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.
Category: Uncategorised
by Carolyn Riker
I believe
if this were a different lifetime,
we’d be more than passing
as midnight fireflies.
I see this in the corner of
your eyes; such smiles rub
my wild and yet your tease
eliminates my needs when
you feel uncomfortable
you reinstate your prestige.
We dance over the obvious.
Too shy to say why.
It’s touched a note deep inside
of how often I’m seen
as if invisible.
You know it hurts
how much unsaid
is spoken in all the ways
you try to hide
but still, it shows,
I’m just another token.
You aren’t the first
but you are the last
because I finally know
my worth is what needs
to be spoken.
©2018 Carolyn Riker
Photography by Abena Buahene
Carolyn (Riker) Avalani is a licensed counselor, teacher, writer and poet. A frequent contributor to numerous online journals and anthologies, her first book of poetry and prose Blue Clouds was published December 2016.
Between sips of coffee, navigating life with copious writing and daydreaming, Carolyn offers creative writing workshops, coaching and private counseling. To find out more please visit www.carolynriker.com
by Jennifer Hillman
Wisdom through words.
Some advice I would give to anyone…of any age.
Observe, listen, and share.
I learned for observing many wise elderly and the young innocence.
With this, I collected and smiled with these steps to living.
Quiet the Mind. . .
be with the Silence
and simply listen to your heart…
follow the whispers of your truths
be bold and embrace the magic
while expanding your brilliance
in every moment,
with every breath.
Live large through creativity
share tender moments of laughter
express yourself
while you forgive often…
yourself and others.
Love Always.
Be true to you by being the uniqueness of all you be.
Trust. Love. Be. Love’s Truths.
©2018 Jennifer Hillman
Jennifer Hillman is an intuitive life coach, published writer and poet, host of Abstract Illusions Radio podcasts. Her site is JenniferHillman.com and she is available for coaching sessions. Her books are available on her site and Amazon.com.
Posted on March 7, 2018 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment
It was never for the night, but only
for the summer. My seventeenth
summer. Never would I say it shouldn’t
have happened, because it did.
You with a past
I would certainly become a part of,
and I collecting stories. An identity.
At seventeen. You took a part of that;
of all, or whatever, went forward.
What I have become.
Bones are formed through experience,
shaping us emotionally, physically, and
psychologically. Down to the soul.
You were there. There I was,
not knowing what to expect, and you
expecting nothing but honesty.
I didn’t question your motives, nor did I
question mine. Age was not important,
you said, nor was intent.
There was a difference.
Seventeen years. but only one summer.
July heat, the scent of patchouli,
sandalwood and #5. Intoxicating.
I tasted the moon on your breath,
and witnessed the clouds in your eyes.
A sullen anger, a hurt from before, and
your impatient need to get over
the emotions. You talked about it.
I could only listen, or try, to understand.
At seventeen I could not know.
Yet. I would learn. Eventually.
In times of give and of take, we took
consciously. Each of us. Never a moment
of mixing the beginning up with the end.
We knew. I wouldn’t ask;
at seventeen you don’t. Of course,
I remember fireflies, the music, touch,
and the sense and secrets we rarely
acknowledged. Not enough time. Only
one summer. It was close, something
I had never had before, but it was not
friendship. A friend you would see again.
Not only for a summer.
©2018 j.g. lewis
“It isn’t all it seems
at seventeen”
-Janis Ian
