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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Posted on December 10, 2016 by j.g.lewis Leave a comment

 

 

Again

Eyes rubicund and bleary, ears
resonating with a day’s worth
of corporate clamour and
the bullshit involved; feet tired
from standing up to it all,
I arrive home. Bed unmade,
purposely so, in hopes the comfort
last found in this sanctuary
remains with dreams contained
within the linen’s creases. Quilt
sewn with patches of humanity,
my true psyche lays latent in a
downy pillow’s indent, coming alive
only when I am prepared
to give up on anything hindering
peaceful presence. Frustrations
stripped off with my clothing, I
attempt to tuck in my sorted genius
long enough to allow
anything that matters
matter. Horizontally, blood
no longer rushing frantically,
languid breath, eyelids shut
preventing stray light
from staining my darkness, I
return to familiar, yet unknown,
treasures of a dormant state.
Until I wake, only to have to go
through this life, again.

© 2016 j.g. lewis

 

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