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 . . .

pocket poem 2024

                 Current Thoughts

           Open your mouth, let words
   bypass lips. Converse consciously
   to brethren or bystanders.
       Reach out to
   close friends gone amiss.
       Be not afraid, not now, of
   articulating current thoughts and
   accomplishments of which
   you are proud, and even your sins
   (for we have all owned a few)
        might seem far less tragic
         from an altered point of view.
               Give fresh voice
   to insecurities and anxieties hidden
   within your self, speak highly of
      those dusty dreams
            languishing on a shelf.
   Past sullen moments cast a
   lengthy shadow, short-term
   expectations tend to dull down
   long-term possibilities.
      Talk freely around all you want,
   or hope, or desire to be.
      Each intention will resonate
      with those who wholly believe.
   Understanding takes effort.

© 2024 j.g. lewis

April 18th is Poem in Your Pocket Day
a day to celebrate poetry by selecting a poem,
carrying it in your pocket, and sharing with the
friends and strangers who cross your path.
Share a poem wherever the day takes you, as you
would share a smile, a gesture, or your kindness.
Sharing is caring.

April is Poetry Month
take a poem to lunch

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

 

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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Sadness, grief, fear, and anger

Posted on June 9, 2021 by j.g.lewis // 2 Comments

I am numb.
   Actually, I am sickened by Monday’s developing news about four pedestrians killed by a truck Sunday evening in a city not that far away from me. Then it was reported a fourth person, a boy, who also suffered serious injuries.
   It was later reported that all victims were three generations of the same family, who were hit when a truck jumped the curb at an intersection.
   By Monday night, it was reported that it was not an accident, but a premeditated attack on a Muslim family.
   The nine-year old boy has lost his father, mother, sister and grandmother: targets of a 20-year-old man who deliberately drove onto the sidewalk and mowed down this family.
   He did so because they were Muslim.
   It was a racial attack.
   It was mass murder.
   The driver has been charged with four counts of first-degree murder and one count of attempted murder. Police have said other charges, including terrorism, are possible.
   We’ll learn more as the week progresses, even more when the driver, barely out of his teens, appears in court Thursday.
   The investigation continues and the news spreads – like sadness, grief, fear, and anger – across this country; across this globe.
   It was an act of terrorism, said Canada’s Prime Minister Justin Trudeau.
   My heart and soul reverberates with each piece of news from every broadcast I hear. My eyes tear up as I read newspapers and points of view on social media.
   I can make no sense of this.
   I don’t think like that.
   This was a family out for a walk together on a warm spring evening, one of the few things we can do, as a family, in these COVID-19 lockdown days.
   They were attacked.
   They were killed because of what they represented to one man.
   I don’t like thinking about it, can hardly write about it, and don’t want to talk about it; but I must.
   We all must talk more openly about racism and hatred in any form.
   We must talk with family, friends and strangers.
   We must speak out against hate. And discrimination. We must speak out against violence, in action and intention, against others.
   We must do this together.
   We are all human.
   Speak out against hate
   Speak up for others
   Speak up for your self.
   Speak up for this family.

© 2021 j.g.lewis

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2 replies on “Sadness, grief, fear, and anger”

I am in such total agreement. Because of the continued hate that seems to be spewing forth like a broken fire hydrant, I’m finding it harder and harder to pay any attention to the news, feeling like if I do, I’m actually feeding the hate, giving it credence. I just do not understand at all. It feels like mankind is a ruptured and oozing boil, spreading its infectious ugliness to all. I always appreciate your comments though I’m not sure how it helps our sick, sick society. We who read you are already aware of the problem; those who are the problem close the book, slam the door, against any suggestion that their beliefs are morally and ethically wrong. I too am saddened, grief stricken, and angry — and feeling so helpless other than to try to love and care and respect everyone that I meet, hoping that the lack of confrontation is enough to destroy their hateful beliefs. Dunno. Dunno. But thank you, every day, for your thoughts.

It’s all too much. Every day there is more. It hurts.
I write to let it out and, at times, it won’t flow.
We all need to keep trying. Thank you for coming.
deep peave

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