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 . . .

Mondays are just young Fridays

The clock and the calendar move
forward incrementally, naturally
(as it should be) from a darker
winter we can’t leave behind to
something resembling spring.
In-between our seasons we take
whatever we can, where we are.
We have little choice.
A less-than-enthusiastic forecast
glares at me from a mobile device,
with greater chance of soakers
more than once or twice in the
week ahead as atmospheric rivers
come down to earth (a convenient
excuse for all it’s worth).
April showers still to come, as it
happens, as it is always done, we
keep moving forward step-by-step
mainly in spite of the weather.

03/27/2023                                                                                                             j.g.l.

of interest

your knowledge is
your currency

save up for what
you need or desire

there is interest
in your wisdom

03/26/2023                                                                                        j.g.l.

all my flaws

Who can you blame?
Are the feelings unjust when a decision is a matter of knowing you must find fault or favour with the ill winds of change?
It is never enough to simply rearrange plans or predicaments. It is like making a prediction of all my flaws with my faith as fractured or fragile as it is, or has been.
Far easier to see what I haven’t been doing.

03/24/2023                                                                                                         j.g.l.

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.

Follow on social media

Keep in touch

Enter your email to receive notification of significant posts. Don't worry, I won't clog up your inbox or sell your data

An Explanation

Posted on May 30, 2018 by j.g.lewis Leave a comment

Poem Kubili has its limitations. A game at heart, really, a challenge to include two words – not of your choice – in a poem you should be proud to call your own.

The two words are not, however, a muse; a muse is so much more, and need not be expanded upon for art is found in expression, and not in explanation. Two words are only pawns, only, in this game (to award them any higher status would make a mockery of the process).

Perhaps as one who partakes in the game (but also in the craft of poetry) I may therefore also be a pawn, but for the sake of the game I accept these boundaries (which also include the inability to lay down your words in the format they were intended; the Facebook format deters line length and layout, and line break).

Nonetheless, I play the game.

I play the game once a week. To play the game any more often is to infringe on what you want to do, because there are things you have to do (don’t we all, already, do this enough in every day life?).

Shouldn’t poetry be more than a game in the short time we are allowed on this earth? Can poetry not be a challenge in itself? It is a challenge that should be enjoyed, I think, but I play the game, still
preferring to be a poet and not a player.

I still play the game, and I am saddened, especially today, because what I want to say will not fit between the lines.

The poem I wrote this week will not fit into the space (no matter how hard I try) without cutting and changing, rejecting or rearranging ideas and phrases. This week I find there is not enough room to allow each word to wander, and not enough space to direct the thoughts without compromise.

Words have a way, and words can get away on you, not matter how you edit and format; if you cut too much, the essence of all you have written is whittled away, and isn’t that the ultimate compromise?

A poem means what you want it to mean, but if you strip away the meaning, is it even a poem?

This week my poem, my words (including the required two) can be found on my home page at:

Thank you for reading.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.