Monday, May 20, 2019

I Must

The Muses crawl around inside my brain
And keep my neurons always lit--I must
Make poetry--I'm living with this trust
I cannot leave behind--I can't refrain
From making art--production keeps me sane--
Neglect will only drive me to the brink,
To where I can no longer breath nor think--
And yet, I think this is a gift, a gain.

I have to live up on the mountaintop,
Out in the sun, the dancing star, the air
So crisp and cool, the water crystaline.
I'm forced to always harvest my mind's crop
Before it withers in the heat--the fair
Wind, weather will not last. I must begin. 

Monday, May 13, 2019

An Invitation

The gods have fled? They haven't been invited!
A century has passed opposing beauty
And now we stand depressed, dismayed, indicted
As artists for our failure at our duty.

Our art, our poetry--none beautiful
Enough to bring the gods to Earth--
None terrible enough to bravely cull
Us of the evil spirits we give birth.

We ought to bravely, boldly mark our blaze--
Instead, we set all art ablaze and kill
The soul--the avant garde's designed to raze
 Instead of raise us--empty, never fill.

We wander lonely, stripped of flesh and soul--
We've been abandoned--art has lost its goal.

Monday, May 6, 2019

Aphorisms on Life, Death, and Meaning

"You cannot know about death before you know about life." -- Kung Fu Tzu

Creation must precede destruction.

Birth and life and sex come before death.

Avoiding death means you're avoiding life.

To have no peace, you must avoid all strife.

To create chaos, impose order.

True anarchy's the architect of complex order.

Imposing meaning means there is no meaning being made.

Monday, April 29, 2019

Birthing Pains

Oh sun, send forth your silent rays
On all our melancholy days,
On me and those who follow me,
To raise an ancient reverie.

I've seen the paintings on these walls
So many times I see their flaws--
My feet, my hips in searing pain
Like van Gogh I might go insane.

He who asks questions knows far more
Than he who asks you nothing. War
With those who hide from lunar light,
Rejecting poetry's delight.

The music rises, rises, falls
Reminding us of ancient calls--
The searing pain, the sudden joy
The strings, the woodwinds, drums deploy.

The sun of truth, the moon of verse
Together lift the ancient curse,
Together paint a brand new art,
Where music never can depart.

Monday, April 22, 2019

Usurious Theorists

The poets all complain of usury--
The Canterbury Tales, the Cantos tell
Us of its evils--yet we cannot flee
The debt on which professors' wallets swell.
The money flows from government and debt
To literary theorists who all dine
On the youth's scarlet blood and salty sweat
And drink the money, flowing sweet as wine.

The fault is in the markets--that's the false,
Self-serving Marxist narrative we hear
In English classes fed by falsely low
Interest rates decimating English halls
Once the bubble burst, burst what once was dear
And from their negligence have naught to show.

Monday, April 15, 2019


I cannot violate the rules--the rules
I did not make, the grammar, syntax, soul
Of rhetoric, the nature-given tools
That make us more of who we are. The goal
That can't be reached is what will beautify--
The path that can't be trod will take us there--
Resentment, envy we must all defy--
Find love in trade, but only if we dare.

I violate the rules to make a space
For newer games and truer games to grace
My kitchen table of the rarest wood
The forest filled, the farmer felled--I face
The fact that breaking rules is often good
And beauty's hidden and exposed by lace.

Monday, April 8, 2019

From Love

When time emasculated the broad sky
And churned the sea into a frothy foam,
Then love emerged, most feminine, to lie
With war to make male love and harmony,
And unrequited love (the poets' choice)
And fear, most foul revenge, and dread and lust.
She'd lie with unrestrained consumption, birth
A masculinity unrestrained, burst
In rampant plowing of the fertile earth.
She'd lie with commerce, balancing the home,
The masculine and feminine, the voice
Of mutuality and harmony.
In fields of colorful anemones
That grew up from her sorrow in the breeze
From the death sent by war and the chaste moon
Arose a daughter destined for the sea.
War's death in lust, the moon in virginal
Revenge brought love and death poetic life
That always comes from living sacred strife.

Monday, April 1, 2019


We think we’re on fire
And preach to the choir
Give in to desire
But there’s none we inspire
And none who would hire
A liar denier
They’re stuck in the mire
And light every pyre
Cause they believe every liar
And that’s why I tire
Of trying to sire
A world where my life
Is nevermore rife
With anger and strife
I’ll cut with a knife
The ones that my wife
Say stand on her neck
The scum and the dreck
Who think that their beck
And call is a check
To pay for the wreck
They made of society
They don’t see reality
The weight of the gravity
Built by depravity
Made by the hand we
Love to be petted by
As we try to deny
The leash that holds us all by
The neck so we cannot fly
We’re merely just getting by
No matter how hard we try
But we will not dare defy
Our masters who will reply
With guns and then we will cry
As we and our children die

Monday, March 25, 2019

Warrior Poets

In tiger stripes and leopard spots the wind
Spreads out the light among the branches, leaves
And pull me, drunken with the wine of life
Into the threads imagination weaves.

God grants the gift to wake the world with words--
He woke the world with words, then gave the gift
To poets so that we could make the world
One logos at a time. With it we shift

Horizons, then launch all our silver ships.
Come, goddesses who wing the warrior up
From death into the heavens where the cup
Of victory shall always touch her lips.

The poet is the master of the word,
The warrior who flies with the heavens' bird.

Monday, March 18, 2019

Eros' Arrows

How can I think agape thoughts
When your wet lips are pink, agape,
Inviting me to bare my chest
To Eros' arrows. I would feel your shape
And I would surely bear the wait,
The time it takes to shed your petals
And swell to ripest, reddest fruit
To fill the bowls and pots and pans and kettles
With such sweet juice I would preserve
Until we both run out of time. I trust
The constancy I find in you
When you cannot control with me your lust
For all I say, for all I do,
My intellect, the way I stroke your breast,
The way I love but you alone--
I gaze upon you, know that I am blessed.

Monday, March 11, 2019

To Lie

"I want your honesty"--the greatest lie
We tell each other--you just want my lie.

Resentment, lashing out, and anger--light
Of truth brings these--you're happy in the lie.

The upright stance--you push and pull and lure
Me down so that beside you I will lie.

Can love or hate, desire or disgust
Survive a single day without the lie?

What kind of love, what kind of friendship lives
By swimming in pacific seas of lies?

Are you upset because I speak the truth?
I do not show I love you when I lie.

When I am honest, I show my support--
I show my disrespect when every lie.

It does not mean I do not care for you
If I don't feed you a comforting lie.

The truth that I express in poetry--
How I, Troy Camplin, falsify the lie.

Monday, March 4, 2019

When They Won't Listen

Here's one of life's neglected rules:
Don't waste your time with drunks and fools.

Monday, February 25, 2019

The Tree of Life

The worm that wriggles in my hand
Is at the top of life's dense tree--
And though he wriggles and I stand,
He's at the top, the same as me.

Man never came from chimpanzees--
We have a common ancestry
That brachiated through the trees--
From them is how we came to be.

No species now remains unchanged
From Coelecanth to biting flea--
All DNA has been arranged
For chaos makes order for free.

We came from love, we came from strife--
Such strange attractions made all life.

Monday, February 18, 2019

How to Make an Atheist

The Flood drove all the dinosaurs extinct--
You little knew that mankind's sins were linked
To those great creatures' sad and sudden deaths?
Dimetrodons could never hold their breaths
So long that they'd survive. Ichthyosaurs,
Or other things that don't go on all fours?
Why would the winged beasts be gone when flight
Above the clouds could keep them at a height
No mountain-drowning flood could ever reach?
What could this death of dinosaurs then teach
Us of the wages of our sins? Perhaps
The trilobites all drowned or we'd relapse
To decadence and unbelief. It's odd
So many want to think these things of God.

Thursday, February 14, 2019

I Don't Need You Around

Why do you speak of need I have no need
Of any individual--not you,
My love, nor anyone. You true
And always love--I want to always feed
Out of your dish--You fill me up--indeed,
I'll give you all the love that you are due.
Why speak of need? Out of my well you drew
True water--there's no need to make me bleed.

It's only out of want you get desire--
It's only out of want where you get wealth--
It's only out of wanting extra heat
That anyone was taming fatal fire.
I do not need-- I much prefer the health
Of wanting you so love will not retreat.

Monday, February 11, 2019


I have a Master's and a Ph.D.
But I live life autistically.
I was a para in a B.S.C.
But I write plays and poetry.

I have three children and a wife at home--
I'm working on an epic tome--
On honeymoon I took my wife to Rome,
But never have I been to Nome.

I have a tank of fish, a rabbit, too--
They are my children's, to be true.
I write and read--it's almost all I do--
I love to go someplace that's new.

I grew up in Kentucky--I was born
In Indiana (not near corn)--
I lived in Mississippi when forlorn,
And now I live in Dallas, where I'm worn.

The oddest orchids, other epiphytes
Are both among my loves, delights--
All knowledge, wisdom that give my thoughts flights
Bring me beloved rhymes, insights.

I bound around here in a life that's rife
With chaos, but I feel no strife:
My daughter, sons, and most lovely wife--
They are the true loves of my life.

Monday, February 4, 2019

The Pythagorean Theorem

Do not eat beans! Their tiny souls
Will exit out your ass--
And with their sound and stinky smell
Your friends will think you crass.

Monday, January 28, 2019

Shedding Death

Behold the sacred source of life. In birth
The brand-new baby sheds its mother, drinks
Its life and growth from her--she is the door
Through which we enter, open life to life.

Life sheds the dead--from life life comes--
From death all life remains--both feed us all
And make the way for life eternally
To live--the serpent sheds death on the ground.

The cavern of the underworld leads down
To death and darkness, out to light and life--
The source of creativity, creation,
We enter to the ever-changing moon.

The seed that's shed onto the ground will shed
Its coat when watered by the moon's clear tears--
Then, trembling, the shoot spears the sky and spreads
Its roots into the soil--leaves grasp the sun.

This constant change unchanges everything
And entropy negentropies the world--
The key unlocking beauty into life
Renewed opens the door through its shed skin.

Monday, January 21, 2019

The Triumph of Mercury

When Dionysus marched into the East
He met with Isis to unite the East

Apollo stayed at home in Rome, the West
Looked on, appalled that Bacchus left the West

In decadence drunk Dionysus's feast
We've seen to weaken all those in the East

And golden reason, virtue stood the test
That war had woven all throughout the West

Yet, no one understood the fluid beast,
The Proteus who's river of the East

While from the boot the people deemed the best
Deep rivers full of blood shed in the West

The satyrs on the islands have not ceased
To dance in orgy dreams throughout the East

The Muses make the rhythms of the blest
And sculpt their golden means throughout the West

The Maenads should be feared when they're released
They'll rend and rip and rive across the East

There's none august enough to wear the crest
So long rejected by men in the West

And wealth's complexified, slowly increased
As dawn is spreading all throughout the East

Now Hermes will interpret all the East
And synthesize it with the weary West

Monday, January 14, 2019

To Dance Among the Gods

The clouds have made a ladder to the moon.
I must depart if I'm to get there soon--
I hear the loon, the sound of sorrow sad
Against the hoots and howls that make me glad
I push against the fad that keeps me tied
To when I'm all too often at--I bide
My time and hide too little and too much--
I use the craggy mountain as a crutch
As fingers clutch the wispy rungs that rise
As snow-topped iron--there, the loon still cries
While I'm the one who flies, the lunatic
Who listens to the moon, the voice a prick
In time's quick tick that seems so slow to you--
I'm forced to find the beautiful and true,
The morals as they grew, the just--those four
Are me, as every poet knows--the door
The poet opens you implore he close--
You hate the life, the light the poet chose--
And as he grows--I grow--to face the fight
To dive to nature and to rise in flight
To be as gods, delight in rising up
To orbit with the moon and fill our cup
And sup on gold ambrosia in the shade
Among our equals, dreams who slowly fade.

Monday, January 7, 2019

Barking Dogs

The woods induce a sudden panic
No man-made cliffs titanic
Above the concrete trails the lunatic
Is running from--no brick
Enclosure, home or building could contain
The rose that blooms from pain--
No thorny thicket could contain the ruddy rose
That bursts in beauty but one bard
Could dare deliver, rhythms hanging hard--
The north wind blows
The virgin from the concrete cliff
Into a different riff--
Horse beats are heard--their children cry
In whinnies which the wind gives wings--a wry
Response from cynics whose lame barks
Scare only larks
Already learning these are lies that lie within a cage
Declares the current mangy age
Of stagnant health that's death's true dream
Where passed-out drunks all seem
As kings within the carnival--mere fools
Elected as the true king's tools,
The scapegoats, satyrs at the end of play
Who end their day
As butterflies upon the wind
Who fly into the afterlife for all who sinned.

Monday, December 31, 2018


The earth is populated across her weary face
For men have always wandered with hope from place to place,
Their wives and even children are all they often brought--
They look for open spaces where new life can be wrought.

From Africa mankind has spread, equator to the poles,
No matter where they've settled down they've met their mighty goals--
From fishermen to farmers and architects to saints
We never have ceased moving--our future's what each paints.

We paint the landscape future with ever-winding roads
On which we're always traveling with all our dreams and loads--
But often there's resistance when leaving or when there,
But that has never kept us from going anywhere.

The soul of man must wander--that is the natural law,
And those who would oppose it live with a tragic flaw--
They hate the best that's in mankind, and people who would hate
Want to destroy all beauty and dissolve our human fate. 

Monday, December 24, 2018

The Slow Death of the Death of Kings

There was a time when kings were killed--a year
Was all some had before the ritual
Brought down their reign in death--so who could fear
Such as would find their end in royal cull?

From those who heard the voice of spirits sing
And learned the language of the sky and stars
Emerged a slight reprieve--to kings they'd bring
Unnumbered years, then ritual death (or Mars).

An annual rite when fools would reign, the high
Would be brought low, the royals paupers made
And homeless made into the king who'd die
A scapegoat's death, the kin denied the blade.

The poets, hearing Dionysus, told
The tales of kings who fell--their audience
Would see the actors act, the parts unfold
To show the death on stage, a fiction fence.

The shamans and the poets lost their voice,
And all that now remains are kings who reign--
No death, no ritual reminder--choice
The only threat to break the iron chain.

Monday, December 17, 2018

Finding Happiness

I see deep beauty everywhere, in everything
And thus I've found true happiness--of it I sing.

Monday, December 10, 2018

Become as Little Children

"Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of God."

"The kingdom of God cometh not with observation: Neither shall they say, Lo here! or, lo there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you."

From out of apes you humans immatured--
Yes, you, for I have immatured as well,
My neurotribe and I--we have endured
Much mockery--as children we still dwell.

The genes that made the man from swinging ape,
That slowed development to make more room,
They are responsible for human shape
And mind, and the long journey to the tomb.

And yet these genes are many more in me,
It seems, and immatured me to autistic,
To image-, pattern-thinking--those who flee
Those most like me deny the realistic.

The realistic truth is we've evolved
And are evolving still--nothing's resolved.

Monday, December 3, 2018

Against All Hate

Behold, the vicious misanthrope,
The hater of the differences in skin,
The hater of the differences in kin,
The hater of what others would believe,
The hater who would hate without reprieve.

Behold, the vicious misanthrope,
The hater of the greatness man achieves--
When faced with man-made beauty only grieves--
The hater of the makers and the wealthy,
Who's only happy when you are unhealthy.

Behold, the vicious misanthrope,
Who sees man as a plague upon the earth,
Denying humans have inherent worth,
Repulsed at all mankind has built--
Who wants us to dissolve in shame and guilt.

The ones who want us full of guilt and shame,
Inventing reasons humans are to blame--
From poverty to wealth and exploitation
To laziness, defenders of the nation--
This is the vicious misanthrope.

The nihilist denying life has meaning,
That value, values are a lie--those leaning
On nothing for support would dare deny
All beauty, justice, truth--say they're a lie--
This is the vicious misanthrope.

You lovers of mankind, the rich and poor,
The individual--open the door
Of greatness, creativity and life--
Deny life's haters, creators of all strife--
Oppose the vicious misanthrope!

Monday, November 26, 2018

The Wages of Life

You dare to eat the pomegranate seed?
A single seed will keep you bound to death
And life will disappear on earth--you'll feed
On frozen ashes taking your last breath.

You dare to eat the pomegranate fruit?
The serpent spirals up the limb to speak
A fact that's false--the truth upon the lute
Will have to find its voice among the meek.

We pass the blame and overhead the sun
Will pass to torch the garden--now the plan
Can play itself to bear new fruit--don't shun
The game instilled since time and space began.

The cycle finds its life upon its break
To spiral 'til creation is awake.

Thursday, November 22, 2018


You made today a perfect day
And all I had to do was wake by you--
You're like the flowers, birds in May,
The fresh, deep smell of early morning dew.

You made this week a perfect week
And all you had to do was be by me--
The blackest clouds can't make life bleak--
When life's too hot, you are my shady tree.

You made this year a perfect year
And all you had to do was hold my hand--
In all life's storms I have no fear
Because I know beside me you will stand.

You made this life a perfect life
And all we had to do was fall in love--
Yes, when you chose to be my wife
My heart would blossom like a spring foxglove. 

Monday, November 19, 2018


In Heaven from the mountains flows sweet milk
That fills the valleys with their opal silk
That quenches every thirst--yes, gone the thirst
For water, knowledge, wisdom--you will burst
As an exploding star with all you'll know
And understand, and yet you'll surely grow
With love and joy--and you shall bow and nod
As you join, head-to-head, the form of God.