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

What happens to the sleep we didn’t get,
words we did not heed, or tears never allowed
to travel down our cheek?
                          Those weeks, or months,
you refuse to speak of; what happened?
Then.
                         What became
of the people we didn’t need, or like,
or replaced? Have you given any thought to
what you meant to them? Once upon a time
fairy tale or delusion.
Shared.
                        Then, remember
the personalities or prospects,
the ones where you didn’t have the self-respect
to introduce yourself to.
                        Where was your confidence,
                        or willingness to bare your soul?
                Easier, is it not, to confide in a stranger?
Those familiar with your ways,
those who have read a few chapters of your story
may not understand
your reservation.
                                                    Someone back when
                       knew you well, wanted to know more,
                       then gave up.
Or was that you?
                       Emotions enrich our lives,
                       as easily as they can destroy
                       all we stay alive for.
           Is that a reason to hold back?
There was once value in vulnerability.
Now; well, you know.
          If you rephrase the question,
          are the answers still the same?
                       Long past a series of coincidences,
                           the obscenity of silence remains.

© 2018 j.g. lewis

Yesterday did not go as planned.
   I had things to do – things I needed to do – that simply did not get done.
   Lately, many days have been like that. More than I care to admit.
   Some days I fail to see all that I have.
   Other days I’m unsure where I am going, even when I try to adjust my
way of thinking or alter my direction.
   When I struggle with all this negativity, I don’t (or can’t) take into
consideration the many good things that I possess.
   I’m too caught up in the emotional traffic and feelings of anger that
rise up from the disappointment that I can’t focus on the task at hand.
   I don’t think I’m unique.
   I believe we all have things we want to accomplish.
   We don’t all struggle. Few of us admit we are nowhere near where
we need to be. None of us are perfect.
   I am flawed.
   Some days I can’t quite see past all the imperfections, but still
   I will keep trying.
   I don’t want today to simply turn into yesterday.

Warning signs, dashboard indicators, red flags,
continual reminders of what is ahead, or
what follows at breakneck speed. Too fast; 
too busy, too confused, we yield not to the signals,
but push ahead, our direction, our intention,
our destination more important
than anyone else. Even suspended in traffic,
all four lanes, our refusal to allow others in
is more than stubbornness. Sharing neither
caution or common courtesy, we will not alter
or acknowledge our route.
To do so is to admit less power, or that we may
have lost our way. Distance and time
the only measure of where we are going, or
how we will get there. We navigate the commute
between the reality we live with, and that
which is expected, our individual emissions
contributing to the noxious fumes we ingest. Daily.
Driving forward, but not ahead, running on empty,
through a cracked windshield we see, or believe,
nothing will harm us. Road rage, we curse
under our breath. or shout foul-mouthed insults
at those behaving as we are, refusing right-of-way.
To anybody. Self-motivated or selfish,
it makes little difference at any speed. We fail
to notice a world that passes us by. Look,
perhaps a shoulder check. It may take a glance
in the review mirror to remind us life is precious.
Slow down. Pay attention. Let others in.

©2016 j.g. lewis

One last burst of courage
shocking beyond definition
                       for only a time.

A few moments into November, a few months
before a new year when January’s breath arrives
with darkness.

                       A bleak forecast.

Temperatures drop slowly
each night as days shorten;
notably noticeable in November’s most gradient scale of time.

We wake to this splendor only for a few days,
each sight promising more again next year.

Until then, more grey before winter white or worse.

©2021 j.g. lewis