour had a garage
where hed had some successful parties (for oldies)
and he kindly offered
we took him up on it
we lived in a cul de sac
and we were # 7
the guy next door should be # 8, right?
wrong
the guy across the street was # 8
and thats what all the invitations said
so all the kids turned up at this confused german guys house
you can imagine this guy answering the door
no there iss no party here
schteven kilbeys house iss over there
pointing at our redbrick box
the kids drift over to our house a little miffed, i'd say
my mother greets these aussie kids at the door
she talking like the queen
no boys and girls the party is next door
the kids all groan n moan
beginning to suspect the stinker of all parties is loomin'
another kid turns up on our doorstep
whats going on ? he asks
kilbey put the wrong address on the invite
dont you even know yer own address kilbey? says someone else
then my mother gives me baby john to hold
im holding baby john
when trip fontaine the coolest prick turns up
he walks in our house
all duded up in his best party clothes
a red epauletted shirt
bone elephant cords
blue black zip up suede boots
he was coming to my party
on the condition that he was gonna get to
kiss whichever girl was on his menu that night
he wasnt there cos he liked me
he was looking for a spare room in which to pash off a chick
he was looking for some dark space n privacy for a little love
for a little love
will there be somewhere for me n kathy to go ?he asks
sure i had assured him
i mean
i needed him there
he lent a certain flare to proceedings
he was hip and he was merciless
anyhow hed arrived and walked in
seeing me nursing baby john who probably
at that very moment
cast up his accounts all over big brother
(ie: he puked up.ed)
eventually all the kids who had deigned to come
had done the 3 way bounce between 8 7 and 9
and we were all in mr dalys garage
well it was sept in canberra and it was freezing cold
the garage was damp and cold
the windows in it fogged up with our breath
there were a few deck chairs n a lawn mower or 2
there were spare car parts and a barbers chair that
went up n down
jan-jan k from across the road
who was younger than my mum n dad
and deemed "with-it"
had on butchers paper
drawn a big hippy offering these plastic flowers
trip fontaine walked straight in n took em
put them back hissed my mother to him
oh the shame
everybody at the party was very disappointed
it was so cold in there
no party atmosphere...
ive felt more partyfeeling in a graveyard
none of the kids really liked me
the girl i'd hoped to kiss
didnt come
and my mum n dad were there
mum talking like the queen
dad talking like a cockney geeza
i open my presents
the kids resent having to get me a present
it means hounding yer parents for money
and then going out n finding something
for some kid
that you didnt like...i mean
you were only there to kiss some girl or boy
in a parentless warm dark house
not to be in a garage on a cold drizzly evening
one kid called bob steery
he thrusts a dollar note in my hand
n says
but youre not worth it!
mum n dad have devised a party game
which consists of someone under a blanket
having shoes on their hands
and sitting up suddenly
frightening the kids n making them laugh
well lemme tell ya
it did neither in spades
the puzzled kids are like
what the fuck is that sposed to be
meanwhile i tried smoking straws
thats right i'd light a paper straw n inhale the smoke
no wonder im so brain damaged now, huh
finally trip fontaine mounted the barbers seat
pulled his girl onto his lap
and began to smooch
also discovering that the chair went up n down
he smooched n went up n down over n over
even this was pathetic however
in this damp quiet non celebration
in a canberran garage in the middle of a cold sept night
trip got up
proclaimed his disgust n exited
the others made their excuses n took off after him
as my mum n dad n me
carried our peanuts n soft drinks back home, next door
dad says
well...
watcha reckon slim?
did the kids enjoy it?
yeah dad
they had a ball
its september 13
1967
its my thirteenth birthday
im into music n im into fashion
and im in to being cool
and im in to not getting punched in the head
and im into floral shirts
and paisley shirts
satin n silk shirts
beatle boots
pinstriped pants
and im becoming aware
the adult world is calling harder
there had been a party at greg mcsomethings house
and this party was different
the parents werent there
and the kids were lying around kissing each other
afterwards everyone thought it had been a great party
oh i wanted a party like that!
join the flock said the invitation
n a picture of some pelicans or something
my parents were not into a buncha kids roaming around
in their house if they werent there
besides it was a small boring house
no good for a party anyway
but our next door neighbour had a garage
where hed had some successful parties (for oldies)
and he kindly offered
we took him up on it
we lived in a cul de sac
and we were # 7
the guy next door should be # 8, right?
wrong
the guy across the street was # 8
and thats what all the invitations said
so all the kids turned up at this confused german guys house
you can imagine this guy answering the door
no there iss no party here
schteven kilbeys house iss over there
pointing at our redbrick box
the kids drift over to our house a little miffed, i'd say
my mother greets these aussie kids at the door
she talking like the queen
no boys and girls the party is next door
the kids all groan n moan
beginning to suspect the stinker of all parties is loomin'
another kid turns up on our doorstep
whats going on ? he asks
kilbey put the wrong address on the invite
dont you even know yer own address kilbey? says someone else
then my mother gives me baby john to hold
im holding baby john
when trip fontaine the coolest prick turns up
he walks in our house
all duded up in his best party clothes
a red epauletted shirt
bone elephant cords
blue black zip up suede boots
he was coming to my party
on the condition that he was gonna get to
kiss whichever girl was on his menu that night
he wasnt there cos he liked me
he was looking for a spare room in which to pash off a chick
he was looking for some dark space n privacy for a little love
for a little love
will there be somewhere for me n kathy to go ?he asks
sure i had assured him
i mean
i needed him there
he lent a certain flare to proceedings
he was hip and he was merciless
anyhow hed arrived and walked in
seeing me nursing baby john who probably
at that very moment
cast up his accounts all over big brother
(ie: he puked up.ed)
eventually all the kids who had deigned to come
had done the 3 way bounce between 8 7 and 9
and we were all in mr dalys garage
well it was sept in canberra and it was freezing cold
the garage was damp and cold
the windows in it fogged up with our breath
there were a few deck chairs n a lawn mower or 2
there were spare car parts and a barbers chair that
went up n down
jan-jan k from across the road
who was younger than my mum n dad
and deemed "with-it"
had on butchers paper
drawn a big hippy offering these plastic flowers
trip fontaine walked straight in n took em
put them back hissed my mother to him
oh the shame
everybody at the party was very disappointed
it was so cold in there
no party atmosphere...
ive felt more partyfeeling in a graveyard
none of the kids really liked me
the girl i'd hoped to kiss
didnt come
and my mum n dad were there
mum talking like the queen
dad talking like a cockney geeza
i open my presents
the kids resent having to get me a present
it means hounding yer parents for money
and then going out n finding something
for some kid
that you didnt like...i mean
you were only there to kiss some girl or boy
in a parentless warm dark house
not to be in a garage on a cold drizzly evening
one kid called bob steery
he thrusts a dollar note in my hand
n says
but youre not worth it!
mum n dad have devised a party game
which consists of someone under a blanket
having shoes on their hands
and sitting up suddenly
frightening the kids n making them laugh
well lemme tell ya
it did neither in spades
the puzzled kids are like
what the fuck is that sposed to be
meanwhile i tried smoking straws
thats right i'd light a paper straw n inhale the smoke
no wonder im so brain damaged now, huh
finally trip fontaine mounted the barbers seat
pulled his girl onto his lap
and began to smooch
also discovering that the chair went up n down
he smooched n went up n down over n over
even this was pathetic however
in this damp quiet non celebration
in a canberran garage in the middle of a cold sept night
trip got up
proclaimed his disgust n exited
the others made their excuses n took off after him
as my mum n dad n me
carried our peanuts n soft drinks back home, next door
dad says
well...
watcha reckon slim?
did the kids enjoy it?
yeah dad
they had a ball
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
non-plussed
evening my little pigs
listening to sigur rose
have recorded a track today with jorden b
called the coffee song for the church
i did my vocals that is
the musics quite olde
kinda swampy slippery lazy
"and we can laugh at how easy it all is
and we can laugh cos everybodys in showbiz"
nice stuff
gee jorden is a lovely man
calm n clear
good advice
he gently steers me around
perhaps you could do it again steve he says
and you dont mind that he thinks you could do it better
anyway i write it n sing it in about 2 hours
thats long enough
i guess this track may be on itunes with hounds of love
or something
i will finish today with a poem i am about to write
right now
its starting
can you tell where one thing leaves off
and another thing starts?
can you tell where north ends and south begins?
can you feel the inbreath turning to the outbreath?
can you feel the turning of the tide?
can you feel time as it passes away into past?
infant youth man
a tiny tiny cloud can blot out the sun
what if the sun was god?
what if this was a little dream you were having
in an enchanted wood
by a gurgling brook
blossoms floating thru the eternal spring
and youre 16 forever and forever
in love in love in love
and you walk with the spirits of the trees
and you take these dryads as your lovers
and apollo comes down from olympus
and plays his music which none may resist
and drunk on purple wine
you love your days away
the nights are black studded with silver stars
the grecian night
the wine
the love
the marvellous disarray
a grove of trees hide you from the moon
in the distance is summer
on the horizon a mauve velvet evening
in the air is immortal music
filled with transient harmonics
filled with divine drones and flurries
oh arkadia!
oh centaurs and dancers!
oh our glorious procession!
time stops
the moment freezes
or hardens into a solid unchangeable thing
we will remember this
we may forget much
but we will remember this
this love
this wine
this night
for ever
listening to sigur rose
have recorded a track today with jorden b
called the coffee song for the church
i did my vocals that is
the musics quite olde
kinda swampy slippery lazy
"and we can laugh at how easy it all is
and we can laugh cos everybodys in showbiz"
nice stuff
gee jorden is a lovely man
calm n clear
good advice
he gently steers me around
perhaps you could do it again steve he says
and you dont mind that he thinks you could do it better
anyway i write it n sing it in about 2 hours
thats long enough
i guess this track may be on itunes with hounds of love
or something
i will finish today with a poem i am about to write
right now
its starting
can you tell where one thing leaves off
and another thing starts?
can you tell where north ends and south begins?
can you feel the inbreath turning to the outbreath?
can you feel the turning of the tide?
can you feel time as it passes away into past?
infant youth man
a tiny tiny cloud can blot out the sun
what if the sun was god?
what if this was a little dream you were having
in an enchanted wood
by a gurgling brook
blossoms floating thru the eternal spring
and youre 16 forever and forever
in love in love in love
and you walk with the spirits of the trees
and you take these dryads as your lovers
and apollo comes down from olympus
and plays his music which none may resist
and drunk on purple wine
you love your days away
the nights are black studded with silver stars
the grecian night
the wine
the love
the marvellous disarray
a grove of trees hide you from the moon
in the distance is summer
on the horizon a mauve velvet evening
in the air is immortal music
filled with transient harmonics
filled with divine drones and flurries
oh arkadia!
oh centaurs and dancers!
oh our glorious procession!
time stops
the moment freezes
or hardens into a solid unchangeable thing
we will remember this
we may forget much
but we will remember this
this love
this wine
this night
for ever
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
memories of a free (poetry) festival
walking up n down buns-wicke street blowing a bone
after the motel man seemed quite antipathetic to the idea
i drift off to times in this city as a childe of les n joyce
these houses on stilts and the wild vegetation
under the house with howard n angela playing
i threw a dart in russells leg
he just stood there looking at me
with "how could you?" in his eyes
he didnt even call out to mum
we go to a swimming pool complex called the oasis
the water in the different pools is freezing
look heres the film of me endlessly jumping off a diving board
dad thinks its funny in reverse
so in this version
after my white freckly body hits the water
and goes under
there is a strange tumescence in the water
and with a great gush
lo the boy appears again
and ascends back up
to land perfectly surefooted back on the diving board
dripping dry suddenly
uncle ralph n auntie stella didnt seem to like me much
they could already see me going bad when i was 6 or 7
auntie stella was an oddity in our midst
an australian.........
everyone else was english
sometimes my dad would do funny impressions
of the way she called mum joycie
and couldnt see that (in those days)
you didnt call my mum joycie
any more than youd call me stevie
but thats what (we) australians do
we put an ie or y on the enda yer name
whether you want it or not
it evens up the odds a bit
takes you down a peg or two
anyway brisbane was wild in those days
so amazingly hot
(always there at xmas!)
ralph was an old pal of dads from the british marines
this guy i could imagine in warfare
he seemed like the real deal to me
whereas my dad i found it hard to imagine him
bayonetting the enemy
it wasnt what my dad wanted to do
he wanted to have a cigarette with em
and talk about cars
but uncle ralph
i reckon he was more a warrior type
i could always hear em telling my dad
he was too soft on me
and that i was too cheeky
if only they had known that one day
i'd be back
walking up the main drag smoking a spliff
with a little box that could play 15000 songs
and headphones that cut out the outside noise
and i was listening to it all in random order
and i was getting a sign from my dead friend
via my little music box
and i stopped in to the same night owl shop
n bought raspberry speed
in a funny little can
and the r. speed n the spliff n the yoga i'd just done
and the cold shower i'd just taken
and i saw m the v
and im-ber
wave at me from a bus
and then my song came on my shuffle
a song i did with martin k
and for a moment it all locked in
like 5 lemons coming up in a fruit machine
the planets were aligned
i moved up that hill more like a rubbery youth than olde manne
energy n wherewithal surged in my body
and i dreamed a million wondrous things
which i instantly forgot again
i bought a wheatgrass juice which is liquid light
i turn up eventually at gig
now the judy wright centre
is a lovely venue no matter how you look at it
and its really nice to do yer thing there
i saw linda neil do her new passion club the night before
with tragic mandarin love story as closer
i knew how it looked from audience
i mingled with people
i signed stuff for some very nice people
ranging from young ladies to one woman even older than me
im much more the congenial mature author
than wild abandoned rocker
which is much less stress on ye olde system
and i try to be polite
and i try to focus
its hard sometimes to focus
i just keep drifting off
all the time
i fall out of character easily
you see im not really any one fixed thing
maybe thats true for everyone
but i sense more continuity in other people
than i can feel in my self
i am mercurial in all its good n bad implications
after spending a whole life thinking who i could be
i am at last realising i am just potentials
to be realised by whomever im with
no one gets a full real me
not the church
not my family
not my friends
certainly not my enemies
not strangers either
there is no full real me to be had
personalities rush in to fill a void when it becomes apparent
to one i am a saint
to another a villain
to some a genius
to many a fool
actually most people have never heard of me
and they dont give a tuppenny stuff
but anyway
its weird dealing with the public
i thought i would like it
and then i hated it
and now its ok but weird
pretty girls n ugly oafs
fans n people who want an argument
old ladies n shy young men
who can remain even handed?
can one be good at everything?
can you be a good poet n a gracious stranger?
of course you can
but was charlie baudelaire a nice bloke?
i doubt it
nonetheless
i think at the end of the day
being a nice bloke gonna get you into a heathens heaven
quicker than being an amazing poet
tho the world doth verily need more of both
i do feel like a bit of a dying breed here
the neo renaissance person i guess you could say
or a good all rounder at everything
someone who can maintain a certain aesthetic
thru out different disciplines
a certain thing you can depend on getting
anyway thats my lofty ideal
anyway thats my petty ambition
plus
trying to be reasonable
trying to understand
trying to not let my restless mind
vent its wicked side on somebody vulnerable
trying to ignore outside appearances
(probably the hardest thing for any human to do)
i want to treat everybody the way i would want to be treated
i have also extended that to the animals and the trees
i want to create things that turn people on
just for the sheer sake of it
the creation and the turning on, i mean
poetry has no reason
poetry has no ulterior motive
the iliad is not grinding an axe
illuminations are simply illuminations
a beautiful day has no agenda
a bird in the sky
however beautiful it is
there is no reason for beauty
beauty is magic
you can sift for beauty in poetry
as you might sift for gold
poetry cannot be for money
its hard to fake good poetry
only ern malley could do that
ern malley accidentally wrote in my opinion
the best aust poetry EVER
next year they should get me to do erns entire oevre
set to music i would have composed
itd be a show stopper im sure
one way or another....
anywhey
i dig poetry
i dig looking thru my klimt book with nk
when i got home
wow says sk n nk n the woofle whos also looking
boy that klimt
ooooh oh hes so damn bloody good
every curly line
every flower n womens faces
and ghosts in the ether
and lovers and naked rude ladies
everything screams his trademark genius
a style thats is so blindingly original
yet so hard to see what it is thats doing it exactly
very hard to replicate klimts style cos its elusive
the stuff is fucking unbelievably brilliant
i could never paint like this
but i might be able to capture some of these feelings
with music
let it all cross fertilize
its all permissible in art n music n love
thats it
my message
over n out
after the motel man seemed quite antipathetic to the idea
i drift off to times in this city as a childe of les n joyce
these houses on stilts and the wild vegetation
under the house with howard n angela playing
i threw a dart in russells leg
he just stood there looking at me
with "how could you?" in his eyes
he didnt even call out to mum
we go to a swimming pool complex called the oasis
the water in the different pools is freezing
look heres the film of me endlessly jumping off a diving board
dad thinks its funny in reverse
so in this version
after my white freckly body hits the water
and goes under
there is a strange tumescence in the water
and with a great gush
lo the boy appears again
and ascends back up
to land perfectly surefooted back on the diving board
dripping dry suddenly
uncle ralph n auntie stella didnt seem to like me much
they could already see me going bad when i was 6 or 7
auntie stella was an oddity in our midst
an australian.........
everyone else was english
sometimes my dad would do funny impressions
of the way she called mum joycie
and couldnt see that (in those days)
you didnt call my mum joycie
any more than youd call me stevie
but thats what (we) australians do
we put an ie or y on the enda yer name
whether you want it or not
it evens up the odds a bit
takes you down a peg or two
anyway brisbane was wild in those days
so amazingly hot
(always there at xmas!)
ralph was an old pal of dads from the british marines
this guy i could imagine in warfare
he seemed like the real deal to me
whereas my dad i found it hard to imagine him
bayonetting the enemy
it wasnt what my dad wanted to do
he wanted to have a cigarette with em
and talk about cars
but uncle ralph
i reckon he was more a warrior type
i could always hear em telling my dad
he was too soft on me
and that i was too cheeky
if only they had known that one day
i'd be back
walking up the main drag smoking a spliff
with a little box that could play 15000 songs
and headphones that cut out the outside noise
and i was listening to it all in random order
and i was getting a sign from my dead friend
via my little music box
and i stopped in to the same night owl shop
n bought raspberry speed
in a funny little can
and the r. speed n the spliff n the yoga i'd just done
and the cold shower i'd just taken
and i saw m the v
and im-ber
wave at me from a bus
and then my song came on my shuffle
a song i did with martin k
and for a moment it all locked in
like 5 lemons coming up in a fruit machine
the planets were aligned
i moved up that hill more like a rubbery youth than olde manne
energy n wherewithal surged in my body
and i dreamed a million wondrous things
which i instantly forgot again
i bought a wheatgrass juice which is liquid light
i turn up eventually at gig
now the judy wright centre
is a lovely venue no matter how you look at it
and its really nice to do yer thing there
i saw linda neil do her new passion club the night before
with tragic mandarin love story as closer
i knew how it looked from audience
i mingled with people
i signed stuff for some very nice people
ranging from young ladies to one woman even older than me
im much more the congenial mature author
than wild abandoned rocker
which is much less stress on ye olde system
and i try to be polite
and i try to focus
its hard sometimes to focus
i just keep drifting off
all the time
i fall out of character easily
you see im not really any one fixed thing
maybe thats true for everyone
but i sense more continuity in other people
than i can feel in my self
i am mercurial in all its good n bad implications
after spending a whole life thinking who i could be
i am at last realising i am just potentials
to be realised by whomever im with
no one gets a full real me
not the church
not my family
not my friends
certainly not my enemies
not strangers either
there is no full real me to be had
personalities rush in to fill a void when it becomes apparent
to one i am a saint
to another a villain
to some a genius
to many a fool
actually most people have never heard of me
and they dont give a tuppenny stuff
but anyway
its weird dealing with the public
i thought i would like it
and then i hated it
and now its ok but weird
pretty girls n ugly oafs
fans n people who want an argument
old ladies n shy young men
who can remain even handed?
can one be good at everything?
can you be a good poet n a gracious stranger?
of course you can
but was charlie baudelaire a nice bloke?
i doubt it
nonetheless
i think at the end of the day
being a nice bloke gonna get you into a heathens heaven
quicker than being an amazing poet
tho the world doth verily need more of both
i do feel like a bit of a dying breed here
the neo renaissance person i guess you could say
or a good all rounder at everything
someone who can maintain a certain aesthetic
thru out different disciplines
a certain thing you can depend on getting
anyway thats my lofty ideal
anyway thats my petty ambition
plus
trying to be reasonable
trying to understand
trying to not let my restless mind
vent its wicked side on somebody vulnerable
trying to ignore outside appearances
(probably the hardest thing for any human to do)
i want to treat everybody the way i would want to be treated
i have also extended that to the animals and the trees
i want to create things that turn people on
just for the sheer sake of it
the creation and the turning on, i mean
poetry has no reason
poetry has no ulterior motive
the iliad is not grinding an axe
illuminations are simply illuminations
a beautiful day has no agenda
a bird in the sky
however beautiful it is
there is no reason for beauty
beauty is magic
you can sift for beauty in poetry
as you might sift for gold
poetry cannot be for money
its hard to fake good poetry
only ern malley could do that
ern malley accidentally wrote in my opinion
the best aust poetry EVER
next year they should get me to do erns entire oevre
set to music i would have composed
itd be a show stopper im sure
one way or another....
anywhey
i dig poetry
i dig looking thru my klimt book with nk
when i got home
wow says sk n nk n the woofle whos also looking
boy that klimt
ooooh oh hes so damn bloody good
every curly line
every flower n womens faces
and ghosts in the ether
and lovers and naked rude ladies
everything screams his trademark genius
a style thats is so blindingly original
yet so hard to see what it is thats doing it exactly
very hard to replicate klimts style cos its elusive
the stuff is fucking unbelievably brilliant
i could never paint like this
but i might be able to capture some of these feelings
with music
let it all cross fertilize
its all permissible in art n music n love
thats it
my message
over n out
Monday, September 10, 2007
the time being has already left the building
now its over
all the stuff gets put away
pack up my unsold merch
say goodbye to the people
lastnite i catch up with bronny l.
who i used to go to school with at bullyneham high
i 1st met her in 1965
bronny was in our legendary debating team
she knew me as a mere boy
then a snakehipped teenage idol/idiot
now finally as a wise old silly fool
so nice to reminisce
bronny is now a prof in academia
oh bronny cant you get me a gig in them hallowed halls
the ivied towers of learning with certain weekly paycheck
last night i do ramble n provvy-dents with jamie h
he did a nice job considering we rehearsed for 5 minuets own-lee
then i play wolfe....
strangely as im up here hanging out with bronny
nk tells me that scarlet was in my room
going thru my drawers
then she comes out with a business card
whats that ?asks nk
bumper proffers her the card
bronwen l: lecturer in womens writing , uni of q
i mean
what were the chances of that happ-ning?
but
if not chance...
what does it signify?
i did a portrait of mr gee nunn
as his parting gift from qpf......he,
who is more dedicated to poetry
than most are dedicated to hot dinners
hes retiring as herr directeur this year
i wonder if theyll ever have back me now?
gee nunn you are a truly wonderful geezer
your g.friend jules is a legend with a great hare cut
rowan d, jovial lovely friend of the arts
jaqueline t from canada, gracious poetess
jamie n erin h, you guys rule the waives
imber n megan for being so nice n for being vegans 4 ever
wil-o who looks younger than hes got a right to
and exudes calm goodwill-o
all the poets n audiences
isolde who i met n who wrote those nice reviews
gen x , whos said she hears im still handsome(very kind)
the tech staff
the lady who made me a lentil patty at the cafe
tyrone n, rockstar in flesh n thought
special mention to raspberry speed
(yes it exists)
my new fave energy drink
nickfiction eat yer heart out cos raspberry speed
puts fucking hairs on yer chest
(not recommended for the ladies)
thanks to my mum n dad
for making me possible
and finally to god
without whom
i would not be the incredibly gifted n charismatic tee beeing
that you all worship
and would hide from the law in a second
thank you
everyone
the partys over
back to my loverly fambley
bumper
that enchanted childe with the real gone eyes
the starr with her strength n her talent
aurora the bunny-o who is my kindest daughter
elli who is sweet sixteen n a chip off the olde blokk
minna my number 1 n very tricky
n
nk who keeps me turned on
blessed with my six girls
the being fades into the airport
finds his seat
and
flies flies flies
somewhere
fiendss everywhere
i love you
sk
x
all the stuff gets put away
pack up my unsold merch
say goodbye to the people
lastnite i catch up with bronny l.
who i used to go to school with at bullyneham high
i 1st met her in 1965
bronny was in our legendary debating team
she knew me as a mere boy
then a snakehipped teenage idol/idiot
now finally as a wise old silly fool
so nice to reminisce
bronny is now a prof in academia
oh bronny cant you get me a gig in them hallowed halls
the ivied towers of learning with certain weekly paycheck
last night i do ramble n provvy-dents with jamie h
he did a nice job considering we rehearsed for 5 minuets own-lee
then i play wolfe....
strangely as im up here hanging out with bronny
nk tells me that scarlet was in my room
going thru my drawers
then she comes out with a business card
whats that ?asks nk
bumper proffers her the card
bronwen l: lecturer in womens writing , uni of q
i mean
what were the chances of that happ-ning?
but
if not chance...
what does it signify?
i did a portrait of mr gee nunn
as his parting gift from qpf......he,
who is more dedicated to poetry
than most are dedicated to hot dinners
hes retiring as herr directeur this year
i wonder if theyll ever have back me now?
gee nunn you are a truly wonderful geezer
your g.friend jules is a legend with a great hare cut
rowan d, jovial lovely friend of the arts
jaqueline t from canada, gracious poetess
jamie n erin h, you guys rule the waives
imber n megan for being so nice n for being vegans 4 ever
wil-o who looks younger than hes got a right to
and exudes calm goodwill-o
all the poets n audiences
isolde who i met n who wrote those nice reviews
gen x , whos said she hears im still handsome(very kind)
the tech staff
the lady who made me a lentil patty at the cafe
tyrone n, rockstar in flesh n thought
special mention to raspberry speed
(yes it exists)
my new fave energy drink
nickfiction eat yer heart out cos raspberry speed
puts fucking hairs on yer chest
(not recommended for the ladies)
thanks to my mum n dad
for making me possible
and finally to god
without whom
i would not be the incredibly gifted n charismatic tee beeing
that you all worship
and would hide from the law in a second
thank you
everyone
the partys over
back to my loverly fambley
bumper
that enchanted childe with the real gone eyes
the starr with her strength n her talent
aurora the bunny-o who is my kindest daughter
elli who is sweet sixteen n a chip off the olde blokk
minna my number 1 n very tricky
n
nk who keeps me turned on
blessed with my six girls
the being fades into the airport
finds his seat
and
flies flies flies
somewhere
fiendss everywhere
i love you
sk
x
Sunday, September 09, 2007
heroes in the seaweed
yeah yeah yeah
i read the f. machine booklet
all the voices in my head disrupting my performance
theyre saying
be more dramatic
less dramatic
more gesticulation
less gesticulation
youre outta time
your voice is driving us mad
i only stumble in a few places
but im not as good as i wanted to be
and im tired of myself
after a lovely vegan meal with
the nice local vegan childs...
the killer opts for tempeh burgah
i come back n do teachers n suzanne
the mic. really stinks bad
and i have to get up close to sing suzanne
and its a foul reek of cigs coffee n meaty halitosis i guess
im used to having my own clean mic usually
and i really wanted to stay away from this awful thing
but i had to get close to sing the quiet bits...
its not all dancing on clouds...
i walk round brizzy bumping into people i know
having poetic discourses n all that
a nice gentle sunday
oh yeah
n i forgot to say
the doodles in paper yessaday flying kites
sat telegraph
go you little doodles
i'll be a bossy hollywood dad
ripping off my kids and the bane of directors
bitching at the casting session bout the other brats
the doodles will have bulimia by their tenth birthday
and be in the gossip rags by 13
i'll be manipulating the game from the sideline
lining my own pockets with ill gotten gain
its just the beginning
bumper can release her first single at age 3
with sexy dance routine
for the lucrative under 2 market
i maybe could get joycie in some retirement commercials
aint that what families are for....to exploit....?
get em all on the ad wagon
deduct my commission
(and girls, in case youre wondering, its formidable)
hollywood will beckon n re embrace me
i will be forgiven n absolved
and back in the charts at # 1 all over the world
for one year with painkiller
ah....
lemme have my dreams, little stranger
i will be performing again tonite
maybe with jamie h
a few songs
at closing ceremony
its free too
a free for all
oooh
i hope that mics been disinfected
yecchhh!
i read the f. machine booklet
all the voices in my head disrupting my performance
theyre saying
be more dramatic
less dramatic
more gesticulation
less gesticulation
youre outta time
your voice is driving us mad
i only stumble in a few places
but im not as good as i wanted to be
and im tired of myself
after a lovely vegan meal with
the nice local vegan childs...
the killer opts for tempeh burgah
i come back n do teachers n suzanne
the mic. really stinks bad
and i have to get up close to sing suzanne
and its a foul reek of cigs coffee n meaty halitosis i guess
im used to having my own clean mic usually
and i really wanted to stay away from this awful thing
but i had to get close to sing the quiet bits...
its not all dancing on clouds...
i walk round brizzy bumping into people i know
having poetic discourses n all that
a nice gentle sunday
oh yeah
n i forgot to say
the doodles in paper yessaday flying kites
sat telegraph
go you little doodles
i'll be a bossy hollywood dad
ripping off my kids and the bane of directors
bitching at the casting session bout the other brats
the doodles will have bulimia by their tenth birthday
and be in the gossip rags by 13
i'll be manipulating the game from the sideline
lining my own pockets with ill gotten gain
its just the beginning
bumper can release her first single at age 3
with sexy dance routine
for the lucrative under 2 market
i maybe could get joycie in some retirement commercials
aint that what families are for....to exploit....?
get em all on the ad wagon
deduct my commission
(and girls, in case youre wondering, its formidable)
hollywood will beckon n re embrace me
i will be forgiven n absolved
and back in the charts at # 1 all over the world
for one year with painkiller
ah....
lemme have my dreams, little stranger
i will be performing again tonite
maybe with jamie h
a few songs
at closing ceremony
its free too
a free for all
oooh
i hope that mics been disinfected
yecchhh!
Saturday, September 08, 2007
splice up your life
last night i have din dins in tibetan resto
with ty n
we both have lentil rissoles n potatoes n tomato
delicious
ty is a very groovy looking guy in a 1970s way
a big fro of dirty blonde hair
smooth skin
slim body clad in rockstar civil war denim look
everybody must know who he "is"
i see some people whispering n looking our way
ty n i have a good fucking laugh at everyones expense
but mostly our own i guess
except he keeps mentioning "that song"
i dont care if its a standard
a classic
or whatever its sposed to be
i just have nothing to add
ty mentions another song
i look sadly out at the traffic
i have as much relationship with that song
as i do with those passing cars i murmur
we watch jamie h from bluebottle k
he does his solo show
now hed been mentioning me a bit in his songwriting talk
i can see now my influence upon him
but not that he copied me
but that he could dig the implications of my schtick
(whatever it is)
and he took the ball n he ran with it
doubt seeds the double album is great
and last night his performance was top notch
wonderfully inventive guitar parts on his martin guitar
lost of weird tunings n detunings
always these multiple things happening
descending/ascending basslines
while melodies appear n go in the jingly drones
the lyrics are pretty fucking good
and you know i dont bestow praise easily
thoughtful intelligent strange
youd deffo like this guy
anyway
me n jh walk home after gig
we have a lot in common
interesting.....
up early this morning
have boost juice
buy some more funny iron on patches at the market
that make me feel hip and cutting edge
or ambiguously ironic
wonder where i'll put me gene simmons patch...?
grant comes on ipod 3 times while im on buns-wick street
then gee nunn is wearing a mclennan t shirt
hows that?
have been walking round yon corner to 'ave a smoke
rowan d gave me a lovely book on klimt...superb!
rowan you are a prince among men
today i read fruit m
tonight i play lenny cehon songs
teachers n suzanne
small point of interest
sisters of mercy named best of
some girls wander by mistake
is a line from teachers
the next line
into the mess that scalpels make
oooh how visceral
how prescient
how leonard
anyway
see me murder those 2 numbers tonite
judy write centre brizzo aust
and if you buy my book
i will sign your mortage
if you buy my cee dee
i will sign your star
look alive fiendss
the killer walks among you
with ty n
we both have lentil rissoles n potatoes n tomato
delicious
ty is a very groovy looking guy in a 1970s way
a big fro of dirty blonde hair
smooth skin
slim body clad in rockstar civil war denim look
everybody must know who he "is"
i see some people whispering n looking our way
ty n i have a good fucking laugh at everyones expense
but mostly our own i guess
except he keeps mentioning "that song"
i dont care if its a standard
a classic
or whatever its sposed to be
i just have nothing to add
ty mentions another song
i look sadly out at the traffic
i have as much relationship with that song
as i do with those passing cars i murmur
we watch jamie h from bluebottle k
he does his solo show
now hed been mentioning me a bit in his songwriting talk
i can see now my influence upon him
but not that he copied me
but that he could dig the implications of my schtick
(whatever it is)
and he took the ball n he ran with it
doubt seeds the double album is great
and last night his performance was top notch
wonderfully inventive guitar parts on his martin guitar
lost of weird tunings n detunings
always these multiple things happening
descending/ascending basslines
while melodies appear n go in the jingly drones
the lyrics are pretty fucking good
and you know i dont bestow praise easily
thoughtful intelligent strange
youd deffo like this guy
anyway
me n jh walk home after gig
we have a lot in common
interesting.....
up early this morning
have boost juice
buy some more funny iron on patches at the market
that make me feel hip and cutting edge
or ambiguously ironic
wonder where i'll put me gene simmons patch...?
grant comes on ipod 3 times while im on buns-wick street
then gee nunn is wearing a mclennan t shirt
hows that?
have been walking round yon corner to 'ave a smoke
rowan d gave me a lovely book on klimt...superb!
rowan you are a prince among men
today i read fruit m
tonight i play lenny cehon songs
teachers n suzanne
small point of interest
sisters of mercy named best of
some girls wander by mistake
is a line from teachers
the next line
into the mess that scalpels make
oooh how visceral
how prescient
how leonard
anyway
see me murder those 2 numbers tonite
judy write centre brizzo aust
and if you buy my book
i will sign your mortage
if you buy my cee dee
i will sign your star
look alive fiendss
the killer walks among you
Friday, September 07, 2007
etcetera
motel room
cars drive by
brisbane stormy, rainy childe
look in the mirror
fiddle with my guitar
someone rings up
hi steve he says
someone walks around on the floor above
i practice my leonard songs
its lonely this life
must do my yoga
eat muesli n soy milk
drink grape juice
listen to ambient music
do yoga n qi gong
go to venue
do songwriting gig
yeah yeah yeah
i inhaled and i talked for an hour
songwritings this n that
i alternate between confident professor
and shy fool
i open my mouth and the words come forth
something nicely drives the machine
even if im not at the wheel
we answer some q n a
come back to motel
get an angry call from manager about "smoking" in my room
it was incense but hes pretty incensed himself
hes right...i shouldna done it
i meekly n quietly apologise
he can hear hes getting thru n he calms down
he tells me how its his living
and how the rooms should have no smell
once again hes right
i assure him there will be no more smoke of any kind
he seems satisfied and hangs up
i open all windows let this unsatisfied afternoon into my room
out there cabs cruise and kids come outta school
im not part of anything
the vertigo of my apart-ness fills me with nausea
the luxury of it all is absurd
i cant get a fix on who im supposed to be
the olde kilbey continues to crumble...
who is waiting under there ready to pop out?
cars drive by
brisbane stormy, rainy childe
look in the mirror
fiddle with my guitar
someone rings up
hi steve he says
someone walks around on the floor above
i practice my leonard songs
its lonely this life
must do my yoga
eat muesli n soy milk
drink grape juice
listen to ambient music
do yoga n qi gong
go to venue
do songwriting gig
yeah yeah yeah
i inhaled and i talked for an hour
songwritings this n that
i alternate between confident professor
and shy fool
i open my mouth and the words come forth
something nicely drives the machine
even if im not at the wheel
we answer some q n a
come back to motel
get an angry call from manager about "smoking" in my room
it was incense but hes pretty incensed himself
hes right...i shouldna done it
i meekly n quietly apologise
he can hear hes getting thru n he calms down
he tells me how its his living
and how the rooms should have no smell
once again hes right
i assure him there will be no more smoke of any kind
he seems satisfied and hangs up
i open all windows let this unsatisfied afternoon into my room
out there cabs cruise and kids come outta school
im not part of anything
the vertigo of my apart-ness fills me with nausea
the luxury of it all is absurd
i cant get a fix on who im supposed to be
the olde kilbey continues to crumble...
who is waiting under there ready to pop out?
Thursday, September 06, 2007
drug blogge
a sydney footballer is in hot water cos of drugs
the guy apparently is a champion n successful player
and hes admitted to doing ecstacy regularly for a long time
....after being sprung by a copper in england
now said player is saying oh i took it cos of the pressure
oh i took it cos im bi-polar(bear)
but not
i took it cos i like it
now the hallowed halls of the rugby league(not human league)
are wringing their hands
gnashing their teeth
scratching their cauliflower ears
saying where did we go wrong?
and a whole load of other players too have been caught
and in the same week a pamphlett arrives
about getting tuff on drugs
i thought we were already tuff on drugs
but we gotta get tuffer
if we get tuffer we can stamp em out it says
although after about a hundred years of tuffness on drugs
theyre still there
jails full of drug users who are otherwise law abiding tax payers
police system stretched so they can bust drug dealers n users
courts clogged up with it
the dealers are thrivin'
the cops are bustin'
and the user being squashed in the middle
there are just as many if not more drugs out there
than when i was a kid
more expensive
more potent
more " dangerous"
more addictive
now aint it time someone said
this war on drugs is ridiculous
you cant have a war "on" an inanimate object for a start
people obviously have some need to change conciousness
i know i do
and i know the change i "need " is not facilitated by the things
"they" say i can have
tobacco, alcohol, barbituates, prozac etc
no i dont dig em all that much
anyway
the western govts
have
to disenfranchise certain groups
have made other drugs illegal
however i really feel
that the community is paying the price
and that finally biting the bullet
minimising harm to everyone
and establishing outlets which could sell
quality drugs at reasonable prices is the answer
the govt can tax and even own them
the products should all be tested and
manufactured or grown to whatever specifications
this would eliminate
drug dealers
if stuffs being sold for what its really worth
just like sugar or coffee or wine is
then who will pay dealers high prices
when you can get a real organic bag of
(insert drug name here) for the regular nonblackmarket price?
the end of much drugrelated breakins n theft
if the addict only has to find say 30 bucks a day
instead of 300
hes not gonna be ripping off so many car stereos
if drugs are legal the cop force is freed up
instead of busting potsmokers
they can get rapists
instead of some eccy swallowing footy player
they can catch the arms runners n the real badde guys
suddenly all those prisoners in jails can go home
jail dont sort out drug addicts!
treatment may
yoga may
religion or na may
love may
help and care if you reckon they deserve it
but jailing em is expensive uncivilised and actually making things worse
if the users know what theyre getting then fewer overdoses
if the drugs are clean and rated
it will help with diseases and damage to body
of course i realise there are many people
out there
who still say
look
i dont fucking care
i want all the druggies in jail!
have a look around at the havoc this prohibition is creating
it aint working
it aint never has
it aint never will
be as tuff as you fucking well like on drugs
it aint stopping em
people have always taken drugs
i dont actually see how its even a legal or govt matter
to tell me how i may change my consciousness
who gave em that power?
believe me one day
this paradigm will fail
as all the other stuff weve ruined goes wrong on us
with the weather n wars n mad cows n stuff i mean
theyre just gonna say
we cant afford to chase this 1950s drug persecution bullshit
anymore
its impossible
its expensive
and its achieving the exact opposite
in a hundred years
itll be legal to take drugs(again as it was pre 1900)
and
(for ecological reasons)
illegal to eat meat
thats right
vegetarianism would have more impact on the wevver
than if everybody stopped drivin' their cars
imagine it
being left alone
to enjoy a nice mood alteration
and a nut cutlet
mmm
sks utopia
the guy apparently is a champion n successful player
and hes admitted to doing ecstacy regularly for a long time
....after being sprung by a copper in england
now said player is saying oh i took it cos of the pressure
oh i took it cos im bi-polar(bear)
but not
i took it cos i like it
now the hallowed halls of the rugby league(not human league)
are wringing their hands
gnashing their teeth
scratching their cauliflower ears
saying where did we go wrong?
and a whole load of other players too have been caught
and in the same week a pamphlett arrives
about getting tuff on drugs
i thought we were already tuff on drugs
but we gotta get tuffer
if we get tuffer we can stamp em out it says
although after about a hundred years of tuffness on drugs
theyre still there
jails full of drug users who are otherwise law abiding tax payers
police system stretched so they can bust drug dealers n users
courts clogged up with it
the dealers are thrivin'
the cops are bustin'
and the user being squashed in the middle
there are just as many if not more drugs out there
than when i was a kid
more expensive
more potent
more " dangerous"
more addictive
now aint it time someone said
this war on drugs is ridiculous
you cant have a war "on" an inanimate object for a start
people obviously have some need to change conciousness
i know i do
and i know the change i "need " is not facilitated by the things
"they" say i can have
tobacco, alcohol, barbituates, prozac etc
no i dont dig em all that much
anyway
the western govts
have
to disenfranchise certain groups
have made other drugs illegal
however i really feel
that the community is paying the price
and that finally biting the bullet
minimising harm to everyone
and establishing outlets which could sell
quality drugs at reasonable prices is the answer
the govt can tax and even own them
the products should all be tested and
manufactured or grown to whatever specifications
this would eliminate
drug dealers
if stuffs being sold for what its really worth
just like sugar or coffee or wine is
then who will pay dealers high prices
when you can get a real organic bag of
(insert drug name here) for the regular nonblackmarket price?
the end of much drugrelated breakins n theft
if the addict only has to find say 30 bucks a day
instead of 300
hes not gonna be ripping off so many car stereos
if drugs are legal the cop force is freed up
instead of busting potsmokers
they can get rapists
instead of some eccy swallowing footy player
they can catch the arms runners n the real badde guys
suddenly all those prisoners in jails can go home
jail dont sort out drug addicts!
treatment may
yoga may
religion or na may
love may
help and care if you reckon they deserve it
but jailing em is expensive uncivilised and actually making things worse
if the users know what theyre getting then fewer overdoses
if the drugs are clean and rated
it will help with diseases and damage to body
of course i realise there are many people
out there
who still say
look
i dont fucking care
i want all the druggies in jail!
have a look around at the havoc this prohibition is creating
it aint working
it aint never has
it aint never will
be as tuff as you fucking well like on drugs
it aint stopping em
people have always taken drugs
i dont actually see how its even a legal or govt matter
to tell me how i may change my consciousness
who gave em that power?
believe me one day
this paradigm will fail
as all the other stuff weve ruined goes wrong on us
with the weather n wars n mad cows n stuff i mean
theyre just gonna say
we cant afford to chase this 1950s drug persecution bullshit
anymore
its impossible
its expensive
and its achieving the exact opposite
in a hundred years
itll be legal to take drugs(again as it was pre 1900)
and
(for ecological reasons)
illegal to eat meat
thats right
vegetarianism would have more impact on the wevver
than if everybody stopped drivin' their cars
imagine it
being left alone
to enjoy a nice mood alteration
and a nut cutlet
mmm
sks utopia
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