Labouring under the false pretence there is somewhere to go,
Teaching those who don’t hear the lessons we should know.
Find a quiet corner, watch dust motes laze in the sun,
Hiding from the psycho shooter with their gun.
The lens of light so bright at night, the strength of feeling mostly right,
The place to go is now and here, ignore the scary voice of fear.
I’m sorry I didn’t mean it, scarce nary, not at all,
Forgive me hurting you, release me from your thrall.
I sit upon a toadstool, on a long hot summers jam
I try to duck and weave insects buzz round who I am.
They tick and click and buzz and flutter,
Cajole and entail, command and stutter.
Yet when I sit and look back, clear and single eyed,
Tis the self they are transferring, that is most easy spied.
I’m told I don’t get it, I am blunt rock to their sharp,
told I have so much to learn, my paper they will harp.
I listen like a ladies ear piece, a time of more vigour,
But what it is I’m hearing, I can no longer figure.
Seems to me the more I learn the less it is I know,
Seems to me the harder I try the stumpier I grow.
So oft is wisdom hidden..
where all is plain to see...
Those that know don’t say.....
And those that say don’t see.....
David Jackman Spring 2014
David Jackman December 2019.....
I think often now about what I am learning and how easy it is to forget if I don't practice, practice, practice. How true it seems to me that the more I think I know the less I have learned!.
I have been an apologist, excusing myself from getting the point cos I was too busy making it.
Looking back I saw myself as some Alice in Wonderland character; living a fantasy delusion all of my own creating. Now...
Well now I live according to my best version....... That's the one that's right here and right now! that will do for me....
Tis just my thinking.