We live in a world of what ifs.
What if we did something else,
or what if we weren’t there (as
sometimes we shouldn’t be
when it comes down to the
wrong place at the right time).
What if it never happened?
What if we had responded
differently or if we had taken
the advice we were told?
Would we have been so bold?
05/30/2023 j.g.l.
Is what you do enough?
For who?
For you?
Self-doubt?
Self-love?
Self-centered?
Is it selfish to think mainly
of what I need to do for me,
myself, and I?
Why?
When will I find resolve to
my never-ending queries?
Will it be enough?
Do you still doubt?
Do you struggle with answers,
as much as the questions?
Can you decide?
Are you trying?
Is that enough?
05/23/2023 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.
We exist within a conundrum: a hollow promise,
less than a guarantee, with far too much fine print
and hyperbole disguising immodest claims by the
local chamber of commerce.
Selling features surpass the benefits
of living there or here, or wherever.
Often we question why we live
where we live.
It is greater than geography,
more than an address or identity.
Our company of cohorts and companions
changes over time.
We move, as do they.
How do we settle?
Location, location, uncertain destination,
what you see in the rearview mirror will
likely greet you further down the highway.
They say you can’t go back.
Yet, you usually do.
City to neighbourhood, dwellings or
simply shelter, we seek comfort. Or
contentment.
A place to sleep, to eat, or ignore
what goes on outside the window.
Across the street or 27 stories down below.
High-density urban sprawl, demographics,
economics, overpopulation, the mechanics
of increased consumption of once-precious
resources. We are all what we are made of.
Humanities: the quality or state of being.
Home is what, home is where, we make it.
Home is a place you accept
more than you will understand.
© 2021 j.g. lewis
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.
