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

        Our paths shift, circumstance and
              attitude shaping our trajectory.
   The company we keep alters both
       our outlook and destination.
           We are where we are
        mainly because of who we are 
                          and whom we are with.

 

04/16/2024                                                                              j.g.l.

Mondays are just young Fridays

A wish for words more delicate and 
refined will only lead to
an unnecessary edit, constrained curiosity,
and a smudge of indifference.
Emotions scoured from the page,
its patina reflective now of a chaotic mind, 
you are no longer (or never have been) 
satisfied with what is there.
Speaking freely, nowhere near the truth, 
a humane reaction may not be soothed.
Not always. No matter what.
No longer plain and simple. Perhaps
it never was?
You question the questions.
The flaws in your self can only add up
to a greater expression of your being.

04/15/2024                                                                                       j.g.l.

 

April is Poetry Month
flaws and all

 

damn truth

We do not touch the money, now
only digits on a screen. Ingredients
in our foods unknown, or what
scientists contribute to the scheme.
Price at the pump keeps going up,
still our cars can’t seem
to get enough.
Politicians are not worth knowing, or
deeds in which they partake, sin or
scandal widely-known, we
elect them anyway.
Damn truth be told,
between utter lies; they won’t salute
the dead, so many innocents die.
We won’t wash our hands, but
still waste the water
and share the blame.
We don’t care if we don’t want to,
our days continue just the same.

© 2018 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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April is Poetry Month

Posted on April 11, 2015 by j.g.lewis Leave a comment
_MG_7817
she and me

 

 

Like filthy pigeons, we huddled
atop the cold metal
of the warm subway grate.
Hand up, handouts, we waited
while we wait. Most walk by.
She,
she shared
her beer and
her body. She took me in
for a time, she
had a room.
Her home
little more than a door
separating by-the-week rubbies
from her possessions.
A toaster oven,
a lucite radio,
stacks
upon
stacks
of paperbacks.
The guitar.
A musty cot, our nest
for those seven, eight weeks.
Milk stayed cold on the windowsill,
pressed against
cracked
frosted glass.
She shared her warmth, and sensibilities.
She busked, I begged.
Until I felt I was above this.
 

©2010 j.g. lewis

 

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

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