I favour the deep, impenetrable truth of the jungle
Over the smooth ride over sleek black rubber;
The *****, disturbing, demented disorder;
The distortions of the lights we bathe on,
Over outward alignments and the staleness of systems.

I favour the cheap, rugged, bittersweet taste
Of a late night's substandard drink,
In the midst of true lights and shadows
And the uncertainty they cast upon us,
Over the orderly and satisfactory--
The dead pleasures and securities that
Exist nowhere but in feeble projections.

I favour the basic, primeval, animal grunt--
The dirt, the dizziness of true treading
Across the muddy shallows--,
Over the clattering of an overflowed,
Certain mind.

I favour doubt, earnest doubt,
Unpalatable doubt, inescapable doubt--
A smile in a pitch-black room,
A journey on a lukewarm air balloon,
A half-finished sentence in a half-serious gloom--,
Over hasty conclusions and tainted allusions.

I favour the endearing messiness of reality;
The chaos of light and dreams;
The mystery, so out of reach,
Of you and me and the space in-between;
The stained, torn, shattered, burnt,
Twisted texture we find ourselves upon,
Over the smooth, marble-white,
Sterile surface where false certainties
Slide, grinning, before they find themselves
On an impending collision with the infectious hesitation of the ground.

I favour the acknowledging look
Straight into the eye;
A ladder with one step;
A race with no competitors;
A contentment without resentment;
A bread on your table that's good enough,
That doesn't tease you and promise you more,
And more,
And more,
So that you forget what you should really care for,
What lies deep under your skin,
What stirs up the dormant contents of your guts--
You climb to the hilltop
Which finally allows you to have
A peek at the next one.

I favour uncertainty and risk,
And walking too close to the edge;
I favour barely enough,
And cutting it too close;
I favour throwing all excess over the board,
And lowering standards;
I favour the taste of imminent failure
And the adrenaline of a heart-wakening sprint;
I favour meagre means
And big dreams, free of currencies;
For they all remind me what the world
Really looks like,
Who I really am,
And what the winter-night winds
Really feel like.

I favour the ways of nature, often erratic,
*****, ugly and convoluted,
Often dumbfounding,
Unintentionally intelligent and mysterious,
Over the ways of fear-ridden constructions,
For there is no such thing
As a straight line.

Your tread has become dreary,
Heavy and weary;
You have forgotten why you walk.
Long ago,
You stepped on your once innocent, Brightly burning wick,
Obliviously,
Until it was out,
Cold and buried,
Many feet underneath the dull landscape
You now walk across.

You have forgotten how to see;
Your eyes have sunk
Into the recesses of your thoughts.
They jump from light to light,
Like a frantic moth,
Following instincts yet unaware
Of its own light,
Its senses hammered
By its impulses.

You taste only extremes,
Overindulge in fanciful delights;
Your tongue gets drunk,
Then passes out,
Your mind convinced it has tasted
Satisfaction
And nothing more can be
Or is required.

You have forgotten yourself,
Your colourful visions,
Your raw sensations,
Your honest perceptions.
You have forgotten your
Uncontaminated,
Uncorrupted,
Uninfluenced yearnings.
The clouds that once beckoned you,
Taking your mind for a spin
With an outpour of
Tingling excitement,
Have come to symbolise
The nondescript background
Against which your silent struggle
Unfolds into
Nothing in particular.

A trillion hazy days
Of holding yourself back
Unworthiness grips tightly
And pulls you out of track

You're glued to your concerns
You melt away through time
You look through shattered windows
Your tongue too tired to rhyme

There's nothing to being human
Just give yourself a try
We're all apes trying to reach
Out for a chance to shine

You blend into the pebbles
Of conquests and defeat
When none of them do matter
You'll join the joyful fleet

Time is like blood, running through my veins
It's like the ocean floor on a moonless night
It's there
But not quite

Every morning I interrogate the clouds
I run my fingers through my thoughts
I dip my toes in the crater of an active volcano
And try to grapple with the idea
Of running through the valley
Deaf and dumb
Head first into a wall

Every afternoon I dig out some tree roots
Tie them together and make them promise me
They'll stay like that, hand by hand,
Like a gleeful band, forever
And I watch them twirl
I seek refuge in the shade of a mountain,
Pretend I climb it with my arms stretched out
Fingers running through its edge
Full of silly conviction

Every night I settle down, take a break
From all the birds, germs and pachyderms
I bury my head under a beehive
Close my eyes, dream of honey,
Look for a key I never lost and
Open a door that's not there
Leading to a sweet world of merry moments
To the midday song of
The bird of tomorrow, where
All ideas, colours and shapes
Erupt in a boisterous reverie
Of mellow madness
And I watch
Placidly

I lost my dream
In the haziness of night-time.
It never was too bright,
So finding it
I never might.
It was strange,
Unfounded and confounded,
And it changed
While I wrapped my arms around it.

I lost my dream
But gained a glimpse
Into something real
That had been concealed;
A beauty so ordinary
And an ordinariness so beautiful,
A beauty in the ordinary
And an ordinariness in the beautiful.

I lost my dream
In the peculiar tunnel
Of a sleepless night.
And though I yearn for something
Beyond my walls,
I breathe peaceful colours
While I calmy stall.

How can there be
A ******* universe?
Look around you,
Touch something with your fingertips.
What the hell is this?
How is it that there is anything?
How is it that anything is happening
At all?

How can there be
A ******* universe
Which perceives itself
Through the eyes of a human?
Which questions how it began
Through the mind of a mammal?
Which ponders why it is here
Through the words of an ape?

Is there anyone else in town?
Where are all the loons
Freaking out
Over the existence of existence?
How come it doesn't happen
Every moment
Every day?

How can there be
A ******* universe?
And if there weren't one
How could there not be one?
Not be where?

Pondering,
However,
Can't go
Forever;
My coffee is ready
And my mind's
Getting steady.

You turn around,
You call my name
But I no longer believe the same;
There's paper stacked upon your window pane.

The clocks are worn,
My boots are torn,
They've come some way since they were born
And things that shine often do not conform.

A whisper here
Is a thunder there,
A glass of wine to lay it bare;
Don't tell me silence dwells behind that stare.

You don't run fast
Because you must;
It's fine to break out from your crust
And build a smile that's free from all your lust.

We're far apart
But all the same;
Forget the shapes and forms and blame
And you will see we walk down the same lane.

I walk through eyes
So close and distant
Depending on how long the instant;
Some grow warm while others grow resistant.

I never sat down and wrote a song
All I've ever done
Is bame myself
For what's gone wrong

I never sat down and told a lie
All I've ever done
Is eat the truth
That pushed me aside

I never sat down and shed my heart
All I've ever done
Is look away
And press restart

I never sat down and drew a mind
All I've ever done
Is search in vain
For what's not mine

Today I sit down and tell the truth
There's no one in my room
Besides my own self

Love life, love the world,
for it is all you have.
Love the stars, and the people,
and the breeze and the rain,
and the reflection
of the lights on the water.

Love because you exist.
Love because you can read this,
because you live in a time
that will one day be thought of
as romantic and golden.

Love because you won't be forever.
Love because
everything is impermanent,
because this day will end,
and never
be visited again.

Love because all we have is enough,
and because
nothing we can imagine
can match it.

Love because there are others
you share the world with,
who love too.

Love the night,
the silence,
the shadow of the trees by the water.
Love the imminence of dawn,
and of things someday gone.

Love the light of a candle
and the warmth
of the earnest conversation lit by it.

Love the joy of sharing the world
with other beings as troubled
but as sensitive to beauty and love
as you are.
Love nature's gentle rattle,
and its tempestuous outbreaks.

Love because you are all
you will ever be,
and life is immense
and beautiful, even in its darkness, and it is yours.

I float through that old worn orchard
Memories heavy in my mind
Like a seagull seeking land
When a storm lurks from behind

There are places I never really left
A slice of my heart slips
Through the cracks of my chest
And it blends with the dirt
Where it seldom gets rest

I float through my dreams
Half awake, half awake
For a moment I am lost
Swept by tears
Snared by ghosts

A towel, a cup, a wall
An element of twisted control
There was dirt
In that ancient weary home
But a songbird
Crept into my chest
Shook me softly
And built there a nest

How many colours fit in your hand?
Is this a question you'd understand?
How many palm trees obey your command?
Unless you are dreaming, I'd dare to say none.

How can a word go swimming in land?
That makes less sense than a musicless band.
Lightly drawn bridges, which taste naught but bland.
Don't trust your own words, unless they are fun.

A desert will bake you with deafening sand,
As much as a cloud will make you less tanned.
That's more than a cockroach could ever withstand.
The words on your tongue would melt in the sun.

Red, green, red, green
He treads to the pace
Of a heartless machine

Black, white, black, white
Her thoughts neatly fall
Into holes of delight

Grey, brown, grey, brown
They sink in the snow
By the weight of a noun

No one can save me
I'm cornered, anxious
The clock is
Beating along
My racing heart

No one can save me,
My pillow is rugged
The window
Keeps the prairy world
From flooding in

No one can save me,
I'm hesitant, indignant
But I'm determined
No one can save me,
But me

Blue traces of lost places
Will carry me through

Black clouds above dark crowds
Their thunder unpack

White visions of drowned collisions
Set old dreams in flight

I'll keep these words behind my tongue,
Hard as it may be;
For they are bluntly trying
To scrape their way up
And join this November wind,
Loud as a falling castle.

I never saw that golden bird
far above, free and wild
all I saw was dirt
disorienting, inexpressive
holding onto everything and anything
that had lost its will to keep going

and some kept going, against the grain
against the shadows and the pages of their books
some shouted out not their thoughts
not their memories
not their knowledge
they screamed out in happy agony the world itself
as it revealed its character in their minds

on the other side of the wallowing horizon
lies a quiet storm
with gusts of wind that twist and spin
the confines of your home
unrelenting, the claws fall upon you
and your mind can but forget its theories
of how it all came to be
so nothing remains but an unshattered window
across which the colours whisper their dreams
of how it all seems
through a silent
truthful beam