Inteview of Troy Camplin on Diaphysics and Hear the Screams of the Butte...

Your Words

Behold the supple sounds of words that slip
So easy from your fluid tongue and trip
Across your teeth and fall across your lip
That help you hold or make you lose your grip.

Do they make bonds of beauty, boundless--bear
New knowledge, wisdom, virtues, make us fair
Here in the world--do they bring smiles of care
Or bring on bravery and make us dare?

Beware the sinister, cruel words that weigh
And break and bruise, intended to delay
The births of dancers for the dawning day,
Designed to trip, make slip, our virtue's play.

With every word you utter all the Earth
Will tilt to Heaven or to Hell in worth.

The Warm Glow of Trade

The market milled with women, men who made
To sell and sought to buy, and from this wrought
A greater value for themselves--each sought
Advantage, but each gained through mutual trade.
Each trader left the other pleased, each bade
The other happy days--the buyer bought,
The seller sold, each having what they ought--
Each gained, for money is an accolade.

In trade there's trust, and always value grows
To fill our lives with value, happiness--
Each trade is trust, and trust is bond--each bind
Brings people closer--every person knows
What better binds us is true moralness--
Thus markets make us better, warm and kind.

Enlightenment

The sun is speaking in cicada song,
And as the heat intensifies we hear
The trees burst out with buzzing, blazing cheer.

But surely what he says to us is wrong--
We wonder at his words and sip our beer
And as the heat intensifies we hear
The trees burst out with buzzing, blazing cheer.

We raise our cup before this noisy throng--
There's nothing here on earth we hold more dear,
Yet in this field admit that we all fear
The sun is speaking in cicada song,
And as the heat intensifies we hear
The trees burst out with buzzing, blazing cheer.

Saith the Plush Hedgehog

I am a hedgehog, prickly and proud

My name is Kerficowitz—shout it out loud!

Silicon

The sand is swirling in the wind--I grasp
The sand here in my hand and with a flash
Of lightning spark and flatten it and send
Another lightning surge to make it dash

Into a simple form of thought, if/then,
And/or, a simple switch and route, a one
And none to make this simple sand a flow
To calculate each aspect of the sun

And planets, galaxies, and other simple
Things crossing paths across the cosmos strands
In images of neurons neurons image
To help us calculate the swirling sands.