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 2021
Never is
it nothing.
Emptiness
takes on a shape.
Malignant depth
bereft of benevolence,
sensuously
insensitive,
it fills the space
it is allowed.
A void.
A voice,
as easily
as it is given,
it can be
taken away.
Within its ambiguity
there may be hope.
04/08/2021 j.g.l.
Posted on April 7, 2021 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment
Gather, you beggars. Assemble
like pigeons, seeking morsels of kindness
on these filthy city streets. We notice but do not acknowledge.
Or apologize.
I cannot deal with all I see.
Any spare change? No answer. No chance.
I saunter by in my warm parka, well-rested, belly full
of breakfast. I know no hunger, though not immune
to the pang. Sunglasses shield my eyes.
I have witnessed too much.
There, but by the grace of God, go I.
They remain. Unrecognizable
even to those who have loved them. A person’s sister, somebody’s
brother, somebody’s child. A somebody;
another vacant bed or private hell
another excuse or story to tell.
We do not want to hear.
Nor dare to breathe. Ask no questions.
I am only what I ask myself to be. If
charity begins at home, what then of the homeless? Nothing.
I know where I will sleep tonight.
Ashamed. I do little but look away.
Filthy pigeons stare back.
Then scatter.
2021 j.g. lewis
Enraged.
Voices raised in anger, solidarity,
and in protest of that no person should have to face:
misogyny; violence; anti-Asian hate.
Vital lives, already shaped by stereotype and stigma,
everyday sins of a multidimensional world
in a country formed by immigration
and promise.
Ethnicity. Here, in a multi-cultural city.
Diversity and inclusion once a dream,
now a tagline or social media hashtag
nobody seems to pays attention to;
except the haters.
Now speaking out, speaking up over damage
already done; the words and the guns.
‘Fuck your bad day’
Time after time, crime after crime, hate
is a virus we are unable to isolate ourselves from.
Information and understanding is not enough
to inoculate fellow human beings.
They protest. More should.
We are not in this together; some have to stand apart.
We all have our reasons.
What’s your excuse?
What is your explanation?
© 2021 j.g. lewis
