Deeper than Knowledge


Great words are unclouded and apt
They need to flow freely and cannot be capped.
Great understanding is determined and rooted
In learning, the path undisputed.

Understanding requires some effort,
The links of perception all severed.
We project meaning past the rim of our world,
Our deepest convictions can never be furled.

Knowledge originates in patience and skill
It is gained by learning and having strong will.
Active understanding, the ability to question
By its very nature illustrates expression.

Understanding is deeper than knowledge
Where perception of meaning pays homage.
Understanding, an instrument of expression
Can quickly become the darkest obsession.


2014 in Review

The stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 1,200 times in 2014. If it were a cable car, it would take about 20 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Long Live Mom


To his father’s dismay, Michael likes to watch cooking shows and British comedy.

The other day we were watching Top Chef when I ask Michael “Do you think you might want to be a chef?”

“No, it’s a little disgusting,” he responds. “I still want to be a scientist when I grow up.”

“I’m so proud of you,” I say.

“I hope you’re not going to die soon because I want you to see me be a scientist when I grow up.”

“I’m not going to die. I have a long way to live,” I laugh.

“How much longer?” asks Michael.

“Another 60 years,” I say in a huff.

Don’t tell him I’ll be 100 years old in 60 years, but I have decided that I WILL live that long.


This poem was written in response to a challenge: pick the third or seventh book on your shelf and open to a specific page. Take the first five words of the first sentence in the third paragraph and make it the first line in your poem.

My book: Darkness Awakened.

First two lines (for context): “Swearing, he pushed them harder, knowing that whatever was stalking them would be fast on their tail. He had to get the rookies clear before their enemy caught up.”

My take was quite… different.



Swearing, he pushed them harder
His hips pounding away with all ardor.
Breathless she took all of him,
Almost forgetting he was only a whim.

Body accepting with a wavering heart,
Her final performance, a beautiful part.
In a game of endurance, long and extreme
His final dance ended her with a scream.

Her contented sigh made so unwilling,
For a moment real, sweet, and fulfilling.
His heart enveloped her from within,
She was his one, made just for him.

She stood over him, watching him sleep,
Sad eyes, determined, almost wanting to weep.
As she twisted the knife deep in his heart,
She closed her eyes and kissed him good night.

© Copyright 2014 Olivia G. Owens. All rights reserved.

The Power of Stink

I read that a child’s sense of humor needs to be developed. This came as a surprise to me. As a parent, I have always goofed around with my children. I do not consider myself particularly funny, but I do seem to have a natural knack of making people laugh.

Being receptive to Michael’s silliness has clearly helped his sense of humor.

One day, as I was putting on deodorant, Michael asks me “Mama, whatcha doing?”

“I am putting on deodorant. I don’t want to get stinky armpits.”

I then asked, “Do you have armpit stink?”

Michael thinks about it for a second, “I have butt stink.”

Now what do I say to that? After all, it is true.

Art and Magic


Many beautiful things they say
The heart will never see as grey.
Rather than see, the heart will feel,
What’s not perceived it will reveal.

In love the heart firmly believes;
Despite its love it also grieves.
So many wear it on their sleeves,
It’s vulnerable to all thieves.

A loving heart will always know
The world is happy and aglow.
A happy heart will always hear,
What is not whispered in your ear.

Your head will always be at odds,
While your heart will float on clouds.
The head is often ruled by logic,
Whereas your heart is filled with magic.

Accept the thing to which fate binds you
To love the people it brings through.
Do this with all your caring heart,
Love is not science but an art.

© Copyright 2014 Olivia G. Owens. All rights reserved.