D. H. Kerby was born in California to left-liberal parents who were also political journalists. He was educated on the East Coast of the United States and in Europe, focusing mainly on physics and philosophy, viewing the latter as providing an opportunity to improve his opinion about what sort of government is best. His journalism has appeared in Los Angeles Times, San Diego Magazine, The Progressive Populist, Consortium News, and elsewhere. Trying to understand what was between the lines of the newspapers to which his mother and father paid so much attention, he has traveled in some twenty-five foreign countries, many of which were undergoing profound social or political transformation. In 1990, he was an assistant to political prisoners and their families in Cape Town, South Africa, meeting many men and women as they emerged from the crucible of apartheid's notorious prisons to which they had been consigned for resisting white minority rule. Kerby's opposition to U.S. intervention in Central America had by then taken him to Nicaragua, which he visited during the contra war. He has worked for The Association for Responsible Dissent and its successor organization, the Association of National Security Alumni, organizations of former U.S. intelligence officers and interested others. The second group worked for greater transparency and more Congressional oversight and control of U.S. intelligence agencies. His first book, It Fell From the Sky, It Must be Ours (Blitz: Dhaka, 2006) was praised in these terms by Peter Dale Scott, former Canadian diplomat and Professor Emeritus of English Literature at U.C. Berkeley: "Kerby's short epic is an awakened poem of the nightmare we live in, one in which both religion and science are at the service of oppressors. More intensely personal and self-questioning than Ginsberg's Howl, his poem also gives more authentic snapshots of our chaotic world, from the streets of Jerusalem, Frankfurt, Managua, and Port-au-Prince to the pressroom of the United Nations. Readers will share his vivid experiences, whether of an unfolding military coup d'etat, or of invasive psychiatric obtuseness. Above all, one feels the agony of 'a man of peace in a situation of war.'" He is a survivor of torture and now makes his home in Philadelphia with his wife, Carol, and her son, Mark.