How do we choose to travel?
What is reliable in the rain?
What is our ultimate destination,
for this time, this journey, or
this day?
We move at the speed of life.
Depending on traffic, others
may chose to follow your path,
but not your direction.
© 2021 j.g. lewis
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.
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.
Instant communication, instant connection
to all the things you don’t need to know, while
delaying access to what you want to know better.
Algorithms substitute advertising for real content,
tell the part of the story a corporation can profit from.
An era where human beings have faster and greater
access to knowledge and information, we are mostly
pacified by empty words, pretty pictures, and
trumped up tales of misfortune, instead of
searching for the truth.
Depth is now disposable.
Conveniently forgotten.
Now, content with content, what we learn lingers
only as long as our interest is answered. Then
we are hijacked on this information highway by
bright signs indicating a turn in our attention.
Memory amiss. Gone in an instant.
What do we really know?
© 2022 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.