99. The Bottle. (26th July 2015)

This was an idea that was born in the heat of last nights (26th July) “July in the round” at the Bluebird Cafe. The first 7 or 8 lines I had to carry carefully home, as well as the germ of the review, in case they drifted away like a mist.  Inspiration knows how to pick its moments. Second sets are always interesting when you have an idea to nurture as well as a show to enjoy.

99. The bottle. (26th July 2015.)

The bottle was filled,
Full up with whisky,
From the bottom to its top,
And I would drink it all,
All straight back again,
All the way to falling down,
And then slow and careful,
I will go and stand up,
In the staggering way,
Of a hurtful brand new day,
Then picking up its glass shell,
Take the spirit of the night just gone,
Back to the Inn,
To put back in,
An amber body,
Into this glass shell,
To give the spirit substance,
And an empty shell that holds it precious,
A meaning and a reason,
To get up tomorrow morning,
After once more falling,
Or do I mean laying,
I definitely mean.

© Jim Laing 2015.

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.
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