sunday morning coming down
down the spiral staircase of past days
all the ones i lived n never lived
glimpses and flashes disrupt my continuity
sometimes i disturb magnetic fields
clocks stop and small babies giggle
i smoke dope to tune it all in n block it all out
because all this raw data is too much for me
then
shiva asks his consort
darling with your liquid eyes of love
what is the nature of your reality ?
his radiant and divine wife
answers him in a number of sutras
each a sublime tiny poem of transcendence
she says things like
on a black n rainy night become one with the rain
and i understand immediately
because that i have done my whole holed holy life
on the loneliest of nights when i could not find a friend
was i such a monster.....?
this morning i get a message from a very old friend of mine
just reading his name takes me back to these olden days
he was 19 n i was 18
it seemed that we 2 and only we 2
were the absolute authorities on music n fashion n stuff
although i dyed my hair ponced around n wore a bitter makeup
cmon this was 1972/73 for godsake
i was fiercely heterosexual
i mean i never ever had one tiny second of doubt
n i never had one tiny physical encounter neither
no matter what i was into women ha ha ha
not so my friend who was more" confused"
from things i gathered in his letter today
he was kinda overfond of me
this kinda clouded our relationship a bit
because i really liked my friend
because he knew so much about music n records n production
he had an amazing record collection
all pristine in their plastic covers
but this "confusion" eventually meant we didnt hang out
which was a shame
because in canberra one didnt meet a lotta like minded individuals
my friend had a lotta talent n ability too
but sadly he had no confidence
me...i hadda loada confidence
as i said before
i didnt think i was THAT great
but looking round at the competition....
yet
i still marvel at the mediocre ninnies doing well
i see the great undiscovered cloud of potentials
i take drugs to keep em all out
i study ancient arcane texts to escape from myself
a pair of parrots land on a wire
hes vivid red
she is fluorescent green
radha and krishna deep in the forest
india india india
the upanishadis
the vedas
the gita
their science of devotion
krishna stops time with his kiss
indra sends his daughter to earth to learn our mortal woes
lord shiva with the ganges in his hair
i am a thousand men who passed this way n left no trace
i took opium to block them all out
the subcontinent is on/in my deepest mind
the heavenly birds talk in sanskrit like songs
sunday morning in the pacific ocean
saturday night i walk thru lamplit darkened streets
with my 3 daughters and their friend
they talk out loud of their dreams
i had previously thought their friend a little world weary
but now she waxed rhapsodic on her marvellous series of dreams
"a stable full of horses made of pink diamonds " she gasps
the 3 daughters listen wide eyed n attentive
as i march em thru the cool back streets of bondi for exercise
i see parties and people drinking outside pubs
cars n taxis pull up n discharge passengers
it is saturday night in sydney after all
but i just march em all thru the streets
silently keeping up the pace
bondi looks lovely on a full moon summers night
there is a sacred feeling in the air
tho not many seem to pick up on it
now the morning has come n almost gone
hot n humid
i already had a sno-cone
one of my fillings has fallen out
yes i bit down hard on life
and life felt like chewing aluminium on your fillings
and life was a snakes and ladders set up
and life was extremely sweet n extremely sour
etc
meanwhile
i'll stop
have a little rest
re-set
n
continue
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Saturday, January 30, 2010
rebounder
sit in my room of rooms
unbelievable mess
surely only days away from over hall
books n cds pile up
a squalid mass of old wrappers
hot sultry afternoon
have swum n done one yoga
have eaten 2 bowls of muesli
have drunk a soy cappo
people coming over
people just left
my finger types types types
an extraordinary life
anxieties manifesting
creativity surging
getting it done but getting further behind
further n further behind
taking it all in like a blue whale
straining out the krills and the thrills
talking bout music
talking bout life
talking bout the way things are down here
summer undisputed indisputable king
angry clouds
angry sun
wind whips up
its saturday
what does that mean to a man like me...?
i dunno
you tell me
unbelievable mess
surely only days away from over hall
books n cds pile up
a squalid mass of old wrappers
hot sultry afternoon
have swum n done one yoga
have eaten 2 bowls of muesli
have drunk a soy cappo
people coming over
people just left
my finger types types types
an extraordinary life
anxieties manifesting
creativity surging
getting it done but getting further behind
further n further behind
taking it all in like a blue whale
straining out the krills and the thrills
talking bout music
talking bout life
talking bout the way things are down here
summer undisputed indisputable king
angry clouds
angry sun
wind whips up
its saturday
what does that mean to a man like me...?
i dunno
you tell me
Friday, January 29, 2010
list of works
the church
of skins and heart *****
too fast for you ******
the blurred crusade ********
sing songs ******
seance ******
remote luxury *****
hindsight *****
heyday ********
starfish *******
gold afternoon fix *****
quick smoke at spots *****
priest = aura *********
sometime/anywhere ******
somewhere else ******
magician among the spirits ******
hologram of baal *******
box of birds *****
after everything now this *******
parallel universe *****
forget yourself *******
uninvited like the clouds ******
beside yourself ******
back with 2 beasts ********
el momento descuidado ********
el momento siguente ******
jammed *****
untitled 23 ********
coffee hounds *******
shriek ******
solo
unearthed *******
earthed ****
slow crack + *******
remindlessness *******
narcosis + ********
acoustic + intimate ****
dabble ******
freaky conclusions ******
painkiller ********
hex *******
hex vast haloes ******
jack frost ********
jack frost snow job ******
isidore ********
kilbey /kennedy
unseen music unheard words ********
steve n russell kilbey
gilt trip ********
gilt trip egyptian register ******
refomation *******
mimesis ********
of skins and heart *****
too fast for you ******
the blurred crusade ********
sing songs ******
seance ******
remote luxury *****
hindsight *****
heyday ********
starfish *******
gold afternoon fix *****
quick smoke at spots *****
priest = aura *********
sometime/anywhere ******
somewhere else ******
magician among the spirits ******
hologram of baal *******
box of birds *****
after everything now this *******
parallel universe *****
forget yourself *******
uninvited like the clouds ******
beside yourself ******
back with 2 beasts ********
el momento descuidado ********
el momento siguente ******
jammed *****
untitled 23 ********
coffee hounds *******
shriek ******
solo
unearthed *******
earthed ****
slow crack + *******
remindlessness *******
narcosis + ********
acoustic + intimate ****
dabble ******
freaky conclusions ******
painkiller ********
hex *******
hex vast haloes ******
jack frost ********
jack frost snow job ******
isidore ********
kilbey /kennedy
unseen music unheard words ********
steve n russell kilbey
gilt trip ********
gilt trip egyptian register ******
refomation *******
mimesis ********
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
+s and -s
vincent van go go was in the sauna today
the red painted orange hair
the anxious look
penetrating eyes
trying hard not to sneak a peak
sink into green
green grow the rushes oh
marine green
the sea what does it care
the old swimmermen playing cards
brown in the whitish gloom of the seacloud
toasted muesli with berries
an architects german wife waves to me
an article in paper about these special padded undies
to make womens bums look bigger
selling like hot (bum) cakes apparently
not to be used as a flotation device apparently
can male undies with built in package be far off
i go into bank n talk to a guy about my bank account
hes got an accent but i couldnt pick it
hes quite a nice guy actually
i walked out n paid my exorbitant rent at the p.o.
ooh my bar code is coming loose
i go out n buy a bubble tea
i go home n work on notes for boxset
relistening to my old solo back catalogue
some good n bad in there
talking about including some unreleased stuff with it
from pre-formation n artyfacts boots
gee theres some interesting stuff in there
some of its already up on youtube
you can hear some of it there
yeah my solo career ha ha ha
a seriously badly handled affair
nonetheless
this boxset will make it all available
trying to make the deadline for the notes
trying to get everything done but losing the battle
my friend mich drops over n we go swimming with doodles
the water is warm n green green green
i see bream swimming around in there
i do my 2 yoga sessions
i apply myself diligently
i begin to occasionally transcend n oscillate
my bones feel pleasantly rubbery
i may be old but dont have to feel old
tonite still have to do my 3 month tax doo dah
the kids fight n carry on a bit
i drop mich off in paddington
in a busy street where traffic is building up
mich gets out
and the doodles fight each other to get into the front seat
as one tries to climb in from the back
the other is hitting at her n holding her back
both are appealing to me
DAD I CALLED IT FIRST!
eventually aurora beats down eve n climbs in the seat
talk about oblivious doodles...jesus
i will be co-judging a vegan bake off in feb in newtown
will be playing in lyneham canberra
at a gig that used to be the post office
now its all tree-ey and soy lattes and metrosexuals
no longer the sombre stomping ground of my old bullies
gee how nostalgic will i be....?
anyway
thats it for now
please subscribe generously (if you can)
love
sk
the red painted orange hair
the anxious look
penetrating eyes
trying hard not to sneak a peak
sink into green
green grow the rushes oh
marine green
the sea what does it care
the old swimmermen playing cards
brown in the whitish gloom of the seacloud
toasted muesli with berries
an architects german wife waves to me
an article in paper about these special padded undies
to make womens bums look bigger
selling like hot (bum) cakes apparently
not to be used as a flotation device apparently
can male undies with built in package be far off
i go into bank n talk to a guy about my bank account
hes got an accent but i couldnt pick it
hes quite a nice guy actually
i walked out n paid my exorbitant rent at the p.o.
ooh my bar code is coming loose
i go out n buy a bubble tea
i go home n work on notes for boxset
relistening to my old solo back catalogue
some good n bad in there
talking about including some unreleased stuff with it
from pre-formation n artyfacts boots
gee theres some interesting stuff in there
some of its already up on youtube
you can hear some of it there
yeah my solo career ha ha ha
a seriously badly handled affair
nonetheless
this boxset will make it all available
trying to make the deadline for the notes
trying to get everything done but losing the battle
my friend mich drops over n we go swimming with doodles
the water is warm n green green green
i see bream swimming around in there
i do my 2 yoga sessions
i apply myself diligently
i begin to occasionally transcend n oscillate
my bones feel pleasantly rubbery
i may be old but dont have to feel old
tonite still have to do my 3 month tax doo dah
the kids fight n carry on a bit
i drop mich off in paddington
in a busy street where traffic is building up
mich gets out
and the doodles fight each other to get into the front seat
as one tries to climb in from the back
the other is hitting at her n holding her back
both are appealing to me
DAD I CALLED IT FIRST!
eventually aurora beats down eve n climbs in the seat
talk about oblivious doodles...jesus
i will be co-judging a vegan bake off in feb in newtown
will be playing in lyneham canberra
at a gig that used to be the post office
now its all tree-ey and soy lattes and metrosexuals
no longer the sombre stomping ground of my old bullies
gee how nostalgic will i be....?
anyway
thats it for now
please subscribe generously (if you can)
love
sk
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
australia day
hey hey
its australia day
its 7 46
the humidity is already steaming
the clouds hover uncertainly
the sun comes out n its hard to believe
its the same sun as that pale little yellow thing
that shows up here in winter
man this sun is verily a ball of burning gas gas gas
now i aint gonna write a thing about capt'n cookie
and his seamen
who discovered australia
after all
thats how things were done in those days
you turned up with a union jack n voila
the king had a new continent or whatever
too bad about the people who lived there
we all know this story
the story of a brutal humanity trying to wake up from dark ages
we still are with these idiots in australia promoting lamb
lamb as our australia day dish
its obscene
its barbarously cruel
and a lamb after all is about australian as a polar bear
eating meat is bad for ya folks
but you already know that too
and real bad for the planet
but you already know that too
of course you know that aust is hot in jan
we're in the southern hemisphere to the left of new zealand
you know my mum n dad migrated here for 10 pounds
brought me with em
thus derailing my chances of being an english rockstar
but on the other hand the weather is better here
have had a troubled relationship with ingland ever since
its hard to be neither one thing nor another
but i'm not really much of anything
too aussie for poms
too pommy for aussies
too young once
now too old
in conflict with everyone on this planet over something
except ricky miami and martin krall who are the 2 guys
with whom i can actually be myself
everyone else i gotta watch my step
because a civil war may erupt and i'm so sick of arguing
but you gotta argue argue argue
dontcha?
anyway its real bloody quiet out there
todays the day there may be some racial riots on the beach
they check yer cossies n towels mate
to see if yer carrying booze or drugs or weapons
a million hoons will cram into bondi in nissan skylines
and rev up n down mainstreet
where unfortunately for the petrolheads
the limit is just a snail-like 40 kmh
and loads n loads of johnny wallopers
theyre holding a huge veg barbeque somewhere in bondi today
protesting the pathetic lamb idiots
and eating healthy things that dont have
adrenalin bad karma and cancerous hormone doo dahs attached
if you like to eat lamb
then fuck you
why dont you wise up?
anyway its very quiet as i said
i feel guilty about my short post yesterday
so i up early making amends
my detractors will be happy to see the glowing review in popmatters
where we one of best records of 2009
my detractors will also be happy to know
my tax is paid off!
ha!
my detractors will also be happy to know
i have projects bursting at the seams
and theyre all fucking excellent
i tell you no lie in spades for sure
my detractors will also be happy to know
a friend of mine rigged this little program
which monitors my comments
and automatically deletes spam phish n abusive stuff
i dont even get to read it n i last time i checked
you still got barry typing away his
puerile scatological frustration
but thats what youd expect from him, isnt it?
a failure on every level
furtively writing abuse no one will ever read
the poor poor fellow......i really do pity him you know
my detractors will be happy to know
i am working hard across many disciplines
nailing it for the renaissance men everywhere
my detractors will be happy to know
tibor 2 is behaving himself like a good beast
and is very very nice to drive
i dont need a lot to make me happy
but last night we had a picnic by the sea n it made me happy
the girls knocking themselves out in the water
while me n the missus munched on our veg schnitzels
and all the fixings
i admit my blogs have been a little lacking lately
and this slightly perplexes me
perhaps i am spreading myself too thin
but it seems theres an endless stream of stuff ready to
bubble forth
so i continue
i need a holiday away
a proper longish one
need to get away from electromagnetic pollution
need to get somewhere nice n quiet
sydney will be starting up properly as of tomorrow
and i'm not looking forwards to it
so there ya go
australia day
calloo callay
bah humbug
hip hip hooray
for i'm a jolly good fellow
and nobody can deny
its australia day
its 7 46
the humidity is already steaming
the clouds hover uncertainly
the sun comes out n its hard to believe
its the same sun as that pale little yellow thing
that shows up here in winter
man this sun is verily a ball of burning gas gas gas
now i aint gonna write a thing about capt'n cookie
and his seamen
who discovered australia
after all
thats how things were done in those days
you turned up with a union jack n voila
the king had a new continent or whatever
too bad about the people who lived there
we all know this story
the story of a brutal humanity trying to wake up from dark ages
we still are with these idiots in australia promoting lamb
lamb as our australia day dish
its obscene
its barbarously cruel
and a lamb after all is about australian as a polar bear
eating meat is bad for ya folks
but you already know that too
and real bad for the planet
but you already know that too
of course you know that aust is hot in jan
we're in the southern hemisphere to the left of new zealand
you know my mum n dad migrated here for 10 pounds
brought me with em
thus derailing my chances of being an english rockstar
but on the other hand the weather is better here
have had a troubled relationship with ingland ever since
its hard to be neither one thing nor another
but i'm not really much of anything
too aussie for poms
too pommy for aussies
too young once
now too old
in conflict with everyone on this planet over something
except ricky miami and martin krall who are the 2 guys
with whom i can actually be myself
everyone else i gotta watch my step
because a civil war may erupt and i'm so sick of arguing
but you gotta argue argue argue
dontcha?
anyway its real bloody quiet out there
todays the day there may be some racial riots on the beach
they check yer cossies n towels mate
to see if yer carrying booze or drugs or weapons
a million hoons will cram into bondi in nissan skylines
and rev up n down mainstreet
where unfortunately for the petrolheads
the limit is just a snail-like 40 kmh
and loads n loads of johnny wallopers
theyre holding a huge veg barbeque somewhere in bondi today
protesting the pathetic lamb idiots
and eating healthy things that dont have
adrenalin bad karma and cancerous hormone doo dahs attached
if you like to eat lamb
then fuck you
why dont you wise up?
anyway its very quiet as i said
i feel guilty about my short post yesterday
so i up early making amends
my detractors will be happy to see the glowing review in popmatters
where we one of best records of 2009
my detractors will also be happy to know
my tax is paid off!
ha!
my detractors will also be happy to know
i have projects bursting at the seams
and theyre all fucking excellent
i tell you no lie in spades for sure
my detractors will also be happy to know
a friend of mine rigged this little program
which monitors my comments
and automatically deletes spam phish n abusive stuff
i dont even get to read it n i last time i checked
you still got barry typing away his
puerile scatological frustration
but thats what youd expect from him, isnt it?
a failure on every level
furtively writing abuse no one will ever read
the poor poor fellow......i really do pity him you know
my detractors will be happy to know
i am working hard across many disciplines
nailing it for the renaissance men everywhere
my detractors will be happy to know
tibor 2 is behaving himself like a good beast
and is very very nice to drive
i dont need a lot to make me happy
but last night we had a picnic by the sea n it made me happy
the girls knocking themselves out in the water
while me n the missus munched on our veg schnitzels
and all the fixings
i admit my blogs have been a little lacking lately
and this slightly perplexes me
perhaps i am spreading myself too thin
but it seems theres an endless stream of stuff ready to
bubble forth
so i continue
i need a holiday away
a proper longish one
need to get away from electromagnetic pollution
need to get somewhere nice n quiet
sydney will be starting up properly as of tomorrow
and i'm not looking forwards to it
so there ya go
australia day
calloo callay
bah humbug
hip hip hooray
for i'm a jolly good fellow
and nobody can deny
Monday, January 25, 2010
Sunday, January 24, 2010
portrait beyond portrait
grey day
hoping something will type itself
yeah i believe in heavenly inspiration
do i look naive
it rains off n on
i take the kids for a hot choc then a bubble tea
i suddenly become immune to everything
beauty ugliness anything at all
a friend comes over n we discuss stuff
the afternoon becomes featureless
grey into white
there is no time or temperature
everything becomes still
the inevitable distant barking dog
the lowlevel of bird twitter
how come they never blog tho?
somedays i really feel i am going frigging mad
i get angry
i get confused
oher days are spent in zennish calm
pseudo-zen i should say
or not zen but damn close
but i am a victim of the times
i'm all geed up
i'm all het up
i'm all anxious and got a bad feeling
earthquakes
famines
murders
tragedies
heinous crimes
incredible breathtaking lies
just like it ever was
but in bondi i feel enervated today
more heat threatened tomorrow
drank some more white powder of gold
something happening but what is it?
have got no work done
nothing
not a (soy)sausage
forgive me if you waiting on something here
the weather is heavy
a mist schmist schmog or something
people on the streets amble along
backpackers n blow-ins
colourful clothes etc
oh no another fuckin' description of bondi
i listen to jon hassell
wonder how people are passing this hot summer night
wonder what the rich people are doing
wonder bout the old geezers in hospital waiting to die
wonder bout the children just been born into this quite ludicrous world
the earth itself is not ludicrous
but the world of men is a hilarious fantastic tragi-comedic fiction
unbelievable like you wouldnt believe
wow!
still i'd keep quiet for one of them nice nice houses
with the shady groves and tranquil pools
i'd keep my trap shut
and i'd hang in my studio
ignoring all emails
ignoring all tv
ignoring all newspapers
i'd write a lovely song
i do my little painting
i hide within my house
never never coming out
oh i can imagine that peace n quiet
on long green days of rain
youd see me in my library
flicking thru some arcane fiddle faddle
i dunno
uninspired like i gotta hex round my neck
or a jinx up my leg or something
heavy weather
heavy days
heavy feeling
the nascent storm just hangs there
will sign off
as
sk
for ttb inc
hoping something will type itself
yeah i believe in heavenly inspiration
do i look naive
it rains off n on
i take the kids for a hot choc then a bubble tea
i suddenly become immune to everything
beauty ugliness anything at all
a friend comes over n we discuss stuff
the afternoon becomes featureless
grey into white
there is no time or temperature
everything becomes still
the inevitable distant barking dog
the lowlevel of bird twitter
how come they never blog tho?
somedays i really feel i am going frigging mad
i get angry
i get confused
oher days are spent in zennish calm
pseudo-zen i should say
or not zen but damn close
but i am a victim of the times
i'm all geed up
i'm all het up
i'm all anxious and got a bad feeling
earthquakes
famines
murders
tragedies
heinous crimes
incredible breathtaking lies
just like it ever was
but in bondi i feel enervated today
more heat threatened tomorrow
drank some more white powder of gold
something happening but what is it?
have got no work done
nothing
not a (soy)sausage
forgive me if you waiting on something here
the weather is heavy
a mist schmist schmog or something
people on the streets amble along
backpackers n blow-ins
colourful clothes etc
oh no another fuckin' description of bondi
i listen to jon hassell
wonder how people are passing this hot summer night
wonder what the rich people are doing
wonder bout the old geezers in hospital waiting to die
wonder bout the children just been born into this quite ludicrous world
the earth itself is not ludicrous
but the world of men is a hilarious fantastic tragi-comedic fiction
unbelievable like you wouldnt believe
wow!
still i'd keep quiet for one of them nice nice houses
with the shady groves and tranquil pools
i'd keep my trap shut
and i'd hang in my studio
ignoring all emails
ignoring all tv
ignoring all newspapers
i'd write a lovely song
i do my little painting
i hide within my house
never never coming out
oh i can imagine that peace n quiet
on long green days of rain
youd see me in my library
flicking thru some arcane fiddle faddle
i dunno
uninspired like i gotta hex round my neck
or a jinx up my leg or something
heavy weather
heavy days
heavy feeling
the nascent storm just hangs there
will sign off
as
sk
for ttb inc
Saturday, January 23, 2010
burner
at 9 a.m. its 90 degrees in my kitchen
at 11 a.m. its 110 on my balcony
incessant merciless heat all around ya
your humble correspondent feels a little irradiated
i have cold showers and for for 5 minutes i freeze a little
you hop out feel good for a second
then it starts
the heat
oh god the heat reminds me i'm an englishman after all
the heat is poisonous and vile
everything glows like dully polished lead
my head throbs with the past
with the claustrophobic feeling of being shut up in here
with being fried alive inside my skull
one million hot days
one million hot nights
the memory recoils
the impressions are superimposed on my consciousness by the past
the past yeah baby the past
the past we cannot get our heads out of
except to poke our beak into the future
the engines heat up
machines heat up to pump out the tepid cold ac
the path'll burn yer feet mister
you better step into the shade lady
the sun is gonna scorch your almonds
anyway
i'm up to my eyeballs in heat
frittering away my fucking time being as usual
wonder if this?
wonder if that?
i try to take in some details for ya
but the light bangs around in my retinae
bastard weather no good weather evil weather
the clouds gather
but the sun out trumps the storm for a while
we go to the beach
and i drop off family and find a park miles away
as i walk back along the ultra posh and beautiful street
i sing the long n winding road
the houses are just so lovely they fill me with a furious envy
a stupid discontented envy
the houses have such lovely leafy gardens n facing the harbour
fountains pools tennis courts gazebos arbours exotica statues
the houses are the sizes of small hotels
its like a cross between monaco and a hollywood on the sea
every fucking car is either a beemer or jag or merc or lex
sorry i did see a bentley
oh and my falcon of course
who sits in the park waiting for me
my obedient if lowly slave
the falcon has been running well
gee it uses a loada juice if you put the ac on
but it dont heat up like tibor mk1
(yet anyway)
down at the beach
the heat is unbelievable
i sit on a concrete step
and when the sun comes out
its like your skins being peeled off
the doodles n woofle are straight in the water
its very very crowded today
someone was getting married...picked a warm day
imagine dressed up in all that clobber in 110 heat
thats fucking 44 or something in cels
hope the groon doesnt get his wedding tackle overheated
meanwhile i don my swimming cap n goggles
i don my rashie and my earplugs
n i hit the green brine
netted off from the sharky sharks
its a harbour beach not the ocean
i do about half a k
theres soft jellyfish like the fig jelly in bubbletea....hmmmm
have to say nk looked good in her turquoise rashie
the water brings my temp n my anger into check
i go n have a cold shower in the sheds
walk back to car
thru those tantalizing houses
oh they fill me with longing
oh i could truly appreciate living in a nice house the resta my days
sitting out in my brilliant landscaped doo dah sipping a what not
look if there are any millionaires out there
please
buy me a house
its not much to ask for
a nice little mansion of my own with trees pool drive n all the trimmings
a gardener a butler a man at arms
a cook a cleaner and a procurer of naughty things
oh yes wouldnt i be happy
oh i would just stay home in my house
walking from room to cool room
my billiard room
my trophies room (pretty darn empty)
my smoking room
my dining room
my master bedroom with on sweet
my harbour views from the second story treetops
anyway its just a thought
if you ever wanted to buy someone a little p(a)lace
i could be a candidate......couldnt i.....
meanwhile i find tibor 2
we drive home
i do yoga
a little storm comes along
there is some feeling of release
not enough tho
but dark clouds are building up to the south
we hope for a cleansing n thorough downpour
down on us poor
i'm not getting any work done
i'm distracted edgy restless listless
my white powder of gold drink has not worked out for me
ive ordered another brand off the net
andrew hmelnitzky asks to paint moi for the archibald prize
austs biggest portrait comp
have to be a distinguished australian (resident)
wow
imagine if my portrait wins
everyone will recognize me as i buy my fruit n veg at the shop
fuck it could be worse...
but i bet i dont win
i bet no millionaire buys me a bleating house
i bet the big deluge kinda peters out
theres thunder rumblin' n everything
but i aint got my hopes up
i'm boiling here
i'm cooking alive
i'm sizzling like the bridegroons sausage down the beach
i'm way way way too hot
HOT!
at 11 a.m. its 110 on my balcony
incessant merciless heat all around ya
your humble correspondent feels a little irradiated
i have cold showers and for for 5 minutes i freeze a little
you hop out feel good for a second
then it starts
the heat
oh god the heat reminds me i'm an englishman after all
the heat is poisonous and vile
everything glows like dully polished lead
my head throbs with the past
with the claustrophobic feeling of being shut up in here
with being fried alive inside my skull
one million hot days
one million hot nights
the memory recoils
the impressions are superimposed on my consciousness by the past
the past yeah baby the past
the past we cannot get our heads out of
except to poke our beak into the future
the engines heat up
machines heat up to pump out the tepid cold ac
the path'll burn yer feet mister
you better step into the shade lady
the sun is gonna scorch your almonds
anyway
i'm up to my eyeballs in heat
frittering away my fucking time being as usual
wonder if this?
wonder if that?
i try to take in some details for ya
but the light bangs around in my retinae
bastard weather no good weather evil weather
the clouds gather
but the sun out trumps the storm for a while
we go to the beach
and i drop off family and find a park miles away
as i walk back along the ultra posh and beautiful street
i sing the long n winding road
the houses are just so lovely they fill me with a furious envy
a stupid discontented envy
the houses have such lovely leafy gardens n facing the harbour
fountains pools tennis courts gazebos arbours exotica statues
the houses are the sizes of small hotels
its like a cross between monaco and a hollywood on the sea
every fucking car is either a beemer or jag or merc or lex
sorry i did see a bentley
oh and my falcon of course
who sits in the park waiting for me
my obedient if lowly slave
the falcon has been running well
gee it uses a loada juice if you put the ac on
but it dont heat up like tibor mk1
(yet anyway)
down at the beach
the heat is unbelievable
i sit on a concrete step
and when the sun comes out
its like your skins being peeled off
the doodles n woofle are straight in the water
its very very crowded today
someone was getting married...picked a warm day
imagine dressed up in all that clobber in 110 heat
thats fucking 44 or something in cels
hope the groon doesnt get his wedding tackle overheated
meanwhile i don my swimming cap n goggles
i don my rashie and my earplugs
n i hit the green brine
netted off from the sharky sharks
its a harbour beach not the ocean
i do about half a k
theres soft jellyfish like the fig jelly in bubbletea....hmmmm
have to say nk looked good in her turquoise rashie
the water brings my temp n my anger into check
i go n have a cold shower in the sheds
walk back to car
thru those tantalizing houses
oh they fill me with longing
oh i could truly appreciate living in a nice house the resta my days
sitting out in my brilliant landscaped doo dah sipping a what not
look if there are any millionaires out there
please
buy me a house
its not much to ask for
a nice little mansion of my own with trees pool drive n all the trimmings
a gardener a butler a man at arms
a cook a cleaner and a procurer of naughty things
oh yes wouldnt i be happy
oh i would just stay home in my house
walking from room to cool room
my billiard room
my trophies room (pretty darn empty)
my smoking room
my dining room
my master bedroom with on sweet
my harbour views from the second story treetops
anyway its just a thought
if you ever wanted to buy someone a little p(a)lace
i could be a candidate......couldnt i.....
meanwhile i find tibor 2
we drive home
i do yoga
a little storm comes along
there is some feeling of release
not enough tho
but dark clouds are building up to the south
we hope for a cleansing n thorough downpour
down on us poor
i'm not getting any work done
i'm distracted edgy restless listless
my white powder of gold drink has not worked out for me
ive ordered another brand off the net
andrew hmelnitzky asks to paint moi for the archibald prize
austs biggest portrait comp
have to be a distinguished australian (resident)
wow
imagine if my portrait wins
everyone will recognize me as i buy my fruit n veg at the shop
fuck it could be worse...
but i bet i dont win
i bet no millionaire buys me a bleating house
i bet the big deluge kinda peters out
theres thunder rumblin' n everything
but i aint got my hopes up
i'm boiling here
i'm cooking alive
i'm sizzling like the bridegroons sausage down the beach
i'm way way way too hot
HOT!
Friday, January 22, 2010
typical sydney january day
sex
smoke
sea
sand
storm
its a hundred degrees outside
nimbus baby nimbus
the sky glowers
the fuckin' sun blasts you you wouldnt believe
it radiates thru you like a cosmic ray
drive along with your hundred radio stations
fumes smoke air condition
i work on the past
i write notes for my boxset
i walk to some hot shop n have a tomato sandwich with chips
i read the paper about local celebrities with less talent than shrubs
someone violates my fake roses in the drive
a cockroach shudders as the ants eat it inside out
i am in botany today
yeah near the famous botany bay
toora ra roora ra atali baby
where old cap'n c(r)ook landed
working on the fucking past
thinking about the long gone days of your yore
hot days
big storms
tape recorders
hot bitumen like burn your souls off
in a blue collar blue singlet part of town
i stick twenty dollars in a poker machine n it doesnt blink
i think win win win at machine
but it goes lose lose lose
i drink coffee to stay awake
i am silent in the group
i alone in my head
isolated as usual
a high and lonely destiny said uncle andrew
in my ivory ivied i-mind tower of hours
kilbey
blah blah blah
see you soon
aha
smoke
sea
sand
storm
its a hundred degrees outside
nimbus baby nimbus
the sky glowers
the fuckin' sun blasts you you wouldnt believe
it radiates thru you like a cosmic ray
drive along with your hundred radio stations
fumes smoke air condition
i work on the past
i write notes for my boxset
i walk to some hot shop n have a tomato sandwich with chips
i read the paper about local celebrities with less talent than shrubs
someone violates my fake roses in the drive
a cockroach shudders as the ants eat it inside out
i am in botany today
yeah near the famous botany bay
toora ra roora ra atali baby
where old cap'n c(r)ook landed
working on the fucking past
thinking about the long gone days of your yore
hot days
big storms
tape recorders
hot bitumen like burn your souls off
in a blue collar blue singlet part of town
i stick twenty dollars in a poker machine n it doesnt blink
i think win win win at machine
but it goes lose lose lose
i drink coffee to stay awake
i am silent in the group
i alone in my head
isolated as usual
a high and lonely destiny said uncle andrew
in my ivory ivied i-mind tower of hours
kilbey
blah blah blah
see you soon
aha
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
stab in the light
lichen moss vines lianas
dead sea horses
dead birds skeletal n feathered
swollen up dead fish
their eyes bulge
the current is strong
the white water foams like froth
it froths like foam
we survivors stumble on
escaping from the city
escaping from the country
escaping from the .......
science and art will merge
impossible things realized
the last vestiges of us decay in the forests
oh i feel the power and the light
but where is the glory....
the glory is in one zillion uni-verses
every possible thing that can happen is happening
somehow i know
that i never been steve kilbey
i was just someone told to act like him
the 3 most important things
about being in 2 places at once
is
bi-location
bi-location
and of course
bi-location
a strange friend i have from london/berlin
tells me of monatomic gold
sharpens up the old zingies thats for sure
tweaks yer flashes
your brain soaks up this gold no longer metal
the philosophers so stoned
the alchymical nuptials
the lead into gold
oh boy i hit my computer and ordered a bottle
its coming so soon
and the vine maybe back in my life
something extraordinary is happening everywhere
though it may seem like nothing
i drink fresh water from an outlet
after trudging through the forests
and along the beaches
listening out for liar birds
dr russell and his wife aj
their boy and his friend
then theres cairns the irish millionaire
hed hired this craft to fly to new africa
and then theres the american kid
she was another passenger
and theres me the pilot
i crashed the craft
they said the craft were uncrashable
maybe to them
but not for us humans
my strange friends look at my scar
they say oh man you little dna farm
somewhere in the air my liquid gold
wings its way to me
it is an alchemical elixir
salt water
gold
iridium
can my brains bear to glow
are all the other steves out there ready to glow glow go
but back to our story
we have crashed on this island in this specific ocean
now i just know this island is inhabited
because i am an old alliance airforce man
then i retired started flying the craft
which are not supposed to be able to crash
but like i said
whoever got traded for this technology was sold cheap
the night they sold me
i was frozen like the stars
one minute here
next minute there
a quick little cut
oh why not give me something back i beg the thing
the thing thinks
you want something from us....?
the other things make a sound i interpret as laughter
next minute i was back in my bed in the wrong world
musta been the wrong world wrong world
wrong world
some other earth but not this one
i already feel the effects of the gold
more whinin' gold
wining n dining on....gold
metal guru is it true
back to the story
now i the olde airforce pilot
crashed on this island with these others
and theyre all dreamers
only i is alone the seine and practical one
and they have the elixir
they have the marriage of the two opposites
in a little bottle in their luggage
damn it cairns i say to the irishman
we english and irish should stick together like always
cairns laughs heartily at this suggestion
i dont understand so i laugh too
what did i say?
but i must get my hands on the elixir
we struggle up volcanic hills shivering mauve exposed rock
the ocean always looming to the east
the hills to the west becoming mountainous
the forests are cool and full of danger
somewhere out there
some savage some islander....
i finger my silencer
my silencer will silence any local objections to our passage
dr russell has forbidden the use of violence
but he'll be happy enough when the time comes
yeah yet i crashed the uncrashable craft
yeah you blew it didnt you steve
who is my mother
and all the joyce bennetts in every world reach out to me here
wake up son you must be dreaming she says
i blink the sweat outta my eyes
i walk along behind russell n the woman n the boys
the american kid hangs around
she seems to cling to me
me who crashed the craft going to new africa
i try to conspire with cairns
we need to to get our hands on the elix i say
yeah... he says deadpan more a question than a reply
dr russell is out of his depth here i whisper
is he now ?says cairns shaking his head
i cant decide how to tell you
the moon is an indelible incredible pink cee
the sky is a rich purple
in this version of this world
i am this pilot
this gung ho old school british pilot
i crashed the craft
tho they said it couldnt be done
we survived one nightmare after another
dr russell and his love of nature
but my role is written for me
and i trample this worlds flowers
and i touch my silencer
and i feel its inherent sleek immanence purr
lord i got to get white powder of gold
elephant snorter tusker trunker
man is it all coming together yet
why should it?
i cant be bothered to explain it anymore
dead sea horses
dead birds skeletal n feathered
swollen up dead fish
their eyes bulge
the current is strong
the white water foams like froth
it froths like foam
we survivors stumble on
escaping from the city
escaping from the country
escaping from the .......
science and art will merge
impossible things realized
the last vestiges of us decay in the forests
oh i feel the power and the light
but where is the glory....
the glory is in one zillion uni-verses
every possible thing that can happen is happening
somehow i know
that i never been steve kilbey
i was just someone told to act like him
the 3 most important things
about being in 2 places at once
is
bi-location
bi-location
and of course
bi-location
a strange friend i have from london/berlin
tells me of monatomic gold
sharpens up the old zingies thats for sure
tweaks yer flashes
your brain soaks up this gold no longer metal
the philosophers so stoned
the alchymical nuptials
the lead into gold
oh boy i hit my computer and ordered a bottle
its coming so soon
and the vine maybe back in my life
something extraordinary is happening everywhere
though it may seem like nothing
i drink fresh water from an outlet
after trudging through the forests
and along the beaches
listening out for liar birds
dr russell and his wife aj
their boy and his friend
then theres cairns the irish millionaire
hed hired this craft to fly to new africa
and then theres the american kid
she was another passenger
and theres me the pilot
i crashed the craft
they said the craft were uncrashable
maybe to them
but not for us humans
my strange friends look at my scar
they say oh man you little dna farm
somewhere in the air my liquid gold
wings its way to me
it is an alchemical elixir
salt water
gold
iridium
can my brains bear to glow
are all the other steves out there ready to glow glow go
but back to our story
we have crashed on this island in this specific ocean
now i just know this island is inhabited
because i am an old alliance airforce man
then i retired started flying the craft
which are not supposed to be able to crash
but like i said
whoever got traded for this technology was sold cheap
the night they sold me
i was frozen like the stars
one minute here
next minute there
a quick little cut
oh why not give me something back i beg the thing
the thing thinks
you want something from us....?
the other things make a sound i interpret as laughter
next minute i was back in my bed in the wrong world
musta been the wrong world wrong world
wrong world
some other earth but not this one
i already feel the effects of the gold
more whinin' gold
wining n dining on....gold
metal guru is it true
back to the story
now i the olde airforce pilot
crashed on this island with these others
and theyre all dreamers
only i is alone the seine and practical one
and they have the elixir
they have the marriage of the two opposites
in a little bottle in their luggage
damn it cairns i say to the irishman
we english and irish should stick together like always
cairns laughs heartily at this suggestion
i dont understand so i laugh too
what did i say?
but i must get my hands on the elixir
we struggle up volcanic hills shivering mauve exposed rock
the ocean always looming to the east
the hills to the west becoming mountainous
the forests are cool and full of danger
somewhere out there
some savage some islander....
i finger my silencer
my silencer will silence any local objections to our passage
dr russell has forbidden the use of violence
but he'll be happy enough when the time comes
yeah yet i crashed the uncrashable craft
yeah you blew it didnt you steve
who is my mother
and all the joyce bennetts in every world reach out to me here
wake up son you must be dreaming she says
i blink the sweat outta my eyes
i walk along behind russell n the woman n the boys
the american kid hangs around
she seems to cling to me
me who crashed the craft going to new africa
i try to conspire with cairns
we need to to get our hands on the elix i say
yeah... he says deadpan more a question than a reply
dr russell is out of his depth here i whisper
is he now ?says cairns shaking his head
i cant decide how to tell you
the moon is an indelible incredible pink cee
the sky is a rich purple
in this version of this world
i am this pilot
this gung ho old school british pilot
i crashed the craft
tho they said it couldnt be done
we survived one nightmare after another
dr russell and his love of nature
but my role is written for me
and i trample this worlds flowers
and i touch my silencer
and i feel its inherent sleek immanence purr
lord i got to get white powder of gold
elephant snorter tusker trunker
man is it all coming together yet
why should it?
i cant be bothered to explain it anymore
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
yoker
sheila chandra
a bone crone drone
doing yoga on the balcony in the early morning
what is the nature of this thing we call life ?
sheila chandra (moon) begins with a drone
the drone of her own voice
the drone of an organ
the drone of a string
the drone is maintained throughout
it modulates slightly
it is sometimes thickened with other drones
sometimes it moves upon itself subtly
but it is the one thing
the thing that the other sounds rise and fall upon
part of it yet different
they must be in tune with it
they wait until their moment in the music arrives
and they rise up from the drone
they play their part
they sink back into the drone
the drone plays on nonetheless
the foundation
the given
the cornerstone
the basic principle
the inescapable bedrock of the music
and i think of us all
springing from the drone of god
playing a little part
subsuming back into the drone
maybe coming back again as a reprise
or a motif
or a played out cluster of lovely notes
and the instruments have yoked themselves to the drone
and as the world itself is a complex interactive interacting machine
so are we
system upon system upon system
every system affects every other system
the west only beginning to realize this
but long ago in india
some clever cats who came at things from different angles
not your obvious angles
everyone can see the obvious angles
but only a few people can really think outside the box
the box of puzzles
the box of dilemmas
the box of maya and illusion
these cats these rishis
they intuit yoga
there you go
they did not invent it
they intuited it
they apprehended it in a deep still part of themselves
a part every human has
but you need an angle to get in
you get locked outta your house
you need a new angle to get in, right?
a locksmith maybe
someone whos studied ways to get into locked doors
so these cats these rishis these early yogis
they figure it all out
thousands of years ago
when the west was still picking its nose in a cave
they sussed it
yoga
yoke yourself to the one thing
whatever the fuck that is
dont stand around arguing about its name
we do not have the language to describe the truth
whatever it is
nor do we have the minds to understand
because this game is deep and complex
whilst being simultaneously dead easy
just like fight hard fight easy
you have to take it easy to do something very hard
it is hard to take it easy
vishnu says
i am, i am not
the whole structure is built upon these paradoxes apparently
yoga resolves the paradoxes
there are many yogic paths
the path of devotion yes
the path of knowledge
the path of physical yoga
physical yoga tunes up your physical body
we are spirits operating a physical body via a mental interface
just like a driver maintains his vehicle
we must maintain our physical vehicle
it must be tuned up
it must be stretched and bent and kept flexible
all those pathways within us
the neural
the electrical
the chemical
the invisible spiritual currents
all must be able to flow
all our different systems must be in working order
if we can
we can add an additive
like putting some enhancing agent in your engine
and that is yoga
and that is chi gong
and that is martial arts
and that is incredible athletic gymnastic or musical feats
so you soup up n customize your common or garden chassis
man if you work this system
your slow old lemon
could still turn into a jaguar
your sloth could turn into a mangy panther
and you put the time in
you put the overtime in
you get your rewards
more time in
more rewards out
what rewards? burps some sweet couch potato
oh man
synching up with the uni-verse
hows that for your reward
just that alone...why only a fool would refuse....
you got to get your heart pumping
you got to get your blood moving
you got to get your muscles strong
you got to get your mind still
quieten the cacophony raging in your head
you got to find a discipline
you gotta find your ticket to universal synchronization
maybe not the others
maybe not the barbarians out there doing their thing
but you who read my blog
who like my music
who find something in me that draws you back
i know you would want this thing too
to be more than you were
to surprise yourself and others
to improve slowly but surely everyday
improve at life
improve at what you can do
wrestle more out of your life
get a membership to the universal subconscious
i got mine
and i'm raiding it for ideas all the time
and sometimes
for the briefest moment
i feel god residing in his little chamber
in my heart of hearts
a bone crone drone
doing yoga on the balcony in the early morning
what is the nature of this thing we call life ?
sheila chandra (moon) begins with a drone
the drone of her own voice
the drone of an organ
the drone of a string
the drone is maintained throughout
it modulates slightly
it is sometimes thickened with other drones
sometimes it moves upon itself subtly
but it is the one thing
the thing that the other sounds rise and fall upon
part of it yet different
they must be in tune with it
they wait until their moment in the music arrives
and they rise up from the drone
they play their part
they sink back into the drone
the drone plays on nonetheless
the foundation
the given
the cornerstone
the basic principle
the inescapable bedrock of the music
and i think of us all
springing from the drone of god
playing a little part
subsuming back into the drone
maybe coming back again as a reprise
or a motif
or a played out cluster of lovely notes
and the instruments have yoked themselves to the drone
and as the world itself is a complex interactive interacting machine
so are we
system upon system upon system
every system affects every other system
the west only beginning to realize this
but long ago in india
some clever cats who came at things from different angles
not your obvious angles
everyone can see the obvious angles
but only a few people can really think outside the box
the box of puzzles
the box of dilemmas
the box of maya and illusion
these cats these rishis
they intuit yoga
there you go
they did not invent it
they intuited it
they apprehended it in a deep still part of themselves
a part every human has
but you need an angle to get in
you get locked outta your house
you need a new angle to get in, right?
a locksmith maybe
someone whos studied ways to get into locked doors
so these cats these rishis these early yogis
they figure it all out
thousands of years ago
when the west was still picking its nose in a cave
they sussed it
yoga
yoke yourself to the one thing
whatever the fuck that is
dont stand around arguing about its name
we do not have the language to describe the truth
whatever it is
nor do we have the minds to understand
because this game is deep and complex
whilst being simultaneously dead easy
just like fight hard fight easy
you have to take it easy to do something very hard
it is hard to take it easy
vishnu says
i am, i am not
the whole structure is built upon these paradoxes apparently
yoga resolves the paradoxes
there are many yogic paths
the path of devotion yes
the path of knowledge
the path of physical yoga
physical yoga tunes up your physical body
we are spirits operating a physical body via a mental interface
just like a driver maintains his vehicle
we must maintain our physical vehicle
it must be tuned up
it must be stretched and bent and kept flexible
all those pathways within us
the neural
the electrical
the chemical
the invisible spiritual currents
all must be able to flow
all our different systems must be in working order
if we can
we can add an additive
like putting some enhancing agent in your engine
and that is yoga
and that is chi gong
and that is martial arts
and that is incredible athletic gymnastic or musical feats
so you soup up n customize your common or garden chassis
man if you work this system
your slow old lemon
could still turn into a jaguar
your sloth could turn into a mangy panther
and you put the time in
you put the overtime in
you get your rewards
more time in
more rewards out
what rewards? burps some sweet couch potato
oh man
synching up with the uni-verse
hows that for your reward
just that alone...why only a fool would refuse....
you got to get your heart pumping
you got to get your blood moving
you got to get your muscles strong
you got to get your mind still
quieten the cacophony raging in your head
you got to find a discipline
you gotta find your ticket to universal synchronization
maybe not the others
maybe not the barbarians out there doing their thing
but you who read my blog
who like my music
who find something in me that draws you back
i know you would want this thing too
to be more than you were
to surprise yourself and others
to improve slowly but surely everyday
improve at life
improve at what you can do
wrestle more out of your life
get a membership to the universal subconscious
i got mine
and i'm raiding it for ideas all the time
and sometimes
for the briefest moment
i feel god residing in his little chamber
in my heart of hearts
Monday, January 18, 2010
rise up like a bird
morning comes
well you can depend on it cant ya?
in some bizarre future
i have reincarnated as some old white freckly guy
i stand in the mirror looking at myself
ooh its hard to judge
1 minute i think
yeah you look ok for 55
1 minute i think
ok
yeah you look 55
no one can avoid age can they?
yes i have the wrinkles n lines to prove it
my beard is almost all white
my hair is still brown
my temples are grey
tim says to me
old age is coming from below for you
yes my hair is still brown
hardly any any grey
its a little thinner than my heyday 25 years ago
but its still there despite it all
not too bad actually when you see blokes of 30 with no hair at all
my teeth...ah...yellow cracked n a few rotten
yeah im getting em looked at soon
my dentist always calls in his staff
look at this mans enamel....worn away to the dentine ...!
good on ya tooth quack
boy not looking forward to expense n discomfort involved
my eyes are their usual selves
the only nice thing i heard elli say about me while she was here:
scarlets got those amazing eyes like daddy
ah well they dont look too amazing at 6.55 am
just bleary
anyway
i cant see myself so well close up
thanks to my fading eye sight n my misadventure with the champers cork
of course my ears ring ring ring a high horrible tone or tones
yoga has straightened me out n up of course
i try to do 2 sessions a day
i sometimes dont make the complete 2
but now i am accelerating backwards physically in time
that is
my body itself is more supple more in tune more able
than it was in my bloody heyday n my payday 25 years ago
i meet people they say you look younger than before
i surmise youth is suggested in body language
the loose limbed walk of the young fella
the miserable shuffle of the old bloke
well i aint gonna shuffle baby not yet
not for you or old age
and baby oh old age is surely breathing down my neck
but you see my intuitive plan
was swim yoga vegan (almost)
swim for the deep but not convulsive exercise
so you finish a good workout but not redfaced n sweaty n breathless
youre cool childe
youre sleek like a fish
you practiced the elegant art of swimming
and oh boy them fuckin' endorphins
you dont think the olde time being
staggers away from yonder pool
loaded to the eyeballs on endorphins
theyre free baby theyre free
and i know youd go to any trouble to score
so go to the trouble of a 1 k swim
i guarantee you'll be high
yeah i love being high
i dont like feeling low
i read that exercise fights off de-gen brain diseases too
well the mind n the spirit n the body
come on
if they arent interconnected
then neither are your fingers n thumbs n hands
so oh swimming
good for your body
good for your soul
what more do ya want
in cold water even better
then of course theres yoga
and yoga is a sublime path
yoga can only lead you to better things
yoga is the only real antidote to time i have found
and you persevere year in year out
gonna take a while to re shape my body n bones
but i know when i hit 60
i'm gonna hit the ground flexible
its quite miraculous
the rejuvenation process
people who last saw me play in the nineties
or early 2000
shocked at what i have become
in a good way
how great it is to shock people in a good way
when i limber out all bendy bouncy and fit
look you can do it too
cant you see its working
its fuelling my late life creative spurt too mr humphries
in more ways than one that is too
i feel confident to take anything on
though i still ruin almost all practical things i attempt
yoga n swimming havent fixed that
being a vegan
well
you wanna ever see your cheekbones n jawline again brother
i suggest you eat right
its not a pleasant pill to swallow ...at first
no more more beer n cheese n meat n eggs n milk
get off yer bum
swim
yoga
walk about
i walk at least 5 k everyday often at a very high speed
i run up steps
i never slow down
i march hard n its effortless
i see dads in playground 20 years younger than me
they waddle around with their love handles n blubber
they puff n pant if they have to chase the kids
i feel sorry for em
what the fuck will they look like
and feel like at my age...?
how disappointed their wives will be
to be married to a big old puffing wreck
come on its a challenge
lets fucking defy this zeitgeist
lets fucking get fit
lets get mobile
lets get some spring in yer step
even if like me
youre approaching winter
i will not go quietly into that good night
i'm gonna investigate the multiplication effects
of swimming yoga n vegan (almost) diet
i expect to look younger next year (except my face of course)
i expect to be writing better songs
i expect to be painting better paintings
and most of all
if youre (un)lucky enuff to see my band
you'll notice my unfettered delight
in poncing about at my ripe old age
and showing off
the results
of all my hard work
discipline
(not normally a characteristic most people associate with me)
now gotta do it
gonna hit the front garden and bend this machine
this amazing machine we been given by god
it does everything n keeps the rain out of our brain
so you gotta tune it up
i do anyway
now i'm on this yogic path can never should never stop
art music yoga swimming singing summer
fuck
i'm a lucky guy
i know
i do know
well you can depend on it cant ya?
in some bizarre future
i have reincarnated as some old white freckly guy
i stand in the mirror looking at myself
ooh its hard to judge
1 minute i think
yeah you look ok for 55
1 minute i think
ok
yeah you look 55
no one can avoid age can they?
yes i have the wrinkles n lines to prove it
my beard is almost all white
my hair is still brown
my temples are grey
tim says to me
old age is coming from below for you
yes my hair is still brown
hardly any any grey
its a little thinner than my heyday 25 years ago
but its still there despite it all
not too bad actually when you see blokes of 30 with no hair at all
my teeth...ah...yellow cracked n a few rotten
yeah im getting em looked at soon
my dentist always calls in his staff
look at this mans enamel....worn away to the dentine ...!
good on ya tooth quack
boy not looking forward to expense n discomfort involved
my eyes are their usual selves
the only nice thing i heard elli say about me while she was here:
scarlets got those amazing eyes like daddy
ah well they dont look too amazing at 6.55 am
just bleary
anyway
i cant see myself so well close up
thanks to my fading eye sight n my misadventure with the champers cork
of course my ears ring ring ring a high horrible tone or tones
yoga has straightened me out n up of course
i try to do 2 sessions a day
i sometimes dont make the complete 2
but now i am accelerating backwards physically in time
that is
my body itself is more supple more in tune more able
than it was in my bloody heyday n my payday 25 years ago
i meet people they say you look younger than before
i surmise youth is suggested in body language
the loose limbed walk of the young fella
the miserable shuffle of the old bloke
well i aint gonna shuffle baby not yet
not for you or old age
and baby oh old age is surely breathing down my neck
but you see my intuitive plan
was swim yoga vegan (almost)
swim for the deep but not convulsive exercise
so you finish a good workout but not redfaced n sweaty n breathless
youre cool childe
youre sleek like a fish
you practiced the elegant art of swimming
and oh boy them fuckin' endorphins
you dont think the olde time being
staggers away from yonder pool
loaded to the eyeballs on endorphins
theyre free baby theyre free
and i know youd go to any trouble to score
so go to the trouble of a 1 k swim
i guarantee you'll be high
yeah i love being high
i dont like feeling low
i read that exercise fights off de-gen brain diseases too
well the mind n the spirit n the body
come on
if they arent interconnected
then neither are your fingers n thumbs n hands
so oh swimming
good for your body
good for your soul
what more do ya want
in cold water even better
then of course theres yoga
and yoga is a sublime path
yoga can only lead you to better things
yoga is the only real antidote to time i have found
and you persevere year in year out
gonna take a while to re shape my body n bones
but i know when i hit 60
i'm gonna hit the ground flexible
its quite miraculous
the rejuvenation process
people who last saw me play in the nineties
or early 2000
shocked at what i have become
in a good way
how great it is to shock people in a good way
when i limber out all bendy bouncy and fit
look you can do it too
cant you see its working
its fuelling my late life creative spurt too mr humphries
in more ways than one that is too
i feel confident to take anything on
though i still ruin almost all practical things i attempt
yoga n swimming havent fixed that
being a vegan
well
you wanna ever see your cheekbones n jawline again brother
i suggest you eat right
its not a pleasant pill to swallow ...at first
no more more beer n cheese n meat n eggs n milk
get off yer bum
swim
yoga
walk about
i walk at least 5 k everyday often at a very high speed
i run up steps
i never slow down
i march hard n its effortless
i see dads in playground 20 years younger than me
they waddle around with their love handles n blubber
they puff n pant if they have to chase the kids
i feel sorry for em
what the fuck will they look like
and feel like at my age...?
how disappointed their wives will be
to be married to a big old puffing wreck
come on its a challenge
lets fucking defy this zeitgeist
lets fucking get fit
lets get mobile
lets get some spring in yer step
even if like me
youre approaching winter
i will not go quietly into that good night
i'm gonna investigate the multiplication effects
of swimming yoga n vegan (almost) diet
i expect to look younger next year (except my face of course)
i expect to be writing better songs
i expect to be painting better paintings
and most of all
if youre (un)lucky enuff to see my band
you'll notice my unfettered delight
in poncing about at my ripe old age
and showing off
the results
of all my hard work
discipline
(not normally a characteristic most people associate with me)
now gotta do it
gonna hit the front garden and bend this machine
this amazing machine we been given by god
it does everything n keeps the rain out of our brain
so you gotta tune it up
i do anyway
now i'm on this yogic path can never should never stop
art music yoga swimming singing summer
fuck
i'm a lucky guy
i know
i do know
Saturday, January 16, 2010
theme from someplace
warm silent grey saturday
what does it contain?
as the seconds n minutes slowly reveal 'emselves
this day you will never have again.... probably
you should see the bushes moving in the wind
you should smell the sea breezes gusting at five knots
you should hear the distant happy shouts of children
as the ice cream truck makes its rounds up
billabong ave
then albert street
then baines place
then mansfield st
then the freakin' blvde of broken dreams
i feel : everything
thats why i tried to blot it all out
what do i feel
i feel the greeness and the yellowness of moss
i notice the white eggs in the mouths of black ants
i see the cars with for sale signs which seem to never sell
i see the beautiful ugly people and momentarily i am them
i am them as they are you and you read me and we are all together
we are all together in this poem now
i have invoked you whom readeth and you are in this now
no excuse for not touching my pasteldusty keyboard
thru my tanned little fingers
only one type type types though
my right index bears the percussive brunt
tap tap type type
the way i retell my tales makes em seem unreal
some of my life was so unreal
unreally bad
unreally good
unreally real too
and really unreal
now thats just plain sophistry
but nonetheless i sit in my room
done my yoga
done my swimming
done my blah blah blah
lucky you i'm now writing my blahg
my blah blah blahg
me me me me me me
a gynormous explosion of narcissistic claptrap
and self congratulatory bilge
plus super nostalgic snapshots of some kids past
some kid you never heard of
some kid out there with freckles n a cruel streak
short brown dead straight hair
he did this
he did that
his dad smoked bloody joe blow cigarettes
and his mum worked as a whatnot for such n such
did any of it ever happen i dont expect so
i wish i could go back to one particular day
like in the early daze of my band
when we shot up thru the ranks
when we were screamed at by our audience and our roadies
yeah heres a snapshoot of me
i'm playing the megadrome and theres 1 million screaming teenagers
and we're killing it
and everyone understands it too
every screaming groovy rich well adjusted healthy kid there
well they grokk my groovy trip
this really all happened
and we created a golden dome of energy
and our good karma nourished the crowds
and we played the secret chord that pleased the lord
which was really some kinda f maj or 7
with something left in or out
and man we throbbed like a machine in lift off
and wow i guess that woulda surprised that freckle face brat
to be standing there throbbing
as for the briefest moment stars were aligned
and $ $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ $ $
and i comprehended the nature of fame
and i seeing its inherent emptiness
i donated my hundreds of dollars to
buying myself a cave
where i dwelt meditating on the nature of draftiness
in the lotus pasture
and i read melancholic chinese poems
as i stood on a little bridge
and a blue swallow with a white throat flew overhead
and one day i realized
i realized everything
and the thing about everything
was that there was nothing
nothing to be done or said or even known
i just filled my head with nothing
stuffed it bloody well full of empty-ness
but rocknroll turned into showbiz
and being a hermit made crabby
and nothings better than complete happiness
and showbiz is better than nothing
my life seemed to jump n start in great gushes forwards n back
one minute the idol next minute the idle next minute no idyll
not really ideal
although i usually do deal
arent words crazy
like figures you can add em up anyway you want
you can have a blog n write whatever you like
you dont have to say this is real
this is true
it may be
it may not be
you just make it all up as you go along dontcha
blah blah blah
you put it in your blog
what a weird future i live in
spruiking my mummies book out in deep cyberspace
a cyber space no one could foresee
back when the good old bombs came down on london town
nor when your humble hero came suavely kicking n screaming
nor when i first humbly picked up a bass guitar
and knocked out my first riff
drove my datsun to the flats n
but the levy was dry
canberra
does it really exist?
yeah someone will write
i still live here.....
are you sure
are you sure youre awake
go on
pinch yourself
n
then
forget yourself
forever BABY!
what does it contain?
as the seconds n minutes slowly reveal 'emselves
this day you will never have again.... probably
you should see the bushes moving in the wind
you should smell the sea breezes gusting at five knots
you should hear the distant happy shouts of children
as the ice cream truck makes its rounds up
billabong ave
then albert street
then baines place
then mansfield st
then the freakin' blvde of broken dreams
i feel : everything
thats why i tried to blot it all out
what do i feel
i feel the greeness and the yellowness of moss
i notice the white eggs in the mouths of black ants
i see the cars with for sale signs which seem to never sell
i see the beautiful ugly people and momentarily i am them
i am them as they are you and you read me and we are all together
we are all together in this poem now
i have invoked you whom readeth and you are in this now
no excuse for not touching my pasteldusty keyboard
thru my tanned little fingers
only one type type types though
my right index bears the percussive brunt
tap tap type type
the way i retell my tales makes em seem unreal
some of my life was so unreal
unreally bad
unreally good
unreally real too
and really unreal
now thats just plain sophistry
but nonetheless i sit in my room
done my yoga
done my swimming
done my blah blah blah
lucky you i'm now writing my blahg
my blah blah blahg
me me me me me me
a gynormous explosion of narcissistic claptrap
and self congratulatory bilge
plus super nostalgic snapshots of some kids past
some kid you never heard of
some kid out there with freckles n a cruel streak
short brown dead straight hair
he did this
he did that
his dad smoked bloody joe blow cigarettes
and his mum worked as a whatnot for such n such
did any of it ever happen i dont expect so
i wish i could go back to one particular day
like in the early daze of my band
when we shot up thru the ranks
when we were screamed at by our audience and our roadies
yeah heres a snapshoot of me
i'm playing the megadrome and theres 1 million screaming teenagers
and we're killing it
and everyone understands it too
every screaming groovy rich well adjusted healthy kid there
well they grokk my groovy trip
this really all happened
and we created a golden dome of energy
and our good karma nourished the crowds
and we played the secret chord that pleased the lord
which was really some kinda f maj or 7
with something left in or out
and man we throbbed like a machine in lift off
and wow i guess that woulda surprised that freckle face brat
to be standing there throbbing
as for the briefest moment stars were aligned
and $ $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ $ $
and i comprehended the nature of fame
and i seeing its inherent emptiness
i donated my hundreds of dollars to
buying myself a cave
where i dwelt meditating on the nature of draftiness
in the lotus pasture
and i read melancholic chinese poems
as i stood on a little bridge
and a blue swallow with a white throat flew overhead
and one day i realized
i realized everything
and the thing about everything
was that there was nothing
nothing to be done or said or even known
i just filled my head with nothing
stuffed it bloody well full of empty-ness
but rocknroll turned into showbiz
and being a hermit made crabby
and nothings better than complete happiness
and showbiz is better than nothing
my life seemed to jump n start in great gushes forwards n back
one minute the idol next minute the idle next minute no idyll
not really ideal
although i usually do deal
arent words crazy
like figures you can add em up anyway you want
you can have a blog n write whatever you like
you dont have to say this is real
this is true
it may be
it may not be
you just make it all up as you go along dontcha
blah blah blah
you put it in your blog
what a weird future i live in
spruiking my mummies book out in deep cyberspace
a cyber space no one could foresee
back when the good old bombs came down on london town
nor when your humble hero came suavely kicking n screaming
nor when i first humbly picked up a bass guitar
and knocked out my first riff
drove my datsun to the flats n
but the levy was dry
canberra
does it really exist?
yeah someone will write
i still live here.....
are you sure
are you sure youre awake
go on
pinch yourself
n
then
forget yourself
forever BABY!
Friday, January 15, 2010
summer endless
surprise surprise
its still summer
and the sheer weight of it
comes down on me in our mediocre concrete backyard
a garden it aint
its hot n still n humid
someone hammers
someone shouts out
children squabble
taxis pull up
the shop sells its milk n eggs n cigs n newspapers
the time being inc pty ltd .com.net.org(asm)
sits in his messy art junk room
on my desk right now is :
a can of fix
a pot of gold paint
a huge double tiered box of pastels
now sadly out of order n missing a few dead soldiers
other pastels of different types
have infiltrated the once strict order of my box
can you imagine how delightful the original pristine thing looked
a sweep thru the colours from black to white in about 200 pastels
some of em lie unused untouched in their positions
others are stubs n bits n pieces
some are just empty
pastels a l'ecu by sennelier
my art guru/deelah holly got them for me years ago
theyre like my main axe
since then she got me some iridescent pastels
now mixed up with the others
theyre the same brand n look the same but when they go on.....
now i always start with black i dont use the iridescents so much
but they can really fuck up your black paint with a slimy residue
also holly sent me a box of portrait pastels
and another box of another type n now theyre all pitifully mixed up
my pan pastels (pot pastels actually (ha ha on many levels))
i have paintbrushes
i have erasers
(no i wont call them rubbers , mr humphries...)
i also have one box of my mothers book
i will sell them to you direct and give money to her (maybe)
just paypal me $ 25 and say its for book
n i personally will post em to ya!
i will autograph each copy myself
heres some quotes from her book to pique yer interest
"she was sure steven had great potential as a pianist
and this pleased his dad no end
(then some events occur)
we never saw her again! you blew it, didnt you, steve?"
and try this
"steve and russell were sitting and i was queuing
when a fellow rushed up to me
giving me a big hug saying
what on earth are you doing here?
i was taken aback and looked over to my sons
who were both staring in amazement
i felt sorry for this man really
he must have felt like such a fool when he realized his error
and i wasnt whoever he thought i was!"
or.....what mum...hmmm......?
and finally
check out this scorcher
" i managed to undress steven
and telling him to look at his sooty book,
i climbed on to the top bunk
hoping for oblivion"
freud'd love it.....
but beware theres not too much me in this book
its quite a colourful story
of times n lives that are quite diff'rent to the modern bop
anyway if you were an absolute kilbey compleatist
then you would have to say this is essential
i have my old headphones which some unknown kid busted
scarlet it wasnt me
eve it wasnt me
aurora it wasnt me
my new expensive headphones meant for studio work
random tubes of paint
jet black
turquoise
flame red
some remote controls
an easel
some paper
postcards
flyers
business letters
dictionary of the vulgar tongue
sample:
queer as dicks hatband : out of order
pursy : short- breathed or foggy
pushing school : a brothel
quail-pipe : a womans tongue
i also have a battery recharger
and bits of wire
and some window cleaner
pencils n applicators
blah blah blah
ok gotta go now
n do something meaningful
strike a blow for the caws
etc
in spades
yers truly ruly unruly too
sk
n bondi
2010
its still summer
and the sheer weight of it
comes down on me in our mediocre concrete backyard
a garden it aint
its hot n still n humid
someone hammers
someone shouts out
children squabble
taxis pull up
the shop sells its milk n eggs n cigs n newspapers
the time being inc pty ltd .com.net.org(asm)
sits in his messy art junk room
on my desk right now is :
a can of fix
a pot of gold paint
a huge double tiered box of pastels
now sadly out of order n missing a few dead soldiers
other pastels of different types
have infiltrated the once strict order of my box
can you imagine how delightful the original pristine thing looked
a sweep thru the colours from black to white in about 200 pastels
some of em lie unused untouched in their positions
others are stubs n bits n pieces
some are just empty
pastels a l'ecu by sennelier
my art guru/deelah holly got them for me years ago
theyre like my main axe
since then she got me some iridescent pastels
now mixed up with the others
theyre the same brand n look the same but when they go on.....
now i always start with black i dont use the iridescents so much
but they can really fuck up your black paint with a slimy residue
also holly sent me a box of portrait pastels
and another box of another type n now theyre all pitifully mixed up
my pan pastels (pot pastels actually (ha ha on many levels))
i have paintbrushes
i have erasers
(no i wont call them rubbers , mr humphries...)
i also have one box of my mothers book
i will sell them to you direct and give money to her (maybe)
just paypal me $ 25 and say its for book
n i personally will post em to ya!
i will autograph each copy myself
heres some quotes from her book to pique yer interest
"she was sure steven had great potential as a pianist
and this pleased his dad no end
(then some events occur)
we never saw her again! you blew it, didnt you, steve?"
and try this
"steve and russell were sitting and i was queuing
when a fellow rushed up to me
giving me a big hug saying
what on earth are you doing here?
i was taken aback and looked over to my sons
who were both staring in amazement
i felt sorry for this man really
he must have felt like such a fool when he realized his error
and i wasnt whoever he thought i was!"
or.....what mum...hmmm......?
and finally
check out this scorcher
" i managed to undress steven
and telling him to look at his sooty book,
i climbed on to the top bunk
hoping for oblivion"
freud'd love it.....
but beware theres not too much me in this book
its quite a colourful story
of times n lives that are quite diff'rent to the modern bop
anyway if you were an absolute kilbey compleatist
then you would have to say this is essential
i have my old headphones which some unknown kid busted
scarlet it wasnt me
eve it wasnt me
aurora it wasnt me
my new expensive headphones meant for studio work
random tubes of paint
jet black
turquoise
flame red
some remote controls
an easel
some paper
postcards
flyers
business letters
dictionary of the vulgar tongue
sample:
queer as dicks hatband : out of order
pursy : short- breathed or foggy
pushing school : a brothel
quail-pipe : a womans tongue
i also have a battery recharger
and bits of wire
and some window cleaner
pencils n applicators
blah blah blah
ok gotta go now
n do something meaningful
strike a blow for the caws
etc
in spades
yers truly ruly unruly too
sk
n bondi
2010
Thursday, January 14, 2010
oak flats
its summer in sydney just after christmas
i guess everyones gone away coz its real real quiet
yeah you can park anywhere
the people have all gone north n south
in little villages on days like this....what do they do...?
they play cricket on the beach
they drink beer and smoke
they sit in little deck chairs in the warm prehistoric darkness
some surfers "root" girls in the back of their vans
some take acid and sit around fires on remote beaches
they swim in the lagoons and they fish from the bridge
"no fishing allowed" but there they all are
they have a last swim in the motel pool before mum n dad go out
they eat toasted cheese n tomato sandwiches n chips
n a chocolate milk in the bandstand or grandstand or pagoda
they play euchre on card tables and eat crisps
they get the stuff ready for tomorrow
the holiday is drawing to an end
seems like it never would but there you go
we drive from albion park to oak flats
dad up front of course driving
uncle harry next to him
im in the back between aunty margaret n mum
aunty margaret nurses terry
mum nurses russell
uncle harry n dad smoke n smoke n smoke
dad smokes "filthy rothmans"
uncle harry smokes temple bar n 555
these seem exotic to me
dad always always smokes rothmans
uncle denis smokes viscount
sometimes denis smokes one of dads if he runs out
sometimes i see dad say " give us a viscount , symonds!"
and he'll smoke a viscount
i look at him n raise my eyebrows
he looks at the cigarette n shrugs
he is a confirmed rothmans man until they invent benson n hedges
then suddenly everyone starts smoking benson n hedges
do you suppose there really was a mr benson n mr hedges
its like lambert n butler isnt it?
two snobby names giving tobacco a fancy air
my dad only smoked british cigs
no sir he did not like american style cigs
my dad called cigs fags
all the english blokes did
long before the american meaning became known to us
one of our roadies jokes was
gotta fag for an old digger?
gotta a digger for an old fag?
ha ha ha well maybe you hadda bee there
anyway isnt shocking that i should be so well acquainted
with my dads nicotine habit
but we didnt know in those days it was so bad...did we ...?
so we drive along us women children n babies
no seatbelts
as many as you like
a car full of fowl smoke
driving to oak flats
where theres a beach n a lagoon n pine trees
n fishnchips n maybe some kids from my school
yeah theres joy ballard
and theres john trevanion
and theres ian morris
and theres christine cameron
and theres colourful towels against the white sand
we didnt know sunburn was bad for ya neither
we're all as red as beetroots
well
you can beat an egg but you cant beat a root
ha ha
dad and uncle harry have movie cameras
aunty margaret n mum dont like being filmed
go away les .!
my mother mouths silently on super 8
and she pulls an annoyed face
everyone looks so young young young
russell is like a white blur
his head is full of snowy white hair
dad films me
and i run around cross eyed n bucktoothed
flapping my arms like real stupid brat
suddenly i stop and i look into the camera
theres a flash and a bang
and we're travelling across the waves
the lens is spotted with droplets of water
dad is trying to fish but he doesnt know what hes doing
hes got the perpetual rothmans in his mouth
as he reels in a big nothing
a lovely sunset has come down n we go over to visit some people
they serve food i cant eat n i run outside and explore
i brutally kill any bugs that i find
i squash em n crush em n hit em
i find some matches n i burn leaves n things
i pull out my plastic soldiers n i melt ones leg off
poor thing i think a battle injury
i stage a little war in the grass
people die heroic deaths in my little garden war
it gets dark i go inside
the grown ups are drinking beer n my dads playing piano
mum n dad drink only shandies..half beer n half lemonade
dad is in his element on the piano
but it bores me n even makes me a little angry to see him show off
i say some cheeky things eventually
and my mum promises me a good smacking when we get home
luckily they forget about it by the time we get home
into your own little beddybyes says mum n dad together
ouch i got more sunburnt
mum slaps on calamine lotion
you caught the sun son she says
the cold calamine lotion does actually soothe it
i lay in my room with my golden book encyclopedias
with my rubber knife and my cap gun and my drawers
with my school uniform n my good clothes
its raining outside softly
so softly
i fall asleep
to a gentle drip drip drip
drip
drip
drip
i guess everyones gone away coz its real real quiet
yeah you can park anywhere
the people have all gone north n south
in little villages on days like this....what do they do...?
they play cricket on the beach
they drink beer and smoke
they sit in little deck chairs in the warm prehistoric darkness
some surfers "root" girls in the back of their vans
some take acid and sit around fires on remote beaches
they swim in the lagoons and they fish from the bridge
"no fishing allowed" but there they all are
they have a last swim in the motel pool before mum n dad go out
they eat toasted cheese n tomato sandwiches n chips
n a chocolate milk in the bandstand or grandstand or pagoda
they play euchre on card tables and eat crisps
they get the stuff ready for tomorrow
the holiday is drawing to an end
seems like it never would but there you go
we drive from albion park to oak flats
dad up front of course driving
uncle harry next to him
im in the back between aunty margaret n mum
aunty margaret nurses terry
mum nurses russell
uncle harry n dad smoke n smoke n smoke
dad smokes "filthy rothmans"
uncle harry smokes temple bar n 555
these seem exotic to me
dad always always smokes rothmans
uncle denis smokes viscount
sometimes denis smokes one of dads if he runs out
sometimes i see dad say " give us a viscount , symonds!"
and he'll smoke a viscount
i look at him n raise my eyebrows
he looks at the cigarette n shrugs
he is a confirmed rothmans man until they invent benson n hedges
then suddenly everyone starts smoking benson n hedges
do you suppose there really was a mr benson n mr hedges
its like lambert n butler isnt it?
two snobby names giving tobacco a fancy air
my dad only smoked british cigs
no sir he did not like american style cigs
my dad called cigs fags
all the english blokes did
long before the american meaning became known to us
one of our roadies jokes was
gotta fag for an old digger?
gotta a digger for an old fag?
ha ha ha well maybe you hadda bee there
anyway isnt shocking that i should be so well acquainted
with my dads nicotine habit
but we didnt know in those days it was so bad...did we ...?
so we drive along us women children n babies
no seatbelts
as many as you like
a car full of fowl smoke
driving to oak flats
where theres a beach n a lagoon n pine trees
n fishnchips n maybe some kids from my school
yeah theres joy ballard
and theres john trevanion
and theres ian morris
and theres christine cameron
and theres colourful towels against the white sand
we didnt know sunburn was bad for ya neither
we're all as red as beetroots
well
you can beat an egg but you cant beat a root
ha ha
dad and uncle harry have movie cameras
aunty margaret n mum dont like being filmed
go away les .!
my mother mouths silently on super 8
and she pulls an annoyed face
everyone looks so young young young
russell is like a white blur
his head is full of snowy white hair
dad films me
and i run around cross eyed n bucktoothed
flapping my arms like real stupid brat
suddenly i stop and i look into the camera
theres a flash and a bang
and we're travelling across the waves
the lens is spotted with droplets of water
dad is trying to fish but he doesnt know what hes doing
hes got the perpetual rothmans in his mouth
as he reels in a big nothing
a lovely sunset has come down n we go over to visit some people
they serve food i cant eat n i run outside and explore
i brutally kill any bugs that i find
i squash em n crush em n hit em
i find some matches n i burn leaves n things
i pull out my plastic soldiers n i melt ones leg off
poor thing i think a battle injury
i stage a little war in the grass
people die heroic deaths in my little garden war
it gets dark i go inside
the grown ups are drinking beer n my dads playing piano
mum n dad drink only shandies..half beer n half lemonade
dad is in his element on the piano
but it bores me n even makes me a little angry to see him show off
i say some cheeky things eventually
and my mum promises me a good smacking when we get home
luckily they forget about it by the time we get home
into your own little beddybyes says mum n dad together
ouch i got more sunburnt
mum slaps on calamine lotion
you caught the sun son she says
the cold calamine lotion does actually soothe it
i lay in my room with my golden book encyclopedias
with my rubber knife and my cap gun and my drawers
with my school uniform n my good clothes
its raining outside softly
so softly
i fall asleep
to a gentle drip drip drip
drip
drip
drip
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
wodens day
white storm arrives
the twillies fly away tonight
goodbye back to sweden
the water was green and warm
the sand was yellow and damp
the glass was smooth and brown
the houses are grey with red roofs
n'talie plays the black ryder
i sit looking at all my pastels dumbly
my wrist is a little achey
i think of early days in rozelle
when it rained and i felt so alone
in an alien place
in the damp n horrible basement
which flooded
a thousand cockroaches floating in the murk
i took a bad trip n got on some wrong bus
i thought i was ten
or maybe i was eight again
in wollongong
i took the bus to the wollongong pool for swimming lessons
i pretended i could swim
but on the last day i couldnot swim
no no no
i stood on the side shaking my wet head
i wandered home defeated
summer storm n all
thunder cracks n everything
in rozelle the real estate had not yet boomed
my street was full of crazy old migrants and crims
my street was full of bodgies and widgies and ho-daddies
my street was full of puddles with oil shining on em in rainbows
my street had weird people with strange problems
i was the only norbal one
i was perfectly norbal do you hear
perfectly perfectly norbal
i took drugs and made music on my machine
but i was norbal all right
in old rozelle greasy and flea-ridden
old industrial sludgy muddy tar-y unstarry dump
lever and kitchen fallout
the locals were all half-sick leading their half-lives
and summer was an unbearable blast of concrete heat
amen
the twillies fly away tonight
goodbye back to sweden
the water was green and warm
the sand was yellow and damp
the glass was smooth and brown
the houses are grey with red roofs
n'talie plays the black ryder
i sit looking at all my pastels dumbly
my wrist is a little achey
i think of early days in rozelle
when it rained and i felt so alone
in an alien place
in the damp n horrible basement
which flooded
a thousand cockroaches floating in the murk
i took a bad trip n got on some wrong bus
i thought i was ten
or maybe i was eight again
in wollongong
i took the bus to the wollongong pool for swimming lessons
i pretended i could swim
but on the last day i couldnot swim
no no no
i stood on the side shaking my wet head
i wandered home defeated
summer storm n all
thunder cracks n everything
in rozelle the real estate had not yet boomed
my street was full of crazy old migrants and crims
my street was full of bodgies and widgies and ho-daddies
my street was full of puddles with oil shining on em in rainbows
my street had weird people with strange problems
i was the only norbal one
i was perfectly norbal do you hear
perfectly perfectly norbal
i took drugs and made music on my machine
but i was norbal all right
in old rozelle greasy and flea-ridden
old industrial sludgy muddy tar-y unstarry dump
lever and kitchen fallout
the locals were all half-sick leading their half-lives
and summer was an unbearable blast of concrete heat
amen
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
vespers and jesters
oh silver delicious evening
sublime harbour beach swim swim
like antipodean mediterranean afternoon
like julius seizer himself might march from the waves
like i am back in blessed malta
like i am back in the holy streets of tyre
like i stroll upon the sea of gally lee
oh i pour good wishes on everyone
oh i am everyone else all at once
the old and the young
my consciousness is spread throughout the people
of course none of this is strictly true
but sudden joy pierce guy like me
like im on the verge
like im on the threshold
like im on caffeine or cocaine
in the water the vague shadows of fish
a cotton wool warm mist comes down on the harbour
the droplets zing in my earrings
i see a geezer i know who talks to me
i cant concentrate the sunlight fighting thru cloud
we walk back to the car
ha ha i am good natured papa
where is my child
i say laughing
where is my human child...?
here here here ! squeals little chubby scarlet
running along in her iridescent pink bikini bottoms
tibor in pale gold waits for us like an obedient beast
he starts first time
soon me n my gals are cruising in a slipstream thru the streets
we listen to old classic radio
we curve n sway n rock n roll
n the golden beast serves us well
quietly flying on its rubbery wings steel reinforced
i got no shirt n my hair is still wet
we roll the windows down down down
earlier today i hit surry hills
n jorden brebachs orange room
for some work on something german
see you soon a ha
sublime harbour beach swim swim
like antipodean mediterranean afternoon
like julius seizer himself might march from the waves
like i am back in blessed malta
like i am back in the holy streets of tyre
like i stroll upon the sea of gally lee
oh i pour good wishes on everyone
oh i am everyone else all at once
the old and the young
my consciousness is spread throughout the people
of course none of this is strictly true
but sudden joy pierce guy like me
like im on the verge
like im on the threshold
like im on caffeine or cocaine
in the water the vague shadows of fish
a cotton wool warm mist comes down on the harbour
the droplets zing in my earrings
i see a geezer i know who talks to me
i cant concentrate the sunlight fighting thru cloud
we walk back to the car
ha ha i am good natured papa
where is my child
i say laughing
where is my human child...?
here here here ! squeals little chubby scarlet
running along in her iridescent pink bikini bottoms
tibor in pale gold waits for us like an obedient beast
he starts first time
soon me n my gals are cruising in a slipstream thru the streets
we listen to old classic radio
we curve n sway n rock n roll
n the golden beast serves us well
quietly flying on its rubbery wings steel reinforced
i got no shirt n my hair is still wet
we roll the windows down down down
earlier today i hit surry hills
n jorden brebachs orange room
for some work on something german
see you soon a ha
Monday, January 11, 2010
monday evening
a golden misty cloud comes down on the city
through the window that delicious breeze
the sound of children playing far off far out
a plane the inevitable plane above us
the planes we travel through at night
the way we interpret the future
the way we anticipate our death
in a split second in time
in a split second in space
a tiny slice of civilization plods along happily
most of sydney still on holiday
its quiet out there
the pale gold thing slumbers in the drive
broken slivers of mirrors
ants n thorny weeds
sand like grey dusty soil surprisingly yields a riot of flowers
people check into their rooms
a million soy lattes are on the bubble
people with their plans for extensions
a cape cod n a rumpus room with ocean glimpses
and in this weather my thoughts turn to the indian gods
and to the jungles and forests
and the swans gliding on ponds which reflect the bengali sky
and i sit in the quiet darkness of the forest of suburbia
and the trees moving bending gracefully in seabreezes
and the twinkling streetlights like stars
as the light turns to peach
and everything is temporarily soft
the flyscreens are busted n flap in the wind
clouds hover like equatorial fish
rice paper rolls for dinner
we sit in the grey quiet of the kitchen
the parrots call out chatter and are suddenly silent
some trees hardly move in the winds
they stand erect like phalli
immovable
other trees bounce and shiver and shimmy down
all from the same soil n water n sun these different trees
i go swimming
in the pool is a piece of eel
i bump into it
it had gone thru the pump explained a guy who works there
in the sauna a few regulars a few strangers sweat it out
tho in truth one did not need a sauna today
ah but now the payoff
this delightful evening has arrived
people still half celebrating something they half forgotten
for 2 hours the world hangs suspended in twilight
everything is possible
things exchange shapes and move on
move on into warm darkness
move on into prehistoric summer night
through the window that delicious breeze
the sound of children playing far off far out
a plane the inevitable plane above us
the planes we travel through at night
the way we interpret the future
the way we anticipate our death
in a split second in time
in a split second in space
a tiny slice of civilization plods along happily
most of sydney still on holiday
its quiet out there
the pale gold thing slumbers in the drive
broken slivers of mirrors
ants n thorny weeds
sand like grey dusty soil surprisingly yields a riot of flowers
people check into their rooms
a million soy lattes are on the bubble
people with their plans for extensions
a cape cod n a rumpus room with ocean glimpses
and in this weather my thoughts turn to the indian gods
and to the jungles and forests
and the swans gliding on ponds which reflect the bengali sky
and i sit in the quiet darkness of the forest of suburbia
and the trees moving bending gracefully in seabreezes
and the twinkling streetlights like stars
as the light turns to peach
and everything is temporarily soft
the flyscreens are busted n flap in the wind
clouds hover like equatorial fish
rice paper rolls for dinner
we sit in the grey quiet of the kitchen
the parrots call out chatter and are suddenly silent
some trees hardly move in the winds
they stand erect like phalli
immovable
other trees bounce and shiver and shimmy down
all from the same soil n water n sun these different trees
i go swimming
in the pool is a piece of eel
i bump into it
it had gone thru the pump explained a guy who works there
in the sauna a few regulars a few strangers sweat it out
tho in truth one did not need a sauna today
ah but now the payoff
this delightful evening has arrived
people still half celebrating something they half forgotten
for 2 hours the world hangs suspended in twilight
everything is possible
things exchange shapes and move on
move on into warm darkness
move on into prehistoric summer night
Sunday, January 10, 2010
more of the usual fare
it becomes very hot
i heat up like a red devil
i am heat
i give off heat
though ironically
ive got cold feet
red heat
cold feet
more probs with t-bore mk 11
more alien feelings in my head
more delusions of grandeur
feelings of percy-cution
i empty my pockets
tiny gold coins roll out as if startled
bunches of keys
small bits of paper
bits of string
paperweights
arrowheads
the ace of spades
small jars of unguent
a shopping list in pig latin
dental flozz
mental notes
sequences in code
the people downstairs are having a dinner party
i enjoy hearing the laughter and drunken shouts and squeals
it reminds me this is summer
it reminds me i am still alive and living in bondi
all around parties, tvs, and music compete on the v. warm air
to you in winter how can you understand
i sit here shirtless
slightly hot n bothered
my eyes bulge as they watch my fingers type type type
the heat has sent me madder lake
i am cold stoned sober
i swim in warm limpid waters swirling green with foam n dolphins
i drive through a tangle of streets becoming lost in the radio
the cafes overflow like the styx river in full flood
malchicks in silly hats puh-lease
girls walloping along in their scanty panties
and maternity gown-like thingies
the regular crazies now almost organized like a union
those south american n israeli handsome macho brutes
the merchants flogging their swag
people hanging off the rafters
dance music bang bang bang
womens voices call out in the dark night
dorks howl in the kennels of Suburb
goblins grin in sin city
more sweet bubble tea
more sugar n syrup and sugary syrups
gratification
adolescent lolly fix
my poor rotten teeth
soon must be fixed
will keep you "posted" ha ha
(a post is necessary in a crown)
and this king rude daddy needs more than one crown
long may he rain over ya
as the night goes on the celebrations soften all around
i sit in my womb of impenetrability
i am a rock i am an island
i paint i sing i turn inside out
yoga in the garden
vishnu reaches through the dappled sunlight
slanting onto me
he says oh why dont you go to india
its waiting there for all of you
i hear the beach boys
i see ploogy again as he was
as i was
at it all really was
on those hot night that were virtually an eternity ago
we had a fucking laugh at everyones expense and mostly our own
eventually our own
now i am the cliched man remembering his youth and distant times
we played in a million clubs n bars n all the way
from cairns to melbourne
we hit london n madrid and new york on real hot nights
we hit new orleans on really hot nights
we signed bad deals
we dealt bad signs
we fathered children to come after us
i continue emptying out my pockets
ooh bitter tears
ooh spleen n bile
ooh gossip n slander, salamander
ooh random tips on how to write a hit
random hits on how to trip at the tip
you get the picture
being old isnt all bad
some people in my head sneer n guffaw
some angrily applaud
well at least i know which side my beer is battered
right?
i heat up like a red devil
i am heat
i give off heat
though ironically
ive got cold feet
red heat
cold feet
more probs with t-bore mk 11
more alien feelings in my head
more delusions of grandeur
feelings of percy-cution
i empty my pockets
tiny gold coins roll out as if startled
bunches of keys
small bits of paper
bits of string
paperweights
arrowheads
the ace of spades
small jars of unguent
a shopping list in pig latin
dental flozz
mental notes
sequences in code
the people downstairs are having a dinner party
i enjoy hearing the laughter and drunken shouts and squeals
it reminds me this is summer
it reminds me i am still alive and living in bondi
all around parties, tvs, and music compete on the v. warm air
to you in winter how can you understand
i sit here shirtless
slightly hot n bothered
my eyes bulge as they watch my fingers type type type
the heat has sent me madder lake
i am cold stoned sober
i swim in warm limpid waters swirling green with foam n dolphins
i drive through a tangle of streets becoming lost in the radio
the cafes overflow like the styx river in full flood
malchicks in silly hats puh-lease
girls walloping along in their scanty panties
and maternity gown-like thingies
the regular crazies now almost organized like a union
those south american n israeli handsome macho brutes
the merchants flogging their swag
people hanging off the rafters
dance music bang bang bang
womens voices call out in the dark night
dorks howl in the kennels of Suburb
goblins grin in sin city
more sweet bubble tea
more sugar n syrup and sugary syrups
gratification
adolescent lolly fix
my poor rotten teeth
soon must be fixed
will keep you "posted" ha ha
(a post is necessary in a crown)
and this king rude daddy needs more than one crown
long may he rain over ya
as the night goes on the celebrations soften all around
i sit in my womb of impenetrability
i am a rock i am an island
i paint i sing i turn inside out
yoga in the garden
vishnu reaches through the dappled sunlight
slanting onto me
he says oh why dont you go to india
its waiting there for all of you
i hear the beach boys
i see ploogy again as he was
as i was
at it all really was
on those hot night that were virtually an eternity ago
we had a fucking laugh at everyones expense and mostly our own
eventually our own
now i am the cliched man remembering his youth and distant times
we played in a million clubs n bars n all the way
from cairns to melbourne
we hit london n madrid and new york on real hot nights
we hit new orleans on really hot nights
we signed bad deals
we dealt bad signs
we fathered children to come after us
i continue emptying out my pockets
ooh bitter tears
ooh spleen n bile
ooh gossip n slander, salamander
ooh random tips on how to write a hit
random hits on how to trip at the tip
you get the picture
being old isnt all bad
some people in my head sneer n guffaw
some angrily applaud
well at least i know which side my beer is battered
right?
Saturday, January 09, 2010
trimmings
baby on a hot day
sip something sweet
cool as cold pudding
like lakes at your feet
and
baby on a hot day
touch something smooth
cool as cold pudding
to get in your groove
yeah you got all the trimmings
remember how you used to stand so proud
under the awnings laughing out loud
remember how you used to partly submerge
into the crowd if you got the urge
and remember how you used to turn up trumps
and turn down tramps who used your pumps
and remember how you used to turn to stone
everytime you rocked in the mineral zone
and remember how you rode a cart
until they tore that thing apart
and remember how you named that hill
but the valley remains unnamed still
and remember how you wandered off
and then came back but just to scoff
honey whats that on your lip...froth....?
yeah you got all the trimmings
sip something sweet
cool as cold pudding
like lakes at your feet
and
baby on a hot day
touch something smooth
cool as cold pudding
to get in your groove
yeah you got all the trimmings
remember how you used to stand so proud
under the awnings laughing out loud
remember how you used to partly submerge
into the crowd if you got the urge
and remember how you used to turn up trumps
and turn down tramps who used your pumps
and remember how you used to turn to stone
everytime you rocked in the mineral zone
and remember how you rode a cart
until they tore that thing apart
and remember how you named that hill
but the valley remains unnamed still
and remember how you wandered off
and then came back but just to scoff
honey whats that on your lip...froth....?
yeah you got all the trimmings
Friday, January 08, 2010
meeting
the chruch had a meeting in bondi today
on n on n on it went
our next move
our next release
our blah blah blah
why theres never any money leftover
why theres this bill
why theres that bill
what happened with this
how much does blah owe us
how much to we owe blah
who caught that taxi then
whos gonna do this
whos gonna undo that
oh man
a million complicated questions n answers
leading to more q n a
going round n round
i zone out
dream
come back to earth
theyre still talking about blah
anyway we all got on quite well
it was all very cordial
onwards to 2010 including new tours n records n special events
nothing chiselled in stone though
europe usa on the cards
i guess
this n that
i dunno how it all works
a million figures shout at me from brandished documents
i see the first column of numbers n i tune out somewhere else
something says concentrate but i cant
i'm the minister for esoteric affairs
the books baffle me coz i cant concentrate
my mind wont go where i try to push it
it wont
no more will my fists smash through a brick wall
no more can my eyes see far off distances
the record n publishing businesses are so complicated
%s of this n that n the other
no bastard really seems to know how it works
the 3 experts in the church all got different takes
every figure or statistic is as interpretable as any dada poem
every occurrence can be used to prove yer pointa view
anyway
we're all good mates
we're gonna continue
we're gonna try n be good
sure of course
its a given
on n on n on it went
our next move
our next release
our blah blah blah
why theres never any money leftover
why theres this bill
why theres that bill
what happened with this
how much does blah owe us
how much to we owe blah
who caught that taxi then
whos gonna do this
whos gonna undo that
oh man
a million complicated questions n answers
leading to more q n a
going round n round
i zone out
dream
come back to earth
theyre still talking about blah
anyway we all got on quite well
it was all very cordial
onwards to 2010 including new tours n records n special events
nothing chiselled in stone though
europe usa on the cards
i guess
this n that
i dunno how it all works
a million figures shout at me from brandished documents
i see the first column of numbers n i tune out somewhere else
something says concentrate but i cant
i'm the minister for esoteric affairs
the books baffle me coz i cant concentrate
my mind wont go where i try to push it
it wont
no more will my fists smash through a brick wall
no more can my eyes see far off distances
the record n publishing businesses are so complicated
%s of this n that n the other
no bastard really seems to know how it works
the 3 experts in the church all got different takes
every figure or statistic is as interpretable as any dada poem
every occurrence can be used to prove yer pointa view
anyway
we're all good mates
we're gonna continue
we're gonna try n be good
sure of course
its a given
Thursday, January 07, 2010
the tail of blue kitties
avatar
from the sanskrit avatara
to descend into
specifically the lord vishnu
only vishnu has avatars
vishnu descending into flesh
to experience life here
vishnu as krishna
vishnu as buddha
like jesus in many ways
one name for krishna is krista
the glorious one
the anointed one
the one with every attribute in spades
anyway
what we have here
is an ultra-classic myth
only being slightly retold
its basically pocahontas in space
a white guy goes to wild new land
meets chief of locals daughter
who teaches him how to get down with nature
then white guy has inner turmoil
as his white pals wanna war with the locals
n vice versa
ye olde hero gets torn between these 2 worlds
theres a lotta room for friction in there
no surprises anywhere along the line
the music : for crying out loud
if youre on a wild weird planet covered in perpetual jungle
let the music represent that
not the same old stiff upper lip pseudo -mock- classical pomp
the same old starwars crossed with titanic
no lady there are no celtic pipes on fantabulous planets
they got their own weird music
SO WHY THIS HOLLYWOOD DROSS MUSIC
IT FUCKED THE FILM!
for me anyway
next
do people really still say stuff like
youre not only one with a gun, bitch
in 200 years time?
do the tough scientist women still puff on ciggies?
other than that
i dont think this qualifies as a special cinematic milestone
the 3D made nk so ill she left about a third in
aurora stuck it out but without her glasses
me n evie n elli escaped unscathed apparently
but i could see there were plenty of people leaving in a hurry
the special effects themselves are pretty good
not totally unbelievable brilliant
but you know good
ok good is good
on another level
i enjoyed the film
you knew from the start exactly what would happen
but it didnt matter
a classic storyline
you wanted n demanded a happy ending
a few cliffhanger moments
but the hero n heroine get through
on one level i like it
on another level i'm dissatisfied
on another level...what do ya bloody expect
evie loved it
aurora was kinda feeling a bit sick
elli was already dialling up her next appointment
on her mobile phone
me....yeah...i'm glad i saw it
i dont wanna see it again
better than a loada other films tho no doubt
bad news : already smashed a mirror on tibor 2
i side swiped something in a narrow street
crash
oh god
sorry!
from the sanskrit avatara
to descend into
specifically the lord vishnu
only vishnu has avatars
vishnu descending into flesh
to experience life here
vishnu as krishna
vishnu as buddha
like jesus in many ways
one name for krishna is krista
the glorious one
the anointed one
the one with every attribute in spades
anyway
what we have here
is an ultra-classic myth
only being slightly retold
its basically pocahontas in space
a white guy goes to wild new land
meets chief of locals daughter
who teaches him how to get down with nature
then white guy has inner turmoil
as his white pals wanna war with the locals
n vice versa
ye olde hero gets torn between these 2 worlds
theres a lotta room for friction in there
no surprises anywhere along the line
the music : for crying out loud
if youre on a wild weird planet covered in perpetual jungle
let the music represent that
not the same old stiff upper lip pseudo -mock- classical pomp
the same old starwars crossed with titanic
no lady there are no celtic pipes on fantabulous planets
they got their own weird music
SO WHY THIS HOLLYWOOD DROSS MUSIC
IT FUCKED THE FILM!
for me anyway
next
do people really still say stuff like
youre not only one with a gun, bitch
in 200 years time?
do the tough scientist women still puff on ciggies?
other than that
i dont think this qualifies as a special cinematic milestone
the 3D made nk so ill she left about a third in
aurora stuck it out but without her glasses
me n evie n elli escaped unscathed apparently
but i could see there were plenty of people leaving in a hurry
the special effects themselves are pretty good
not totally unbelievable brilliant
but you know good
ok good is good
on another level
i enjoyed the film
you knew from the start exactly what would happen
but it didnt matter
a classic storyline
you wanted n demanded a happy ending
a few cliffhanger moments
but the hero n heroine get through
on one level i like it
on another level i'm dissatisfied
on another level...what do ya bloody expect
evie loved it
aurora was kinda feeling a bit sick
elli was already dialling up her next appointment
on her mobile phone
me....yeah...i'm glad i saw it
i dont wanna see it again
better than a loada other films tho no doubt
bad news : already smashed a mirror on tibor 2
i side swiped something in a narrow street
crash
oh god
sorry!
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
hi guys
just a short one
the new falcon is ALREADY playing up (FUCK!)
it goes in the garage on friday
bubble tea is a sweet (soy for me) milky drink with tapioca jelly n other jellies
ryan.....can you lend me a toof?
the flat where twills are staying till next week....well
the owners coming back suddenly leading to wailing n gnashing off teeth
tonight me n nk elli k evie k aurora k going to see avatar
in 3D at imax screen in syd
will report tomorrow
feeling like AAAAARGHHH!!!!
mary i wish that fuckin MS would just piss off
linjo i wonder if my spleen is clogged with yeast?
meanwhile
love on all a ya
sk
the new falcon is ALREADY playing up (FUCK!)
it goes in the garage on friday
bubble tea is a sweet (soy for me) milky drink with tapioca jelly n other jellies
ryan.....can you lend me a toof?
the flat where twills are staying till next week....well
the owners coming back suddenly leading to wailing n gnashing off teeth
tonight me n nk elli k evie k aurora k going to see avatar
in 3D at imax screen in syd
will report tomorrow
feeling like AAAAARGHHH!!!!
mary i wish that fuckin MS would just piss off
linjo i wonder if my spleen is clogged with yeast?
meanwhile
love on all a ya
sk
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
yabber yabber
not much to say
my life seems complicated beyond all reason
so many things to do
so many things to read to write
so many other things
the pressures off in some ways but
i cant relax
hedonism sucks me in
paranoia whispers
i give in to anger
i give in to inertia
have to force myself sometimes
my protestant work ethic has kicked in
after all the years when i didnt do much
i got loadsa things all on the boil
what about this
what about that
of course i got the kids
they demand and deserve time
they need guidance help n discipline
i battle with trying to make them exercise n be outdoors
the computers n tvs n ipods make laziness easy
elli n minna are complex personalities
elli is like a female me
if i was gorgeous blonde swedish and 18
the problem with being like me
is that you hate any one saying
oh youre just like me
so elli cant see thats shes like me
shes simultaneously smart n stupid
and mercurially switches between either
its a tightrope of diplomacy to talk with her
this seems to be a time of argy bargy
twice the paddywagon in my street
dealing with aggro booze fuelled domestics
DID YOU FUCK HIM? DID YOU FUCKING FUCK HIM?
demands a yob of his missus at 4 a. m.
on a very very quiet morning
he then demands more specific info in graphic terms
until another neighbour goes out on her balcony n screams
will you shuttup.....? i got kids in here....
I GOT FUCKIN" KIDS IN HERE ....bawls el yob in reply
there are arguments up n down the road in the hot steamy weather
dead pine trees litter the streets celebrating what....life...?
on a planet needing all the trees it can get.....what a shame....
i bought a new car today
sorry
fuck it
i need to drive about
i bought a 9 year old pale gold ford falcon station wagon
no frills
hope its not a pale gold lemon
i can chuck gear in the back
i can park in loading zones
its like tibor but a bit better
my musical gear arrived
what it is is nothing really exciting
i got a mic
i got some very good but pricey speakers
i got a focusrite interface
i got a keyboard n stand
n some other stuff
now i got no room for it in here
in this room where i sit n i type
i cant have a painting studio n a rec studio in one room
but i dunno what to do
blather blather
anyway
thats my stimulus spending spree over
i am an addict to the bubble tea thingies
had a dip in ocean today with biggle n starr
etc
ah....thats it....
life
my life seems complicated beyond all reason
so many things to do
so many things to read to write
so many other things
the pressures off in some ways but
i cant relax
hedonism sucks me in
paranoia whispers
i give in to anger
i give in to inertia
have to force myself sometimes
my protestant work ethic has kicked in
after all the years when i didnt do much
i got loadsa things all on the boil
what about this
what about that
of course i got the kids
they demand and deserve time
they need guidance help n discipline
i battle with trying to make them exercise n be outdoors
the computers n tvs n ipods make laziness easy
elli n minna are complex personalities
elli is like a female me
if i was gorgeous blonde swedish and 18
the problem with being like me
is that you hate any one saying
oh youre just like me
so elli cant see thats shes like me
shes simultaneously smart n stupid
and mercurially switches between either
its a tightrope of diplomacy to talk with her
this seems to be a time of argy bargy
twice the paddywagon in my street
dealing with aggro booze fuelled domestics
DID YOU FUCK HIM? DID YOU FUCKING FUCK HIM?
demands a yob of his missus at 4 a. m.
on a very very quiet morning
he then demands more specific info in graphic terms
until another neighbour goes out on her balcony n screams
will you shuttup.....? i got kids in here....
I GOT FUCKIN" KIDS IN HERE ....bawls el yob in reply
there are arguments up n down the road in the hot steamy weather
dead pine trees litter the streets celebrating what....life...?
on a planet needing all the trees it can get.....what a shame....
i bought a new car today
sorry
fuck it
i need to drive about
i bought a 9 year old pale gold ford falcon station wagon
no frills
hope its not a pale gold lemon
i can chuck gear in the back
i can park in loading zones
its like tibor but a bit better
my musical gear arrived
what it is is nothing really exciting
i got a mic
i got some very good but pricey speakers
i got a focusrite interface
i got a keyboard n stand
n some other stuff
now i got no room for it in here
in this room where i sit n i type
i cant have a painting studio n a rec studio in one room
but i dunno what to do
blather blather
anyway
thats my stimulus spending spree over
i am an addict to the bubble tea thingies
had a dip in ocean today with biggle n starr
etc
ah....thats it....
life
Monday, January 04, 2010
sunburner moonripped
explosion of unbelievable energy travels up yer spine
you slump forwards but it shakes ya nonetheless
notwithstanding the technicolour flash behind yer eyes
hereinafter referred to as t.flash
t.flash zooms in n in in unbearability
the sky all frazzled
the time fizzes like singing voices sibilance
the things you took to be real
the anchors that hold you here
the breaks that you apply
the measurements you trust
you start to move out of your body
your shaken by an intense oscillating feeling
you run down the blackest corridor of em all
fuck the cops have arrived in time to see you dissolved
they shoot at you and the shots singe your starhide
but its too late to stop you know now
you remain a smile hanging in the air
you remain a laugh on the wind
you remain a name on their lips
in contraverted time where you arrive with a frump
where the clocks have faces
and the the second hands have fingers
and a load of screwy other things
that make themselves known with another t.flash
which lights up the smouldering recesses of yer cranial void
and you roll over on some hard n polishious floor
all cold n shiny like a marbled field of unending frozen patterns
cracking out to the horizon
tracking the shapes of beasts in spirit
lacquered under a varnished veneerish queerish glass
travel induces nausea
but you have nothing to throw up but the past
you heave upon the years
you choke on individual days that stick in yer craw
you taste bitter gone long gone nights of heat and darkness
you gag on on yer old gags
you spit out your spleen n bile and its tres vile
whoo you nearly faintly pass out
you remember that voice from longer go
that said
its almost like dying, isnt it...?
maybe you are dying you think
a t.flash and wave of panic
fuck fuck fuck
think think think
come down you tell yourself
somethings has destabilized me you repeat to yourself hollowly
whoo you cant feel your hands as the punch in the sequences
the numbers all fade from your mind
day and night at once
on the threshold of a million million dreams
at the hinted lands
at the promiser lands
at the mountains of mayhem n sheer madness
in the vale and veil of death
whoo sunburner moonripped
you slump forwards but it shakes ya nonetheless
notwithstanding the technicolour flash behind yer eyes
hereinafter referred to as t.flash
t.flash zooms in n in in unbearability
the sky all frazzled
the time fizzes like singing voices sibilance
the things you took to be real
the anchors that hold you here
the breaks that you apply
the measurements you trust
you start to move out of your body
your shaken by an intense oscillating feeling
you run down the blackest corridor of em all
fuck the cops have arrived in time to see you dissolved
they shoot at you and the shots singe your starhide
but its too late to stop you know now
you remain a smile hanging in the air
you remain a laugh on the wind
you remain a name on their lips
in contraverted time where you arrive with a frump
where the clocks have faces
and the the second hands have fingers
and a load of screwy other things
that make themselves known with another t.flash
which lights up the smouldering recesses of yer cranial void
and you roll over on some hard n polishious floor
all cold n shiny like a marbled field of unending frozen patterns
cracking out to the horizon
tracking the shapes of beasts in spirit
lacquered under a varnished veneerish queerish glass
travel induces nausea
but you have nothing to throw up but the past
you heave upon the years
you choke on individual days that stick in yer craw
you taste bitter gone long gone nights of heat and darkness
you gag on on yer old gags
you spit out your spleen n bile and its tres vile
whoo you nearly faintly pass out
you remember that voice from longer go
that said
its almost like dying, isnt it...?
maybe you are dying you think
a t.flash and wave of panic
fuck fuck fuck
think think think
come down you tell yourself
somethings has destabilized me you repeat to yourself hollowly
whoo you cant feel your hands as the punch in the sequences
the numbers all fade from your mind
day and night at once
on the threshold of a million million dreams
at the hinted lands
at the promiser lands
at the mountains of mayhem n sheer madness
in the vale and veil of death
whoo sunburner moonripped
Sunday, January 03, 2010
fibonacci fiddle faddle
befuddled
or in another life
some mathematician
i dreamed up a groovy sequence of notes
the numbers always came up for me
the beautiful sevens
the lovely thirteens
the supreme twenty threes
with my king minus subtraction contraption
with my strings of vulgar fractions
with my areas
with my volumes
with my sweet velocity
with my ratios and indices
with my theoretical place in the universe
i juggled numbers in such a way
even those who could not understand would see
the fruitful curves of geometry
where the numbers turned into music
and the music turned into a spell
and the spell was a number of words
and each number represented a value
a colour and a letter
and i grabbed hold of existence
at its deepest square root
at the prime number embedded in its core
i tore back the zeros from the one
at once i perceived this reality's formulae
which cannot ever be accurately expressed
only inwardly observed
everything fitted the sequence
the sequence was a loop
the loop was a circle with radii and
a voluptuous circumference
by means of certain calculations
the nature of reality could be apprehended
on paper
in pencil
or in the stars in our skies
or in the majesty of storms
or in the hand of karma
or in the arms of love
or in the art of the old masters
or in the eyes of the glorious saints
or in the finality of death
the final division
between the living and the dead
dead or alive
off or on
zero or one
we are binary creatures in an omni-dimensional model
in theatres of operations
before the great emperors of our worlds
our 3 worlds
past present future
here there everywhere
jesus jehovah holyspirit
brahma vishnu shiva
good bad and ugly
yes the threes came thick and fast as
i performed for those great kings
my number dance
my sequence of perfect notes
my musical vision
my deduction of unreality
my addition of infinties
my incredible arithmetic tock tick
oh time
oh space
oh intelligence
oh imperceptibility
out of thin air
i pulled the numbers
that proved the theorem
that justified the joy
that permeated each strata
that multiplied the data
that love increased and increased
until
suddenly
it all ceased
or in another life
some mathematician
i dreamed up a groovy sequence of notes
the numbers always came up for me
the beautiful sevens
the lovely thirteens
the supreme twenty threes
with my king minus subtraction contraption
with my strings of vulgar fractions
with my areas
with my volumes
with my sweet velocity
with my ratios and indices
with my theoretical place in the universe
i juggled numbers in such a way
even those who could not understand would see
the fruitful curves of geometry
where the numbers turned into music
and the music turned into a spell
and the spell was a number of words
and each number represented a value
a colour and a letter
and i grabbed hold of existence
at its deepest square root
at the prime number embedded in its core
i tore back the zeros from the one
at once i perceived this reality's formulae
which cannot ever be accurately expressed
only inwardly observed
everything fitted the sequence
the sequence was a loop
the loop was a circle with radii and
a voluptuous circumference
by means of certain calculations
the nature of reality could be apprehended
on paper
in pencil
or in the stars in our skies
or in the majesty of storms
or in the hand of karma
or in the arms of love
or in the art of the old masters
or in the eyes of the glorious saints
or in the finality of death
the final division
between the living and the dead
dead or alive
off or on
zero or one
we are binary creatures in an omni-dimensional model
in theatres of operations
before the great emperors of our worlds
our 3 worlds
past present future
here there everywhere
jesus jehovah holyspirit
brahma vishnu shiva
good bad and ugly
yes the threes came thick and fast as
i performed for those great kings
my number dance
my sequence of perfect notes
my musical vision
my deduction of unreality
my addition of infinties
my incredible arithmetic tock tick
oh time
oh space
oh intelligence
oh imperceptibility
out of thin air
i pulled the numbers
that proved the theorem
that justified the joy
that permeated each strata
that multiplied the data
that love increased and increased
until
suddenly
it all ceased
Saturday, January 02, 2010
janus :2 faced roman god of beginnings n endings
tragic news that gregory slay
isidore drummer
remy zero drummer
died yesterday from the big C
after a short illness
he was at home with family n friends
mr slay as we called him
was energetic charismatic generous mischievous
and very very boyish n childlike
i believe he was in his mid to late thirties
a total one off character
we instantly became fast friends
we shot a video for isidore that got aborted
we hung out a bit in l.a.
including an intoxicated isidore all night studio jam
(cmon jeffrey ...send me a copy!)
where i adlibbed most of the lyrics about...mr slay...
an american jack the lad
mr slay vale my man
i am shocked at yer sudden passing
i will miss your effervescent personality
ok
i guess it had to happen eventually:
a geezer writes to me on myspace
the email is grandly entitled
"im the guy who wrote the riff in unguarded moment"
in a very nice tone
the geezer says
im sure its haunting you etc etc
but i was in such n such a band who supported you
at such n such a gig
(a gig we never actually played at, mind you!)
and church road crew recorded our show
and gave us a cassette
and gave you a cassette too apparently
which contains such n such a song
wherein you stole the riff for unguarded moment !!!???
then some very very condescending n extremely infuriating stuff
about we have all done wrong things that we try to hide etc etc
and i should make amends etc but geezer emphasizes
hes not threatening me or anything
this geezer is so wide of the mark
so pitifully delusional
everybody knows i stole that riff from the melody in ticket to ride ...
anyhow i only was playing the bass part
pete n marty kinda figured out their bits
it has about as much to do with this geezer as
a fucking cod in the northern sea
yet his language is so unbelievably self-righteous
i tell ya one thing i aint ever done mr geezer
n thats sit around listening to the live tapes of bands
who opened for us in some dingy non existent pub
mr geezer my head was overflowing with songs 24/7 in them days
i never stole nothing from ya
but go ahead
sioux me!
now please dont write in my comments
oooh ...why djya get so angry with that...!?
its my blogg
i get angry with whatever i like my friends
and some of this stuff is just a fucking insult
and i, like you, have my pressure points
and you know
i wouldnt have minded if they guy had written :
dear kilbey
i always wondered this
and tell me honestly now
man to man
didja rip off me riff?
signed
a geezer
ok
i would never of mentioned it again
to anyone
but this geezers language was thoroughly offensive
so geezer if yer reading
sorry pal
its not your riff
though you may think you have one very similar, i'm sure
yawn.....
and why wait 30 years
why not go me when it "happened"...?
next......
the weather is unbelievably humid
the pool was full of ninnies
the sauna full of strangers
had a mango strawberry date banana rice milk smoothy
mmmmm....
but
poor mr slay....
what a nice cat......!
R.I.P.
isidore drummer
remy zero drummer
died yesterday from the big C
after a short illness
he was at home with family n friends
mr slay as we called him
was energetic charismatic generous mischievous
and very very boyish n childlike
i believe he was in his mid to late thirties
a total one off character
we instantly became fast friends
we shot a video for isidore that got aborted
we hung out a bit in l.a.
including an intoxicated isidore all night studio jam
(cmon jeffrey ...send me a copy!)
where i adlibbed most of the lyrics about...mr slay...
an american jack the lad
mr slay vale my man
i am shocked at yer sudden passing
i will miss your effervescent personality
ok
i guess it had to happen eventually:
a geezer writes to me on myspace
the email is grandly entitled
"im the guy who wrote the riff in unguarded moment"
in a very nice tone
the geezer says
im sure its haunting you etc etc
but i was in such n such a band who supported you
at such n such a gig
(a gig we never actually played at, mind you!)
and church road crew recorded our show
and gave us a cassette
and gave you a cassette too apparently
which contains such n such a song
wherein you stole the riff for unguarded moment !!!???
then some very very condescending n extremely infuriating stuff
about we have all done wrong things that we try to hide etc etc
and i should make amends etc but geezer emphasizes
hes not threatening me or anything
this geezer is so wide of the mark
so pitifully delusional
everybody knows i stole that riff from the melody in ticket to ride ...
anyhow i only was playing the bass part
pete n marty kinda figured out their bits
it has about as much to do with this geezer as
a fucking cod in the northern sea
yet his language is so unbelievably self-righteous
i tell ya one thing i aint ever done mr geezer
n thats sit around listening to the live tapes of bands
who opened for us in some dingy non existent pub
mr geezer my head was overflowing with songs 24/7 in them days
i never stole nothing from ya
but go ahead
sioux me!
now please dont write in my comments
oooh ...why djya get so angry with that...!?
its my blogg
i get angry with whatever i like my friends
and some of this stuff is just a fucking insult
and i, like you, have my pressure points
and you know
i wouldnt have minded if they guy had written :
dear kilbey
i always wondered this
and tell me honestly now
man to man
didja rip off me riff?
signed
a geezer
ok
i would never of mentioned it again
to anyone
but this geezers language was thoroughly offensive
so geezer if yer reading
sorry pal
its not your riff
though you may think you have one very similar, i'm sure
yawn.....
and why wait 30 years
why not go me when it "happened"...?
next......
the weather is unbelievably humid
the pool was full of ninnies
the sauna full of strangers
had a mango strawberry date banana rice milk smoothy
mmmmm....
but
poor mr slay....
what a nice cat......!
R.I.P.
Friday, January 01, 2010
2010 so far
we see 9 pm fireworks from a high plateau above bondi
looking towards the city
a loada people gathered up there
sparklers
white wine
eskies etc
charmless youths with a mishmash of last 40 years of fashion
usually the worst n most inappropriate bits
a lot wearing those stupid little cutesy hats
guffawing n pushing n stuff...
woofle sits on my shoulders to watch
i love the greem ones best she says
we go home
i listen to beatles on balcony
one night of year you can blast yer music
but all around is relentless doof doof doof
like the drums of doom
at midnight the fireworks explode again
i just cant get too excited
some neat tricks with the hubba bridge tho
looks like its burning
the kids go to sleep
me n nk (over) indulge in everything
hell it was new years eve
wake up today
feeling sore and sorry
go down beach
its warm and steamy and raining slightly
but the sun is kinda breaking thru too
swim in the sea with all five daughters
nice to see em together
have mexican for lunch
have sno cones at beach
have bubble tea after
wow costs a fortune but it is new years day
come home
nap and wake up feeling groggy
stumble around
write blog
early night i suspect
looking towards the city
a loada people gathered up there
sparklers
white wine
eskies etc
charmless youths with a mishmash of last 40 years of fashion
usually the worst n most inappropriate bits
a lot wearing those stupid little cutesy hats
guffawing n pushing n stuff...
woofle sits on my shoulders to watch
i love the greem ones best she says
we go home
i listen to beatles on balcony
one night of year you can blast yer music
but all around is relentless doof doof doof
like the drums of doom
at midnight the fireworks explode again
i just cant get too excited
some neat tricks with the hubba bridge tho
looks like its burning
the kids go to sleep
me n nk (over) indulge in everything
hell it was new years eve
wake up today
feeling sore and sorry
go down beach
its warm and steamy and raining slightly
but the sun is kinda breaking thru too
swim in the sea with all five daughters
nice to see em together
have mexican for lunch
have sno cones at beach
have bubble tea after
wow costs a fortune but it is new years day
come home
nap and wake up feeling groggy
stumble around
write blog
early night i suspect
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