How do we choose to travel?
What is reliable in the rain?
What is our ultimate destination,
for this time, this journey, or
this day?
We move at the speed of life.
Depending on traffic, others
may chose to follow your path,
but not your direction.
© 2021 j.g. lewis
A little cold, little wet,
a little tired and yet
I am here. Still,
full of wonder.
The morning chill leaves
little to the imagination
and much less
to hope for.
Expected, perhaps, as it
always is, this time, this
season is only what
we ask of it.
11/21/2024 j.g.l.
The answers are far less certain
than even last week, to all those
perennial questions or solutions
you might seek.
What do you believe, or
what do you believe in?
Come Monday, you have fewer
questions than you had last week.
For a while there are less doubts
in what you believe.
Whom do you believe in,
and who believes in you?
11/18/2024 j.g.l.
Consider each moment
leading up to now.
Cause and effect
affects where you are,
whom you have been, and all
you are now.
Any possibility sustains every reality.
To doubt is to question;
to ask is to reply.
11/22/2024 j.g.l.
As of late, for reasons as varied as they are non-existent, I have not been writing in the manner of which I have come to expect of myself. I am neither as prolific nor as detailed as, I feel, I usually am.
My poetry, while still insightful, does not command the length or breadth I feel I am capable of. Revisions to a manuscript I have toiled away on for some time have become painful (perhaps a sign that the work is closer to completion than I care to acknowledge), and my mind wanders to another project that requires the same diligence.
My daily writing is less than it once was (I feel guilty about that), and even the scant sentences I jot down in my journal seem to only document my time here on earth. Nothing extravagant, nothing more than a slight glimpse of where I am. Nothing that memorable, sadly.
I’ve been feeling for months that I am ready to embark on another kind of writing but have yet to determine exactly what that might be. I am full or ideas, characters, dialogue and circumstance, but it doesn’t quite feel like it has the backbone it needs to pull me in a certain direction. I even, a few weeks back, bought a fresh new notebook to keep these thoughts separate from all the others. The notes I have included in this book are random, undeveloped, at times personal, and (as of yet) make little sense. I reread these notes, almost daily, and I am inspired enough to clarify or expand on certain streams of thought, but it needs a more definite direction.
Perhaps I do as well?
11/17/2024 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.
Awoken by thoughts
or a voice shouting on the street below
or
nothing
3 a.m. or later
window open comfortably cool
this June rain makes more of an impression
in isolation
silence challenges
both history and the future
our daily lives and routines
only a reminder
humans need humans
Craving physical contact
we all need friendship security
compassion and hope
We need more meaning on
how we really spend our lives
The indisputable truth:
All of us have sinned
Now we realize everyone needs
Community
crisis or chaos
we are denied
guilt will find a place to rest
how do you sleep at night?
© 2020 j.g. lewis
Transitional phase, retrograde emotions
takeover, if even you admit the passage of time.
At the cusp of solstice, as nightfall sets
you recognize dreams, goals and observations
far away as that shooting star.
There should be more, you see, though
there rarely is. Uncanny as it seems.
Make do with what you have.
Indecisive introspection, lift the veil, a resurrection
commonplace among uncommon minds seeking,
believing, inadvertent acknowledgement of
personal place and power. Casually stated,
surely underrated, this seasonal shift
gives way to a sky full of wonder. Eyes open.
It will not be dark for long.
Bottom of the night, seldom do we realize
what has occurred in those mysterious fragmented
moments leading to the break of dawn.
An impervious passive state, all
five senses diminish enough to permit expansive
thoughts of nothingness. Introspective perception
offers expediency to immediate needs.
If little else but hope, gladly seize the moment.
Daylight heals those inclined to darkness, for a time.
Self-care required, self-love permitted,
it may take awhile to find your axis. Look
across the universe when given this fleeting chance.
Personal place or power, claim all
you can breathe in. It settles where it belongs.
Honour the internal light; solstice provides a glance.
© 2023 j.g. lewis
Photography captures life,
flaws and all, a fraction of
a second of pure honesty.
No other art form has the
same efficiency.
© 2015 j.g. lewis
It is not the first time I have seen him ( or others like him) pressed into a cold corner in the bank’s vestibule, seeking some sort of shelter from the rain.
It’s early, and I have just left the eternal comfort of my cozy bed and am walking the 1,200 or so steps to a familiar coffee shop with a sturdy seat and hot, overpriced coffee. It is a luxury I can afford: I’ve got a handful of change or fresh bills in my wallet that allow me a bit of time with myself, my thoughts, and my journal.
Despite my personal issues, concerns, and ever-evolving difficulties, I’ve got it pretty good. I have a place to call home, a purpose, and what I would call a meaningful life.
Others are not as fortunate. I am keenly aware of the imbalance.
This morning’s display of a fellow human being splayed out on a convenient concrete floor is more than a subtle reminder that there are people suffering daily in this city and country.
It is a difficult world.
In my charitable ways, I make monthly donations to a local shelter. I occasionally, have spare pocket change for some of the many panhandlers who dot my landscape. It is not enough, obviously, but I feel I do what I can.
I could do more.
We all could do more (or most of us).
The problems here are not unique to Toronto.
We are in the midst of a mayoralty by-election in this city, the fourth largest in North America. There is a hole in the budget large enough to slip a lesser-sized city into. There are a lot of candidates listing a lot of solutions to what they see as top-end concerns. In neatly-packaged sound bites, they speak in general terms of what they would do to make this a better place to live, but so many politicians are short on specifics.
They talk about “affordable housing” and a need to address the over-priced, undernourished economy. The verbiage they offer is only noise.
When politicians speak of “affordable housing” they are talking about $250,000 condominiums in a city where the market average is $726,664.
They are talking above the heads, and budgets, of those who may never be able to afford their own home and can’t afford the historically high rents.
Clearly and consistently the politicians fail to address social housing, now more than a necessity as city shelter spaces are above capacity. Those turned away are forced to camp out in parks or find a corner by some bank machine to try and get a little shut eye.
There are few and fewer options in this city and even less of a response or the political will. Toronto is not facing a housing crisis as much as we are smack dab in the middle of a humanitarian crisis.
We simply are not, or cannot, take care of each other
Or we don’t even try.
©2023 j.g. lewis
If you tell me your name
you tell me a history,
abbreviated yes, but one
of decisions, dates and
moments of significance
I know nothing about.
I too leave a shadow.
My fears may be different
or diluted; this life treats us in ways
nobody else would imagine,
or understand.
Each of us
will have questions.
We will always have questions.
It is human to want to know and learn,
and listen.
If you tell me your name
I will tell you mine.
Then we will be equal
and available to continue
the conversation.
©2020 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.
