Beyond the world of discovery that music has been for me, there was always the bigger world, the universe of questions about what we’re a part of, how it works, and how to best fit into the larger whole.

My love of words, a fascination with scientific, philosophical, and spiritual inquiry, and a quiet determination to learn how to be a better human (and a happier man) have led me on a path of shaping my experience, breath by breath, into poems.

Here are some of them.

like a snowflake

July 19, 2019

I am tired of trying
to be something:
a man,
a person,
a human.

I would rather be
as I was born,
a blob of energy,
always in flux,
forever undefined.

I would trade my identity
to become anonymous,
like a snowflake,
to give up this need
to be anything
in particular.

Me and My Ego

July 5, 2019

I often wonder
if I have freed myself
from my own ego,
but that is just my ego,
worrying about itself.

It worries a lot,
about my shortcomings,
and if I’m “doing it right”,
trying to remodel itself
into something new and improved,
yet always reluctant
to release its grip
on how I see the world.

It is a snake of thought
eating its own tail,
in a loop to nowhere,
maintaining its power
for as long as I feed it
with my attention and concern.

My Horse

July 3, 2019

I am riding this horse
(my body/my mind)
through life’s terrain,
as sights and sounds,
feelings and thoughts
flow by me.

Mostly, my horse
goes where I need to go,
and so I loosen my reigns,
and relax, a grateful rider.


July 2, 2019

I have waited too long
for the world to be
just as I thought it ought to be.

I have let my happiness depend
on what goes on around me;
I have given up my power
to the vagaries of circumstance.

So now, I place my trust
in the world within,
at the center of infinity,
where everything is possible,
and already perfect,
just as it is.


July 2, 2019

Street light flickers on the pavement,
filtered through the swaying branches.

Beauty is in the interplay
between disparate things,

The Gift of Our Attention

June 27, 2019

Day after day,
a sad, deranged man
vies desperately for our attention,
and we, in our complicity,
give him what he asks for.

Will we ever learn
to break free of this compulsion,
like rubberneckers on a highway,
as we pause in our own lives
to wallow in the mire
of his sad imaginings?

The gift of our attention
is a poison pill,
polluting all our spirits
with anger and fear,
dooming us, and him
to an endless loop
of fevered dreams.

It is up to each of us
to break this cycle,
and help to heal
our country’s wounded soul.

All there ever is

June 13, 2019

There is no past,
and there never was.

There is no future,
and there never will be.

All there ever is
is now,
and that is all
I’ll ever need.

Little Awakenings

May 28, 2019

More and more,
my mind is lately filled
with thoughts about awakening
to the present moment.

And then,
when I notice I am thinking,
I stop, seeing the irony
of my mind’s incessant yearning,
and let myself awaken
to the present moment.

The rainbow of our skins

May 22, 2019

There is no such thing
as a black person,
or a white person,
or a red or yellow person.

There is no human skin
which is truly black,
white, red, or yellow.

Why, then,
do we treat these labels
as if they were real,
delineating some real difference?

The rainbow of our skins
is simply shades
of beige and brown,
with hints of red and yellow.

There is no such thing
as a black person,
or a white person,
or a red or yellow person.

There are only people.

in the midst

May 21, 2019

When I have lost my center,
floundering for meaning,
I need only watch the moon,
the clouds rolling past it,
a planet twinkling beside it,
and I am back where I belong,
in the midst of creation.