a poem created from S.Kilbey’s sentence-making template from page 59 of his book of collected poetry, Uncollected:
sky leaves sacred,
as night’s marble drags
as fast as life’s blur -
the perfume to celebrate sacrifice
rudely kills our luxury
warmly breathe for her
you give a moment but nothing
and now An Internet List:
Day 01 - A song that makes you happy
Lets Hit One More Place - Richmond Fontaine
Day 02 - A song that helps you clear your head
Head On/Pill - King Gizzard and The Lizzard Wizard
Day 03 - A song that makes you laugh
cunalingus - Tim Rogers and Tex Perkins
Day 04 - A song that reminds you of something sad
Track #4 off () Sigur Ros
Day 05 - A song that has a new meaning to you every time you hear it
Everything Is Fucked - Dirty Three
Day 06 - A song you can always relate to
Big Indian, The Dandy Warhols
Day 07 - A song that is your guilty pleasure
Everything by Oasis
Day 08 - A song you liked when you were younger
A Forest, The Cure
Day 09 - A song that makes you want to dance
Desperate Hours, Died Pretty
Day 10 - A song that makes you cry
Rings of Saturn, Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds
Day 11 - A song that reminds you of summer
All of Oh, Inverted World, by The Shins
Day 12 - A song that reminds you of your best friend
A New Low In Getting High, Brian Jonestown Massacre
Day 13 - A song you sing to in the shower
NA, but I’ll Work When Im Dead, The Fauves
Day 14 - A song you like hearing live
Tantalised, The Church
Happy Hunting Ground, The Church
Day 15 - A song people wouldn’t expect you to like
Everything by Lana Del Ray
Day 16 - A song that holds a lot of meaning to you
Rain Falls For Wind, The Sleepy Jackson
Day 17 - A song that annoys you
Africa, Toto
Day 18 - A song you have as your ringtone
Shaddap Your Face, Joe Dolce
Day 19 - A song you’re currently obsessed with
Day Disguise, Hope Sandoval
Day 20 - A song from a new album you are waiting for to come out
Whatever track 3, 6 and 9 is on the new Brian Jonestown Massacre album
Day 21 - A song you want to dance to at your wedding
It was That Aint Bad by Ratcat
Day 22 - A song that would be the theme song to a TV show about your life
Grinderman, by Grinderman
Day 23 - A song that makes you angry
Ace of Spades, Motorhead
Day 24 - A cover song
The Raveonettes coviering The Door’s The End
Day 25 - An acoustic song you love
You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away, The Beatles
Day 26 - A random song by your favorite band
Golden Frost - The Brian Jonestown Massacre
Life Speeds Up - The Church
Bittersweet Me - REM
Day 27 - A song you make fun of
Triple J’s Hottest 100
Day 28 - A song that reminds you of your boyfriend/girlfriend (if you don’t have one, make one up :])
Almost With You, The Church
Day 29- A song currently stuck in your head
The National Anthem, Radiohead
Day 30- A song that you haven’t listened to in awhile
Paycheques, By Tex, Don and Charlie
what forces me to go on?
history?
memory?
no matter where i am
where i run
i come back to me
solitude
attitude
life will do, i guess
if i must
spend my time saying
“i don’t know”
life is pain
but do it again
i saw a tv commercial today
im going to buy a mobile phone
and then be an artist
i see a loving young couple
kiss, hug, goodbye
at the train station
- and i just imagine them fucking
think with your head
not with your past
- and fuck from the soul
saying “it’s on my bucket list”
amounts to nothing
we all function on
require
need
and desire
positive vibes
more than we
think
believe
realise
we do
poem inspired by iggy:
there shouldn’t be any reason to rebel
though it is forced upon us
by those who actually believe power is money
that power is meaningful, impressive
that money is success
that success is impressive
i would be quite happy
as the last man on earth
all shit stems from being around other people
nutella tacos, for fucks sake
couples out for dinner with their phones
as an entre, and dessert
alone i would just wonder
place to place
thought to thought
feeling good
sleeping well
getting old
and celebrating the end of human kind
at peace
with no reason to rebel
if i can take the love i felt throughout my life into my death
i will die a happy man
im happy on the fringe of the fringe
i dont particularly like the saxaphone
yet, it appears on so many of my favourite albums
freak outs, mostly
i think i only like the saxaphone
when it sounds like it’s
played rough and wild
as though it’s being fucked by rock and roll
just like i am
i should;ve known it would take something a little like death to get me here again - something like death to get me to stop writing and thinking about my two year old daughter, and boring everyone with my thoughts of profound parental emotions - do i look like a viral blogging mother to you? - that would be the easy way, to become a blogging mother - you just write about all the bullshit that comes with being a parent, and then talk about sex and say fuck from time to time
i’ve been reading a lot of ellroy - what a man, and a phenomenal writer - i saw a twenty-second piece online where he is ripping into bukowski dismissing him as a misogynous alcoholic with a tight street intelligence - i love the way he calls his readers “pimps, perverts, panty-sniffers, peepers…” etc, etc
every waking hour for the last month ive spent listening to true crime pod-casts - there is no fucking limits to those guys - ive suffered some significant truma by listening to them, and intend on throwing some money to a few charities to cleanse this dirty feeling some of them have thrown at me - there have been moments where ive been sitting on a train actually listening to the sounds of someone getting murdered while the fat bald man next to me plays candy-crush - and they ask why i wear black and sunglasses…
a friend i never see any more had a death in the family, and our relationship, though quiet and distant, is strong - first thought best thought leads me to an image of some of that thick rope you find on ships from the 1700’s - worn, creaking, organic, wet, salty, useful, and built to last a lifetime - i threw him some short words, and he came back to me with some music - im blasting that music loud this morning with a wet, creaking, organic beer with my friend in my thoughts
the grey bonds tishirt and blue jeans im wearing right now makes me think i like i look like mathew butler - i texted him recently about the new stones album - it’s all-out blues, in the same vein as exile, but this one is all covers - doesn’t bother me, i’ve ready keith’s bio and im pretty sure i’ll buy this album - a part of me wonders if i texted butler because i wanted to know his thoughts on the new stones album, or i just wanted to use my new mobile phone - doesn’t really matter, i guess
i posted a photo of my daughter on facebook last night, and i thought to myself, “anyone who doesn’t like this photo is a terrorist” - i didn’t mean it of course, but i think things like that just to make myself laugh from time to time - my daughter makes me laugh a lot
i ordered a pub meal at the bar a couple of nights ago - i asked the staff how hot the “extremely hot don’t eat this” item on the menu was - they said some people can eat it without flinching, others end up in tears - i said since im here drinking alone, i don’t want to end up in tears, and so i ordered a lentil dish instead - they laughed and said “there is nothing wrong with drinking and crying alone” - of course i know this, however it enjoyed hearing them say it
my neighbours have been talking about my front lawn, and how it is getting a little feral - the previous owners of my house kept the garden pretty spic - it’s out of beautiful laziness, and my priorities leaning towards running, drinking, reading, and chilling with zed and lady-elle, that leave the lawn and garden untended - i find myself hassling myself about it though, which doesn’t sit nicely - i think about patti smith and how she let her garden grow wild and feral, and i think about how she is one of my favourite writers, and so fuck that - let the weeds grow
the weekend is ahead of me, and i really don’t have much to do - two places at once by the church is blasting, and i feel a deep love for the brotherhood between kilbey and wilson-piper - i read once that WP dragged SK through an acoustic tour of the US while he was in the middle of his addiction - stuff like that keeps my bony body warm
maybe i’ll just spend this weekend hugging and wrestling zed, and lady-elle - i’ll drink beer, we’ll eat dumplings in box hill - i’ll think of my life as simple and short - i’ll think about my death, as i like to do - i’ll watch the trees outside this window, and think about the interview i saw with moby, and how he likes to do the same apparently - just watch a tree - funny to think how we mostly ignore them - they are alive - dancing too - always moving and growing
im listening to diesel and dust - it’s a great saturday morning album - was it intended for a sunny morning in the eastern suburbs? - i put it on as i saw peter play a twilight dusk gig at the zoo - super mellow evening - picnic rugs and cheese and wine and mysterious dips - i looked around and it seemed people came to simply rest, or even sleep - he played his solo material along with some covers (an amazing song by chrissy amphlette i’d never heard before), but what was really amazing was when he and his band played the dead heart, and everyone, one by one, stood to their feet - rose from the picnic rug comforts, and almost saluted this amazing song, and quietly sang along - it was anthemic, to say the least - those songs mean so much to this country, and to so many of this country’s switched on boozers and night-freaks
the night before i saw nick cave and the bad seeds play again - i sat in my first class seat in awe - it was a perfect example as to why i never really took up writing reviews - shows like that make you feel so much of the unexplainable, it’s fruitless trying to write it down and share it with anyone who wasn’t there - it just feels stupid
office worker locks the toilet cubicle door
and stops
for a breath of fresh air
sunday evening bus -
am i the most depressed person
under these yellow lights?
murder, sex and disillusioned power
i’ve read this newspaper before
in another life, i dream of
strobe sun-light
as the train speeds
in and out of the trees
she looks beautiful
in the jeans
that have been lying on the lounge room floor all week