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.
Month: April 2019
He chose to neglect
a nursing spouse,
restless in the marriage bed;
comfort solely to a son
fresh from the womb.
He chose flesh, instead;
the cunt of a wanton woman.
Smell of feckless sin,
restless in a wedded state,
his needs differed
from her wants.
Damage done. Decades later,
she reminds herself
how unworthy she was
of a love not born from her.
He never knew.
He never cared.
© 2019 j.g. lewis
APRIL IS POETRY MONTH
fresh poetry served every day
That familiar taste,
commonplace. Each morning
anticipation, your psyche
awakens to the sound
or sight. Beyond daylight,
end of night; always slow
until you break your fast.
Delightful steam,
a fresh brew, nothing stands
between certain pleasure
and you.
Some days it is the coffee.
Some days it is the quiet.
Many days
you are in a rush,
yet always find time
for the morning cup.
04/08/2019 j.g.l.
APRIL IS POETRY MONTH
fresh poetry served every day
If we seek to understand the self
are we not then attempting to
analyze each emotion as if it is
experienced by us all?
We have not all known love, or
grief, or envy, but we do have
poetry available to us.
04/07/2019 j.g.l.
