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 . . .

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.

Mondays are just young Fridays

We tire of unpredictable weather, the damp morning chill, wet socks and lost mittens. Winter keeps reminding it is not through with us.
   We have suffered long enough.
   The streets are tired and dirty and the time change only makes things darker in the morning.
   We need a brighter view.
   We need, now, the renewal that comes with spring.

03/20/2023                                                                                          j.g.l.

action

Progress comes less from planning than participation.
Dreams and wishes require action and attention.
Start moving.

03/19/2023                                                                                                         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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How Does It Feel From The Inside

Posted on November 27, 2021 by j.g.lewis Leave a comment

Collar upturned, scarf scratching

against the skin, eyes tearing as furious winds

find their way, we protect ourselves

from the intermittently indifferent month

of November. As only we can.

Atmosphere duly moistened

by pent up frustration in joys not found,

unfostered friendships, and decline

in the value of our self-worth,

deceit flows freely in these darker hours.

Our hardened hearts impervious

to even favoured words, we can hardly

hear ourselves speak, and better we not.

Each question delivered during these days

cannot summon an answer; even decisions

arrived at in November will wait.

December, with its warmer spirit and

delicate snow is then a softer month

for broken promises or shattered hearts.

We count not the days, but tolerate

this month of indecision, our time instead

sorting out emotions, impositions,

and lack of interest.

How does it feel from the inside?

The bitter cold slams against our silhouette,

while souls cry out for attention, admonition,

gentle hands or comfortable shoulder.

Even young bones creak loudly against

this change of season.

Even old souls forever remember

the intolerable month of November.

© 2017 j.g. lewis

 

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