Before I go home,
knowing my complex definition
has been altered by erstwhile
thieves and anxious lovers
(absolutely one in the same),
let me speak.
Let me speak.
No,
at 3 o’clock in the morning,
let me whisper
bygone intentions
I once believed, or was fooled
into believing.
I am a fool;
not an imbecile: a difference
not greater than thieves
or lovers.
It’s a theory that will
keep me awake
well into the night.
© 2018 j.g. lewis
We are what we carry.
Impulse, obligation, and
instinct pull us through
the days, across borders
and unfamiliar footpaths.
Step wisely and know
you have what you need.
Pack lightly; too much
baggage will deter the
enjoyment and hold you
back. Wanderlust should
not be contained.
© 2017 j.g. lewis
© 2016 j.g. lewis
Will this now and then
turn into a “remember when?”
Those times etched forever
into your soul, reference points
in your life in which days and
events will be compared against.
How will you remember if
memory is left to chance,
or how will you recall
that high school dance, what
you wore, how she smelled,
and all those things
you couldn’t tell anyone else
but yourself.
A first apartment, summer’s
drive to the lake, friends formed
by give and take, trust was built,
bonds were formed; the death
of a parent, or first child born.
Stuff that matters, do you
write it down? You knew
you should then and now.
© 2020 j.g. lewis
Even in silence
quiet speaks volumes.
In absence of music
melody remains.
With uncertainty
there can be harmony.
When questions stop
answers start.
Even without light,
there is
still art.
© 2019 j.g. lewis