93. The mist. (22 June 15).

I wasn’t going to post this having just finished it. I was going to sit on it until the moment felt right, sometime when, sometime never. But typing now it weighs like a duty I’m bound to, to swallow pride and nervous energy, and publish this anyway.

To borrow a now classic catch phrase from a recent gig, “Fuck it!”

 

For anyone who’s ever seen
The ignorant and the aloof,
The callous and the cold,
The awkward and just plain wrong,
This is, in part, explanation only,
For being myself there is no apology,
It takes more than one to make someone anyway.

93. The mist. (22 June 15).

Confidence, always, has been like a mist,
Sometimes I can breathe it in,
But most of the time it hangs,
Right in front of the nose on my face,
It floats there clearly within my grasp,
While taunting me just out of reach,

Not as simple as here today,
Not as tidy as gone tomorrow,
It works better with egg timers,
Than it does calendars,
This fickle friend who tortures,
That pains more than it ever pleases.

© Jim Laing 2015.

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About Jim Laing

The Buddha said there were four kinds of people. Those who run from dark to dark, those who run from light to dark, those who run from dark to light and those who run from light to light. From a life going from dark to dark to having a few years running from dark to light, with scuffed hands and knees from sometimes falling, I may be getting the hang of it now. How it began is not now how it is, I need a quiet space, After the noise of the day, So I take sanctuary in the creativity, And my soul feeds, On sometimes dark, Sometimes light fantasy, And I dare like many to work, But stay up off my knees, To dream, perchance to suffer, But always still to dream. Here are things mostly lyrical and poetic, with nonsense sometimes, reviews and personal musings. The coffees hot and always black. The words not necessarily so.
This entry was posted in Lyrics & poems and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to 93. The mist. (22 June 15).

  1. Jim Laing says:

    Reblogged this on It Started In The Kitchen and commented:

    Tip of the iceberg sometimes, and almost inadequate as a description occasionally, but the best I can do to sum it up anywhere near succinctly.

    Like

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