The answers are far less certain
than even last week, to all those
perennial questions or solutions
you might seek.
What do you believe, or
what do you believe in?
Come Monday, you have fewer
questions than you had last week.
For a while there are less doubts
in what you believe.
Whom do you believe in,
and who believes in you?
11/18/2024 j.g.l.
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.
Old soul, that of a poet, voice
drenched in whiskey, melancholy
and grief. A long time to bleed the blues;
they don’t happen by themselves.
You won’t fully understand
until you suffer.
Long shadow of the darkest day
reaches out, a reminder always of
the brother you cannot forget.
Nothing and nobody will let you,
when the band
carries your name.
Decades of harsh addiction, criticism,
celebrity gossip and half-truths. A
survivor. More than a relic, more
than a footnote, not a turning point
but a sign on the
rock and roll highway.
Playing for yesterday, like he
meant it, heritage fills time with
old emotion and the truth. Resolution
comes only when allowed. Tomorrow
is no longer his, but
the voice rings out forever.
©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.
2 replies on “Until You Suffer”
Moving, heartfelt, universal. Thank you GH Lewis ?
thank you for responding . . . Allan had one of those voices that holds onto yesterday.