Poetry and science
Are similar in their appliance.
Poetry collects abstract thoughts.
Old and new stories are taught.

Subtracting from the lie.
One less pill to prescribe.
Science collects facts.
Puts them in charts and graphs.

Producing new theory.
To accept or be leery.
Both search for truth.
The elusive white whale of youth.

Both are open to all solutions.
Both believe in progress and evolution.
Energy cannot be created or destroyed.
Through our searching we find joy.

Connected to the whole.
One word written to cajole.
One formula to unite all.
Knowing that together we fall.

To condense this knowledge
They seek to make us first acknowledge
There are missing pieces to the equation.
Using the tool of persuasion

To help us believe in something existential.
To look at nothing and find potential.
To help connect our thoughts together.
To help us through the stormy weather.

If Freedom Exists…


I was there last night.
I watched the burning man take flight.
Go up in fire and fall.

I watched the crowds and all.
The fireworks as the burners rejoiced.
Feeling the connectivity and one voice

Heard over the desert.
If freedom exists it is in the twist
Of the match that sparked the man.

Created him in the sand.
Thousands gather yearly for this tower.
Dancing and reflecting on life at his feet.

The Burning Man does not retreat.
With hands held high in the air
Pushes his body towards despair.

Like a virgin sacrifice he dies.
While birthing so many new lives.
As their sins are wiped away.

A new, New Years day has come.
In the middle of the desert for some.
Who prepare for this day with vigor.

To feel this energy with rigor.
And embrace their place
In this universe, in this space.

I watched as the man burned.
He sat on my laptop being streamed.
2000 miles away he gleamed.

I watched the sunrise this morning.
Felt connected to this new dawning.
Of an age where I am part of

Some invisible cosmic plan.
Feeling the burners are my friends.
Knowing deeply that I am one of them.


The Principles

Like George Orwell’s Animal Farm, there are ten principles around which Burning Man Festival is based.

Radical Inclusion: A veritable ‘celebration of the stranger’, anyone with a ticket is gladly welcomed. Forget stereotypes and prejudices – they don’t play a role here.

Gifting: Leave wallets at home because gifting is the economy of Burning Man. Remember, this is not an exchange – the giving of a gift is considered to be unconditional.

Decommodification: To preserve the spirit of giving and protect from the banes of consumption, no cash transactions are allowed. While there are one or two exceptions to this rule, it’s best to steer clear of dollars and cents.

Radical Self-reliance: Considering the event’s harsh environment, individuals must be prepared to rely on inner resources and be responsible for their own subsistence.

Radical Self-expression: Whether it be through artistic installations, community projects, radical outfits or nudity, participants are encouraged to express themselves and explore their unique talents in any number of ways.

Communal Effort: Cooperation and collaboration are key components, with all working together in their quest for artistic freedom.

Civic Responsibility: Burning Man values civil society, and encourages participants to act in accordance with federal, state and local laws.

Leaving No Trace: Come 7 September, there is to be ‘no trace’ left of Burning Man. In a demonstrated commitment to the environment, participants aim to leave Black Rock in a better state than it was when they came.

Participation: Radical participation is non-negotiable. Forget rocking up in jeans and a T-shirt, getting intimately involved in the artistic expression is a requirement for all.

Immediacy: Participants aim to be forever in the moment, overcoming barriers that stand between their everyday persona and the exploration of their inner souls. This is perhaps the most essential tenet of the Burning Man Festival.

Into the Great Unknown

The human condition.
Is addition.
Is subtraction.
Big bang.
Big boom.

And depression.
And obsession.
The power to create and fall.
The power to destroy us all.

I am human now.
Walking upright.
Thumbs for texting.
Ego for besting.

But what can I teach you?
There are so very few
Who want to receive.
Who want to believe

In themselves.
You are the everything.
You are the pollution
You are the solution.

For you are to live with passion.
That is all you have.
There is nothing more to esteem.
This is the infinite theme

All the prophets have preached.
Look deeply within self.
And find Science.
And call it God.

Look deeply within self
And find peace.
And end all wars.
That is what your heart is for.

Look deeply within self
And find your mission.
All of us are assistants.
All of us are professors.

Profess your mission high and low.
Make all the formulas in the universe glow.
If not all the knowledge in the world is dead.
Nothing but recipes to make bread.

No need to learn anything more.
For the human species is a dirty whore
Unless we look within.
Realize that only from inside it begins.

No more empty hole to fill.
No more sleepless nights forced taking pills.
Living with passion you won’t need sleep.
Each moment a time to leap

Into the great unknown.

The Invention

I am watching everyone make their mark.
Using ideas and technology to make their start.


What is my worth with no web application to birth?

Cook it down, on a slow simmer.
Until the idea glimmers.
Until there is no sound.
Until my mind becomes unbound.

I can no longer compete.
So I won’t.
The giants have won.
I live daily that defeat.

What is my target?
Who is the monster I want to harvest?
Slingshot in hand, I will take my aim.
I will mock the monster and call it names.

My invention will not do all things.
No bells and whistles to ring.
One thing it will do the best.
Once I find that function I can rest.

The world will rejoice and use this invention.
And remember the tool that did one thing.
Like fire it will forever change the game.
Like water it will thrive and life will never be the same.

Watch it Burn

There comes a time when history goes in reverse.
As much as you try, it hurts.
The world you know is not what you wanted.
The people you hear talk, too blunted.

Hurting your brain and ears.
Speaking another language you fear
Hate in their hearts.
Nothing you can do to restart

What has begun.
The world is becoming undone.
There will be riots in the streets.
There will be a revolution to defeat.

The division that has always been within.
True progress now portrayed as sin.
Welcome to the end.
Watch it unravel before your eyes.

False Messiah’s speaking on the steps where prophets stood.
Preaching unity.
After sewing hate with impunity.
Millions cheering them speak.

They prey on the dumb and weak.
They are the majority now it would seem.
They all have guns.
They all know it has begun.

The toppling of this country will come
By the use of the freedoms we have spun.
Freedom of speech turned into the freedom of hate.
Freedom of religion turned into the freedom to sedate.

Is it too late?
No sense in trying to relate.
Revel in the end of an empire.
Drink a beer, watch the game, start a fire and watch it burn.

While Eating Our Breakfast

Philosophy teaches us.
Unsettles us.

With what we already know.
It works by remixing what you know
And makes it strange.

Philosophy estranges us from the familiar.
Providing and provoking a new way of thinking.
Once the familiar becomes strange
You are never again the same.

Self-knowledge can never become unknown.
Political philosophy is a story.
The story is about you.

Political philosophy may make you worse.
Because philosophy is a distancing even debilitating activity.

Callicles argued with Socrates to quit philosophizing and enjoy life.
They did not resolve the cases begun.
Who are we to think that we here can resolve them?

It’s true. These questions have been debated for a very long time.
We live some answer to these questions every day.
Kant says skepticism is no solution.
Skepticism is a resting place for human reasoning.

The aim is to awaken the restlessness of reason and to see where it might lead.

We are ruled by pain and by pleasure.
Should we base morality on maximizing happiness?
The greatest good for the greatest number.
Jeremy Bentham’s utilitarian illusion.
Add it all up.

Four in the crew. Dudley was the Dude. Stephens was the First Mate.
All men of excellent shape.
The Cabin Boy, Parker, was an orphan and teenager.
The wave hit the ship and the Mignonette went down.
The only food, two cans of turnips, a turtle and a frown.
All soon eaten.
For eight days they ate nothing.
Lost at sea.
Burnt and free.

No food. No water. What was to be?
Parker became ill from drinking sea water and was murdered.
A dagger through his throat.
New food now, they did float.

For three days they fed on the blood and body of the Cabin Boy.
On the 24th day while eating their breakfast, a ship appeared, ahoy.
If the cabin boy had agreed would it have been okay to save the rest?
What is the moral work that consent does best?

What was the value of Parker’s life?
Even though he had no wife.
No children waiting for him back on land.
No family to tear up without his hand?

Across the Pond

I began working on a team to develop a cross continental poetry club that will collaborate with two universities. The project has a lot of potential. This is the first flier of which I designed and wrote the poetry. Dr. Edmund Skellings, poet laureate of Florida, is the rock that binds this project together.  I wish them much luck.

Meditation on Magnetism

Transients we all are.
Passing under the radar.
Not a blip on the screen.

Only objects seen
in our memories.
Magnetism unites

And separates.
Lose your charge.
Drop like a card.

Through the ground.
The earth, moon and stars
All separated by this charge.

So infinite and small.
Repulsing and uniting all.

Godlike its invisible surge.
One solar flare; humanity purged.
Separated from the urge

And desire to be more.
For your power will decide
If humanity will collide.

Or realize our potential.
To leave this rock in tow
To travel with your flow.

Let it be known
Whatever you decide to do
I will always respect you.

To the Bone

To the Bone
I hone my knife
To strike a deal with life.

That I will not relent.
That I will walk this world naked and repent.

Give up my everything to fix it.
Give up my life to lift it.

So that you will have a better world.
So that others might see your long curls.

My love.
My girls.

My heart is on my sleeve.
With all my strength I cleave
This knife into the bone.

So that these words might not know tissue or blood.
So that these words might flow eternal and flood.
So that you might always know what you mean to me.

Inspired by Ray LaMaontagne. Thank you Ray.

I Still Care For You
Hear me out
Day follows day
Light turns to
clay in my hands

How to explain,
So pristine the pain
Kindness made
the cut so

I still care for you

Hear me out
Wanted me to be
Less your lover
than a mirror

Can’t you see
What you mean to me?
(even promises may bleed)

I still care for you

The hours grow
And hollow,
And cruel as a grave

Open Me
You’ll find
Only bones
burned to glass.

I still care for you

To renew our lease

The Sky is falling

Literally falling.

And what should we do?


Is there another choice?

Embrace our loved ones while we have the time.

Or maybe things will turn on a dime?

All the news media reported a crime.

To scare people to believe what they want us to.

Force us to believe we can’t do.

That America is a crumbling empire.

No longer able to put out the world’s fires.

No jobs or food to pass around.

The water has subsided and bodies are still being found.

Millions of new homeless.

Our empathy formless.

The sky is falling as I write this poem.

Hiding under my desk, I wonder where we have come from?

From hunter-gatherers, farmers and fishermen.

To clicking plastic buttons.  Pulling strings.  Flying wings.

I still have hope, that the sky is not falling.

Or that we must all accept our calling.

To be the last generation alive.

To live long enough to teach out children to strive.

For good. For peace. To renew our lease.