davey dreamnation

seething since 2001

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Category: Honey Power

“Honey Power” is the name of a song by My Bloody Valentine, from their Tremolo EP. A few years ago I started writing some poems based on early-nineties shoegazer music, a project which has now evolved in a more general music direction.

Women Live at Paradiso

eyes radar green / 

      the drummer kicks 

it in & (s)he spills her 

beer \

meanwhile        onstage               & as i hit record 

        in paradiso birds 


like a light show 

       unsafe            for epileptics               

                                                 i'd describe it as 

         black & white music 

grainy        d-tuned 

                                        & free as a whip! 


for the deaf           i'd describe it as


i have no                  


                                  words - 



American Creek: E II

Leaves that flicker at the years
returning the reserve to jungle;
the owls too return, & headlights
prowl the perimeters of suburban
lawns. Letting out a yearn I hit
the back fence with my hind legs,
shovelling out an escape hatch to
nowhere. Nothing but the tree dark

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Adam Fieled: When You Bit

I read this book while travelling first class on a train from Stockholm to Gavle in Sweden last month but that’s another story. At seventy-odd pages, When You Bit (OTOLITHS, 2008) is a good hour’s read, if you pace yourself properly.

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Cordite 28.1 MULLOWAY

It tickles me pink to announce that MULLOWAY, Cordite’s tribute to the poetry of Robert Adamson, is now online!

Join our guest editor Greg McLaren as he navigates the river of Adamson’s poetry, with new work by John Tranter, Kate Fagan, joanne burns, Stuart Cooke, Adam Aitken, Adrian Wiggins, James Stuart and the mysterious Albert Adamson, Chris de Adamson and Golda Finch.

Get thee to the index page today!

Cordite 28.1: Mulloway online October 2008


The summer of 1981 comes like a scene change and I’m lying on my back in the middle of a montage, flat out on the concrete listening to that tape. The hot wind coming off the river is laden with moisture that beads on my upper lip, and crawls from my armpits all the way over my shoulders to my neck.

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When Billy Corgan Had Hair

you were only ten years old when billy corgan had hair. & you
know, i can barely remember that time myself – it’s as if i was
never actually there oh but i was at selina’s in coogee where
billy corgan had lots of hair & he screamed & yodelled & shook
his mane of greasy sweaty hair (he had hair. & so did almost
everyone else who was there so what? so what if he had hair
or had no hair? at least i can say i was there at the time unlike
the many people who weren’t there when billy corgan had hair
the ones who couldn’t get tickets or hadn’t been born or were
too ashamed to go out because they had no hair & billy’s hair
made them wish they still had some (i kind of liked it you know
billy corgan’s hair it was almost demonic yes i guess that was
the whole point that nasal whine & frenetic guitar style of his
coupled with the long locks of hair well who wouldn’t want to
look like that on stage who wouldn’t shake those locks of hair
in the face of their fellow band mates mockingly showing the
crowd his hair as if to say I’m billy corgan & i’ve got hair! look
at billy corgan’s hair! (he had hair okay so you probably don’t
remember it at all & in fact maybe he never actually had hair
in the first place maybe the wig that britney put on had first
been worn by billy corgan in the nineteen-nineties just so he
could demonstrate the falsity of the rumours about how he
had no hair (couldn’t sing & was also crap at playing guitar –
personally i prefer to believe that his hair was once real (in
the same way that baby boomers like to believe that things
were better when they were younger (i don’t see that as a
trait that’s exclusive to them i mean look at billy corgan with
no hair today the exact inversion of his former self (the one
who had hair when billy corgan had hair we were all so much
younger than we have since become balder older & yes even
worse at playing guitar writing killer pop songs & maintaining
the rage i like the fact that he went from long locks directly
to chrome dome without pausing to comb over or pretend
that he wasn’t losing it i like the element there of flipping the
bird at his old age (see however my earlier comments casting
doubt on the authenticity of billy’s original hair perhaps we’ll
never know the full truth of the origins of billy corgan’s hair
but at least i can say i was there when it looked like he had
some & that’s not to denigrate anyone who wasn’t there (he
had hair this much is clear what i don’t understand is where
that hair went you know the way it disappeared so suddenly
quietly without a whimper & was it an arcane ceremony that
day when billy looked in the mirror & saw his receding starlife
& just went (damn! & grabbed the nearest razor blade & just
shaved it straight off (did he chuck those clumps of hair in a
bin or is there a wig somewhere made from billy corgan’s hair?
i’d like to find that wig one day & buy it just for you just so
you could say that (okay maybe you weren’t there when billy
had hair but so what (now you’re wearing it & we’re still here

The Fall Reunion

a lot of empty places at these tables here-ah
our drummer jumped off the brighton pier (ha
count me in with the beats mark e smith (ta
dah! screw my lightbulb honey brat sonically
sophisticated buy a round of drinks-ah sorry
your services no longer etc … squizzle! boss
says “random quote generator” live at which
trials? ah (gots me gigs in sheffield-ah (brits
in penzance costumes ringleader-ah (as tour
bus tourist reunions go this one’s the bits-ah
for services to etc (timelines like bronze age
villages filled with squizzle (pints are … free
at synthesiser auditions forthcoming US lucre
so i say i mean why are people grudgeful? ah …

Honey Power

over there where you’re laying down
down amongst the styrofoam cups &
album cover broken glass bra straps
honey power coming all over me me
& you with your oh fantastic english
got me high & left me there stranger
with a honey tongue warm between
the vinyl EPs wet beneath the stylus
rooms in which to shudder awake on
busy streets we mistook for england
first time & forever in a dark carpark
then i exited from the passenger side
smoking our enemies (drunk on power
honey pixel closer now hold my flower


he bites into the apple eats the bruises
soft & brown like sugary endings (rayon
bites the bruises cuts them clean out &
spits the skin onto the crusty pavement
sucks the bruises (swallows them whole
into the apple of his insides & scratches
& bruises yes just there soft like blisters
just beneath the green skin (leaves like
green canadian flags covered in bruises
fresh & rotten undermined & cleaned he
ate the bruises popped nectary blisters
felt the juice of bruises coming down his
chin (drop everything pavement colours
bruises left to rot (the mapled manholes

Sich Öffnen

(open! all hours in a million states 
/ face facts we're broken / up to 
our necks in technicalities! --->
smitten! by sunny smiles & hazy 
sprays / we prayed for endings /
we prayed for endings yes & for 
gamma rays! poetry is relative! 
at least it's relatively cheap / so 
strap yourself on don't disappoint 
me when the future leaves! --->
... we'll drop a bomb upon ourselves
& rip the snails from all the shells /
i've had a vision of their truths &
now i'm drowning in 100% proof ...
(a-oooh, ooh!) (a-oooh, ooh!) --->
(overloaded! we've had too much 
& now it's time / believing bullshit /
that kind of bullshit it makes us all
second-rate! ---> (in a hole! one we 
have dug here for ourselves / it's 
time to STFU / just STFU while you 
still have the chance! (organise your 
funerals / coz nobody one else will 
really care (about the little details / 
what are your mothers doing here? 
watched you write / watched you 
fight / i'll watch youse fade away 
(a-oooh, ooh!) (a-oooh, ooh!) --->
watched you breathe / i heard you 
leave / i cried for several days (ah-
oooh, ooh!) --> now for the bridge!
(a-oooh, ooh!) ---> another bridge!
(a-oooh, ooh!) ---> (repeat: OPEN!
open for several hours & then not /
i wish you peace & / nothing spoken
nothing else left out / if you insisted!
i'd make a case for growing old / but
you're so twisted / i can't be arsed &
so - auf wiedersehen! (a-oooh, ooh!) 
---> (a-oooh, ooh!) ---> (a-oooh --->
ooh!) ---> (a-oooh, ooh!) ---> & you 
fade (a-oooh, ooh!) ---> & fade & --->
fade away (a-oooh, ooh!) ------->

chmod r-w-x


she changed mode from mod to journo
helsinki bound on a sleigh west of NO!
bottle-blonde furies stalking XY stage
shaken three-piece tour posters blur


lyrics in crayon lying dead in a field
frozen shut her eyebrow raised when
she plays my ipod says NO WA(VE)Y!
like sue me helsinki! (art school’s ok


showcase tiny amounts of WWII flak –
trigger spirals morph blow waves NY!
like why WAY! when you can say GO!
that’s what they call love of diagrams

And we attacked the world and it worked

two hearts rushing into the freaky world
busted compromised lonely to be pitied –
smashed our glasses & instead went blind
no way back thrashed beaten or overcome†

& so we attacked the world & it worked –
put our divisions into place & attacked
attacked their betrayals & coded silence
coded our response to meet unmet demands

why do you do what you do you dead people
& why do you bother learning to scream –
or even to fly (you know how that’s okay
but what the fuck’s your problem anyway?

two hearts thrashing at the stolen world
& so we attacked the truth & it exploded
fine by us we said here’s another radio –
scorned by some ubiquitous social scenes

driven like a bus through horizontal snow
they turned up a heater instead of an amp
& so we attacked each other & it worked –
flew into flight plans destined for death

we attacked the dead & they said nothing –
attacked attacked & thrashed against poles
tore down maps trudged through wrongs ways
now the seasons crawl like stupid traffic

& the crows find food even in plastic bags
attacked attacked (i can’t find your lips
maybe you just needed to cry rivers drains
two hearts pushing into the freaky stream –

attacked the line attacked each other till
the emptiness of forever the brittle calls
the studded avenues of mistakes brawling –
we attacked the world & it fucking worked


bob mould’s screaming eight miles high
can you feel his sheets of pain inside yer
headphones boy take notes & duplicate
on yer long walks home through those
graveyards in yer long coat there’s that
crow he’s eating all yer dead mix-tapes
feature angry men & the odd soft-rock
stooge eg john cougar’s song scarecrow
that’s the sound of yer stadium funeral
furious bic lighters melt in unison only
stinking out the stands forcing another
evacuation pathetic really listen to yer
idol bob mould screaming eight miles
high he’s not coming down (off speed
apparently that was his problem not to
mention homophobia eight (gay miles
high & he’s not going back! inside that
electric closet now it’s our fathers who
take the pills that were meant for the
likes of bob dressed in his incendiary
black you’ll come around to this way
of thinking some day come hell’s high
water mark eight miles high the flood
of fuel for bob’s maniacal fire screams
eight miles high fucked if I’m coming!
fuck you sixty eight miles fucking high
& it’s too late to come down now we’re
in outer space bob we’re still alive how
i scream six hundred & sixty six miles
higher than I’ve ever been higher than
rainy crow grey streets of down town
known for that sad sound never touch
down bob taking me six thousand six
hundred & sixty six point eight miles
beyond darkness at the edges of town
& nowhere is yer warmth to be found
in a stadium’s steel glare fans remain
there laughing at yer shapeless forms
fucking hair metal sidewalk scenes &
headjobs in black limousines we’re all
living bob & we’re all standing alone
higher than the sun or even the byrds!


what happened to you boy the future
seemed too mad for some you were a
notorious phenomenon spoken of by
girls in reverent drools weird kind of
pop star heard of back in high school
if some girls said you were cool then
you were & while I could easily sneer
& pretend I knew you personally the
fact remains that you were out there
doing what you wanted to (whether
on stage or in the recording studios
but it was your habit of returning to
that tour bus each night after those
erratic performances (this clinched
it no one understands the pain not
even you it’s that trusted four track
on which you’d lay down metallic &
magnetic loops never to be heard by
any record company a confused fan
even the file-trading fiends & their
relatives those parasitic journalists
you saw horns coming out of their
heads & wished the in-stores could
be re-scheduled I guess the third &
fourth albums may be sadder affairs
compared with the highly-evolved
winning days you’ve shown us all
how high you can fly how low you
fell (you’ll strike a chord for three
more death-defying minutes then
disappear completely just the way
you were supposed to jilting fame
throwing those stars back in their
small faces the last entries in your
missing tour diary reveal the bad
hours between gods leading up to
that weirdest decision the boot in
the heads of those whose support
you still need & whose dismissals
count for everything in this fickle
game you knew the rules & bowed
out sad screaming leave me alone
& for once this spiteful world did

speed garage

look back on wires guitars in anger
they painted their own ruby jubilee

shooting up three chords obliviously
jet ski parts animated stripey tees

a line a line a line a lines realign
calling a verdant copse thalidomide

smash hits mixed in boy band salads
the sweats the threats the hot jets

if musics not the drug then what is
speed garage for all youse crashers

(invasion of the mindless spam robot
junky stubbles the new mind babble)

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