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: August 2023
How can you know
what another person
is thinking
when your own thoughts
are as confusing
as the day?
How can you know
what another human
is feeling
when
those thoughts
get in the way?
08/11/2023 j.g.l.
Posted on August 10, 2023 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment
I keep all my pencils, I have for years. I keep not only the long, skinny colourful delights, I save what remains; the nubs and mere shadows of the pencils that have served me well.
A pencil’s life is determined by usage, the firmness (or softness) of its graphite core, and measured by the number of words written on the page. Pressure is always a factor.
I prefer the efficiency of a pencil with an eraser attached. The pencil shows you how you are progressing, its eraser always a sign of how many (or how few) mistakes you have made.
When a pencil gets to a certain length and are no longer comfortable to use, I begin afresh with a new sharp tool.
I used to toss the dead pencils into a box, and then a larger box when it was required. At some point I realized my little friends deserved more than to simply be stowed away in a dark closet.
I now display pencils suspended in past tense in a series of glass jars. An artful display, perhaps, but more a reminder of what the pencils have done.
Don’t we all have a collection of things that matter?
I know many people collect pencils. They keep them whole and proudly marvel at the colour and design, but what’s the point of that?
Pencils were created to create and communicate. If they are safely kept in a drawer they are nothing more than potential.
I believe a pencil is more than that.
for a shadow
dead pencils
still leave a mark
salvaged from the litter bin
gave most of their everything
from within
now surrounded
by cigarette butts
salad oil tuna tins phone
messages hydro bills coffee
grinds orange peel
rotting spinach or kale
broken
shoelaces leftover pain
a sad refrain
still saving a few scant lines
of sentiment
for a man
and a night
and a poem
for a shadow
© 2015 j.g. lewis
Posted on August 8, 2023 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment
daily bromides
empty assertions
our thoughts
our curse
equality
injustice
we sleep
we wake
we give in
overwhelmed
what we tell ourselves
it makes no sense
the mind
will not slow
08/08/2023 j.g.l.
