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.
We want to know what
we don’t know, or hadn’t thought of,
or forgot.
What mattered then,
or what mattered when, shifts over time.
We notice.
Perception is what you don’t see.
Deception is what know.
You see it differently through your aloneness.
The truth behind a lie,
you question how and why.
It made sense.
Anticipation keeps us waiting
for only so long. Will it matter
if you felt it never did?
© 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.
Just before four
Or just after
Half moon on the midway
Floodlights dimmed
Excitement gone with the crowd
The Ferris wheel rests
For the night
A time
When a stranger
May more likely meet
A knife
Than a smile
When the power of the sun is
Nowhere to be seen
Nowhere known
Yet the heat is still present
Persistent
Reflected and refracted
From downtown concrete
The air humid
Dark
Suffocating
Blocks away
A high-rise set amongst the clouds
Above the quiet
Of long-gone crowds
Lovers unite
Dissolve against
One another
Sensual shivers
In spite of the heat
Sweat on the brow
Sweat on the sheets
Awake or
Awaken
What it was
It still is
Even the distance knows
Still in the city
Still is not calm
Humanity tucked away from it all
Asleep
Others are not
Tormented souls wander the night
Confounded by loneliness
Emptiness
Worthlessness
Restless youth
Careless and not knowing
Where they should be
Where they are
Silent as a shadow
And just as flat
They wait temporarily
Time
After Time
Just after four
Or just before
Someone smiles like a knife
Someone
Tonight will fall
Beyond the dreams that lovers hold
Beyond the dreams they once were sold
Out of time
Out of place
Out of synch with the human race
Lives now dimmed or cower
Out of sight
Out of morals
Out of light
Unsuspecting souls
Who know no fate
Will soon make certain
An unknown place
Beyond the silence
Beyond the sight
Someone else
Will fall tonight
When lovers dissolve
When lovers unite
©2015 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.