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Category Archives: Poems

i can’t wait
for this
to be over

when i can’t wait
it means
i want this
to be over
as soon as

i can’t wait
for the week
to be over

a life is spent
in weeks

most of life
is spent
waiting for
the week
to be over

waiting for
life to be over

jobs are honorable
jobs are important
for the human psych

what else
*could* we do
with our time
than wait
for it to be over

it is important
for the human psyche
to waste
most of life
can’t waiting

is there more
to this?
oh well
i can’t wait for the weekend


Dear Fate:

I hate you in the morning
I hate you in the night
And if you find a muffin
I’ll stomp it with my might

you kicked me in the noggin
and took me to a mugging
you best be set for running
for when it’s next I see you
I’ll send you to your mourning

Sincerely Yours,


Gene sequencing is not a distraction.
And never once lost traction
What instead we find
countless places to bind

To turn and fold
oh the noise
so harsh a stochastic form
From RNA templates to epigene makers
roundabouts and turn abouts abound

Read a thing or two and
maybe you will see
progress runs apace
And while it’s true the space
to walk is very quite a large
things move at swift
Not a marathon nor a race
‘stead doors open and a place
With treasures ten thousand
to times of what we hold

Alas many a chest is opened
with keys yet unfound
And yes of omics we must pile
enough to fill a barge.

But foolish, yes, to mistake that
as no progress to be found

All that said, it is important to not go overboard on the predictive ability of genes. Some people go too far in thinking it’s some kind of blue print. It’s not, it is more like a declarative specification of an execution context where chemistry and off equilibrium thermodynamics get a lot of leeway on how those instructions are to be interpreted. Of course we would not know this without the gene data. And while predictive utility is hampered a massive lot can be done for many diseases as we get a handle on the data and computations – since there, we want a descriptive not a prescriptive understanding.

The Streets were empty nary a person in sight
Come now while i tell what led to this plight
It started you see when the children sought night
they gathered in corners looking to strike fright


Or so was said as we read in the pages
or so they said as they gathered in phases
all hoodlings to be locked. sent up in cages


No wait. they say –
the correct term: ‘Peace Camp’
a place to learn
the just good messages


but few would know the truth what was
the end began at last,
oh yes – quite fast
to be processed
in stages =)
everyone to their cast 

yes peace! all was good
so we turned now our sights
to the others who would steal
our hard earned wages


those of age who wander out listlessly
with the onset of dementia all tasks done fruitlessly
they sit in their fancy hospital beds lit
do nothing but play their bingo game bandit
or lay the day wasting –  in their restful comas
while we work they watch – their dreadful droll dramas
No we say let them find their merry way
We owe them nothing for all they do is play


And Now it was good for all the rest best
No ditty old ones or foolish children wild
to take from us our gold plated chest


No Wait! we say,
for surely there are More!

So then we set anew to clear all the dangers
Those who might come to our homes and harm,
The jobless trash who steal from us our shinies
and sit and beg to while away our pennies


so off they went. locked in aplenty
And all was good for a very short time
But now we find that what is truly needed


A neighborhood sentry.
Arrest all who try
to peek at entry

Prevent a crime
just before the time


So it was laid.
To protect our funds
oh, and also future –

Not a step could be taken
Without a price to be paid
No this Nor that
else suffer a character fracture
Breathe at that angle?
Lets see your permit
Blinking at an eagle?
Deposit your credit


So from one to two
we proceeded inductively
Till Not a house could once waken
without a law and many breaking
all done yes. stripped so reductively


But Oh! Peace at last with all trash hidden
No one could do and all the rest ridden
But what was lost in our mad gleeful haze
Safety Can only be bought in a restricting daze


And that is why we find
not a person in sight
So worth it all –
to stave off the fright?


Now gravely the risk
that may so rapidly come
where safety to perfection
make life and death as one
the disappearance of creativity
and the freedom to try
as a human might will
and so swiftly following
for Society a silent collapse
from an illusion of a solution
oh so carelessly taken

I once knew a lady who could cross her wires
She could smell the light and hear the sights

“but that is not natural” I would say and frown

“Isn’t it weird for light to smell?” I would say quite proud

She would only shake her head and wrinkle her nose
I suppose if i could hear smells I would understand
So I would go my own way till the next time round

But one day she did speak.

“You labour under this apprehension that the world is
 That there is some natural affair and a definite order
 But don’t you see how silly that is?
 It is an accident of consequence and nothing more
 that you can sense as smell some molecules
 or feel them as warmth as they bounce forth
 or hear them vibrating within a medium
 or see their vibrating without a medium.

 Your world is experienced through a tiny peephole
 And you seek to fit everything through. Though
 the better choice would be: fix your damn radius!
 Why, your Light and your radios, are one and the same
 But even though in a manner you hear light
 You fail to imagine what it would be to see heat”

“But what colour would it be?” I then asked

“The brain has it own natural wiring
 You can pick or choose the nearest firing
 But your notion of colour is limited arbitrary
 Why not assign and attune some neurons new
 to frequencies of light beyond you
 experience a new colour and many others too
 And unexperience the universe as it is true”

Why you, Hello there!
I have a question to ask

Do you think you have no destiny?
That choices you make
are of your own volition?

That your are more than
an echo in neural firings?

Or that your consciousness
is certainly more, no less

than mere stochastic fluctuations
in brain chemistry?

Ah. Then I am most sorry to inform.
that this is not true
Long before you decide
on which finger to lift
Your brain has sent a cascade large
of chemical messengers adrift
and only sometimes will
later decide to inform you
tricking you to think
the choice had been yours

Can you claim the credit
that you think as you?
Perhaps but forget not
that you were born
In accordance to the summed
dangers of lineages long past.

The blueprint of your genes set the tone
So though you may think you prefer that one
It is more a preference turned by actions taken
That led some to live and give birth
Long by far before you were born.

But genes are only a guideline you may say
A rough formless blueprint of arbitrary sway
ah, but remember you did not pick
the where  and when you would be born
Nor did your parents and so on back
Nor did you choose what things to expose
As you grew and gained to a weighted average
of things seen done and others consumed,
mere connections flimsy but tricked to consequence

So there we have it.
Your brain, genes and places all
collude to your path inhibit and your choices still.
That your destiny becomes set.
So is all you do not of yours?
That you may harm and certainly no choice
More than a moving train?

No. for sometimes though rarely so
the system does reflect
up to a point that is fixed
so that the choice made
and the choice unmade
fix to become one and the same
Sometimes. maybe twice, not much more
A decision is made that goes as you had

so do not forget when next choosing
That though not often, actions may conspire so
the guide rail is removed to an open place
The choice is yours and all too real
And then in those few times yes
the consequences are certain. less surreal.

You will set and pick a cascade to the chaos
that will set and limit the choices of one many
Far and long removed in time and space
so for that very moment you must all your life spend
practicing on choices prepackaged and unfree

That the innumerable lives the wave
that simple choice touches
are imperceptibly turned
from wretched souls
to full and kindred spirits

sally sally she would not go
tally tally she could not show
nary nary she had no grace
bleary bleary she hid her face

always always did she choose flight
even even if it lost right
this day this day would she choose might
this way this way would she gain sight

for no score no more would her place decline,
Yay. for no tool no fool would her path recline

and no door no door would her face hide
herefore therefore would her pace glide
faster faster would she now grow
master master could she now flow

would that i could, would that i would
would that i knew things that I should

Excuses you give, Excuses you leave
Why not say sumth we could believe

believe it I can’t, believe it you rant
why not say something than platitudes to chant

things that you say come into play
words have the power for unfolding a way
a word said in heart can wisdom impart
a word said in heart can all hope depart

and with this fed the self the cycle to start

Once upon a time
but not time upon a once
There was a thing of nothing
Which was not a thing
Neither was it a no thing
rather it was
an empty complete void

It is hard to describe
A thing that is not a thing
But not itself nothing
A Lack beyond nothing
Completely incomprehenible
To a Mortal mind like yours

But then one day
The thing decided
That it should exist
And so it did
And no longer was it nothing
No not at all
For you see
Now it was everything
But that was not all

Since with that spring
It cascaded a scheme
To reflect upon itself
Or at least
A part of itself
By a part of itself
And so here you are

Look and see that I have done all you asked
I have gathered the crimson trinkets, just as you asked
And the buoyant gleaming gems 
all of them counted, cleanly, for the gathered task
I have run the circle twice haggard, more a thousand times
I have stood upon three three toes, sung the thousand rhymes
And now I ask, Give me the thing simple, I demand
Give me mine the bands of nine braided Bliss

It is true as you say, you need not repeat nor remind
So here then you are, what many do not find
That which for so long you sought
Take this the band for so long you fought
Take this the band of happiness, The nine braided Bliss

Hold I say, for what trickery is this?
I have placed the band prim
See the velvet on my arm round
Yet still to darkness I find myself bound
I do not ride on the winds of joy whimsical
Or drink from the streams of spirit magical
You have lied old one, being of deceit incarnate
You have stole me from my years, many intricate
that after all this, to deny me my bliss…barricade!

I warn you, be careful now fool mortal,
spring more agile with words you string
those who would be me tell tales of no height
Then where are flows from the heavens
promised me
That you and yourself alone have furnished
For not twice, not once hath such a premise
wandered amongst my words then unto thee
What then is to be expected from a trinket such? 
You think I have asked for what is overmuch?

You do not see as you are, desolate and wrapped
to a stricken core–all lies shattered, a burden cold and searing
You are enduring–ensuring your knowing
that perhaps when the sharp and broiling woe
turns to a face of joy, a light warm and lifting
You take into you the nature to be glad
Knowing full all – that which was not had
So I bid you listen for this is no ploy
If you do without looking between the done
You lose the race only you have run
And tire and fall before all has begun

When you spend your time on what must be measured
Knowing not why then you measure
You forget what that you thought treasured
And lose to what it is that you must be
And though you may go forth with your eyes open
You will not with those eyes see
When the glimmer fades to no longer
wiped to a cleaner truth, one pure, clear yes raw
and steps to a glimmering–at first–shimmering newness
No! All will be that inglorious hang
of the darkness and its crushing maw

Continue to do just as you must
reweighing that in whose hope you trust
I tell you that you must check
what then drifts silent in to this, your flow?
Look to see but, why do you sow?
Look to see the shape of the one so the other
To Pull from the self the sights to go further
For the secret which to many is not told
Close the one and the other you unfold
Or perhaps not, sorry we cannot hold
But surely they say, you must be bold