UNCOLLECTED, Poems By Steve Kilbey







‘The Time Being’ brings you ‘Uncollected’ by Steve Kilbey. A deluxe edition of his books – Earthed, Nineveh, The Ephemeron, Fruit Machine and other selected works, all in one neat and tidy volume. All copies order through us will be signed by SK.

Once upon a time steve kilbey lived in Mansfield St, Rozelle (Sydney Australia) in an old terrace house. It was 1986, he would sit around in his kitchen banging out poetry. He wanted a poetry book because that’s what popstars did that had done everything else, they released a poetry book or two. Dylan, Bolan, Lennon… if it was good enough for them, then it was good enough for him.

203mm x 133mm

420 pages

Gloss cover

Black text on crème interior

Earthed, 1986 – Steve Kilbey

Nineveh & The Ephemeron, 1999 – Steve Kilbey/Erskine Music & Word

Fruit Machine, 2007 – Steve Kilbey

Uncollected, 1986-2013 – Steve Kilbey

Cover Painting by Steve Kilbey

Edited by Steve Kilbey, Graham Nunn and Samantha Mayfair

Typography and Design by Samantha Mayfair

A record of this book is held at the National Library of Australia.
ISBN 978-0-646-90398-9



Also available through the following retailers, or as special order through your favourite store using the SKU and ISBN.


SKU: 0646903985


ISBN: 9780646903989
Publisher:  6075049  The Time Being
Title:  Uncollected


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appetite for creation by steve kilbey

appetite for creation
by steve kilbey

Steve Kilbey
Steve Kilbey

saint steven shot with light

unfathomable ineffable god

needed some cat to dig some parts of his creation

that no one was picking up on and so he created me

he chucked me together nearly sixty years ago

and he said to me as he has always said to me

my man look at all this stuff !

and true enough with just the thinnest skin that is bearable

i have drunk deep of his creation

and verily i am staggering in amazement

did he realise….?

that he had imbued me with my own tiny propensity for creation

as part of him i strive to be like him

as a drop of water is to the sea

i have all of his propensities but in childish minuscule proportions

i cannot create worlds

so i create worlds within music and words and art

yes tangible worlds i weave according to my various ways

which are all laughable compared to my god

but still i am driven on to do this stuff

therefore i reaffirm my abhorrence of dissonance and ugliness

i scorn noise drivel gossip horror foulness stupidity in art

i cannot abide entertainment whose central theme is murder

not the detection of it

or the act of it

or the irony of it

or the apprehension n punishment of it

why would i sully my mind with this nonsense?

crime is crime

i find no entertainment in violence or killing

cops and robbers cowboys and indians goodies n baddies

what rubbish!

give me ecstatic confirmation of life

give me beauty give me radiance give me mastery

give me sadness yes but not misery

i reject miserable art

i reject art that is only angry

i reject political art ; it finds no place in my heart

i reject art with any agenda

unless its agenda be astonishment poignancy or love

i reject ugly bawling voices and ignorant words

i reject unoriginality

i reject the slaughter of innocent animals

thou shalt not kill!

did i fucking stutter?

therefore i reject war and i reject the slaughterhouse

i reject the paltry reasons proffered for them

i marvel at my gods creation

which stems not from such embarrassing notions

as the garden of eden or big bang/evolution

both so quaint and parochial

that if there is a future they will wonder at our naivete

or the idiots who thought it must be one or the other

my god is so sublime he cannot be explained by me

except to say he just IS

he is n he was n he always will be

hes a she if you like or not for who can tell?

i am limited by words

and our clumsy words

are like trying to paint a ravishing nude

with a coin on a concrete wall

we do not have the words

we do not have the minds

so i do what i do

i can only hint at it

he is my god but he is not a tame god

he does not appear in test tubes

he does not fit in some stupid old mistranslated book

i am more in contact with god than a thousand popes

for what have they created but misery strife inquisitions and complicity in pain

i reject your ritual and pomp and money

i promise you karma is waiting patiently on popes and ayatollahs that preach war

or teachers of scriptures that cast women in a bad light

because i have observed women to be the crown of creation on this world

but a lion or a lark would disagree

for the females of each species are surely beautiful accordingly

all creatures have a right to live and love

who are we to judge which may live and which may die?

who are you to tell me the god given weed i so love is wrong?

tell me did vishnu make a mistake when he created marijuana or DMT?

is the poppy or the coca leaf evil or the wonderful vine which is ayahuasca ?

is the mushroom or the cactus button an error made by god

because some warmongering profiteering WASP prick says so?


i reject their jurisdiction over my consciousness

the vegetal world was created by our loving god for us to use and discover

yes there are dangers

there are dangers in climbing his mountains

and swimming in his rivers too

so what?!

i reject destruction

i reject morbidity

i reject entertainment featuring autopsies and suchlike

i reject death metal and songs about putrefaction

i reject rap for its brutal boring misogynistic tediousness

i reject blokes drinking booze and screaming at sport on tvs in bars

i reject royal families

and ponces decorated with medals for wars they never fight in

i reject generals

and presidents who send others to death but never fight themselves

i reject barbeques

i reject cigarettes and alcohol which numb and sicken us

i reject the makers of such things growing fat on our misery

i reject countries that assassinate their own leaders

and stage phoney attacks to provoke more wars

i reject the prison industry and the caging of people

i reject the caging of birds too or anything unnecessarily

i reject hunting

i reject napoleon i reject hitler i reject bush

i embrace jesus i embrace krishna i embrace john lennon

i embrace dali i embrace picasso i embrace leonardo

i embrace poor vincent van go go

i embrace magic i reject horseracing

i embrace music i reject noise

i reject fun i embrace wonder

i reject pubs and casinos

i embrace yoga and greek myths

i embrace buddha i embrace shiva i embrace st francis of assisi

i embrace gandhi i embrace suu kyi

i am for creation

i am for the intangible the inexorable the inevitable

my songs are about spirit

my poems are about spirit

my paintings are about spirit

my bass playing is about spirit

my voice is about spirit

my daughters are about spirit

and my spirit

is about my god

and everything good i have ever done

comes from god

via spirit

so start here:

never ever eat meat!


Poems By Steve Kilbey

Listed below are the haunting words of Steve Kilbey. Many are familiar with his lyrics and music, but now, we are given intro to the intricate meanderings of his thoughts in prose. As the Church has always brought us soul-aching music then here we are witness to the darker side of humanity as only Kilbey can portray. There is a shallowness in every soul and a dark recess to every mind. In so few words and in so many words, Kilbey evokes powerful images of haunted and tormented agony, and of the utter irony of it all . To look upon ourselves and others and see the sadness and the joy which dwells in every breast. To feel the madness and to laugh at the hypocrisy of the world. That which we sense every day and ignore, Kilbey brings our world and the world of our subconcious to bearing in his stirring poetry

Poems By Steve Kilbey

Profiles: Steve Kilbey~Musician, Poet & Painter

Steve Kilbey


Steve Kilbey (born 13 September 1954, Welwyn Garden City, England) is the lead singer-songwriter and bass guitarist for The Church, an Australian rock band. He is also a music producer, poet, and painter.Steve Kilbey 

Kilbey began his professional music career at age 17 when he joined a “cabaret band”. He then joined Precious Little, a rock band featuring future Church bandmate Peter Koppes on drums. Kilbey followed up with another band, Baby Grande, around 1978 while he lived in Canberra. Soon after, he formed The Church along with Koppes, Nick Ward, and Marty Willson-Piper.   After some success in their native Australia in the early 1980s, Kilbey and The Church went on to international fame when “Under the Milky Way” (from their 1988 album Starfish) became a hit.

Kilbey has released six solo music albums and collaboratively written and/or produced recordings with the late Grant McLennan (of The Go-Betweens), Stephen Cummings, and Kev Carmody. Earthed, a book of fiction, was published in 1986, in conjunction with an album of the same name of instrumental electronic music. His book of poetry, Nineveh/The Ephemeron, was released in 1998 and was later republished.

Kilbey lives in Bondi, a suburb of Sydney, Australia, with his wife and three of his five children.  His brothers, Russell Kilbey and John Kilbey, have also led successful Australian bands.  

A biography of Steve Kilbey titled No Certainty Attached was released in June 2009 by Verse Chorus Press. Also in June 2009, an album with Martin Kennedy (from All India Radio) called Unseen Music, Unheard Words was released. Kilbey’s first solo record in eight years, entitled Painkiller was released in North America on Second Motion Records in early 2009.

~ Wikipedia


rocknroll gave god to you

the light still pours out of me

the need to experience everything

the most sacred place the most dirty place

the place that is no place at all

the emptiest place where the soul stripped bare of skins

and  hardly recognisable  to that naked  i

they have sold you a lie brothers and sisters

and the rock and the roll is a path to that lies heart

ladies and gentlemen is it not best that we rock and rock on?

i strap on my plank with wires but its a stradivarius of a plank

boom boom boom my amplified notes that have busted my ears

i am an old soldier still fighting in his legion

my sword is my music

my arrows are my words

my integrity is my shield

my failures and mistakes scar me but i fight on

such a grandiose metaphor  such is rocknroll

you can be high n mighty

you can be down and low

you can be gay or junkie or christian or  fool

you can be lovely or ugly or rich or poor

self taught or conservatory it doesnt matter

rock put the power back in all our hands

now we the people can select our heroes

and we choose em from rocknroll because its all we got

you cant trust actors n politicians speaking someone elses lines

you cant trust rocknroll singers either …what the hell do we know?

but rock aint asking for your trust

rock aint asking for your vote

but it is asking for your money

and in return it gives you something

so sublime there is no word to describe it

some revelation some bliss some divine insight

some release of the feeling of love

some excitement some hope some pride some joy

only a few can ever invoke such things and that music we treasure

it brings the holy to even the most heathen of hearts

it sets the scene for an epiphany

it guides you towards a splendid feeling of being in the know

it creates a world for you

each record by the beatles built on and expanded from the last world

the initial solid modern construction would begin to sprout strange new wings

consider “the end” by the doors

who has ever conjured this mood before except maybe arthur rimbaud?

a journey within decadence and failure and random images of dissolution

when its all over you feel like you experienced something, eh?

oh that jimbo quite a poet and those lovely instruments

hear them embellishing and weaving the threads of the story

hear that voice leading you all over the place

through time and nightmare

its a play its a poem its a story its a vision

in this we somehow get glimpses of  the supernatural world

the world inhabited by spirit by the dead by the drugged by the insane

a wild world oh baby baby

there is magic in this world and 3 short cuts

are sex drugs and rocknroll

all three together taken in regular large doses will open up your chakras

or something

the profound shift in any direction away from this dismal reality of here

when i was 16 i worked on a building site as a labourer

for 6 weeks of school holiday one year

at work it was brutal and hard and so male it was disgusting to me

everything was coarse and vulgar and loud and brutal

i got home and my antidote was to enter the world of “a beard of stars”

yeah marc bolan was the opposite of the guys on the site

here was romance and tragedy and strange strange magic

a middle earth set to some mixture of the weirdest rock

these songs seemed dragged from another continuum

where eric claptonesque forms are laid over baroque tapestries

where fey means faery and miracles are materialising

and the love oh my goodness

the love the love the love

bolan is in love with his babe

he is donovan playing romeo playing legolas playing caspian

away from the concrete dust and the muddy carpark and blokes

bolans world opened upon the first note of the record

it was not a world like a book to be explored once maybe twice

it was a world expanding open in breathtaking jumps

the more you listened the more you heard and ditto in reverse

this was not the hamfisted thump of your zeps and purples

nor the grammar school feel of yer yesses n genesises

nor the rebellious strut of the stones

not even the beatles

in all their trailblazing wanderings had hit upon this world

not even druggy not even deliberately weird

bolan had taken rocknroll instruments and techniques

and used them to outpour babylon and greece and narnia and druid

like half remembered books from childhood

with the witches and black cats and its elders and m m m magical moons

and against this backdrop bolan invokes youth and love and an ideal idyll

fuck its not everyones cup of tea

but the marvel is nonetheless that he pulled it off

and it gave me a chance to see the possibility

of reconciling all my favourite things into song

and somehow locking them there to be taken out when needed

i take bolans blueprint and i sometimes reassemble it in my own materials

thats alright thats what its all about

thats the business thats the way it s’posed to be

you take the best stuff and recombine it

thats what we do

thats what you like

~ Steve Kilbey