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 . . .

acts of clarity

Slow down: even with the ideas that come to quicky. Take the time to acknowledge the feelings that arrive, as they arrive.

 

Write it down. How else will you remember what you were thinking?

 

Print neatly. You hardly understand the thoughts at the time, why make it more difficult to comprehend weeks or years from now?

 

Follow your own logic; only you need to truly make sense of what is happening, or all that has happened.

 

Pay attention to the lessons of the past. Be mindful that not all are worth repeating.

 

Clarity. Make corrections as you go. Flaws become more difficult to correct the longer you live with them.

 

11/14/2024                                                                                                                  j.g.l.

November 11

cloud songs

             We exist, at times silently,

               comfortable in our invisibility.

 

                 Unnoticeably so.

 

             Unexplained. 

 

           We so know, or learn, when

                      it is time to speak up.

 

11/08/2024                                                                                                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.

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April is Poetry Month

Posted on April 23, 2015 by j.g.lewis // 1 Comment

puddles

So she said
              from the shadows
we are all made of rain
       fortified by silence
strengthened
              from pain

    Without it
       we are    dust
swiftly erased
       by a breeze
          With luck
     we become puddles
or give rise
          to the trees

How can
          you know?
               I queried  
                   I must

               Without rain
        we have very little
                       to trust

       I couldn’t quite fathom
   her moral or muse
 but she
       created reality
           I would not refute

 

 This month is all about poetry.
Something new every day.

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