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.
Collar upturned, scarf scratching
against the skin, eyes tearing as furious winds
find their way, we protect ourselves
from the intermittently indifferent month
of November. As only we can.
Atmosphere duly moistened
by pent up frustration in joys not found,
unfostered friendships, and decline
in the value of our self-worth,
deceit flows freely in these darker hours.
Our hardened hearts impervious
to even favoured words, we can hardly
hear ourselves speak, and better we not.
Each question delivered during these days
cannot summon an answer; even decisions
arrived at in November will wait.
December, with its warmer spirit and
delicate snow is then a softer month
for broken promises or shattered hearts.
We count not the days, but tolerate
this month of indecision, our time instead
sorting out emotions, impositions,
and lack of interest.
How does it feel from the inside?
The bitter cold slams against our silhouette,
while souls cry out for attention, admonition,
gentle hands or comfortable shoulder.
Even young bones creak loudly against
this change of season.
Even old souls forever remember
the intolerable month of November.
© 2017 j.g. lewis
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.