We want to know what
we don’t know, or hadn’t thought of,
or forgot.
What mattered then,
or what mattered when, shifts over time.
We notice.
Perception is what you don’t see.
Deception is what know.
You see it differently through your aloneness.
The truth behind a lie,
you question how and why.
It made sense.
Anticipation keeps us waiting
for only so long. Will it matter
if you felt it never did?
© 2021 j.g. lewis
Slow down: even with the ideas that come to quicky. Take the time to acknowledge the feelings that arrive, as they arrive.
Write it down. How else will you remember what you were thinking?
Print neatly. You hardly understand the thoughts at the time, why make it more difficult to comprehend weeks or years from now?
Follow your own logic; only you need to truly make sense of what is happening, or all that has happened.
Pay attention to the lessons of the past. Be mindful that not all are worth repeating.
Clarity. Make corrections as you go. Flaws become more difficult to correct the longer you live with them.
11/14/2024 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.
Aged and infirmed,
cancer-ridden and cantankerous;
a rogue among the dying, diseased,
and demented, caught
sneaking a cigarette Discounting
the munificence of borrowed time.
Hacking, then spitting, a milky blend
of blood-tarnished phlegm and
syrupy saliva onto the hospital’s
freshly-polished linoleum.
Fuck you whore, his clarion call
of protest to the night-shift nurse,
attempting to seize the shouldering
butt. A forced, yet sincere, smile
as she successfully snatched the
contraband from the wizened,
gnarled hand. Already tired
of tucking these inglorious bastards
into bed, she will leave the spittle
for the morning crew. They could
deal with the shit, piss, or blood
that would surely flow
through the night. Indignation
below her pay grade.
©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.
