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 . . .

future progress

It is often history that clouds our judgment, and even prevents us from seeing the true and right path we must take going forward.

   The steps we have already made, even those unplanned, play a meaningful role in the direction we have chosen. But, they do not always have to chart the course of future progress.

   Progress, yes, it is what we must do, even unknowingly.

 

02/05/2023                                                                                  j.g.l.

 

 

Important

The coldest morning of the winter
reminds you what is truly important:
– a warm parka
– garbage mitts
– a positive attitude
– good coffee

Spring is coming.
So is the weekend.

02/03/2023                                                                                      j.g.l.

cloud songs

        Our dreams, scattered
     amidst our memory, last night
            or the one before.
     The dream, the day
     inconsequential as
          the music that plays
            in the coffee shop.
            It is all noise
       cluttering the silence
       we think we want to hear.

02/02/2023                                                                       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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Seasons Change

Posted on April 19, 2016 by j.g.lewis Leave a comment

 

IMG_3546

Summer Scents
.
The cork released, the bottle waved,
    just below her nose. 2:10.
    Breathe.
    Bubbles tickle, a scent of pears
    and citrus, the taste of summer.
Damn you, for making me wait, she
    whispers. She smiles.
    2:15, he said. He was never late.
    The bottle set on ice, denying herself
    the indulgence, preferring the       sensation of want. Intoxicating.
    Prosecco.
    Crisp and clear
    an afternoon by the pool
    Just a few minutes. Soon.
    Breathless, with anticipation.
She said she would never wait,
    but this
    is different.

Autumn Sense

The bottle shouts
    into a space tainted by the dread
    of autumn.
    Colourless the air,
    deep burgundy takes over. Malbec,
    Clouding reality.
    Clearing the mind.
    She disappears into the evening
    thoughtlessly ignoring
    all she should not.
    Night after night the bottle calls out
Damn you, she whispers to the stillness.
    She accepts the reality, but not
    the pain.
    As dawn approaches, time remains
    shrouded in thoughts once ignored.
I can’t do this any more, she screams.
    Nobody can hear, not even
    her self.
© 2015 j.g. lewis
.

.

April is Poetry Month
something new every day
spread the words

 

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