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 . . .

tis’ the season

Make this a month
of substance. Sparkle
with the season. Reflect
back the light of those
who make all our days
a little brighter.

Mondays are just young Fridays

Information is always available. On the news, in conversation and general commotion, you can’t help but hear it. 
   Do you listen? 
   Do you hear what is being said, by others or yourself? 
   What someone says often differs from what others have heard. 
   Do you recognize the patterns that infiltrate common thought? 
   Who will listen? 
   We all have bits of information and convincing concerns rattling about our heads — you know the ones; the ones that keep coming back — that are varied and confusing. By talking them out we are allowed to remove them from our minds and better address them openly. 
   An open mind. 
   It all comes from talking, and through listening, mainly to your self. 
   Talking things out allows you to gain greater perspective to all the concerns, issues and problems you may be experiencing. 
   We all have problems . . . I know I do. 
   Talking them out seems to help. 

11/27/2023                                                                                                j.g.l. 

take the time

Forgiveness, thankfulness, mindfulness, gratitude; we don’t take the time as frequently as we should to express what is important to those who are important. We are all human. With all we all have going on, it is too easy to forget where we are, or drift away from where we were. It takes time. It takes effort. It takes honesty. It is hard to find the time. It’s harder to make the time. Now is the time.

© 2018 j.g. lewis  

I'm like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
other times
dull or
Still I write.

j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.

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Not Even There

Posted on July 15, 2015 by j.g.lewis Leave a comment



I could say I’ve been sorry, or least of all try.
I could think of more reasons, I can’t think of more whys.
City streets nearly barren, the clock nearly two,
there’s nothing worth doing, or there’s nothing to do.
So come see the night, how I think it should be.
Open your eyes. Admission is free.

Let’s walk under the moonlight like it’s not even there.
Remembering moments, remembering where.
We could question our virtues, or shout out at fate,
laugh at the boundaries we haphazardly create.
Still, there’s no point showing the scars we once knew,
this is the night to think it all through.

In daylight I’m restless, it’s become a disease.
Yet I won’t beg for mercy, I can’t even say please.
I won’t become another victim, who walks in their sleep,
I won’t pick or choose battles as I look for relief.
All that’s familiar is the uncertain dance,
deciding on whether it’s choice, or it’s chance.

We can go on pretending we are getting on with life,
with its make-believe anger and fictional strife.
Still we know how we are, and we know what is ours.
Let’s get back to believing, and get lost in the stars.
Little comes from resistance. Little comes over time,
little comes from knowing what is no longer mine.

Time passes like traffic, oftentimes too slow,
keeps changing directions, unsure where it goes.
It takes longer to get there than you once realized,
as you hold back the wonder, or hold in the surprise.
Months turn to years, and you get stuck in a lane,
mistakes keep returning again, and again.

Storm clouds are rolling, gathering up the rain,
to rinse off the silence and wash out the pain.
Let’s walk through the night like it’s not even there,
and make up a version of our own truth or dare.
Forget the umbrella, we’ll get soaked to the skin.
If we don’t have the answers, will we find them within?

We can pick off the problems, like lint on a sleeve,
take a pulse of our feelings, and control of our needs.
We could walk like it’s nothing. We could walk like we’re real.
We could walk like you walk, walking away from a deal.
Still the money’s on the table, I’ve got nowhere to go
and nowhere I want to, nowhere but home.

© 2015 j.g. lewis

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