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 2023
Refraction. Reflection.
Gradient tones of expression,
landscapes or history,
our light rarely follows a straight line.
Curves. Diagonally,
adjustment required in space or
sign, it seeps through cracks
moves forcefully beyond sublime.
Unusually unaware,
we cannot control the capacity, or
silence, of corresponding darkness.
An unlikely presence of another mind.
Intimacy initially.
To those who dare expose themselves,
our light will not be altered
but eternally fortified.
Transcendent existence,
born unto an incidental state, we
cannot separate stigma from strata.
Dust on the wind, particles of matter.
Fragmentation, alienation,
morals to immortality, holding tight
all we believe is crucial.
Our life rarely follows a straight line.
©2018 j.g. lewis
Posted on April 14, 2023 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment
But a glimpse
over your shoulder, behind
the shadow, above the rim
of smudged eyeglasses, not
taking time for clear sight
of the future.
Right there.
Will you forgive yourself for
not acknowledging another
human being just trying to
make it through the day?
We all struggle.
04/14/2023 j.g.l.
Posted on April 13, 2023 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment
Another day of
mainly the same, unfulfilled
promises, unrealized shame.
On and on
an unpredictable game.
Unwritten rules,
ill-gotten gains.
04/13/2023 j.g.l.
