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.
Turn it off. Weary the mind. You’ve had your say
now allow time for those working, or trying, and
believing there may still be opportunity, perhaps
prosperity. If allowed. Can the dream still exist?
More and more it becomes less and less important.
I will not listen; or cannot, a more apt description,
to the incessant ignorance spilling from your lips.
My ears bleed, my heart aches, among this crush
of bigotry, inequality and blind trust misplaced.
I put on my headphones commanding ear-splitting
silence to shut out the numbing narcissistic diatribe
with its women-hating violence. You’ve said all that
you needed to get what you wanted, you bullied,
and prophesied, and threatened and taunted. Now
perpetuating insult with that firm hypocritical
stance, adding insult to illusion, capitalizing on
chance. It’s less about being chosen, and now
what you choose, because my motherhood issues
are a far cry from your motherfucking truths.
© 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.