Mondays are just young Fridays
What happens when you step away
from the everyday, for a while
(or longer)?
A new locale, an unfamiliar bed, an
alternative view overhead
there is always another way instead;
at least there will be this week.
Even a wristwatch looks different today
for deadlines have no purpose or place
this week.
A well-deserved break, to say the least.
11/04/2024 j.g.l.
cloud songs
What of today, tomorrow
or next week?
What about the weary,
the impoverished, and the meek?
What becomes the answer or
the validation that you seek?
11/01/2024 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.
Voices
Posted on March 7, 2020 by j.g.lewis
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Denied expression,
she to only watch and
feel. Nothing
spoken. Nothing
gained. Another voice
stifled, one less
colour to bleed into
the blackness
of humanity.
Vacancy.
Deny her voice;
take away her life.
Let her speak
and this
fractured planet
becomes enlightened.
Dare not
take away the light
of our daughters,
mothers,
or lovers.
We learn,
we are aroused,
we are formed by even
the voices
of strangers.
© 2018 j.g. lewis
