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 2020
The radio no longer crackles
as it used to do
with
the lightening,
as
it happens.
Through the darkness
a voice calls out, Pagliaro singing to the broken and the lame.
Rain, rain,
rain showers.
The radio crackled in the night
sharp-edged static
then a stinging silence
before the thunder,
not but a few heartbeats.
The sky
opens up.
Thunder and lightening, touches the earth, as you feel shame.
Rain, rain,
rain showers.
The radio plays to the lonely
as it always has.
The moon
cowers behind vengeful clouds.
She, partially broken, is vulnerable
like you.
Still not there.
Unable to protect, as you thought she could, from all the pain.
Rain, rain,
rain showers.
The radio no longer crackles
across the airwaves.
Emotions, still fragile,
Shatter
in the rain.
No one is to blame.
Strengthen my faith.
Let me live again. No longer broken, no longer tame. Not again.
Rain, rain,
rain showers.
© 2015 j.g. lewis
They don’t make radios, or write songs, like they did in 1971. Michel Pagliaro still rocks
Posted on April 18, 2020 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment
We strive or struggle
in this tempestuous atmosphere,
mindful of words measured
or immediate,
and whispered as intended.
Velocity and circumstance differ.
Interpretation, introspection,
the memories remain
as we see
this poetry we breathe.
Rhythm and patterns suggest
scattered thoughts,
unparalleled emotions, and
a decency to remind
the heart to remember.
j.g.l.
04/01/3026
thoughts come and go
over the years
write them down
reflections
of who you are
or where you were
time
leads and follows
all you leave behind
are words
footprints and breath
that fogs the glass
keep breathing
j.g.l.
