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.
Fading. A matter of time.
Deep consideration for those
left behind. The choice, quiet and clean.
Always leave a lasting impression.
Hidden exhaustion; tired of trying, of
wanting, of waiting for a question
that would never arrive. Now questions
unanswered; final thoughts never
to be known. Expectations claw
dangerously at the soul until
little remains. One-sided memories
redolent in cologne-scented images:
his smile, his habits, his voice, his lips
and the deceit that spewed from them.
Lips that had, once, served her well.
She could still feel tingles by herself,
gasping at the thought of a touch.
An indulgent afternoon. Shopping,
hair and manicure. Elegance. New shoes,
matching clutch. A pretty dress. Dinner
at La Maquette, two bottles of Chablis,
then Tiramisu, a final treat. Credit card.
Big tip for a waiter who fawned over her,
as always. Acknowledged. Appreciated.
Dining alone tonight?
Now home. Solitude, not tranquility.
A sumptuous life, mostly, as she chose
to remember. Gently slipping into
somnolence. Her own comfort, finally.
Fresh bed linens, fragrance, fine lingerie,
a favourite lipstick unmistakably marking
the edge of another glass of wine.
Glamourous, yes, she would
leave behind a beautiful corpse.
©2017 j.g. lewis
Poem Kubili is an international
companionship of poets with
a common love of writing and
reading poetry. To read more of
of the group’s collected works
visit poemkubili.com
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.