New arts

There are parts of this world I struggle to appreciate  
And that is fully on me
If I don't make an active effort to investigate
I will think there is no beauty 

I grew up in one place
Through a single passage of time
Mostly, people were one race
And didn't worry about crime

I have deeply loved learning through friends
The many ways it is possible to live
All the means that can reach their ends
The bounty each culture has to give

Every time, it is effort to start
Being a novice amongst scholars
Slowly, it enrichens the heart
The beats echo with each holla

And you appreciate something you didn't before
You see more beauty in a world which is already overflowing
Because it wont be long until you see one thing more
That people seem to love but you don't get where it's going

And then, each time, the choice is up to you
So that, eventually, you may follow it too

Scientific Poetry

There is a beauty in science that I struggle to translate
There are numbers that don't turn neatly into words
I can understand, fluently, I just can't integrate
These two different languages and what they've inferred

It's not just the terms within each equation
It is, I guess, their etymology
The fact each solution came from a question
The puzzle that helped it come to be

I see the years of struggle behind the headline
The rigour from which a model was spawned
The peer review and pained corrections you find
Before the science can truly be performed

I would love to write more poems on science, to make it a little less dry
But it can only be a translation. Even still, I will try.

Lost art

This is a poem for all the lost masterpieces
Visual lyrical musical theses
Left out in aether where we'll never see them
Until now, somehow. Join me in the unrealised museum

Past a warm reception just to struggle down corridors
Knowing you'll get there you just have to work some more
To an exhibition dedicated only to what could have been
All the ideas abandoned before what they were meant to mean

Now, hark! Pay attention! Bare witness!
Four and a half bars of an unfinished symphony the could have brought bliss
The starting brushstrokes not abstract enough on the canvas
A character with an arc but no world to explore
Some stone with rough chisel showing a shape at the core
All of them, desperately, needing a little bit more

Not every unfinished idea may be worth the time
Not every couplet has a good matching rhyme
But within this hall of unrealised potential
Is art that could have been so darn consequential

Couldn't figure out the puzzle? Life got in the way?
Boom, another lost work is put on display
Let it live in the real world, so it doesn't end up here
You can't choose to finish everything, just how much to persevere

Causation

Are we all just part of the chain?
The endless sequence of cause and effect
Bound by the gears in our brain?
To have always caused the action to lead to regret?

If you built an algorithm with enough terms
Would it be predictable in each part?
With the same freewill as the birds and the worms
Do we simply count to the last beat of our heart?

I've been studying causation
And where it all leads
Isn't a perfect equation
With all it needs

It's guessing. Because we don't know everything.
We're just doing our best, which at this point ain't nothing!
But it's assumptions and trying to grow where we can.
For better or worse, we're not more mathematics than man.