cloud songs

December 9

   We don’t see changes
until they have changed.
Explanations, or excuses,
     slowly come with age.
You can’t go back,
it will not feel the same.
  There is no resolution.
  There is no blame.

©j.g. lewis

One response to “cloud songs”

Natacha

December 10, 2017 at 5:08 pm

Perfect timing.

Reply

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j.g. lewis

original content and images ©j.g. lewis

a decade of days…

2025 is an anthology of thoughts du jour, unsolicited advice, messages of peace, philosophy, poetry, and photographs from the past decade of Mythos & Marginalia. In unchronological order, the years not as important as the dates, each post a reminder (if only to myself) that I do indeed write every damn day.

April 26

an impression

Perspective,
perception, space
between each line.
The subject
bare, a body
in its most poetic form.
Two-minute sketch,
a pose,
little time to see behind
the image.
Like any other person,
a life, nobody truly knows.
Exposed. Angles and
curves, skin, illustration,
details, expression,
impression
of all that is there, and
what is accounted for.
Here. Now.
Depiction of a moment,
reality marked
by seconds.
A figure captured
on paper. Briefly.
Deliberate, though
inconclusive, pencil stroke
softening, straightening,
shading, sorting out
what is on display.
Temporarily.
Art is not
what is there,
rather what you see.
Time defines authenticity.
Another page, a different pose.
Two minutes; all you know.

© 2017 j.g. lewis

April is Poetry Month

Leave a comment: an impression
April 19

differently

We have faith.

We have doubts,
commensurate
with
unknown fears and
undetermined factors.

That which you feel
I see as well,
differently.

We pretend
we belong.

In many ways
we share the same grief.

We are afraid of
all the wrong things.
We doubt
our faith.

Everything is temporary,
even our fears.

© 2018 j.g. lewis

April is Poetry Month

Leave a comment: differently
April 18

Lives forged by experience, altered
by those who encounter
the same things at the same time.
Friendships mark our years, hold us
accountable to our humanity.
We discover most friends
mainly by accident. Circumstance
or circumspect, intimacy implied by
mere presence, accepted as we walk,
as we talk, as we see
the same things at the same time.
We come to trust,
offer what little we know, barter
our wisdom with that which may be
only an illusion of understanding.
An exchange in kind, shared
timidly at first. We are vulnerable,
to the same things, at the same time.
Kindred, courageous souls;
they too must confide, you try
to be worthy. With neither pride,
nor modesty, we place value on that
which lies before us.
Lives shift, locations change, yet
displaced by age, distance, or devotion,
a certain mercy keeps close
those whom exchange,
without further thought,
the same things at the same time.
We rediscover, even much later,
how friendship marks our time.

© 2019 j.g. lewis

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April 27

spring concerto

eyes chase sound
intonation
chamber orchestra
four or five violins

resonance

i settled only
on you
black gown
bare shoulders

I watched with my ears
only you
eyes intent on the score

modulation

my imagination

later

waking up
the sound of
only
your violin
morning traffic
scent of rain

and
coffee

© 2014 j.g. lewis

April is Poetry Month

Leave a comment: spring concerto
April 21

© 2023 j.g. lewis

April is Poetry Month

Leave a comment: untitled post 18710
April 15

I can’t find my way home

I light a candle to illuminate
thoughts this world holds. Some
I cannot understand,
others simply trying to land
but hover instead. And this song
keeps playing in my head.

I can’t find my way home.

I feel there will be no peace,
not now, not among this culture
of shame and blame.
Not when you question others,
but refuse to question yourself.
Still I light a candle.

I can’t find my way home.

Just beyond the candlelight, I
watch days slip into night, amidst
a maelstrom of discontent,
you never know what is meant.
Look over your shoulder. Look
further through your past.

I can’t find my way home.

Fistfuls of violence, mouthfuls
of reality escape. Thoughts which
should not be free, peace
should not be a luxury. I strike
a match to light up a candle,
to shine a light for hope.

I can’t find my way home.

© 2017 j.g. lewis

Leave a comment: I can’t find my way home