Qualifying questions, remedial response.
Knowledge of situations often haunt.
What we know or have been told.
We tell ourselves we just don’t know.
Answers formed by thoughts untold.
Rumour and misinformation often sold.
Conspiracy theories tend to rule the day.
Bare truth and logic will get in the way.
04/22/2024 j.g.l.
Current Thoughts
Open your mouth, let words
bypass lips. Converse consciously
to brethren or bystanders.
Reach out to
close friends gone amiss.
Be not afraid, not now, of
articulating current thoughts and
accomplishments of which
you are proud, and even your sins
(for we have all owned a few)
might seem far less tragic
from an altered point of view.
Give fresh voice
to insecurities and anxieties hidden
within your self, speak highly of
those dusty dreams
languishing on a shelf.
Past sullen moments cast a
lengthy shadow, short-term
expectations tend to dull down
long-term possibilities.
Talk freely around all you want,
or hope, or desire to be.
Each intention will resonate
with those who wholly believe.
Understanding takes effort.
© 2024 j.g. lewis
April 18th is Poem in Your Pocket Day
a day to celebrate poetry by selecting a poem,
carrying it in your pocket, and sharing with the
friends and strangers who cross your path.
Share a poem wherever the day takes you, as you
would share a smile, a gesture, or your kindness.
Sharing is caring.
April is Poetry Month
take a poem to lunch
Our paths shift, circumstance and
attitude shaping our trajectory.
The company we keep alters both
our outlook and destination.
We are where we are
mainly because of who we are
and whom we are with.
04/16/2024 j.g.l.
I'm like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
well-rounded,
other times
dull or
occasionally
broken.
Still I write.
j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.
Nuit Blanche
Poetry: it is what I do. Well, it’s not
all I do (and I should do more) but,
I do it a lot. I think it, a lot. I write it.
A lot.
Poetry.
Sometimes it seems to write itself, but
I take all responsibility for what flows
from my pencil.
I’ll even admit to owning it as it sits in
my notebook, or on some random
scrap of paper, before it appears here,
or there. Or somewhere.
Poetry.
I have always believed a poem is not
a poem until it is shared.
This weekend (Saturday in fact) I’ll be
sharing some of my poetry as part of
Toronto’s Nuit Blanche, as one of the
many performers in
KORSI
at The Gardiner Museum.
I’ll be reading at 8:30 p.m., and then
later in the night, or early in the morn,
some time between dusk and dawn
(it’s one of those all night things).
I won’t be the only poet, and there will
be belly dancing, singing, palm reading,
story telling, and a lot of music.
KORSI, an installation by Toronto’s Maziar
Ghaderi, follows a reinterpreted Iranian
tradition in the spirit of community and
togetherness.
Come and share the night
The Gardiner Museum, 111 Queens Park
Oct. 1 – 2 7 p.m. – 7 a.m.
I’m like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
well-rounded,
other times
dull or
occasionally
broken.
Still I write.
j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.