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
Our paths shift, circumstance and
attitude shaping our trajectory.
The company we keep alters both
our outlook and destination.
We are where we are
mainly because of who we are
and whom we are with.
04/16/2024 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.
By Whitney Poole
Eight years. They’ve passed in a blur. They’ve flown. And yet they’ve crept.
I remember, in your first year, I felt, “Finally. I’ve found what I’m meant to do with my life.” And then I forgot that. I thought it meant raising babies, but now I think it meant nurturing. Creating. Sharing Joy. Living in the light of now.
I lost that, baby girl. I tried to filter life through someone else’s lens. I didn’t sit with my soul. I forgot to be in the quiet until I felt the answers. I looked to others and asked what their answers were.
I took those answers and made them my walls. That’s where I went wrong, my sweet girl.
Then, when I finally started listening to my soul, I didn’t know what to do with the answers. So I turned again to others, and I asked what they thought of my answers.
I let their opinions become my truth.
So, baby, don’t let anyone else tell you who you are. Not me, not your Daddy, not your friends. You learn to sit and listen to your soul. Because you’re brave, my sweet girl. You’re brave enough to hear the answers and trust the truths whispered, even when it’s hard.
If you will ask the questions, be honest enough to hear the answers and brave enough to trust what you hear, then you will not be led astray. You will not fall off your own path. You will not neglect your soul purpose.
I want for you more than I have ever wanted for myself.
So, I want to let you know that I am finding my way. And my way; my path back to my soul purpose, will cause you pain. And for that I am so very sorry. But I hope that my example of living a life of ‘less than’ and making my way back to my truest potential will someday be one that shows you how to be true to you.
And I hope you will find a way to always be the perfect being I know you to be. Perhaps I can be the reminder to you that the pain and the fear you must overcome to be your best self are so very worth it.
May every year between this and your last be spent in the light of who you are.
All my love for all of my lives,
Mama
©2015 Whitney Poole
Whitney Poole is a Virginia-based writer, though her poetry reflects her own deep Southern roots. Whitney has found her voice while writing her way through personal transformation, discovering that true beauty lies within the rubble. Her self-appointed task is to show this truth to others.
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.