Hold…but do not hold.

There is not a thing in this life, that can be held onto;

Books, and their knowledge, do not follow us into the grave,

Nor the weight of a lover’s hand on the hip,

The warm mist of steamy tea coating the upper lip,

The richness of chocolate marvels melting, blooming,



There is not a thing that is permanent;

Stars burn out,

Day turns to night,

Cold slips into warmth.


Do not fret for a thing that will make no sense to dead


Do not mourn for a thing that will not light up dead eyes;

Do not wear anger, or pride, or hurt like a new funeral suit–

The dirt is full of decaying threads.


Sit still, and feel the beat of your heart in your chest,

Run wild, and forego the weight of regret,

Linger, and taste the sweetness of breath,

Soar, and enjoy the thrill of ‘trivial’ perils–


But do not, in the fullness of living,

The great pleasure of feeling,

The mad pace of achieving,


That none of it will go to the ground, or the flame,

or the waters with you.


Hold…but do not hold.


K.N.O.W. Sabbath, August 26th, 2016. 01.16 a.m.



It is on you–the lilting cry to be noticed, acknowledged; be seen as more than your poorly schooled past.

It is pungent, that fragrance: the one sourced from too-loud-laugh lily, and the overly exuberant ‘Hi-how-are-yous’ from your patch of morning glory.

What is it with you? and the loud, clashing brashness, of your attempts to be some universe’s big bang?

Do you fear that the subtlety of unslippered feet, will unearth some gap that will swallow your existence?

It is okay to sit in silence, and allow the vastness of the world to overwhelm you.

You will not cease to exist, if you learn to accept that sometimes one smile will suffice, where a thousand words cannot.

You will not be unanchored if a mind like mine, refuses to re-voice your ‘Good days’, and ‘Good nights’.

If anything, we have already tied you here, while listening to the vibrations of the Great Earth’s hum, beneath the thump-thump-thump of your _______ footsteps.

It is all right, good man, to seek the warm sun of Notice,

But I wish you would understand, that it will rise, and bless the land,

No matter what you do;

And for those of us who seek the shadows, because we sometimes prefer shade,

The heat of the sun still kisses us;

For we have learned to see through her glare.

K.N.O.W. Sunday, May 22, 2016. 12.42 p.m.

Because an extrovert has been annoying me lately 😐 Take with a grain of salt 🙂