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: January 2018
I wake each day, full of ache or full of wonder. Sometimes it is the same.
Some days feel like others, but really they are not.
Each day contains approximately the same number of hours, yet it’s the science of the light, or the politics of the pavement, that will deceive even the most earnest disciple.
Daily essentials; truth or trust, and the occasional coffee, are the only elements that will truly advance humanity.
Don’t leave your dreams on the pillow, don’t let your faith flounder, and don’t bother repeating the basic mistakes you did Tuesday (or that night in December). If you do it again it will still be the same.
It’s a new day, another way to discover physics, poetry, or the anatomy of circumstance.
Own your resilience, honour your silence, and admit your deficiencies.
Refill your coffee when you run out of reason.
01/25/2018 j.g.l.
tonight no dreams
last night the same
then clouds flat
pressed against the
sky allowing nothing
to pass through
except rain
tonight no rain
no dreams no clouds
even stars are silent
there is rain
somewhere surely
perhaps dreams as well
or promises
no light not tonight
the moon in its
darkness only gestures
no promises no dreams
only intentions only
a new moon can offer
new beginnings
@2014 j.g. lewis
Posted on January 23, 2018 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment
When the fog lifts
will it show what it hides
inside
our comfortable homes
and uncomfortable lives
When the morning lights
will we see what is
within
our tangible disappointments
and inequitable sins
When the night moves
will you still find me there
will you
offer your wisdom
or a cold vacant stare
01/23/2018 j.g.l.
