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 . . .

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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Posted on April 12, 2016 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment

_MG_6883 - Version 2

What Do You See?

Do you see the difference
between the morning and
the night?

Can you notice the divergence
at a certain stage
of life?

Will you see all that lies
before you, as easily as
your past?

Do you watch for obvious
triggers, knowing behaviors
won’t always last?

Can others see your foibles
as easily as you do
yourself?

Will you shut your eyes
with silence for the sake of
your own health?

 

@2016 j.g. lewis

April is Poetry Month
something new every day
spread the words

Mondays are just young Fridays
Posted on April 11, 2016 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment

 

Enlight1

what makes you be?

what makes you believe?
what makes you bold?
what
          makes 

                      you belong?
what makes you beneath them?
what makes you bored?
what makes you bare your soul?
what makes you beautiful?
what makes you be the

                             best

                      you can 

                             be?
what makes you be something

                      you are not?
what makes you

                     you?

@ 2014 j.g. lewis

April is Poetry Month
something new every day
spread the words

 

Fractured Silence
Posted on April 10, 2016 by j.g.lewisLeave a comment

 

_MG_5471 - Version 2

Fractured Silence

Stars have neither the nerve nor
the courtesy of shedding any light.
We walk on streets with names,
but none with faces.
The architecture of emptiness,
I struggle with the night. We exist,
but how, in concrete spaces.
Fractured silence, wilted shadows
precede another day. Our time
pressed beneath glass. Only
a collection, hardly a recollection.
Whether we do
or whether we will,
is this what was meant to be,
is that how I am meant to feel?
Through bitter truth I learn
love lies, bleeding still, unnoticed
then by weary eyes.
Come the morning,
what do you see? Is it
a likely ever after, or a promise
you still can’t believe,

© 2015 j.g. lewis

 

April is Poetry Month
something new every day
Spread the words