Mythos & Marginalia

life notes; flaws and all

j.g. lewis

original content and images ©j.g. lewis

a daily breath...

A thought du jour, my daily breath includes collected and conceived observations, questions of life, fortune cookie philosophies, reminders, messages of peace and simplicity, unsolicited advice, inspirations, quotes and words that got me thinking. They may get you thinking too . . .

cloud songs

    Kismet, naturally or unexpectedly,
holds sway on this or any other day.
       If we choose to notice.
       If we permit ourselves to linger
a moment or three in a transitive state 
between elements of darkness and bright, 
           morning quells emotions and
   disruptive thoughts we once embraced.

03/26/2024                                                                                     j.g.l.

Mondays are just young Fridays

Dented, bruised, scuffed up and circumstantial, the imperfections are obvious.
   It goes past superficial.
   Seeking more than a cover-up, healing is necessary.
   Hope is less than present but needed, so I try to do what I need to do. Each attempt to repair the damage that is done — the day-in-day out flaws that have become ingrained in my psyche — is another step.
   It takes effort. It takes encouragement, and it takes understanding even if I can’t completely comprehend the history that led up to the marks on the façade.
   I need to do the work.
   At times trying is the best I can do when I know I want to do better.

03/25/2024                                                                                                  j.g.l.

the weather still

‘When’ is a question greater than ‘why’.
   Important it is to know ‘when’ something will happen, rather than ‘what’ or ‘where’, because ‘when’ always involves a wait (that’s ‘when’ the ‘why’ kicks in).
   Our patience is tested.
   ‘When will we get there’ or ‘when is it time’? Both questions of our youth, at least, questions of mine.
   Spring has arrived, but ‘when’ will it come? The weather still indicates winter is hardly done.
   How can we wait, or ‘why’ is it we must? You might only find the answers ‘when’ you are ready to trust.

© 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.

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Decidedly Uncertain

Posted on September 28, 2016 by j.g.lewis Leave a comment

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           Should I stumble, as I am most certainly to do, pay no attention
        to the rip on my trousers, or swollen bruise on my knee. I have many
   more scars,     and they have become a better part of who I am.     As if
       character marks on the surface of the antique table, or the
 cumulative incidental nicks and scratches on a ’61 Telecaster
                                    lessen the intended beauty and purpose.
       If I fall, and you discover me in the gutter, I will not need assistance
 returning to my feet, but would appreciate
        a hankie to dust off my skin, and perhaps a fresh bandage
        to mask the blood spilling from within.
              When, at a street corner, I seem stalled or uncertain, please
              pass me by. There is no need for directions, as
   I am probably just deciding if it is choice or a chance. We come
   across many paths, and they all move forward. I have an idea
 where I am going, and might later become sidetracked,
     or choose a cross street. You would be best thinking
     I will someday find my destination, than feeling you had led me astray.
 It’s not that I am above asking if uncertain, but
                           I would find it more purposeful
 to step ahead unknowingly, than to have you feel a burden
 or responsibility.
                     Should we cross paths again, and you find me in repose, or
           a terminal state of confusion, you would be better off continuing
 along the cracked sidewalk. It is not that I wouldn’t enjoy the company,
 it’s just that I cannot answer your why. Share a smile, however.
                                                 I do collect moments, as souvenirs,
                                  and what better way to remember anybody
                                                than to know you shed a little light.
                        Later, when you catch sight of me in a park; on the bench;
                 under a tree, near that fountain, with my camera, or a journal,
        please leave me to my silence. Know that poetry
 is having its way with me, and I have already shared
 the crusts of my sandwich with the pigeons.               Generosity comes
                 in many forms, and I am grateful for each of life’s experiences.
      As you take in this fresh autumn chill, do not be concerned
      for my welfare. I will find the warmth, as I always do.
 Yet, should you feel cold, or uncomfortable, do not hesitate taking
 my sweater to cover your shoulders.                             The garment,
 like me, may be tattered and frayed, but in it you will find comfort.
              Return it to me when it is no longer useful.     I have others.
      If I were to unexpectedly bump into you at the market,
            and we are as surprised then as we had been when,
                           remember how we once shared something,
                                 and we are both better off because of it.
                                                     We were not strangers, not then, not now.
© 2016 j.g. lewis

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