Fiction & Poetry

I have a few science fiction short stories published under the pen name "Ken Katsujin".

Ken Katsujin is a play on words expressing a humanist ideal that the expression of the martial ideal is to protect life and civilization.  I'm a martial artist influenced by zen ideal of a warrior-poet/warrior-scholar and the samurai concept of "one who serves."  If a Japanese were to write their name, the last name would be first, making it Katsujin Ken, a famous martial arts saying meaning "the sword that gives life or protects life" (as opposed to the opposite concept, Satsujin Ken, "the murderous sword," or the "sword that takes life"). 


2013 (FICTION): “Complications/Yearning/Longing,” Kalkion 2010
Abstract: A condemmed revolutionary is being taken for trial on a captured comet, accompanied only by his law enforcement escort.
2010 (FICTION): “UAS: Unmanned Aerial System,” Kalkion 2010
Abstract: What is it like to be an artificially intelligent UAV alone and unfraid on a mission beyond command and control?  This short SF story is about just that.
2010 (FICTION): “The Last Caballero,” Kalkion 2010
Abstract: What is it like to be immortal in a post-Singularity world on the verge of becoming both a O'Neillian civilization, complete with Space Elevators and Solar Power Satellites, and about to become an intersellar faring civilization as well?

2010 (FICTION): “Seed”,  Kalkion 2010
Abstract: What would happen if the synbio billionaires and the space billionaires teamed up to spread life to the great beyond, beyond the reach of government as well?

2010 (FICTION): “Infestation,” Kalkion 2010
Abstract: A young man on a reality TV show has a solution to a major galactic problem.  Learn about his personal story and what is the problem he must solve.

2010 (FICTION): “Clockcycle”,  Kalkion 2010
Abstract: A tribute written for my brother Leif, who died in 2008.  How does one cope with loss in a post-singularity world where we live as uploaded beings in the process of constructing a Dyson sphere around our Sun.


A couple of my Poems ("Days of Spendor" and "A Question of Being Known as a Poet") are posted:

Serenity Unleashed
This Morning I find
Myself in a moment of immense serenity
Blessed Tranquility
Gone is the life urge
Gone is the death urge
Gone is the voracious cupidity
The need to devour all things
The fear that life is short
The buffet will end
Absent is the sirens call
Absent is the weight of coercion
Of coming to the end of one’s rope
Of an axe hanging over one’s head
Of the voices that shout so loud —
Their proposed actions,
Their judgments,
Their name calling
Prurience, Passion, Desperation, Indecision, insecurity…
Pent up, unexpressed
Today no part of me feels caged, leashed
No pressure asks me to be what I am not
No decision begs me to make it
Time is not my enemy today
I possess, I am not possessed
There is no echo chamber in my mind
No pounding in my heart,
No roiling in my loins
The banshees and demons have deserted me,
Quieted by I know not exactly what
Today I walked in the early hours
Among the birds
And their singing
My body, my mind is quiet today
A glorious place to rest
The tiger walks alone in mists
Hungry for nothing
But his own company
And his walk
Striding in the power of self possession.

A Question of Being Known as a Poet

Here I sit
Late for work
Freezing Rain
And Contemplate

Should the world
Know me
As a Poet

Should it remain my 
Private refuge
As it was introduced
To me

Or share
My deep insights
and pains

With my unknown kinsmen
My sisters and brothers

Who suffer, yearn, and breath
as I do

In the loneliness
Of being human

That only the Pen
And eyes that can read
Can bridge

Allowing the intimacy
Of some unknown other
To think our thoughts
and feel our feelings
As if their own

My pen a bridge, and arrow
My thoughts, a message in a bottle

In Days of Splendor

In days of Splendor

we, young men, 
imagined ourselves to be perfect like gods
but our feet
not bronze but clay, gave way, 
to torrents of our tears
today we lie, no longer proud,
but at least
our back is cradled by fragrant dirt
and our eyes are turned to stars


Melancholy swells my Soul
When thinking of leaving Friends behind
The Laughter, the Ambition, and wine
A time set apart, Timeless
Like the Grand Mosque of Delhi...standing still, in the warm night
The beauty of conversation
The thick sent of air, pregnant with possibilities
Intoxicating, in its own way
As we talk of of identity, and history, and destiny
What plans were laid here tonight?
What edifices?  What Castles in the Sky?
How few in the world with whom,
So engrossed, so carefree
Talk of mundane and legacy?
I will hold a candle for this time.
A time like youth, but not


There stands a man
inscrutable, and cryptic
he tastes the modern world like ash and tar from a cigarette
He scowls, and tells you its bad.
Then draws another breath.
And utters a couplet
that strangely seals the conversation
but shouldn't


Once I felt 
A unity
An integrity
Like a shining diamond
Like a clear sheet of glass
But I was
I am
I am shards
And I feel
The emptiness
And jaggedness
Of my own inner edges
That do not fit
That chaffs

The rays of light
That once passed through
How many ways they travel
And get trapped
Reflected and translucent and sparkling
Revealing the manifold surfaces
Of my complex soul

How I long again to know a simplicity
That is impossible
For what thing that once shattered
Is ever whole again?