149. I wake up (A true story). (16 Oct 2016).

This was as literal as it sounds in the writing. Except that I hadn’t yet been to sleep last night. Make that this morning. I looked at the clock and it was 00:01.

But what I like about this most, is it’s rarity. It’s one of those pieces that, having had the idea as you’re just too comfy to roll over and grab the notebook to jot the idea down, you trust to memory. And memory comes through for you. Completely and utterly.

Yes it’s just a whimsical wee piece, but if you write at all, you’ll know how rare that is. It’s usually kicking yourself in the morning because you know you lost an idea, however good, bad or indifferent it may have turned out to have been.

149. I wake up (A true story). (16 Oct 2016).

I wake up,

And I look at the clock,

It says oh oh : oh one,

At last,

Tomorrow’s finally come,

But it had to take,

Until today to arrive,

When it was yesterday,

That I really needed it.


© Jim Laing 2016.

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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