probably

I probably could have been smarter
or stronger
or braver
But 
at least I know 
I couldn't have tried harder 
or loved you more

Places V: Orcas Island (2005)

On two sequential nights, in two separate cities, I met the same two girls because we were staying in the same two houses with different friends. During a party at the second house, they told me they lived in a park on an island and said that if I wanted to go back with them I could crash in the park bunkhouse for a bit. This sort of thing was more or less normal for me at the time. The next day we woke up early, did some light cleaning, and left for Orcas Island where I was immediately offered a job teaching at an outdoors camp for local schools.

 

If Montreal had psychedelic undertones, Orcas was like stepping straight into a dream. The park encompasses a mountain, several lakes, and is home to swaths of old growth, the eldest of which are upwards of 1,000 years old and 300 feet tall. In their undergrowth, foot long green and brown banana slugs turn dead leaves and wood back into soil, leaving a slimy trail in their wake that is rumored to numb the tongue if licked. In the ancient canopies nested eagles, formidable raptors that stood about three feet tall with a wingspan more than double that. At the peak of the mountain was a four story stone tower and if you climbed up to the top there would often be eagles passing remarkably close by. While exploring I would often come upon small clearings of rocks from old collapses or slides that were completely covered in six to twelve inches of the softest moss. The island was small enough that you could watch the sun both rise and set over an ocean full of sea otters, seals, and all manner of strange tidal creatures and detritus. My dreams there were so vivid, complete with recurring characters and storylines, that I started to journal them.

My coworkers were all decent sorts and we had good times with the kids, leading hikes, searching for weird water bugs, playing games, leading campfire songs. I got to learn and teach cool skills, like how to break the spines of a nettle so that you can eat the leaves raw without being stung, and how to kayak. Since we were fairly isolated and lived together we often hung out in our off time too. Excursions into the quaint little town. Kayaking across the ocean to camp on a deserted island. Visiting the Historic Rosario Hotel to witness Christopher Peacock (or, as one member of our group familiarly referred to him, Chris Peacock) demonstrate his considerable skills on the organ. Or more often, swimming in the lake, making a fire by the lake and getting in trouble the next day for being too loud. We also all purposely flipped our kayaks over in a lake that still had ice on parts of it, although that was actually required by work.

When they left I stayed on to work park maintenance with a small summer crew. Even with the natural beauty and three day weekends to enjoy it, by the end the isolation was getting to me in an unhealthy way. Perhaps it was the primal power of the ancient wilderness, the intense dreams, or the fact that my primary cultural input at the time was Murakami, LeGuin, and Lynch, three artists known for their strange, often dark, outsider takes on reality. Personally, I think it was that the ocean is too powerful for me to ever feel comfortable having it so close to me on all sides. Towards the end of my time there I was told that a local tribe had a story about how a powerful vision was given to a seeker praying at the lake that I was camped next to and how after that it was acknowledged by the tribe that the island was not a place to settle permanently but to visit for spiritual cleansing and guidance. I knew then that it was time to go.

*As previously mentioned, most of the art I made on the road was ritually burned but i did save this poem about my time on the island

the sight of first light 

hitting tree tops

with mountain lake backdrop 

makes me stop

in awe of what i saw 

i draw art with sea stones

'till i'm too tired to bother

then watch the sunset reflect 

off receding sea water

walk through ancient forests 

or run around without shoes

drink and sing songs 

until we're drunk enough to steal canoes

or sit out by the lake 

and listen to the frogs

smoke cigarettes with sage 

and dedicate them to dead gods

watch otters eat fish 

watch deer eat grass

sit by the fire 

'till the logs turn to ash

and when the fires gone 

and the last embers die

we'll fall asleep on the lawn 

looking up at the sky

weightless

In the heavy suffering 
of the nothing 
now surrounds me

I've cowered from 

its absent form

slow approaching

Until it towered

looming large

its vacuum tapestry 

Swallows the sky

devours the dirt

eats up everything

Thrown from the earth

sever the tether

inevitably terrible

Over the edge

lift off and orbit

in cyclical drift

Amidst the dark

stars all gone out

Floating ghostly

Reaching for solidity 

in spinning shadows 

of dusty memory 

These words a new world

carve out a small ledge 

on which I can rest

Wait out the days

until it feels right

amidst what is left

Unimpressive Atlas

The kindness

                        is sometimes
the harder part
Pain at least 
makes sense 
in a world of abject suffering
But if both are possible 
why are we here
instead of there?

It's the distance between the two 
that s t r e t c h e s my heart
I'm left

holding two worlds 

losing my grip on both
A very

unimpressive Atlas

a metaphor for impending loss

There's a cliff in the distance 
and you're going over it whether you want to or not

Typically in this sort of metaphor you're on a train 

or bus

a symbol of a society speeding too fast 

to avoid what's ahead

But in this case you are alone on foot 

and you move much slower

The cliff is below you, you must climb down to it

The scenery is majestic at times 

but traversing the terrain is arduous 

taking your eyes off what you are doing can be 

hazardous

You move down towards it, 

walking, scrambling, slipping,

falling, crawling, climbing

Night comes, you sleep but do not dream

Day comes and you continue down towards the ledge

Rocks and plants

alternately obstacles and aides

Lending a hand then scratching and biting

small wounds easily ignored 

in the exhaustion

It's hard to tell how far away the cliff is

sometimes you can see it in the distance 

and sometimes it is obscured by landscape

You think it's there

but then it's not

This goes on for a long time 

but not forever

Dreams are few

but sometimes 

before you can surrender to sleep 

you wonder what it will feel like to be

weightless

Because whether you want to or not

There's a cliff in the distance 

and you're going over it

the hospital at night

Enter a dark parking garage

through emergency security

A maze of empty halls

filled with dim light

but no people

In their rooms they rest

an uneasy peace

sleep disrupted by beeps

or the drawing of blood

before it vanishes into the night

Sometimes the TV is on

to quiet the silence

and remind about life outside these walls

Sometimes you even laugh

at the antics of the characters on screen

Then it is late and you must go

back to the world beyond

On the way down

large windows become

dark mirrors, reflecting a

tired translucent you

waiting for an eleventh floor elevator

When you get in

there are stains on the floor

try to ignore them

Exit a dark parking garage

a maze of empty streets

filled with dim light

but no people

elemental alchemy

it starts with the heart

the beat produced
made waves in the cave 

full of amniotic juice
fluid taught me properly 

as part of the physical
it represents blood 

shifting cyclical
which symbolize the tides 

as they fall and rise
tied to the moon 

high up in the sky
providing the elliptical 

emotional motions
that move the fluids 

and flow the oceans
in primordial ooze life began
as fish onto sand

water to land
earth to fire 

and fire to sky
we're all going to die 

and nobody knows why
so why sit around grounded 

too terrified to fly?
i compiled body, mind, soul

the goal to mold it

years blast past 

and all i have to show is
this lowly poet 

who's flow is
slunted and drunken
using wind lungs bring 

to sing something
breath collects 

every letter never sent
left forever 

compressed in sediment
with fossil lists intermixed 

i split it with a hammer
sift through the sand 

and shift the grammar
from random ramshackle 

abandoned commandments
hypocritical shit 

that contaminates this planet
to engaged awakening 

replacing wasted dreams
run under sun 

bathe in the stream
but the best intentions 

melt on inspection
in a wrecked mess 

by heckled questions
second guessing 

and unlearned lessons
its a place blame game 

i play scapegoat
with a pack of cards 

and a hat that makes smoke
to cloak the physical

hidden invisible
with camouflaged gods 

twisted and mythical
i'm a little groggy

slept for ages
a bored wasted and shapeless 

restless mess, lets
take form and taste death
one section blessed

paradise manifest
endless seraphs 

nestled in sex
the rest a depth so dark 

no light can pierce it
tyranny and fear 

revealed at their fiercest
ferocious, atrocious 

and i still stay focused
in the humming coming 

from swarms of locusts
insect infested 

hive mentality
with downward spiral 

viral mentality
callously making poor decisions
feeding ambition to televisions
with wisdom and precision 

let's catch what all is missing
a magician in musician

i curse in cursive
nurse a purpose 

plus encourage students
to build a new school 

and this is just the blueprint
for a luminous movement 

of unusual fusions
music produced 

to remove illusions
ignite the light 

you view right through them
i see confused humans 

glued to conclusions
the solution is freedom 

but fools prefer cages
i use refused daemons

refer them as sages
you can drill holes in chaos 

until nothings holy
kill all your friends 

and pretend you're not lonely
stay pinching pennies 

to buy yourself that pony
i cultivate inner space 

and grow from what its shown me
the elliptical orbit 

spans the planets
enhanced advancement 

every time i ran it
now its standard 

expand bandwidth every second
clear direction 

no guessing or questions
less look out below

best rise up and sing
elevate the ape

its time to grow wings
master the spectacular 

and after the laughter
relax in the pasture 

where happy calves gather
off the path where the grass is

rip wit to bits 

to stitch it up in patches
rehashed madness 

trapped words with snares
lured in verbs 

which herd unaware
cured them in pure mercury
to learn purpose 

we curiously
burn tobacco and hash 

to make a basic state change
turn earth into air 

by inhaling flame
brains smelt metals 

with elemental alchemy
find gold in lead

redefine reality
said example 

look at the right angle
and junkie transforms 

to dust-headed hipster angel
a wino's rambles 

become words of a prophet
government turns evil empire 

gotta work to stop it
while they hellbent on malevolence 

i revel in intelligence
combine the elements 

and write rhymes 

that are relevant
a resident of earth 

and the cycle of dirt
death and birth 

last and first
awake, asleep 

and keep seeking meaning
in the city 

i see while dreaming
imaginary matrices 

made of concrete
all races and creeds 

across the same street
big crunch situation 

every place one nation
small world theatrics 

minus disney animation
i'm waiting cross legged 

to ascend the 5th dimension
listen to intuition

abandon apprehension
mind occupied 

where lives that died reside
with lost lullabies 

of annihilated tribes
played light on bark pipes
made from piled archetypes
building blocks of thought 

from before talk was taught
i craft scattered rafters 

into simple city plots
rocks make up the walls 

with pine pitch glue
stitch lines of design 

for the sun to shine through
henge stone till the cows come home
even if they roam off
now only bones 

slowly grown soft
with moss blanket, grass bed 

asleep for ages
awaken when satan's hand 

turns the final pages
to pen the end 

after the rapture
we begin again

i'll catch you next chapter

tea with dream queens

i take tea with dream queens
speak of the things we've seen
try and find a reason 

for feeling my being's 

a broken down playground 

for angels and daemons
neither succeeding 

but if either one falters
see resolve dissolve 

like salt into water
as vicious fish 

feed on wishes missed
in a land of stained glass mansions 

ripped to bits by bricks
i sit in the ruins of beauty
shackled to the smoke stacks 

that take the place of fruit trees
whose loose leaves 

feed by smooth breeze
screamed colors in the end
no sound but wind 

as they blanket the ground
now cement foundation 

in the midst of a wasteland
lets face it

i'm the son of a country 

that rapes sacred ancients
run on hungry tummies 

and the pouring of pavement
escaped basic enslavement 

to make this statement
all i'm asking 

is to live is a fashion
where people are capable of conjuring 

some sort of compassion
shatter established 

learned patterns of past

burn frigid bridges 

map paths in the ash
smash the hour glass open 

fashion castles in the sand
sing the songs we sang 

before the dawn of man
in the past on the grassland 

masked dance reenacts
stories and myths 

that are actually facts
back before division 

eclipsed intuitions wisdom
we lived within cyclical rhythms
a fission splintered 

existence into fractions
now prisons replace 

simple interactions
a graceless fall 

from graceful relations
i meditate 

and wait for the day when
we awaken forsaken imagination 

make grapes from raisins
and create substance 

where space had been
stay patient with limitations 

make them become useful
two sides to every sword 

the ugly and the beautiful
to be truthful 

i house both good and evil
together forever 

i exist as all people
full spectrum collection 

like light reflects in prisms
splits infinity

many eyes like insect vision
hell is repetition 

the only sin in coercion
heaven's the condition 

of two bodies merging
virgin and the slut

secular and sacred
molecular awakening 

in bodies lying naked
everything the same 

it all became plain
men as straw dogs 

women, paper cranes
in the hour of now 

watch a new dawn rise
there's beauty in the view 

even through polluted skies
purify the poison

heal and live again
give something real 

feel and befriend
sip from loves cup 

sup on earth's pleasures
fuel all your fires 

and fly with your feathers
endeavor for heaven 

for over-extendace
bests resting forever 

then clutching at remnants
when its cold and dark 

and hearts start to harden
stay out of stasis 

grow like a garden
fear has no basis 

there's no need to cower
leave needless weeds 

reseed them with flowers
in after hour shadows 

scour city back roads
jack tractors and backhoes
and smack concrete with an axe
so grass grows 

through the cracks

wear squares back down 

into round shapes
as before the human race 

replaced the ways of apes
face the past and the future 

but reside in the present
stay wide eyed to life 

savor every second
as summer sun 

becomes wind and rain
through the storm we're reborn 

laugh to mask the pain
and grow from the strain 

so it goes from birth
turn cruelty into beauty 

and help to heal the hurt
we walk upon this earth 

but we're only human beings
so i take tea with dream queens
and speak of things we've seen

the crowd goes wild

she lay in the sweat soaked sheets 
listening to the hum mmmm
of the rotating fan drown out everything 
except the sound of the crickets 
and the snoring of the boy next to her. 
the heat made her irritable,
the absence of light made the 
usually soothing sound of the crickets 
an easy target on which to vent her rage. 
she imagined herself running about, 
stomping on them 
with comically oversized boots. 
however 
this image filled her with 
a strange sense of guilt 
and in an attempt to balance it out 
she imagined playing a huge concert 
where right at the climax 
of their last and greatest song 
the leg of a gigantic cricket 
crashes through the venue ceiling 
and mashes the band into human jelly. 

The crowd goes wild.