Archives-Journalshttps://jwheel.org/tags/archives-journals/Homepage of Justin Wheeler, an Open Source contributor and Free Software advocate from Georgia, USA.Hugo -- gohugo.ioen-usJustin WheelerSun, 16 Oct 2016 00:00:00 +0000Light/Darkhttps://jwheel.org/blog/2016/10/light-dark/Sun, 16 Oct 2016 00:00:00 +0000https://jwheel.org/blog/2016/10/light-dark/This post is published as part of a personal archival project of my poetry and other creative works. The actual publish date of this post is Friday, April 19th, 2024, but the publish date of the post reflects the original date of authorship. This archival project aims to digitize a selection of written works that exist only in my private records. Enjoy.

Which is a lie: darkness or lightness?

Light illuminates all details,
Corners, etches, ink, faces,
The true nature of things is found.

Dark marks the details,
Obfuscates what you thought as truth,
An alternate reality presents itself.

Darkness is a master of tricks,
Or is it the light that plays with the head?
Whose word are you to take?

Where light exposes kindness, gratitude, warmth,
Dark brings hostility, hate, cold,
Both complement and counteract another.

Which is a lie: darkness or lightness?

The answer lies within,
Neither one is entirely true itself.
The secret lies within dawn and dusk.

Photo by elizabeth lies on Unsplash. Modified by Justin Wheeler. CC BY-SA 4.0.

]]>Willful Windshttps://jwheel.org/blog/2016/10/willful-winds/Sun, 09 Oct 2016 00:00:00 +0000https://jwheel.org/blog/2016/10/willful-winds/This post is published as part of a personal archival project of my poetry and other creative works. The actual publish date of this post is Friday, April 19th, 2024, but the publish date of the post reflects the original date of authorship. This archival project aims to digitize a selection of written works that exist only in my private records. Enjoy.

Original annotation: This was in the random parking lot not too far from the Colony Manor apartment. I wrote this in the car.

It should have started with a bang,
But instead of sound,
Only light.

At a window facing out,
I stand.
Willed by a force absent my control.

Keychains jangling,
Steps toward the car,
Apartment lights in rearview.

The wind speaks stories:
of adventure, love, destiny.
My role is but an observer.

Thousand-year winds,
Thousand-mile winds,
Transoceanic drifts.

If you listen and if you feel,
See past, present, and future,
Sift through the fibers of your clothes.

The wind retreats to the clouds,
The clouds alight to sparks.
Rain washes the stories away.

Listen to your own words,
Vivid with imagination and dreams.
Impart your own being to the stream,
And you will never die.

Photo by Jake Weirick on Unsplash. Modified by Justin Wheeler. CC BY-SA 4.0.

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