Appetite

May 20

Beauty is a sandwich.
Or is it the trees
surrounding the picnic bench?
It is the lover
you are dining with,
or could it be
the solitude of eating
by yourself?
Beauty is delicious.

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original content and images ©j.g. lewis

a decade of days…

2025 is an anthology of thoughts du jour, unsolicited advice, messages of peace, philosophy, poetry, and photographs from the past decade of Mythos & Marginalia. In unchronological order, the years not as important as the dates, each post a reminder (if only to myself) that I do indeed write every damn day.

April 19

differently

We have faith.

We have doubts,
commensurate
with
unknown fears and
undetermined factors.

That which you feel
I see as well,
differently.

We pretend
we belong.

In many ways
we share the same grief.

We are afraid of
all the wrong things.
We doubt
our faith.

Everything is temporary,
even our fears.

© 2018 j.g. lewis

April is Poetry Month

Leave a comment: differently
April 18

Lives forged by experience, altered
by those who encounter
the same things at the same time.
Friendships mark our years, hold us
accountable to our humanity.
We discover most friends
mainly by accident. Circumstance
or circumspect, intimacy implied by
mere presence, accepted as we walk,
as we talk, as we see
the same things at the same time.
We come to trust,
offer what little we know, barter
our wisdom with that which may be
only an illusion of understanding.
An exchange in kind, shared
timidly at first. We are vulnerable,
to the same things, at the same time.
Kindred, courageous souls;
they too must confide, you try
to be worthy. With neither pride,
nor modesty, we place value on that
which lies before us.
Lives shift, locations change, yet
displaced by age, distance, or devotion,
a certain mercy keeps close
those whom exchange,
without further thought,
the same things at the same time.
We rediscover, even much later,
how friendship marks our time.

© 2019 j.g. lewis

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April 16

knowing

I thought of you.
Often I do. Nothing specific,
not always. No particular time
or place. No clear dimensions.
Sometimes. Wide awake.
Even with night on my eyelids.
When you are not there,
I can still think.
I am moved
by gravity or grace.
It could be a mood, perhaps
a song, the scent
of remembrance.
I know it as I know you.
Daydreaming or otherwise.

© 2019 j.g. lewis

April is Poetry Month

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April 15

I can’t find my way home

I light a candle to illuminate
thoughts this world holds. Some
I cannot understand,
others simply trying to land
but hover instead. And this song
keeps playing in my head.

I can’t find my way home.

I feel there will be no peace,
not now, not among this culture
of shame and blame.
Not when you question others,
but refuse to question yourself.
Still I light a candle.

I can’t find my way home.

Just beyond the candlelight, I
watch days slip into night, amidst
a maelstrom of discontent,
you never know what is meant.
Look over your shoulder. Look
further through your past.

I can’t find my way home.

Fistfuls of violence, mouthfuls
of reality escape. Thoughts which
should not be free, peace
should not be a luxury. I strike
a match to light up a candle,
to shine a light for hope.

I can’t find my way home.

© 2017 j.g. lewis

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April 12

it is now

trust spoken
on bated breath

the colours are about us

there is
no in-between

lives you never lived
words
often whispered

we reflect on the art
that gives us something to see

casualties
on the pavement
lump in our throat

it was everything
it is now
it is not

this bloodsport
we call survival
in a city we call home

© 2019 j.g. lewis

April is Poetry Month

Leave a comment: it is now
April 9

try to comprehend

countenance
my vision is clear

most of the time

i can see what is going on

past
present tense
and emotional graffiti
blurring my landscape

surpassing commonsense or

my peripheral understanding

of what is beyond
what is expected to be explored.

i look

daily searching for a message or
answer to existential confusion

yours and mine

it is a mixed up world
and we create a part of it

I can see that

as plain as they say
any damn day

what I can’t see
I will try to comprehend

© 2021 j.g. lewis

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