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 2019
Kindred
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
TODAY IS
POEM IN YOUR POCKET DAY
Carry with you a favorite poem to share
with family, friends, co-workers,
cab drivers, yoga teachers, baristas,
politicians, cobblers, and panhandlers.
Total strangers will smile, children may
even clap, and you might get a hug or
the occasional laugh. Whatever you do,
however you dare, this is time to show
the world how poetry matters.
APRIL IS POETRY MONTH
what’s in your pocket?
Enchanting distractions
conjured up in adolescent fantasy
or tremendously tedious math classes,
albeit fascination.
Initial attraction. Opposite sex.
You begin to notice.
Long ago. Remember?
We run through images at night,
even a month ago. recalling wet dreams,
Ninth Grade goddess, slight overbite,
and a couch in the basement, after
a junior-high school dance.
Waltzing then,
holding another body
as close as you could.
Nights In White Satin
Stairway To Heaven
The longer the better. Fumbling
with opportunity, taking liberties
as much as chances.
After the dance. Each of us.
Feeling. Like it mattered.
Permission denied, then granted.
Breath of consent with closed eyes,
nervous smile.
Teenagers. Enthusiasm greater
than experience.
We didn’t know what romance was, or
the meaning of sensuality, or ecstasy.
Or lust.
But we knew how it felt.
As we grew older, did we forgot?
Except in our dreams.
© 2019 j.g. lewis
APRIL IS POETRY MONTH
let the soul wander
I thought of you.
Often I do. Nothing specific,
not always. No particular time
or place. No clear dimensions.
Sometimes. Wide awake.
Even with night on my eyelids.
When you are not there,
I can still think.
I am moved
by gravity or grace.
It could be a mood, perhaps
a song, the scent
of remembrance.
I know it as I know you.
Daydreaming or otherwise.
04/16/2019 j.g. lewis
APRIL IS POETRY MONTH
read into the reality
