sunlight navigates its way
between
what was and what
is still to come
friday
not just any day
you find the freedom
to notice
transformation happening
as it should
look up
will you see what you should
or observe
all you have neglected
04/26/2024 j.g.l.
Qualifying questions, remedial response.
Knowledge of situations often haunt.
What we know or have been told.
We tell ourselves we just don’t know.
Answers formed by thoughts untold.
Rumour and misinformation often sold.
Conspiracy theories tend to rule the day.
Bare truth and logic will get in the way.
04/22/2024 j.g.l.
Current Thoughts
Open your mouth, let words
bypass lips. Converse consciously
to brethren or bystanders.
Reach out to
close friends gone amiss.
Be not afraid, not now, of
articulating current thoughts and
accomplishments of which
you are proud, and even your sins
(for we have all owned a few)
might seem far less tragic
from an altered point of view.
Give fresh voice
to insecurities and anxieties hidden
within your self, speak highly of
those dusty dreams
languishing on a shelf.
Past sullen moments cast a
lengthy shadow, short-term
expectations tend to dull down
long-term possibilities.
Talk freely around all you want,
or hope, or desire to be.
Each intention will resonate
with those who wholly believe.
Understanding takes effort.
© 2024 j.g. lewis
April 18th is Poem in Your Pocket Day
a day to celebrate poetry by selecting a poem,
carrying it in your pocket, and sharing with the
friends and strangers who cross your path.
Share a poem wherever the day takes you, as you
would share a smile, a gesture, or your kindness.
Sharing is caring.
April is Poetry Month
take a poem to lunch
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.
An early morning walk through the downtown streets led me past a message sprayed across the sidewalk, a reminder of what we all should be doing:
Find what you love and let it kill you.
We all have those things we have to do. We have to work to pay bills, provide for families, and acquire the things to make our lives a little more comfortable, but what do we do after the basics have been covered? What do you do after you have done what you have to do? Do you find time to do what you need to do? Are you working on an interest or following a passion?
Passion, yeah, that’s what it’s all about; finding that passion, that thing, activity or pursuit, that gets your blood boiling and gets you excited about life. What hobby, interest, craft, or practice are you involved with as a distraction from the day in/day out?
What lights you up, outside of your personal relationships, career, or random obligations?
Perhaps it’s French cooking, oil painting, photography, or guitar? It may be woodworking, or collecting stamps, or jazz records, or butterflies. It doesn’t need to be what everybody else is doing, but it should be something that stimulates the less-used corners of the mind, or gets the body functioning in ways it doesn’t usually operate.
It may be creative, or intellectual, or physically demanding, but when you do it enough, and when it clicks, you cannot wait to do more. And more. It might even become an obsession (but, like, in a good way).
It becomes something that you do; something that makes you you. . . at least something that will inspire you to be the person you are.
I’ve just come out of Poetry Month, a period devoted to writing nothing else but poetry. I ignore, or put off, what I probably should be doing, and for 30 days I focus deeper and further on this one subject more than the other eleven months of the year.
I can’t totally explain why, or even how, poetry gets me thinking, and working, in ways that command this sort of attention, but I do know I love poetry (both writing and reading). As far as I’m concerned, Death by Poetry doesn’t sound like such a bad way to go.
What’s killing you?
05/01/17 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.