poem

My mind is like the needle

at the end of a record,

endlessly cuh-shuh cuh-shuhing

in the final groove.

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Why do I do it?

What is philosophy? And why do I care?

Free Will Part Deux

The beginnings of a discussion of compatibilism v. incompatibilism.

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Podcast 2. Here it is!

Baby's First Podcast

I'm podcasting. I think. Try this link and let me know.

poem

words like leaves

Words, like leaves,
fall past my fingers
and linger
for a moment, then wither
in the sunlight –
bright brittle reminders
of poems I might have written.

Poem

The Soul Has Gone

Without will
everything is physical now;
the matter of the world
is all that I can feel.

Forward movement of limbs,
wind pushing from this side
now that; the rustling leaves
keep me alive.

Bodies colliding
give off energy. The heat
and light of the world
all that matters now.

Sleepless gnashing of teeth,
breath coming soft, now
hard and fast, dreams of
falling; gravity forcing me down.

Walking in the sunlight
is the last of my life, hard
concrete sidewalks, shouts
of children hidden from view.

No presence or absence
of beauty, just sound, sight,
smell, taste, touch without
judgment; I am a mere body.