What will you do, what should you do, when nothing
has been prepared for you as it was supposed to be? No
organization, little thought, and even less hope. Aren’t
we all to rely on what is expected of us? Nothing is
predetermined or planned, no consideration; even less
than the intrusion. What can we know? What will you
remember? What can you do when nothing is ready
for you? Questions always; the answers not inspiring.
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no consideration
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acuity
lines align
horizontally
v
e
r
t
i
c
a
l
l
y a grid is formedparallel lines mark our lifetime
yet the obvious is not apparentfocus on the dot
centre of screenlook closely at all
that you perceivewe cannot always see straight ahead
and hindsight seldom serves a purposedistortions or distractions
breaks in the lines clarity
acuityyour central vision is not
the same on the peripheryat a distance do you readily
recognize common formsyou will not see things like me
you will not see the same
through
each eye or
each otheropen or shut
are all the lines complete enough
even in the black and white
there are many areas of grey
not all lines remain
clear and straightlines converge
edges distortlike life
we rarely seethe complete picture
© 2023 j.g. lewis
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Scars Remain
Bruised. Beat up.
Each day we hurt; each day we heal some way:
physically, spiritually, superficially
in most cases.
We exist with pain
we cannot forget, nor will we get past.It moves with us
through phantom limbs. What is, what it was,
or what will never be. No matter how
we squirm, meditate, medicate
or mask our wounds
we bleed.You cannot wipe
the taste of an old lover from your lips,
a parent’s words echo, mistakes sustained.
Thoughts better left for dead,
and very much alive.
Terminal disappointment.Remove the dressing,
scars remain: reminders; where we have been,
what we have done or
what has been done
to us. Excuses solemnly validate
our existence.This art of living
involves exquisite deception. Calloused knees bent,
we pick at scabs from prayer
or surrender. Impressions remain
pressed into the skin.
Of course we hurt.Who better would know
the fundamental truth of the human experience?
Tear off the bandage,
the wounds will breathe. Proof
we have done something that can and will
make us stronger.© 2019 j.g. lewis
April is Poetry Month
it moves with us -
not uncommon
Often in the night
you can’t let go of the day. It is not a problem, or concern,mainly it is the way you think instead of dream.
You plan, you scheme.
You fit words
into the spaces.It is not uncommon, each night and often, to stare and search
for comfort in thoughts that should be dreams.You can’t let go of the day. You simply don’t know
what to say to each circumstance that has, then, become a concern.
Often. Then is no moral or resolution to take hold of,
but you cannot let go.All that you know, ashamed of emotions, the mendacity of the mind
seeking substance instead of sleep.It is power when we feel weak.
© 2023 j.g. lewis
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Bending Light
Refraction. Reflection.
Gradient tones of expression,
landscapes or history,
our light rarely follows a straight line.
Curves. Diagonally,
adjustment required in space or
sign, it seeps through cracks
moves forcefully beyond sublime.Unusually unaware,
we cannot control the capacity, or
silence, of corresponding darkness.
An unlikely presence of another mind.
Intimacy initially.
To those who dare expose themselves,
our light will not be altered
but eternally fortified.Transcendent existence,
born unto an incidental state, we
cannot separate stigma from strata.
Dust on the wind, particles of matter.
Fragmentation, alienation,
morals to immortality, holding tight
all we believe is crucial.
Our life rarely follows a straight line.©2018 j.g. lewis