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.
Month: April 2015
no longer lost
as for a moment, my denial
my arrogance, my ego, slip away
an unblemished reality
no longer blinded by the above
(the ego or arrogance)
I struggle with a sudden clarity
no longer,
no longer frightened of losing
what I have (ego, arrogance)
but of allowing my self
to lose what I have become
as but a moment, my clarity
requires no ego
my arrogance, the unblemished reality
foreseen and foregone
my clarity, if sudden
found
no longer in my self
(no ego, nor arrogance)
but in what I become
what I will become
no longer
no longer frightening
no longer at a loss
as for any moment
(of unblemished reality)
no ego or arrogance
will mask what I have become
no longer losing
no longer lost
no longer denied
©2015 j.g. lewis
This month is all about poetry.
Something new every day.
Posted on April 27, 2015 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment
rise up
is it wrong
to want to take flight
to soar as a swallow
or gull
leaving our dark shadow
below
to disconnect
from where you were
or where you have been
gathering
the updraft in your
being
not to look
downward or behind
eyes forward rise up
the shadow
grows ever smaller
distant
we may not
have known our wings
or realized how to use
our strength
yet the wind provides a
reason
©2014 j.g. lewis
This month is all about poetry.
Something new every day.
Posted on April 26, 2015 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment
At The Time
She, she might not even notice
the beauty she hosts. She
is too busy,
caring, shouldering
responsibilities
others
are less bothered with.
She says she is lost
I am lost too.
It may not be
the same kind
of lost
or we may
show it or feel it
differently
after all, she is a She and I am a He.
She may not even know, in fact
might not care,
that I
know, her beauty.
I’ve not said it, not in the way
she needs to hear,
the way she needs to be seen.
I said I am empty. It’s not the kind
of empty,
the one devoid
of anything substantial,
but it is an empty
that means there is space
to fill.
I didn’t say it.
I didn’t say it
because I am a He and she is a She
and
we might have tried, but I didn’t enough
and God, she was brave and I
was unknowing and honest,
and frightened.
Yes, I was scared (but I didn’t say that)
and rather than say
I just let it go away.
Because she was that She, and I
didn’t wish to be
just another He.
I knew
she deserved more
than ever I could offer,
at least then, and I didn’t say enough.
At the time.
We all are
fighting time.
She questions her age, and I doubt mine too
and
she doesn’t know her beauty
but I certainly do,
So, seven days before I leave
we spent an evening
reading poetry
talking
taking the time.
Still I didn’t say it, because
she was She,
and I
was just me.
©2015 j.g. lewis
