man grove

deep n dirty
the wind burns
my eyes are wild
hurtling headlong
friction ripping off my layers
i re enter an atmosphere
i plunge downwards towards the end
i fall apart all over the place
look out now
when ya gonna learn
i achieve velocity with mere words
put the petal to the metal
i explode in your mind like a balm
i am all over the shop excuse me
i blast out my raquet in the omni friggin' present heat
i wobble before i pick up speed
i overheat so easily in the marshes
soon we are lost on the highway in :
trees wave limply in the still air
something slips into the water
every move brings more stalemate
i randomly string sentences together
and pretend its a blog
or a poem
or an impressionistick diary
barry came down the pool n punched my head in
dutch peter n lightfoot dragged him away
covered in my blood
barry slipped into the sea
he was immediately snapped up by a nasty sharky shark
which masticated him agonizingly
sorry bout the grin then
in my dream
im singing some song
in the heaty heat
and i
like
look out n there is my accountant david r
now a knight of the garter snake
and i think
i'm glad he gotta good seat then
and then
i wave my eyes around
i open my arms
good god....i'm ascending...thru out...
i twinkle
i hover
i disappear
properly
away from the hoi polloi
who couldnt dig my deep trip
in the swamp of my life
i flail i flounder
i tread on dangerous things
i put my hand in the wrong places
i trust my voice which whispers wordlessly
it says
only when youre dead
only
when
youre
dead
i enter samsara
check in here
the voice warns me guides me guards me
the voice in my head talks in a dead language
the voice in my head instructs me to do unspeakable things
the voice in my head keeps mentioning some stupid name
i begin to lose my temper down the long black hall
i imagine all the tiniest details of some room
i dont think ive ever been or wanna go
i turn on the radio and out jumps that voice again
the voice gives me addresses
it gives me messages from our beyond
from our far flung beyond over yonder
from some dead painter wanna use me
let me see
he says in some flemish cafe
as he counts out twenty ducats
the summer day has dazzled everyone here
we sit around languidly drinking n smoking
we celebrate the moon by strictly observed rites
kilbey types away
the painter has a sleep
the farmer grows his stuff
the dealer slings his bags
the singer sings things better left unsung
the junkie misses the vein
the driver misses the train
the lion misses the lamb
the lamb is jammed in a jamb
maybe it should ram
yeah i do my best
yeah i wander abroad
yeah i don a disguise
go amongst men as a beggar
please pay me for my bloggs
i shout feebly into the dust of caesars wanking chariot
i am whipped down by the mercenaries
who ride in empires wake
you dont know the half of it sunshine
kilbey has nearly had enough
time to close up shop
time to hunker down
time for private life
time for the trees that speak to me of their properties
time to muse on everything that ever happened to me
time to straighten it all out before i lay me down in slumber
leave me then
here
no where else to go
but wherever i want
but i dont believe it
not all the time

a secret sung

fiendss
your humble bumbling hero did well
a lovely venue
a big crowd
an appreciative bunch
the triffids played like demons
i came on 2/3 rds the way thru
sing stolen property
everything goes according to plan
the words now lodged in my head
i am free to interpret
what an amazing song
it goes down great
next lonely stretch
wow
we knock it dead
next wide open road
good but not as good as the others
encore :field of glass
i go to fucking town
running about screaming myself horse
i fall to my knees
i wave me bloody arms about
i give it everything
i let my mind shutup
and i let my voice just roar n sing
the words all come off their carousel in my head
i nail it
i nail it good
no major cock-ups
some minor timing issues,,,nothing more
what a great nite
im knackered
go home
eschew after party bollocks
tomorrow : bimbadgen winery
ok
i'm well on course
love
kilbey

season in hell

melnibone
too thousand plus nine
temp : 117 degrees
altitude : cruising, thank you
destination : yet to be confirmed
mission : to lose myself within 4 songs
while simultaneously getting l'audience off

this only will be accomplished by giving it my all
tonight hamer hall
i must be marvellous yes
but i must subsume myself
to the greater purpose:
the transcendence of l'audience
its not about me
i am a cog in a big mechanism
wow they gotta lotta players
biggest band i ever played with
2 drummers
2 keyboardists
up to 6 or 7 guitarists
2 violinsts
i cellist
i bass player (but what a player)
sometimes electric vibes
and a whole bunch of singers
a three hour plus extravaganza
a crash course in the genius of dave mccomb
if you aint crying at the end of this.......
rehearsed yesterday
man
if its as good as it was yesterday tonight
i'll be well pleased
when i sing these songs
i release some inner beasts
and they come roaring up to the surface
kicking out that smirking detached kilbey
and replacing him with some charged up
souped up
geed up
geezer
wow but they are great songs to sing
you can never love yer own songs
the way you love anybody elses
its not possible
my own songs ....ah i know how they were done
other people songs i can lose myself in
i play a part
but the part swallows me up
i am amazed everytime i open my eyes
i'm just singing a song
i hope the triffids extravaganza
comes to a town near you
cos this is like the last waltz or rolling thunder revue or sumthing
i got butterflies n goosebumps
just sitting here
dressed in a towel
in some hotel just behind the gig
its already hotter than than the billy-o
(a line from a song i sing tonight
summer vacation n its 40 degrees)
ok
time for yoga
lunch meeting
soundcheck
wait around
wait around
wait around
then
knock knock knock...mr kilbey........
YOURE ON!

sing a gazelle

melbourne 2009
arrived yessaday n straight into it
if you jus' chooned in
your humble hero is down here singing with triffids
melby is going through a 40 degree heat wave for 4 days
"the worst in the last hundred years"
good timing being
anyway
i get a nice suite at some boo-teak hotel
i hurry on down to fitzroy
where le triffs are rehearsaling
theres all the regs
marty c back on bass
plus
Our Mr Ricky
who is simply fucking ubiquitous
in my dreams n real life
in this band or that
mick harvey fresh out of the bad seeds
one extra drummer mark
one extra violinist n guitar player
one cellist
one piano player
one other extra guitarist
i look up during one song
theres six geezers all playing the bleedin' guitar
i stop the song
i say
uh ...i think this song needs more guitars....
i mean
fuck it all
can you ever have too many guitars??
we do my songs
they rip my voice apart
i dunno why
rob mccomb says just take it easy
i say i will
then i do it again
he says
you cant help it, can you?
the triffs sound real real real good
i love my songs
believe me folks
singing these takes a lot more wherewithal
than utmw
which takes up as much energy as a yawn
these songs
you gotta give em everything
so i sing with my whole fucking body
instantly bathed in perspiration
i launch into lonely stretch
which is in my top 5 songs of all time (today)
with my eyes closed
its night
i am driving in the bush n i'm lost
i am so surprised when the song ends
n i'm standing there singing in fitzroy melb
on a hot afternoon
after triffs
i go off with glenn bennie
n do some more vox on gb3 next album
tim who owns the studio is real nice
but his wife diamanda galahs is a bit of a wild one
sitting in the back garden with her friend mary
drinkin booze n listening to the music
although very warm
i enjoyed myself in the little booth
singing to these classic gb backing tracks
a very nice home set up.....
and a nice bunch of human beingz
so home to beddy byes
oh the bed aint so comf
oh the pillow is too effing hard
now as all my admirers will tell you
i have a long swanlike graceful neck
but youd have to be giraffe
to sleep comfy on these pillows
now i'm up early
writing to you lot
coz i know you'll all fret
if you think i'm m.i.a
today
a day of some rest
some meetings etc
now will do yoga
n qi gong
n all the rest
at 714 in the morning
a tres formidable day is getting itself together
a hundred fucking degrees or more
yeah?
BRING IT ON!

the tragedians

dont come here looking for answers
i am quite patently mad
my parallel universes are leaking
vishnu swirls it all around
the walls and barriers have collapsed
everything is on
everything happens at once
clairaudience
i got it in spades
i'm sitting in the park with kathy my twin sister
well she looks like elektra my daughter
only shes taller i guess
and shes dressed like them biblical n ancient women
and shes saying steven why did you let me fade in your world...?
and i'm saying oh kathy...
when david neil and ricky turn up
and ricky looks like my dad when he was young
and david neil looks tired
and david says
i been talking to ricky about my album, man...
ricky says: wait till ya hear this stuff, man...
and ricky says : hey kathy....how you doing...?
and kathy says: ooh its our mister ricky....
and david neil says : i didnt know you hadda sister, man
and he says : hi , my names david....
and kathy giggles
and she says: oh i know who you are.....
and ricky plonks himself down and he starts rambling
hes talking about a show he saw
but i aint listening
i'm watching david chatting up kathy
and i'm getting real real angry as they sit there laughing
and davids saying did you hear these guys are rereleasing my stuff....?
and kathys saying i bought the wilderness years for my brothers birthday
when we were sixteen......
and david says hey far out are you identical twins?
and kathys explaining all the different types of twins to david
and rickys telling me about this guitar hes gonna buy
and then ricky leans in low n says
man theres been a lot of print-thru today.....
i say what do you mean, hombre?
he looks up at the darkening sky
you know...the parallels....bleeding in to us here...
do you really believe in that stuff? i ask
whoah man...aint that david neil...hes dead!
and steve....kathys not supposed to be here....ricki hisses
i say fuck!
david neil and kathy stand up
we're gonna get a drink he says
oh yeah ?....i say standing up
ricky says ooh take it easy n slightly restraining my arm
i shake it off angrily
i take kathy aside
dont go n drink with him!
she stares back
a female version of me
or am i
a parallel male version of her?
she was born 13 minutes after me
i have always tried to boss her around
i have always competed with her for dads affection
i have done things to get her into trouble
i have been rude and stupid and aloof
she stares back at me furious
i dont even exist in your world
and you dare to tell me who i can drink with...!?
david neil sticks his nose in
whats the problem here my man?
no fucking problem man...
we start pushing each other
you canadian prick....
you fuckin' wanna piece of me..?
get yer fucking coat off then....
ricky jumps up
whoa hey hey slow down
he gently takes neil outta my face
kathy shakes her head
steven, he'd have you for breakfast...dont be stupid...
kathy i say
dont fuck david neil!
we stand there facing off
the same height
the same eyes
the same intensity
steven she says
you got some fucking nerve...
and then she smiles
and she looks just a photo i saw of her once
and she tries to embrace me
but i'm pushing her away
no no no
and david neil says :kathy, you comin'?
and its night now properly
and peacocks stroll through the park
and genetically modified unicorns
and lovely little water dragons
and graceful striped swans
and mythological chimeras
and dwarves dressed in satin finery
and marc bolan comes out of a big hollow tree
and dad appears out of nowhere
dont tell me you 2 are at it again?
and he looks at kathy with favour
and me with disfavour
ricky says is that your dad?
and kathy says
dad this is ricky n this is david
and dad says david neil?
david says yeah
and dad sings a few bars of one of davids songs
and everybody laughs a little
and dad starts talking about the piano
and kathy puts her arm around his waist
and they both giggle as she squeezes him
come 'ere then slim! dad says
and kathy and dad beckon to me
but i cant i cant i cant
and david neil says
steve whats up with you?
and i turn around
david youre dead
dad youre dead
kathy you dont belong here anymore
ricky says : now youre being a real bummer, man...
and i say
ok
all of you
do what you want
and i'm crying in frustration
cos i cant control anybody let alone myself
and i love davids music
and i love my long gone dad
and i love my little sister kk
but they all walk away
walk away
walk away
you could go after 'em says ricky quietly
no i couldnt i say
and we both sit there for a long time in the darkness
eventually my amigo pulls something out of his pocket
and sticks a thin white joint in my gob
what about the cops i say?
fuck em ! he says
as his lighter flares
in the black australian summer night
and i inhale
deeply

heartbreaking blog of epic proportions

softness
entering sleep another way
meander over verdant vista
hook up with yourself sometime
forever never over
the place where songs are
pictures of songs
vision of sound
songs growing wild
songs on the vine
songs for the asking masking and basking
songs long and short
songs of songs
what is a good song?
a good song makes it better
a bad song makes it worse
my songs avoid these issues
my songs are not good or bad
my songs are ideas
expressed by the uni-verse
through me
its only son
my songs are not about things
they are the things themselves
once written they exist eternally
once sung they move into your cortexes
my songs i heard on some wind
my songs i snatched from your dreams
my songs accompany me through life
they arrive before me and switch on the music
they wait till i am asleep n turn off the light
my songs are solid
my songs have minds of their own
when my songs hear a new song
they come running to me
"a new song a new song!"
my songs dont argue with each other over keys
my songs are so ambiguous
only god knows their true meaning
my songs have no true meaning on earth
i borrowed them from the thin air
i never remember their birthdays
once gone some never return
once youve worked them out
they will become shy around you
my songs are memoryproof
my songs are as good as their word
my songs are masculine feminine and child
my songs call on the past
they visit the future
they dabble in the present
they discover themselves
re establish a connexion
burn themselves onto hard distance
my songs go lala la la la la de da
my songs go bang bang bang
my songs howl in terror and delight
my songs are bait a trap a fix a stone
a stallion
a river
a counter point
a reprise
why dont we sing this song altogether
open our eyes let the pictures come

surprising facts about fiction

kilbey
type
type
type
go olde boy
type it all up
like an eagle in the skyways
its too hot to imagine a blog
the sweat runs over my ibook
as i labour away
in the bristling morning
stick on my migrastick for my ever present headache
i told ya genius was pain
i'm hot n i'm angry
and all these words pouring outta me like the sweat
and planes cruise thru the painful sky
their noise re echoing in the filthy heat
oh the drums
oh the drums
oh the infernal summer
sitting here unclad n sweating
hot n red like an olde lobsterman
in some hot little hole
i wave my great clause around
and i boil slowly in the drowning air
get a fix on me
i'm just behind those cliffs
in my hot little house
and i'm tuned in to the heat
and i'm wired up all over my mansuit
and i move thru this air like a missile
i eat mangoes n bananas
i drink rice milk
at least my diet is pure
i vibrate so much faster now
i can dissolve
i can leave if i want
i have written 2 thousand songs
i sing the body hypnotique
i am no prophet in any land
i am too fucking good for them
i coulda been a contenderizer
i coulda had it all
but it was not my fate
this had to be my path
because fame n flattery n gluttony
bring ya monotony
and if you try to play
monotony
you may end up with a supertax gobblin' up your pass go dough
while being in mayfair in a red hotel recedes into yer distance
and i'm tired of only being second in the beauty contest
and i'm too hot to care about yer triple double six
and i wont visit ya in jail
because i hate those timid freed men
and i suppress murderous thoughts
brought on by the oh the heat...
i hit the pool soon
yeah if i swim it all out like an eagle in the skyway
yeah my unicorn you were born to it
yeah lithon the black
the rider of stars
yeah
tyrannosaurus rex
the eater of cars
yeah
time being in excelsis
the kicker of arse
yeah
cover me wild bill hickok
yeah cover me botticelli
yeah cover me mickey finn
yeah cover me gala dali
yeah cover me dave mccomb
yeah cover me ian rilen
yeah cover me narcissus
yeah cover me bewlay sisters
yeah heres some heat for all my fans still in winter
heres some hot air from the furnace of the sun
heres some gaseous explosions straight outta mah head
heres some warmth from my savage pen
heres some january blast from the antipodes
where things are warming up
hold my sweaty hand you stupid world
i'm gonna lead ya down the jardin path
bring yer parasol
bring your suntan lotion
bring yer fucking hat
bring yer white clothes
bring your goggles n schnorkle
bring yer flippers n yer flip flops
pull yer thongs over those things
sing a song like i sings
i sings about the hot bite of the clouds
i sings about men who turn into pigs
n women who turn into witches
i sing about the distance n the time
i sing about the zeitgeist and its tendrils
i sing about the opulence of vishnu
i sing about the capriciousness of venus
i sing about getting born n the big sleep
i sing about the love between
my brothers n my sisters
all over this triple world
and why
you ask
why why why
do you sing sing sing of these things, oh kilbey...?

BECAUSE NO ONE ELSE FUCKING CAN!

sydneys weather forecast : infernal fucking heat

jesus christ...i'm an englishman
its just gone 7 in the morning
and its over 85 degrees
AND I LIVE IN THE COOL PART OF TOWN
poor old timbo its gotta be 10 degrees more
out his way in the western subs
a giant praying mantis hangs off my fly screen
my room is such an unbelievable mess
i cant find anything
last night me n scarlet kilbey
who is my familiar
who is my double
who is my opposite
we went down n had a swim at 8 pm
we talked all the way there
lil sk :would the bock-ock man be there ?
big sk : no...i doubt it
lil ; would ariel the mermaid....or king triton...?
big : maybe.....
lil : or prepps eregut
(this is her way of saying prince eric who is ariels hubby)
big : no no prepps eregut
lil (becoming angry) : not prepps eregut PREPPS EREGUT!!!
big : ok ok ok
we get down to bondi bloody beach
its all blokes with metal detectors
and couples who should getta room
but are making out
making up
or making it
on the beach in the fading light
another dad with a kid scarlets age
scarlet n the kid hook up immediately
every time i try to talk to the dad tho
the little brat comes over n screams
why?
jesus his shrill little screams hurt my old damaged ears
the dad drops his conversation like hotcakes
when the little bugger interrupts us
the kid demands that they go home
fuck mate ..i say
the first half yer life
yer parents boss ya round
the second half its yer fuckin' kids...
he smiles sadly n wanders off
with the kid on his shoulders
still ordering him round
scarlet kilbey is throwing herself into the surf with glee
the water is icy cold and i feel a million times better
the moment the pacific ocean lays its cool cool hands on my head
the waves are breaking onshore
and i scratch up me chest on the sand
my swimmers fill up with sand too
and despite a long shower
some of the sand rides home with me
in all kinds of intimate places
later to irritate me all night long....oh bollocks!
me n scarlet stop in at an israeli place
n buy some hot chips
it burns my hand to carry em
and i drop most of em on the footpath
just outside our blooming place
i come in with a half empty ripped bag
but aurora n scarlet n i still tuck in to some that are left
yadda yadda yadda
the heat goes on into the night
i wake up at 2 30 unable to sleep
i sit on the balcony in the darkness
there is not one breath of air
the night is totally still
it still must be about 90 something
bloody colonies!
phew...whatta scorcher
izzit hot enuff for ya then ?

long hot summer

fucking hot day blooms outside my door
its gonna be a million degrees
and its not yet even 8 oh clock
i am the time being
these are my journals
everything you read here is true
everything is permitted
we are making good time
we are covering vast distances
we are off the beaten track
we are in the interzone
here we are in the white hot day of gods summer
here we are on the hill of morning
here we are waiting in the true haze of memory
we are at the heart of the controls
we stand in nepal n chat with lord ganesha
we crash land on cythera ...wheres aphrodite...?
anywhere you wanna go just be there
anything you wanna have just take it
yeah life speeds up ...i told you that...
but oh
i'm loving being olde
now i have the POWER
ha ha ha
this brief flowering before i'm scrambled again
took me so long to put this all together
all things are becoming obvious again
all the things i shoulda remembered
along the way
i perceive the patterns behind art music poetry
i perceive the lie of the land
i perceive the handsome men n lovely ladies
i perceive the white stars burning in their blue holes
i perceive the children endlessly asking questions
i perceive the evil in all mens hearts
the carelessness
the futility
the ambition
yes i see
yes i note
my many faults n failings
my own trespass
my own cruelties
my own bitternesses
my own lacks
my own unnecessary
my own brutal
my my my
the weather outside turns overcast
i will take my girls to the beach
they will chatter to me all the way and back
they will plunge into the ocean
the way they will one day
plunge into the arms of men
and i.....
i will disappear into the undetermined future
i will reappear
well masked
no doubt
i will come back
and struggle all over again
but next time
i will reach a slightly higher point than this
this steve kilbey in his nice mansuit
if you cant feel the truth in this....
if you cant see it....
oh well
nevermind

meanwhile....

odysseus still on the island
why does he wanna go home so badly......?
prospero still hates his brother who will be arriving shortly
and he cant stop kicking caliban
but he cant kick magick
jadis the empress of all narnia is up to her nose in snow
shes tall n white n definitely has black hair
what does she want?
shes hooked on ice
she looks so good offering that apple though
gee you could sure use an apple like that
and then you could strudel it up or something
or brown sugar and brandy
and pour me some more triple secs n raspberry juice
and throw in some red wine and some more of that green ice
steve kilbey walks in a bar with a talking mirror
all the magic realists are having themselves on
we dumbly watch some tv show in portugese
nobody knows my former form
children surround me asking questions
i tell kilbey to lend me a dollar
i tell kilbey to knuckle down n work
i tell kilbey
go n fuckin' knuckle any little prick who bothers ya!
i tell kilbey
man , if i was you i'd be worried .......
i tell him that 2 n 2 equals 13
and i tell him to write a song about billy franklin
and i ask him where the sun goes
and i ask him how far have we still gotta go, mate...?
and i try to include a little of everything
to keep EVERYBODY happy
kilbey was in a film yessaday
oh yes typecaste
the zen furniture salesman
solving the crossword clue
SAMSARA
gee n there were statues of buddha n everything
(hey! this was bondi!)
i work on a painting all night
gee kilbeys good
i mean
obviously i can say that without being bi-assed
i mean cmon
thats a good painting aint it?
(droll voice in other room : yeah hes fucking picasso...!)
give old kilbey a brake
he didnae start painting till he had one foot in the grave
anyway my god colourful......?
every blinkin' colour in the book....and then some....
in spades....thats fer fucken shore...
yeah go kilbo
go kilbo
the paintbrush obeys my every command
flick i say
caress i say
stroke i say
withdraw i say
circular motion i say
up n down i say
side to side i say
die-agonal i say
oh my secret technique
oh my gouache n pastel one two three
oh my process n my modus operandi
oh my good n bad luck
oh my spatial co ordination
oh my oh my
gee i seem to be rattling on nervously again
a right bloody old ramble
look back at painting
look it is good
we set high standards for the old panther round here
whips n chairs n flaming hoops
the audience stands up n cheers
venus gets born all forlorn
vincent van go go
thinks
why doesnt anyone ever fucking buy my stuff?
al crowley says
do what thy wilt shall be the whole of the law
does that mean
we can do whatever the hell we want?
or does that mean
bring on the olde hedonistic carry-on?
or did it just sound good?
or did kilbey go a little heavy on the turquoise
or did olde prospero really renounce magic?
ive got a new pair of $199 glasses...extra pear free
i see kilbey for the first time in years
wow what is happening to this cat
as age sun yoga life drugs n veganism all catch up w/his face
funny how time is the great equalizer
we all start off looking the same as babies
we all end up looking the same as old folks
during the ride
i been fat n thin n pretty n ugly
i been tanned n pale n freckled n burnt
i had fuckin' red hair blond hair black hair
long hair short hair thick hair thin hair
i had gold rings n mexican silver crosses
i had beards n goatees n sidies
n clean shaven n 5 oclock shadows
now what the hell comes out the other side
after all that
who doth emerge from the talking mirror
steve fuckin' kilbey 2009
revamped remodelled
re-ass-embled
from swiss/czech elektrum diabolic engineering
(now with sun tan n white beard!)
renaissance-man.org
ring now
our telephonists are stoned n waiting to hassle you
ricky n me talked to david neil and he says hi
he says to tell ya
(even tho hes dead)
that hes still thinking of ya
and that
the wilderness years
will be coming
to a computer screen near you
soon-ish
and narnia is a cool place
except for that enchantment n all of that
n my twin sister kathy is turning 21 next month
and the japanese investors ...were they satisfied
and erskine...what a fraud
and the church.......why no girl popes?
and rock me amadeus
and rock me ammon jupiter
and rock me loki
and rock me athene silvertongue
and rock me annie oak-lee
and rock me guy forks
and rock me mark feld
and rock me sam therapy
and rock me al swearengen
and rock me old diggers down the pool
and rock me western world
and rock me over n under n inter n utter
i dont care any more

oh vishnu

the night has a thousand eyes
the indian night
where krishna waits for his radha
where swans glide silently o'er black waters
and flowers perfume the darkness
that sound of the flute
krishnas flute
playing
off in the distance
listen!
there......
deep amongst the trees
deep in the deep heart of the night
when the 21st century sleeps .....
the 21st century
i hate it!
i hate the noise
i hate the rules
i hate the humdrum
everything in me longs to be gone
to walk in that peaceful place
to lay by grey lakes in evenings
its surface a mirror of heaven
to dissolve my soul of steve kilbey
to wash that man right out of my hair
i am not him
he is a bouy floating on my sea
he is a spokesman for only himself
in times of pain
in times of danger
we separate
the deep me
the shallow me
when the bubble bursts
when the parties are all over
when the masks are all forgotten
me as big as the sky
me being anywhere
multi-locational
omni-directional
oh vishnu this is hard to reconcile to kilbey
oh vishnu
are you still listening in that little house in my heart
are you beside me all the way
are you a symbol
are you a possibility
are you a way for stupid men to approach the truth
with your one thousand names
colour of a cloud
your compassionate eyes that see everything
each sparrowfall
each sacrifice however small
each transgression
each prayer
pray harder ! someone says
sling yourself into it
give whatever you can
believe whatever you can
vishnu is dreaming this all up
we're all part of his dream
he sleeps out there
and his lovely wife soothes him as he dreams this stuff up
his lovely wife who happens to be the goddess of fortune
she smooths his hair
she gently strokes his temples
as he dreams dreams dreams
dreams indistinguishable from reality
reality within a dream
big dreams of universes
small dreams of ants
fast dream of man
slow dream of time
life after life after life
the same old routine
am i awake
am i asleep
am i franz bloody kafka
or am i really a beetle this time
is there life on other planets
hell yeah
whats its all about alfie
when you said you had it all worked out
why should we be nice to our each other
after all it was all someone elses fault
and every generation throws a hero up the pop charts
and no one can help themselves
destiny is pre ordained but i got my free will
dont i?
i see it all coming i could get outta the way
the deep me says duck you fucking fool
the shallow me
the kilbey
the erm steve kilbey
he says
lets 'ave a look
and down comes the comet
or the earth opens wide in a chasm
or lady godiva stops on 'er 'orse
and points
and says
him!
he looked!
and everybody gets angry
and i'm running away from these angry villagers
cos i'm a heretic and a lunatic
and just as theyre banging me up on a flaming cross
i'm thinking hang on....
the deep me is thinking
hang on.....
and i wake up
and i get born
and i grow up in some ways
and i learn my lessons
and i do my bit
i sing my songs
i do my chores
and i get thoroughly lost
despite the many signs you have placed here
which say
danger ahead!
this way!
that way!
you are now entering no mans land
and the signs i didnt see
cos i was too busy driving
driving my point home
driving a hard old bargain
driving people crazy
in many different and absurd ways
shallowman your life is the unexpurgated living daylights
india is as distant as ever
it calls you but you are deaf
anxiety follows you all of your days
an idiot with a leaf blower in your quietest garden
your feathers are so ruffled you can hardly fly
you stand on the ground taking potshots at turkeys
you curse the racket of the times in a loud voice
why do i have to do this
why do i have to do that
why this question
kilbey slumps
kilbey has run out of steam
horrible industrial sounds mar this quiet morning
disturbing my reverie
with their roars and screams and grinds
india recedes before my messed up minds eye
krishnas dreamy flute is drowned out
radha is lost in the night
the swans fly off
the flowers close up
and the 21st century wakes
all wimpy and useless
looks itself in the mirror
9 years old
it says
fuck!

new church album(straight from the panthers mouth)

been listening to new church album
we gonna try n do some final fixes and stuff
it should all be finished soonish
can reveal names of songs
not necessarily in this order
hope the other churchmen dont mind me spilling the beans
(fuck em if they cant take a joke!)
COBALT BLUEPRINT
this will be the opener for sure
weird chord progression
claustrophobic mood
loads of beautiful guitar solos
sample lyric:
motel bar the dirty sulky moon
turn my head up
let it all cocoon
**************
DEADMANS HAND
i play a downwards guitar thing
marty plays a complicated up n down bass
tim weighs in at end with george harrison guitar solo
one of my faves anyway
sample lyric :
dealing out love n retribution
dealing out the deadmans hand
**************************
OPERETTA
probably the closer of the album
i play piano
marty on bass
pete on string guitar
frankie k on whimsical 12 string
this is like a mini song cycle
i think this is a fucking cracker!
you gonna love it or else
sample lyric:
in summer time
picking up an insistent distant beat
beach comber come home now
come in from the heat
*****************************
PANGAEA
beatley melodic mellotrons
if there was a single
this would be it i suppose
sample lyric :
pangaea uh uh alright
pangaea uh ah together

this ones easy to love!
*************************
HAPPENSTANCE
i dunno ...pastoral or something
then marty starts singing too
and things become darker
like im in day
and hes in night
lots of weird noises on there
some lovely fuckedup guitar sounds
but still its very melodic
sample lyric:
marty : close your eyes in the dark
theyve opened up a door
you feel the energy arc...
me : when the honeyed days of love return
and the king is drunk upon his throne
****************************************
SUNKEN SUN
a shorter strange little song
female mellotron vox
me doing a santana lead at the end (he hopes!)
sample lyric :
i ripped up my return ticket
n hurled it into the sky
i kneeled down n i kissed the ground
i knew then it was your turn to fly
***********************************
SPACE SAVIOUR
ok this one rocks
its rocks raggedly n stumbling along
i play guitar
marty plays drums
i dunno
its got piano n organ n stuff too
it really doth rock, childe
sample lyric:
oh my little panda
i dont understand her
with her natural grandeur
and i cant let it go....
**************************
ANCHORAGE
a cold and nasty song
about some ambiguous 'orrible goings on
i play discordant guitar
peter on twin basses
cello too
icy!
sample lyric :
down at the docks
i was shocked not to be discovered..
*********************************
LUNAR
downright weird dark little song
that changes all over the place
until before yer very eyes it turns into
a brief anthemic doo dah
indescribable!
sample lyric:
all that it was was a cannibal buzz
leading you on day on day
************************************
ON ANGEL STREET
i play organ
frankie on bass
marty on disturbed guitar
a sad sad song
sample lyric:
i saw your brother during lunch
i knew at once that he was mad
he had
been standing in the rain
to catch some snow
*******************************

overall this is a pretty impressive record
a different atmosphere from ultc by a long shot
there will also be an e.p.
featuring
pangaea
so love may find us(the epic)
l.l.c. pk singing
insanity mwp singing

stay tuned











fin it

essential listening : figments of emancipation

my wonderful accountant sir david r
sent me the doctors of madness 2nd n 3rd albums
which i havent heard for a long long time
figments of emancipation, the 2nd, is a real corker
i guess it came out in 76 or 77
it got real bad reviews n presumably sold nothing
but its better than all them new wave records put together
i mean
whod wanna listen to the damned these days....?
anyway
its full of screaming violins and rocking guitars
and one of the best bass players ever....stoner
check out his superb lead bass on "marie n joe"
which is my fave track on the record
fluid lovely stuff
so hard to play a bass like a lead cos the strings are different
but listen to stoners melodic runs n trills just before
he collides with the guitar solo
the lyrics are richard kid stranges usual fare
alienation
drugs
love gone bad
all sung with his peculiar pronunciation
which somehow adds pathos to the songs
"and so it was we talked to the giants
the night air of summer turning cold on our skins"
"the boys in the backroom so cold and thoughtless
theyre insensitive, insufferable, insane"
gee i wish i'd written some of this stuff
when the church first appeared
the critics went on about the byrds and this n that
but there was more doctors of madness in what i did
than the byrds and all those other sixties groups
we looked like the sixties
but i was a seventies freak
and the doctors
be bop deluxe
cockney rebel
bowie
bolan
has always been my mojo
as much as i do love n revere bob n beatles n stones
to find my true sources
you must look amongst these records
a song like marie n joe off this record
probably spawned 10 of my own
not trying to imitate
but trying to re create this feeling
on my own terms
the swirling weird world of strange
his lugubrious pronunciation
the wild and brilliant violin of a chap named urban blitz
(warning: this may not have been his real name)
i love this stuff
gee its holding up well
marie n joe would be a great song in any day or age
real organic fucked up rock music
aaaah! those were the days......

day 2

we see our little project take wings n fly
how long has it taken axle-grease to finish
that guns n roses record....15 years?
well me n ricky justabout finish our backing tracks in 2 days
uh huh
and i aint heard axles but i just know ours is better
lindy morrison from the go-bes drops by
we get her to play tambo too
my my..is she besotted with our mr ricky?
fuck hes a good guitarists someone says
as el maymi slashes down a sizzling rhythm track
yeah ...hes a visual treat too... she says watching him rock
i play some piano ricky plays more drums
we write 3 newies right there on the spot
i'm fiddling round with a d chord
pumping the bass a little
i move the bass note down to f#
which turns the d into some other chord
although nothing has changed in the top half
the new bass note makes you feel like the ground
has dropped away
or something
i bang out a couple of tunes on the piano
it all comes dead easy
i dont even fucking have to try
( voice in other room:sounds like it !)
the first thing i play becomes the song
rickys drums give the song more shape
we add twelve str n electric guitar
the songs blossom n grow
fingers moving out into the world
in strange unforeseen directions
we give birth to these barest bones
and they mature n grow n bloom
they turn into themselves
ricky is an amazing bloke in studio
he tirelessly rocks n rolls
except fot the briefest naps n cig breaks
hes there first thing with bells on
and hes the last to leave still with bells on
he has a truly excellent chordal knowledge
and a wide knowledge of popular music
and the way its all put together
hes taken the time to separate the components
and he knows exactly what it takes to recreate any classic feel
on drums or guitar or percussion
he did some great percussion while i went home early
and some of it reminds me of "all things must pass"
bass playing was reserved for jonny z
who is THE best bassist in aust
double bassist that is
he comes in
and despite some shockingly sad personal news
he proceeded to knock our dicks in the dirt
with his superb and instant takes on each song
during the psychedelic number
his bow screams across the strings and moans all eldritch
he is truly truly truly amazing
no charts
no nothing
he instantly learns the songs
he starts playing its almost always the right thing
n thats why i aint playing bass on this
now jonny z has given it the swing
by the way
if you are interested in hearing austs bess bassplayer in action
can i recommend "the sea"
which is j z's solo album
its tres jazzy
its not rock
but gee whiz
its got that groovy thing
us rockers cant n dont do
www.myspace.com/jonathanzwartz
the day ended at 11 oclock after much weird weather
and fierce playing
hooray!

bondi jan 2009

working with ricky in studio out back of pavilion
pavilion on bondi beach
this big old fashioned colonial splodge
out the back is recording studios
an outside theatre
(how woofle n doodles love to play there)
the cafe spills out the back too
within an enclosed courtyard
you can sit at big tables under umbrellas in the shade
eat chips n drink orange juice n obtain caffeine
you can be attired in yer swimmers
you can be covered in sand
the kids can run about
the soft sea breezes
out the front
tourists
suntans
fast cars
sunburnt english n irish blokes
italian families looking cool
german families looking organized
australian families looking disorganized
loadsa brazilian looking types ie
lithe dark n slightly dangerous
loadsa jap tourists taking pics of everything
its a warm night
we go out side for dinner
we sit facing the sea
veggie burgers all round
except for nick whose engineering
who has fisch n chipps
we are joined by rpk n jlk
i discard my cucumber n fucking capsicum
the burger is pretty good
i tell some old unfunny jokes
no one laughs
scrub comedian off my resume then
we work hard in stude
ricky cracks the whip on me when i drift off
i am amazed to hear him say "no" to a joint
lessjusskeepworkin he says
we get in matt m from tower of song
on the piano
he doesnt have much time
but while hes there he does well
music is weird
you think you got it all figgered out
n then
little loopholes n gaps appear in yer knowledge of a song
you realise certain bits of it traverse a wilderness of uncertainty
and other bits are foggily realised
you stumble n you fall
you crumble n you stall
gotta work at it
ooh my fingers got real sore by nightfall
and i was sick of hearing my voices saying
now!
stop!
ok!
this is it!
f# minor!
i strummed n strummed n strummed
go outside under stars in quadrangle
i pause and i wonder
and walk home quietly
thru the sleeping suburb
next to the sea

assessment

ok
heres where we are right now
k/k is now only 2 songs away from being mixed
simone polinski is mixing it
and its an aural treat
youre gonna love it
it is the opposite of painkiller
gentle songs
spiritual songs
simple songs
songs for love and special occasions
songs for early mornings in bohemia
songs for old souls
and guess what
m kennedy sent me up k/k 2 yesterday
the beginnings
so there ya go......another one off in the distance...
the church
(remember them?)
will have new album and 2 new e.p.s out soon enough
available and coming atcha
soon soon soon
wait wait wait!
gb3 nears completion
i love this record
thats being mixed soonish
me n thee mr ricky plus others
are starting on a new thing today down at the pav
we've been jamming thru the nites n days
trying to get a feel for it.....
hopefully will inveigle special guests
top secret tho
hush hush
say no moor
meanwhile
im doing a painting of a friend
cant get it quite right
i have to write my desert island poems list
for an article
i will be going down to melbo shortly
to appear with the triffids at hamer hall 29th
you should see this show
its a hyper feel good tearjerker and it spans
the entire career of one of austs most unique writers
a cast of thousands......
i cant wait for it, personally
i'm listening to songs every day
so i dont get words wrong as per film n syd fest
sorry....nerves....i get my own words wrong all the time
but its unforgivable singing someone elses wrong
IT AINT GONNA HAPPEN AGAIN!
meanwhile i owe the taxman a fucken forchoon...gulp!
the move to melbo or anywhere is temp on hold
cos we cant afford it....!?
some dim lights appearing at ends of tunnels but....
these days i dont count my soy chicken triangles
until they thaw.....right?
thanks for your attention
thats all
please disperse quietly
the time being has already left the building



i

long division

deer people
i feel uninspired
i feel tired
i feel old
i feel achy
i feel stupid
i feel useless
i feel decisionless
i feel precisionless
i feel like misspelling words if i want to
the red lines of the spell checkah
infuriate me
i feel so nihilistic
i feel like giving up
i feel like swearing
i feel like chucking in the towel
hot muggy morning in n bondi
i struggle but get nothing done
i procrastinate about procrastinating
i see myself in the mirror n i wanna be someone else
someone young n anonymous
someone who doesnt feel everything
some one just drifting along pleasantly
someone not taking it all on
someone happy someone good
a weird itchy rash on my arm
i want to rip it to pieces
i hear things that frustrate me
i read things that bewilder me
i do things that never see fruition
i lose god in my heart
an empty chamber where he was once in residence
i stumble around oblivious
i turn up for stupid things
i avoid the real fight
i make myself promises promises
i dont get my tooth fixed
i dont get my gmail fixed
i dont read n respond to all the mail
i dont get my room cleaned up
i dont get more n more paintings painted
i plot greatness
i achieve little
let me hate myself for godssake
let me truly quantify my loathing
for my evil twin sk
hanging about and ruining things
as per fucking usual
yeah
imagine it
thinking your the bees knees
thinking your the pits
simultaneously
i'm painting a guy
can i get his nose right?
no!
i'm writing a song
can i get the words right?
no!
this exercise was sposed to pacify me
but its just geeing me up even more
ok
i'm gonna do some yoga instead n hit ye olde pool
blather blather
i see the idjit is back on the comms
a pale shadow of his former self
please continue to ignore
ok
now
carryon!

angel eyes

as some of you may already know
the first song that truly captivated me
and set me on the path to writing words
was
angel eyes
my favourite and definitive version is by frank sinatra
and its on
only the lonely
a collection of torch songs
orchestrated by the incredible nelson riddle
im not even sure who wrote it
but its from the forties i'd guess
at 4 years old this song made a big impression on me
such a beautiful song it has captivated me for 50 years now
and ive been singing it recently at a sunday afternoon gig
where i'm playing with some real jazz cats again
the clincher for me to do this humble gig
was that i could sing angel eyes
the players all groaned
angel eyes is a bit of a standard in their world
a bit like asking a rocker for smoke on the water
or something
nevertheless i was determined to do it
and i did
and i thoroughly enjoyed myself...
in becoming reacquainted with this most extraordinary song
i still continue to maintain my fascination for these wonderful lyrics
ANGEL EYES

HEY DRINK UP ALL OF YOU PEOPLE
N ORDER ANYTHING YOU SEE

this was in the days when songs had proper intros
a little way in that was totally different from the song itself
this is a perfect introduction
a setting of the scene
all;so a great line for a singer to sing in a bar or club

HAVE FUN YOU HAPPY PEOPLE
THE DRINK AND THE LAUGHS ON ME

as sinatra sings these lines
the music turns minor and sad
wow
talk about world weary
are the people even listening to him
is he addressing a whole room
or is he muttering this behind his eyes...?

and then the song proper starts
a downwards double bass slinks off
a real smoky bluesy niteclub atmosphere comes down
the instruments all suggest and imply things
stories of love and deceit and heartache

TRY TO THINK
THAT LOVE AINT AROUND
STILL ITS UNCOMFORTABLY NEAR
MY OLD HEART AINT GAINING ANY GROUND
BECAUSE MY ANGEL EYES AINT HERE

wow
try to think
a strange way to start a song
who should try to think
him?
or the crowd in the bar
or is it general advice to all of us
or what...
the song manages to be macro n micro at once
painting in broad strokes
and noticing subtle little details..
but there remains somehow
the lingering reminder of her
angel eyes
he still calls her angel eyes
but now that nickname carries a threat
a sadness
a most bitter irony
was she just there?
did she just leave?
do any of these grinning boozing types here know?
the feeling of her presence still disturbs him
thats why its uncomfortably near
you dont expect to find uncomfortable in a song
but her nearness is a pressure on him
that excited butterfly sick kick in the guts
he doesnt know how its gonna make him feel
his heart aint gaining any ground....
his old heart nonetheless
for more sympathy
for more pathos
his old broken heart
cos HIS angel eyes aint here
she aint his anymore obviously but
him still claiming that she is also carries a threat
as if he will never relinquish ownership until......

ANGEL EYES THAT OLD DEVIL SENT
THEY GLOW UNBEARABLY BRIGHT
NEED I SAY
MY LOVES MISSPENT
MISSPENT WITH ANGEL EYES TONIGHT

evil and jealousy walk on
the devil is an angel after all
who better to confuse mortal men
and inveigle them with gorgeous traps?
the old devil sending out his agents of misfortune
her supernaturally beautiful eyes
oh who has not seen people like that?
now the lustre is unbearable to him
another strange word...unbearable
can you imagine a beauty so strange and alien
that it was almost impossible to gaze upon?
especially when those eyes had turned cold and vacant
especially when those eyes regarded you like a stranger..
and for christs sake
he realises now
his love has been misspent
and thats another weird word in a song
misspent
like a bad purchase
or after the act of love
when a man is said to be spent
its so obvious
is there any need to even say it?

now he feels cynical about her
but he cant help wanting her even more
for all her black magical help and callous disregard
he still loves her
it feels it may have not been the first time
that shes done him wrong

then
the song returns to the introduction
sinatra still urging those friends and patrons
go on get drunk
have a good fucking laugh
you happy people
oblivious fools
he doesnt care anymore
do whatever you like
then the third n final verse

PARDON ME BUT I GOTTA RUN
THE FACTS UNCOMMONLY CLEAR
I GOTTA FIND WHOS NOW THE NUMBER ONE
AND WHY MY ANGEL EYES
AINT HERE


hes outta here
in everyway
anyone can see hes been duped
they probably already knew she wasnt gonna show
hes after the after the new number one
whos slid up thru the ranks
of the men who jostle for her favour(s)
sinatras slipping out the love charts
i wonder what he intends to do about his rival
when he catches up with them...?
anyway as one last attempt at dignity
and harking back to the black magic
the music changes key for the final line
SCUSE ME
WHILE I DISAPPEAR.....!

perfect!

the phoenician night

the phoenician night
black as nothingness
i am a cruel man
i am a proud merchant
i am a powerful old bastard
i order my slaves to play music
i eat and drink splendidly
i clap my hands and women appear
i clap them again and they go away
in tyrus is a garden
where i go and smoke lebanese hash
and opium from persia
garden of earthly delights
i bathe in its pools
i lie in the shade of its cedars
i dream in the fleeting shadows of the afternoon
in tyrus i have meetings with people
murderers
courtesans
sailors
magicians
down in the walled harbour
down in the old part of town
with my silver
with my knife
with my man who watches out for me
with my explicit instructions
with my plaited hair and forked beard
wait in the darkness
listening to the sea
listening to the seabirds
listening to the wind
blowing through the phoenician night
and on
into africa

satyr day

kilbey this
kilbey that
get me another kilbey......
my kilbeys been tampered with...
kilbey said what?
boom boom boom
the boom has burst
live long the new boom
let it bloom again
let the flowers be strewn
dionysus rides in
on a milk white ass
ectstatic rites
the revellers come
the mysteries
as night falls down on us
hot and surrounding
i surrender to drink
yes i lose my head
yes i cant believe the things that we do
the moon so soon
grecian night full of gods
bass guitar pounds in my nerves
i separate and cool off
i evaporate from skin
in the black and harshness
weaving and dealing
giddy lidded middle man
lurching from one thing to the next
hammer on hammer off
a lyre is blearily plucked
someone laughs nearby
in the distance there is a scream
in the sacred groves
the slave girl from thrace....
is she too an initiate?
lover and handmaiden
to the handsome god of wine
under a spell of love
under a sky of stars
i no longer kilbey
voices whisper in the night
i sit stroking a lion
i eat a peach
i under the trees
i mingle freely with unhumans
i move like an arrow in a glade
i disappear into your flesh with a grunt
i follow the white light out of my skull
i die
i remain
i die
i remain
i strip down to my mansuit
i entertain momentous thought
i collect myself again
i appear before you at your prayers
supplicating before krishna
petitioning lady maria venus
i wake up in some future morning bewildered
look in the mirror
some new stranger
his eyes black n huge
his look wild n dissolute

flame in amazement

no daddy no
miranda screams at her father
who kicks at the grovelling monster at his feet
no daddy stop now daddy
she interposes herself and begs her father to stop
her father gives the sobbing thing one last hefty boot in its guts
before he staggers back exhausted
shaking with indignation
you fucking .......MONSTER!! he shouts at the monster
the monster begins to talk
its speech is racked with sobs and shivers
its voice is deep and sad
why master why? it manages to burble out
ssssh! monster sssshhhh caliban ! says miranda
dont you touch that thing ! thunders prospero
the monster snorts and hisses
what? demands prospero
you dare put your paws to my childe?
his grey eyes filled with clarified anger
what is this?
the monster seems undecided
whether to attack or supplicate
prospero seeing this says
bring it on, sunshine
suddenly the monster leaps up at him
miranda : no no no no
the monster and prospero grapple awkwardly
the monster leans in and tries to maul prosperos neck
he scratches the magicians arms with his claws
the monster laughs and cries at it attacks
saying the word master over n over n over again
master master master master it gurgles obsessively
something we cant see is hurting it
sometime in the future
crowley will say
there is no devil
sometime in the future
engelbert humperdinck will sing
please release me, let me go
sometime in the future
iggy says
now i wanna be your dog
well, cmon....!
marc bolan now playing an arkadian youth :
walking in the woods one day
i met a man who says that he was magic.....(MAGIC!)
david bowie playing a bystander says
smack baby smack is a all that ya feel
caliban whimpers
i used to be the son of the morning star
prospero bleeding and triumphant
stands with his foot on the defeated beast
is this the taste of victory ? he muses
elvis as part of a greek chorus intones
caught in a trap cant walk out
in texas/ilium
jim bowie says to davy crockett
as they look over the walls of troy alamo :
well davy i sure fuckin' hope you like quesadillas , compadre...
jim morrison and pam in the desert
he says
i feel like a monkey thats been crucified in space....
in alexandria
tony says to cleo
give me the same deal you gave big julie....
in paris hank miller says
hey anais...my ribbons jammed....
meanwhile
ariel the aery sprite
shoots across the sky
in a golden arc
a virtual rainbow vapour trail
a spirit torch
exploding over the pacific ocean
in north bondi
a shower of silver stars

go prospero

there is an avalanche
all the books are opened
all the words coming off the page
the spells unloosed
" it is the raising of the complete man in a vertical straight line
any other operation is black magic"




prospero solemnly intones:
in the poisoned robes of Form
i have wandered this island
performed works of divination
commanding live spirit from dead matter
i freed monsters from trees
i pulled seraphs from thin air
i make the birds sing my songs
i make the flowers grow in gods name
i cause the moon to appear in my glass
i scry for angels in the dark summer afternoons
i imbibe the drink of the cactus
it sure tastes strangely sweet as it goes down inside
the cactus sends a spirit to meet me
a spirit in my chambers
mescalito all in green-o
mescalito moving and changing
mescalito with the dry laugh
he holds out his hand to shake
prospero pulls back his hand covered in tiny spines
more dry laughter
the spines are gone
prosperos small tanned hands healed
look at your hands!
now bleeding stigmata
crimson gore in my palms
hole right thru my hands
o mescalito
i'll give you one-o
green grows old san pedro sings mescalito
am i the fucking nazz? wails prospero
dont nail me up you bastards sings mescalito
oooh thats gotta hurt! says a voice in the future
bang bang bang go the romans
oh fuck oh god whimpers jesus/ prospero /shakespeare
why cant i feel it ? sings mescalito
is it just a lie?
jim morrison goes wand'rin' round his neighbourhood
liberating cacti in mescalitos name
jesus awoke before dawn
intones prospero dressed in black
he leans into the microphone
as the organ swirls in rococo arabesques behind him
then an interruption
father?
yes, miranda?
father....i want to......
yes .....what is it, my childe...?
father....i want to....leave ....all this...
the audience suck in their breath
voice from another room : what about jesus...?
mescalito grooves to abraxas
i feel just like jesus son he sings
meanwhile in jerusalem, cal
they bang up olde jimbo on a cross
and hes screaming n writhing in his leather
no no no hes singing
bowie playing judas in the crowd says
you couldnt believe you were in this song
marc bolan playing lazarus says
i danced myself out of the tomb
prospero suddenly comes back to his chambers
its late afternoon
on his island in the mediterranean sea
this man has studied nature
and moves in its grooves obtaining results
that seem miraculous to you common era men
prospero looks around for mescalito
but cactus man has gone from this plane
ariel the spirit arrives
why hast thou not delivered that which thou hast promised?
prospero spins round angrily
how dare you speak that way to your lord?
ha! the sprite whirls flaming in the air
even prospero only catches glimpses of her
as she really is
a pale lithe naked winged creature
emitting light and dazzling flashes
why hast thou not delivered that which thou hast promised?
prospero
the magician
a performer
high wire days
long way down
summon houdini
summon anubis
summon yourself
prospero breathes in deep
ok ariel he says
theres just one more thing i want you to do....

choreography

suddenly today i wake up changed
i crawl out of my car apace
i wash all these songs from my hands
i labour away at the notes that cling
i lift flute phrases away with tweezers
i am a man
everything is s'posed to be all laid on for me
i walk outside and survey my kingdom
my sword is dressed to the hilt
i cut all attachments
my tongue is on a roll
my hands finger each other
my calves wander never lost
my eyes that hear visions
my mighty heart that pounds in its cage
my hardness that reinforces each delicacy
my whispering thoughts that think themselves
god i'm good
good god, i'm......
i'm good, god
good, i'm god
see
i sift thru it all so you dont have to
my mind is awake
on darkest nights
computing our position
aligning our strange stars
documenting limbos chaos
apprehending crimes henchwomen
pressing the pills of muchlove
i got a dozen buckets of pseud
i got customers stretching around the blogk
i got people ringing me up from antares
saying
"i just bumped into mick, he tells me you know where to score"
i'm into everything
but at the right moment
i'm right back out again
nothings gonna change my world
still i expect no small reward
i'm the kinda person that takes everything you had
and says well whats for dessert?
nothing can keep up
because i move at the speed of melancholy
(einstein computed this to be $49.95)
i dream what others take as reality
for lucifers sake there is no other
now i'm old
i'm a proper sage n everything
dressed in saffron garb age 54
i dispense my advice
arizona take off yer indian shoes
indiana wants me lord i cant go back there
the lights all went out in massachusetts
nothing would be finer than to be in carolina
oh oh alabama can i see you and shake your hand?
texas thats where i wanna be down in texas
californian wine tastes fine
staring down a forty five in west virginny
in the cold kentucky rain
kentucky woman she gets to know ya
she gets to show ya.....
in the meanest time
in n.bondi it is overcaste
my skin develops an allergy to itself
i swim n i sauna n i chat to the locals
the old diggers playing gin rummy
the iron man ivans n the muscle marys
the tourists who wander in our fair boroughs
the weirdos n dispossessed n repossessed
i plough up n down my lane
cursing the johnny come latelys
who dont have the balls to swim in winter
(isnt there a joke in there somewhere)
i swim swim swim swimmy swimmy swim
i listen to my breath bubble in n out
my breath starts to lock into a pattern
my limbs still heavy from xmas xcess
my brain thinks over old times
i overtake n am overtaken
somedays i glide through turquoise heavens
somedays i fight through a saline grey sludge
sometimes i am alone in a lonely pool
othertimes the swimmers jostle n derail
i sit in the sauna watching the surfers weaving dissolving patterns
i walk home pumped up on endorphins...
its a hard fix to get
but its worth the trubble...
colour of the day
blue coming out of grey
sound of the age
a dead lark in a cage
film i'd go n see
a film of tears n a cuppa tea
i am yet to conker the world of ballet
stay untuned
steve xxx

pastoral romp

presently our company rounded the great green hills
that divided ante-lebanon from olde saxony
david and bathsheba dismounted immediately
their dwarf running hither and, yes, thither
all dressed in his yellow livery
and pouring red wine from a big green bottle
marked danger
the clearing had been decked out in gay abandon
standards and flags fluttered in the sweetest breezes
tony and cleo showed up bearing gifts and raving
about a new theatre in alexandria
my young ocelot delighted to be let free and
it greeted each guest with a painful nip if they bore no gifts
my twin sister kathy was there looking radiant
at a distance
she twirled away through the trees
dancing with the handsomest brutes one can well imagine
the band played on
their violins woke the crooning nightingales who sang backups
david neil, yes, david neil stepped out of the lengthening shadows
he smiled to see me standing there
striding through the glade in his thunderbolt suit
white lightning? he spoke like a ghost
welcome david you are welcome here...i said shaking his hand
davids already drunk on the night
he plucks another drink off a waiter dressed as some dopey eros
whats this ?he demands of the waiter
dopey eros says
why sir
that drink is called drink
and it contains
one shot of writhing n blues
one shot of triple sec
one shot to the head
one ounce of raspberry pulp
one shot of belladonna
one shot of deadmans tears
one shot of nepenthe......
oh! said david neil interrupting him...nepenthe....
go on david
sing nepenthe i said
go on! yelled out somebody else
yes david sing us nepenthe they all shouted out
david took up his 12 string guitar
and he pulled that david neil face
that one where he stares off into the future
and he sings to you of wreck n ruin
and his early demise and his late appointments
and with indecision within decision
you wanna hear nepenthe? he whispers to us
yeah! we all answer back a unified beast
ok ....he grins
and re tunes his guitar for a while
i'm sure youve all heard nepenthe by now
davids last big hit
before he....
but that still perhaps remains in the future
where it belongs with all other trouble
tonight we are at this pastoral romp
and lo and behold
david neil himself will sing his most achingly beautiful song
the one where the music sounds all babylonian
like it had skimmed in ninevehs hit parade
david fucking neil, man
will you look at that cat go
he plays that sad long weird phrase on his guitar
all chordal flourishes with slight dissonant implication
he begins to sing:

down by the ocean
down by the shores
shifting sands
octopus woman
holds 8 drinks
in her 8 hands

in one hand i hold water
in one hand hand i hold wine
in one hand i hold yours my love
and another i hold thine
and in the fifth is honeyed ale
and in the sixth is coke
the seventh is a mystery
but the eighth
ah the eighth
it s my own little joke

nepenthe
oh welcome forgetfulness
forget forget forget....yourself...


the mob howled their applause
flowers fell from some lovely scented place
the peoples spirits bucked up and happiness was truly abroad
well done, david neil!
david shrugs: aw its just a songy song ...its nothing really..
a kind of mist comes down
everything travels within its aureole
mescalito pops in and remembers us to a friend
david n i step outside the forest for a moment
i take the melting mirror
he takes the door in the tree
we meet up outside the exit sign
which flashes dimly within the clinging mist
david pulls out a joint
he lights it up
so how you really doing, man ? he asks
yeah fine jus' fine ...i say
are you sure? he says offering me a smoke
nah ...i say ambiguously
david shrugs
yeah he says eventually
it really is time you went straight

not what you think

none of it
oh childe
its so much stranger than fiction
which poet could ever dream this up
every level has another level
when i do this or that
i do it on a symbolic level
on a real and surreal and hyper real level
on a physical level
on a level of another million glorious implications
on a sexual level
on a suggestive level
on a mythical level
on a prehistoric level
on an astral level
on a causal level
on sea level
on sensuous level
on an evil level
on a moral level
on a financial level
on a macro level
on a microscopic level
on a humourous level
on a magical level
on a spiritual level
on a poetic level
fill in your favourite level here
you olde devil
you olde white devil....
the levels are truly infinite
you can move in any direction you like
if you have the validity of any moves
i mean a fucking pawn cant just jump in any direction
a pawn is a pawn in the game baby
being pushed straight along by fate or duty
or whatever unseen fingers urging it along
but pawns always contain the incredible ability
to become anything they damn well want
if they can only get there
but there is where all the magic is
you could wander this earth and
never bump into a single magickal thing
or you could live in an age of miracles
and be surrounded in it
and move in the light
and remain in the light
of course
you know i'm gonna say
ha ha baby
this is not that age
and indeed it is not
but still there must be clues
if youre ready to look
if you keep your mind open
and youre ready to fly right out
if youre skull cant contain you
use the old ways
yoga is waiting to help you
the plants are waiting to help you
breath is waiting to help you
your past lives
stacked in every conceivable direction
are waiting to help you
you wouldnt even have to break the law
but jesus they make it hard for you
why do our modern authorities attempt to cage us?
for our own good........sorry....it cant be that
theyd happily get us killed in much stupider ways
than leaving us alone to explore our nature
our nature as much as theirs
but we have to accept the fact
that "the authorities" are stupid and scared
and have done a right royal job of fucking things up
for all of us
and why would they be likely to stop anytime soon?
they put me thru school
and tried to turn me into
a person with all his filters turned on
so all i saw was reading
writing
arithmetic
that little british voice
came on the school radio
trying to keep us in some victorian nightmare
of tally ho the empire
and cricketing stories for boys
and how we gave gerry what for
and good old captain cook
and mr thompkins gave us six of the best
but i kept on believing
hanging off aslans every word
i wanted to get into narnia, you see
cos some people out here were ruining my trip
marc bolan made it all seem so easy
days of love are always in a dream you know...he sang
it seemed to make sense
but youre battling the sheer brute force of education
my headmaster says study study study
i couldnae study
my mind wouldnt couldnt co operate with that malarkey
i was brainwashed by the fools
they didnt know what they did
just like the useless pricks who banged jesus up
or little steven who burned down the park
everybody rushing into mistakes
all of us programmed to self destruct
how can we deny everything else
to concentrate on this one channel
that they let us watch?
i'm drowning in their second hand ideas
they dont know the whole picture
and they wouldnt let us have it if they did
im talking about the kinda thinking
that keeps kennedys assassination under wraps
until we all dead
kinda thinking starts wars n bumps off marilyn monroe
yeah you know
that current paradigm
should mix in a little indian
should mix in a little lemurian
should mix in a little alien
should mix in a little triple sec
should be able to do whatever you like
as long as....etc etc etc
anyway the best fun is still and will always be free
somethings under our noses everywhere
its so funny this must be earth
isnt that just like home?
anyway
poets get paid to explore these things
what can i say?
the universe remains ineffable
even me
and i cut deep
and we all go along way back
and everything you know is wrong is also right
thats not what you wanted to hear
its not what i wanted to write
but then again i'm justa stupid pawn
(but i dont dig no prawn)

the real lemuria

these words have i been bid to declare
as i struggle with this language
so long it has taken me


i am a nameless magician
i travel throughout and within
i move in tomorrow
some call me helio-ixx
some call me drink
i come when i am called
i have been called
by preparation
by austerities
by dint of will
by saint peter
summoned here here here
let me then tell you of lemuria
i was there yesterday only yesterday only only only
oh lemuria a magickal land
hidden
only i
only i
with the keys to some kingdom
saint peter has called me
san pedro maybe he is really called
but my language is pre spanish
buy a million miles
lemuria
everything is possible
brigadoon in south america
i jump from place to place
i am something between monkey and jaguar
i move through smooth space
like an arrow
i bring it all together
i fall in the future
the power is mine to take
i am here now
as you are my witness
lemuria
does that name ring a bell
ding dong ding dang dong
i am here
i live on sweet milk and fruit
i move through treetops
with my female consort
whom i ravish throughout the ages
i am inside the trees
inside inside inside
in the most inside
i am further inside
of the most outside
i am further outside
power flows through me
i am almost nothing
i am emptiness
i pure alert
i harness night
i surprise myself, saint peter
to find i am the real deal
real deal
deal real
i deal out the deadmans hand
given under my hand
given under the law
magic magic magic
visions
the choking jungle
the lovely jungle
the flowers
the birds
i meet mescalito
i am a mayan
i am among my friends
here i am at home in the real lemuria
imagine if it was no joke
the truth
this thing is so huge
and no one has a handle on it
mescalito fucking hugged me man
and said welcome i been waiting for you
this is all yours
you have come home
home to lemuria
and your jungle
abra cadabra

the interventionist gods

zeus the thunderer was no longer listening
his daughter was berating him
whining at him
sulking with him
odysseus this
odysseus that
he had smiled when he heard calypsos name mentioned
ah calypso .....
he sank into a reverie
he had known calypso well
he would rumble out of the sky over her island
her island which was a just a point in a blue sea
her island of enchantments
he stroked his beard and gazed into the distance
he felt his potency rise
he licked his unbelievably handsome lips
while athene complained and irked
zeus stopped time
with memories more vivid than the reality of men
he revisited calypso
her aisles of delights
her potions that had caused the love increased
her skillful hands that flew and hovered
the willows alders and cypresses
her ambrosia
her nights like nectar
but that was all long ago
long long long ago
on that last time
as he was leaving
calypso said
i guess i'll see you round....
yeah.....zeus said
they both had known it was over
back in olympus
athene shakes his arm
youre not even listening to me are you?
zeus breaks off his reverie
how dare you talk to me like that?
athene glares at her father
odysseus....
zeus interrupts her
poseidon is furious with this character...!
athene starts listing out all odysseus' woes
OK OK OK thunders zeus
odysseus ....why should he care....yet...
what is it to you that he should do this or that? he asks
athene is a very cool goddess i mean shes very wise
but this question hurts her
because even though she is wise and clever
she is also very vain and very jealous and very bitter
we know this because she competed for that damned stupid apple
bloody apples
eris as the snake
offers eve the golden apple
from the tree of life
and on it is written
kallisti
to the most beautiful
and
discordia as snow whites evil stepmother
twice removed as a crone
says
here my dearie
take this lovely golden apple
from an old woman
and she cackles
as snow white flicks her black bangs back
and goggles the inscription
to the most beautiful
and loki
disguised as kilbey as a boy
offers miss mountjoy his teacher
a golden delicious
and as she takes it
she sees a small sticker that says
to the most beautiful
and so you see
athene had righteously thought
that that apple belonged to her
she wasnt just wise
she was beautiful as well, for titans sake
couldnt a goddess be wise and pretty?
did one negate the other?
in hera...yes!
neither wise nor pretty...
in aphrodite...yes!
the original dumb blonde thought athene
but athene had it all....she thought
but ever since aphrodite got that fucking apple
she was feeling....undesired....
and...
the truth was
she was in love with odysseus
she was wise enough to not get involved with a mortal
but she still couldnt help herself
fixing things from a distance
opening some doors
pulling some strings
some times they saw each other face to face
she was an awesome lady to be sure
but odysseus had never thought of athene in that way
she was like a powerful austere aunt
how sad she would have been
to know he thought of her in this way
how surprised he would have been
to have known his protectress
harboured lustful feelings for his mortal hide
angrily athene guessed that aphrodite was behind all this
her little bastard son with the bow and the arrows
love like life
life like love
idiot love will cause confusion
athene stamped her divine foot
daddy, cant you just do this one thing for me, please?
zeus acquiesced
hermes! he shouted
hermes strolls in
a well toned young cat
pretty much naked
except for a wispy loin cloth
a golden helmet with wings that bark
and golden winged eel fingerling sandals
hermes delivers messages for his boss
zeus says
hermes...go n sort this out for me, old son
hermes says
whats the trouble, squire?
zeus says
nip down n pay a visit to calypso n tell 'er
to bloody well let that odysseus go or else
hermes says
no problemo,boss...and what if she dont want to?
zeus says
you know what to do
hermes says
consider it done!
now right now
as you sit and read these words
hermes is skipping cross the water like a stone
hes sprinting over the vast seas
all the way down from snowy olympus' mists
now he shoots over the tropical ocean
wherein lies the nymphs isle
if you were in a boat on that sea
you would see a golden young god
flash across the backs of the waves
rushing headlong
to where odysseus sits
watching the horizon

more ionian blues

meanwhile
in 1250 BC
odysseus still sitting on that lovely little beach
on his way home
everything he's been through
the men hes killed
the cities he has laid waste
the women he has had
the riches he acquires and loses
the miles he has travelled
always struggling and struggling
always plagued by fate
undone in triumph
hated by the sea god poseidon
loved by wisdom herself, athene
odysseus trying to get back home
empty handed
scarred and tired
hes met his match
calyspo the witch
calypso the demi-goddess
calypso the nymph, oh!
calypso on her isle of marvels
odysseus wanting wanting wanting his home
and all that it contains
(somewhere in 1965
10 year old s kilbey says
yet you spent 7 years on that island.....!?.. )
can you modern readers imagine
odysseus our hero
lost in the sea
comes to this isle
half drowned
battered driven by the wind and waves
a remote place
as he lays on the shore
coughing out the sea
convulsing and shivering
too enfeebled to move
in a cold fever
so much driftwood
someone finds him
takes him in
revives him
fortunately
unfortunately
that someone
is the ageless immortal calypso
a lovely creature indeed
long and lithe in her viridian gown
enchantress
neither good nor evil
the 2 regard each other
odysseus sitting up in her bed convalescing
calypso feeding him delicate morsels
massaging his knotted back with her healing hands
her maids bathe odysseus and giggle
men of his calibre dont wash up that often
not like odysseus
what it is it about him ? she wonders to herself
odysseus is glad to be alive
he is grateful for her hospitality
but he is wary
remember he thinks to himself
circe
another witch
yes odysseus had tangled with circe
turning his men into swine
she had stripped him naked and commanded him to ravish her
she said
come with me to my bed
so that in making love
we may learn to trust one another...
odysseus said
circe
you order me to be gentle with you
you who turned my men into pigs
in your own house.....!
but they had been lovers
and she willingly restored his men
and it had been hard for odysseus
to leave her island
and now.....
almost 13 years since he set out for troy
odysseus finds himself becalmed for 7 years
how did they spend the days?
wandering the island
calypso taught him of its flowers
the names of its birds
they saw dawn rise in the skies
they dipped in the sea
they walked in the sun
and they loved in the black fragrant nights
imagine them in her cave
tireless and ardent
the witch
with her love and magic
the man
with his long agonizing journey and his cunning
imagine the things they said to each other
imagine the things that they kept from each other
imagine odysseus' heart torn in 2
how did the time drag or glide for him?
what could 7 years mean to an eternal creature?
yet
calypso
offered odysseus immortality
he would still be alive today
yet
but
he needed to get home
he had to get home
for the sake of the story
for the sake of destiny
for fates own reasons
eventually athene
pleads with her father zeus
please daddy
tell that fucking nymph to let my odysseus go...

2009

2009
uncurls out of the future
it appears as if out of nowhere
but it was laying deep in time waiting to arrive
it was waiting by the pool in sunglasses
it was driving a lotus elan
it was in a suitcase in the garage
it was whispered by the weird wind
it was telegraphed down black lines
it was thrown in a frozen river
it was left beside a bleak railway track
it was heard in a disused theatre in the warehouse district
it was bludgeoned with worn out nights
it was accosted by the swollen moon
it was found drowned in the ground
it was mixed in with triple sec and raspberry juice
it was seen leaving town in a mirage
it was falling out of heaven tumbling
it was crowley it was bonaparte it was iscariot
it was raining that night
it was unlikely
it had to happen
it was a thorough disgrace
it was unavoidable
it was there all along but you couldnt see it
it went down on the past
it violated the holiest night
it subtracted its cut
it divided the people
it multiplied n it multiplied
it
it
it
its here
its knocking at the door
its come in while you were having a shower
it watches you now stroking itself
it admires you from a distance
it suddenly zooms in closer closer
it collides with you
it upsets the applecart
it barks and it bites
it reads over yer shoulder
it touches you everywhere
it comes into contact
it surrounds you
it dwarfs you
it dominates you
it enfolds you gently in summer
it grips you in winter
it bangs on non non
it never leaves its name
never
no never
2009
yeah thats just fine
if not divine
then itll
have to be
fine