You wander.
We all do.
Uncertainty can often
blur your surroundings.
Unclear.
The map is always there,
the lines signify the path
you need to follow.
You simply have to find
the direction.
It is all in your hands.
© 2017 j.g. lewis
unclear
gr@ffiti
Anguish or confusion,
sometimes it is the way.
Anxiety takes over.
What else can you say
as you try to put aside all
the feelings that dog you
anyway. No pain today.
Try as you might to
see your way through.
No pain. Not today.
09/14/2023 j.g.l.
Mondays are just young Fridays
There is very little that can be said about Eric Clapton that hasn’t already been said; except I saw him last night.
I’ve been listening to the musician, in all stages of his career, over the past five decades and he has been around even longer than that.
Through the years I’ve grown to appreciate Clapton more as a performer, recording artist, and as one of the greatest guitarists of all time, but I’ve never seen him live; until last night.
He was everything (and more) that I expected, playing selections from his lengthy career, and paying homage not only the blues artists who have influenced him but also to friends no longer with us.
Clapton and his band kicked of the Toronto concert with a cover of The Band’s The Shape I’m in, a fitting tribute to his longtime Canadian friend Robbie Robertson. Then, later, a tune he once recorded with Tina Turner: Tearing Us Apart.
The show was filled with both popular hits and selections you could tell he felt like playing. With a catalogue like Clapton’s there could have been even more hits, but he did what he had to do.
At age 79, Clapton’s seemingly effortless prowess on electric and acoustic guitar was both mature and effective. There were a lot of “wow” moments.
It was quite an evening.
What else can I say?
09/11/2023 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.
Larger Than Life
Posted on April 29, 2015 by j.g.lewis
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She first held my hand
five delicate fingers, swallowed up
in my palm. Fingers grasping
at my fingers.
Tiny.
No indication of such a big life.
There was comfort
Reassurance.
A small hand, I thought I could
hold it forever.
Tighter
to keep it there.
Stop it from growing
The hand has grown, still delicate
there
in my palm.
Now that of a woman
like no other
a part of me.
Like
no other woman.
She is full with
room to grow
to emerge.
She is what I have, and
the one who is
always there.
As I have tried to be.
A strength more than physical
difficult
to comprehend.
A gentle patience, a
small hand,
wisdom larger than
life itself.
I want to hold her hand
a while longer
to reassure
I have done something right
in this world.
When there
I have no questions.
None of myself, as a human being
or otherwise.
I host
too many doubts
which have withered
my ability
to see.
In her I see what I am and
what I could be.
If nothing else,
the one good thing
I can be
and will always be
to her.
©2015 j.g. lewis
