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

Qualifying questions, remedial response.

Knowledge of situations often haunt.

What we know or have been told.

We tell ourselves we just don’t know.

Answers formed by thoughts untold.

Rumour and misinformation often sold.

Conspiracy theories tend to rule the day.

Bare truth and logic will get in the way.

04/22/2024                                                                                                            j.g.l.

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.

the form of a poem

Have you written your saddest story,
or are you living it now?
Do you keep track of days in a diary?
Does the ink run like rain, entries full
of temptation or pain that upsets the
balance of this so-called life?
When you reread the words, can you
recall emotions that cut like a knife
through the bullshit and bafflegab
you have continually endured.
Does it still hurt?
Does it settle on the page in the
form of a poem, will it forever remain
a secret never to be known to those
who inspired feelings you simply
cannot forget?
Can you wear the scars with pride,
or will you always regret?

04/21/2024                                                                                                     j.g.l.

April is Poetry Month
it is all about emotion

despair

Who will write the eulogies
for those taken far too early? Too
young, unsuspecting, trusting
it was just another day.
Cheeks flush with joyous youth
never again revealed. At seventeen
you never know what lays ahead;
still once they had a chance.

How will we write the eulogies
for those now reported dead?
Where will we find the words
lost in prayer, ignored in protest,
or excuses plentiful as guns;
empty as a classroom desk.
We know, only, we never know
when we will last inhale.

Who will write the eulogies
for those left behind. Will they
remember the despair of that day,
or will it be forgotten as we deal
with yet another tragedy, another
unscripted war on a world long ago
stripped of its innocence, grasping
now to any shred of benevolence.

© 2018 j.g. lewis

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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Sense And Scentuality

Posted on August 17, 2016 // 1 Comment

_MG_9650 - Version 2

                                              Scant silken stream
                                                                        dividing line
                                                                  between reality
                                                                 and sensuality
                                                                                     softly
                                                                    floating upwards
                                                                        filling space
                                                                   between the ribs
                                                                                        inhale
                                                                              sandalwood
                                                                  lavender or patchouli
                                                                                 jasmine
                                                                               at night
                                                                   ease the mind
                                                                           wipe away
                                                                 remains of the day
                                                                             you can’t stop
                                                                                     time
                                                                              but you can
                                                                                 make it
                                                                                    bearable
                                                                                  scent
                                                                    the swiftest route
                                                                              to memory
                                                                               or comfort
                                                                               as you retreat
                                                                                       from
                                                                                  negative forces
                                                                   the essence of the moment
                                                                                        returns
                                                                                         a gentle
                                                                                    equilibrium
                                                                                    meditation
                                                                                   moments
                                                                                  for the self
                                                                                     marginalize
                                                                            negative influences
                                                                                           neutralize
                                                                       behaviours and patterns
                                                                                            creating
                                                                                   an environment
                                                                                              of hope
                                                                                       and awareness
                                                                                strengthen the senses
                                                                                                    soften
                                                                                             your world

                                              ©2016 j.g. lewis

The Screen Has Edges; Our World Does Not

Posted on August 10, 2016 Leave a comment

Enlight1-27

There are opinions, thoughts, and people beyond this simple screen.

Voices travel through the gravity-defying glass and steel skyscrapers, and swiftly across the streets of sweet suburbia built over farmlands and ancient burial grounds serviced by the multi-lane highways butting up against old-growth forests.

Lessons are found on the sidewalks amongst the gypsies, punk rockers, tattooed love children and well-heeled pensioners, as much as they are in education’s hallowed halls or the food courts and washrooms of cash-strapped shopping malls.

Like a breath, wisdom is found in the breeze — most times gentle — and travels through us all, picking up the scent of humanity and carrying the emotions we live with day after day. These words are honest, and forthright; pollen for poets, snack food for thinkers, and dreams for disenchanted youth.

There is an attitude that cannot be denied, and there is a new place to find these thoughts.

The Urban Howl will capture the mood of the moment, expressing ideas and desire of those who, like us, want something more than what is dealt out by politicians, franchised into mediocrity, and allocated by a society that has lost its way.

Are we dreaming? Hell yeah, but isn’t that what this life is all about?

So much is happening in this vast virtual world. For months now we’ve been waiting for the stars to align, the right phase of the moon, and for the clock to stop ticking. We’ve been transforming as we wait, while the world changes, as it does, and as it always will be.

We want to capture that change, acknowledge not only what is happening, but also what can happen. It can happen right here.

http://theurbanhowl.com

The Urban Howl offers a platform for hope, for knowledge, and for curiosity. It is as open-minded as it is open to interpretation. There are no boundaries to this community, and writers and readers from across this big blue planet are welcome to participate. Come and join us on the frontline of a new magical paradigm.

The screen has edges; our world does not.
© 2016 j.g. lewis

http://theurbanhowl.com/2016/08/09/iwant-j-g-lewis/

Familiar Road

Posted on August 3, 2016 Leave a comment

live

Brightening sky, the questioning why,
each day.     World not awake, not yet,
and neither are you.     Off to work, or
off to where?               The road ahead,
you only stare.
This is not living, but coping. Existing,
at this hour.          We do
what we must, as we can, in the space
stretching between silence and
satisfaction.                          Biding time,
tempted by what we know
and what we need.     Questioning why.
Another try, day for day,
find your way.                   Another wait.
Familiar road.    Days the same, no one
to blame, but your self.     If you choose,
if you see,
if you try, if you feel.
The bills arrive, of that we know.
Is this the only way to go?             Live,
  as you can, and must, amid the truth,
 without the trust.        Questioning sky,
common day, recognizable road,
is there another way?
   It is as much about how you navigate
                     your way through daylight,
                 as it is through the darkness.
Take the time, know what is right,
sustain yourself through the light.

© 2016 j.g. lewis

Uneasily Accepted

Posted on July 27, 2016 Leave a comment

 

Enlight1

It is too easy to buy into the trash talk liberally sprinkled about this planet.

With access to an abundance of online platforms, all those thoughts, ideals, posts and propaganda discounting or documenting the evil ways of one faction or another are far too available on social or mainstream media.

It has become acceptable.

We are force-fed ideologies, dogma, practices and policies from politicians and posers (generally one in the same) preaching not just a better way, but the only way; their way; the right way (and it is oh-so-wrong). It is a world of scintillating sound bites and malicious headlines that don’t make sense.

It’s too easy to accept the bullshit that continues to pile up on the shiny floors of government or along the protester-lined main streets. It’s difficult to determine what really matters once caught up in this foolish chatter.

It has become too easy for politicians to stray from the business of guiding the country and getting caught up in the highly publicized displays of arrogance and shameless self-promotion. In their need to offer rhetoric instead of real truth, our leaders (no longer a meaningful term) slough off their intended roles.

A politician’s tradition role is to tend to the affairs of our nations, managing economies, propping up currency markets, and sorting through developing social issues, health care concerns, protection of the citizenry, and legislating the laws of the land.

It is their job, and they are paid to do it. Yet they don’t.

Shame on them!

No: shame on us. We allowed all of this to happen.

We bought into it, and continue to do so. It is served to us on silver platters, or sucked up from silver spoons. We have become trained to accept the politics of negativity. Instead of being allowed to embrace the principles of democracy offered and allowed in developed nations, we let those elected officials waste our precious time and resources on this damned one-upmanship we have allowed to prosper.

It is an abuse of power. Politics is no longer about party representation, or reinforcing and advancing the rights of the people. It is now, only and solely, a blood sport. We have just witnessed the conventions of the two major U.S. parties in an election year. Neither party has emerged from the respective gatherings as unified.

Unity, it seems, is no longer a platform for either party. Unity has become less of a concern for anybody.

We allowed it to happen. No, it hasn’t been an immediate thing. It has taken decades, and it began long before one American president began talking about a kinder, gentler nation. Over time, this top-down propensity for greed and power has accelerated to the point where it has forcibly entered our own very lives.

We have come to accept that this unabashed ignorance is a socially acceptable way of behaving. We are led by example. Too many of us are too quick to point out what is wrong with the way somebody lives or loves, instead of accepting the diversity of color, faith, sexual orientation or gender identity now openly available to us.

We have allowed video-game violence to become ethos instead of entertainment. It has become me against you, or them. Right now it is easier to say, “what the fuck is this whack-a-do talking about” than it is to consider that I may have a point.

It is more convenient to criticize a concept or lambaste an original idea than it is to find fault in questionable authority.

It has become easier to say ‘oh well’ than it is to ask ‘why’.

It Belongs To You And No One Else

Posted on July 20, 2016 Leave a comment

Enlight1

It’s like the off-colour sweater and unworn shoes resting in your closet. At the time, whenever that was, they seemed perfect. You bought them on impulse, yes; but isn’t that when you make some of your best decisions?

Not in this case. You’ve looked at them time and again, even slipped them on, on occasion, but they never made it much further than the mirror. Your head sunk in dismay. They were just there.

You can’t wear them, nor can you seem to pack them up and give them away to the Goodwill. They belong to you, but you refuse to own them, like all that other ‘stuff’; the parking tickets jammed above your visor, or credit card statements and unopened emails . . . or unreturned phone calls. Ignored, but evermore on the mind.

It’s not just the physical things — its, bits, and stuff strewn about our lives — that continue to cast a shadow across the here and now. Even the intangible becomes tactile. We all have thoughts that show up in the darker hours, over-amplified memories, or words stuck in the windpipe, along with the misguided metaphysical breath, shameful soul-talk, or full-throttle dreams of angst or anger.

All your low-level attempts at stepping up to a higher ground, they build up over time. You like to think they are held at bay, but they surface, again, to remind you what was or shouldn’t have been.

We become hypersensitive to our unlived dreams and time misspent, we continue to live there and continue to pay rent.

Own it. Just fucking own it.

As much as we can take pride in our accomplishments and things we’ve done well, we also need to recognize all the crappy stuff that splatters across our windshield. This is the mess that slows us down and reduces our vision.

We don’t do something because something else was done (or not done) years ago. Persons not even there, or places lived only in our subconscious, keep holding us back. And we continue to find the stupidest reasons not to go there.

It’s time to let all the stuff out. Make whatever attempt to say what needs to be said, give forgiveness or make amends. Speak now, off the cuff, or from the heart. Give voice to your doubts, your fears, or unreasonable reasons. Put them out there.

Own it.

To not open up the proverbial Pandora’s box, or to refuse to breathe the scent of time gone by, prevents us from being whom we should be, or from living in the now. It becomes part of an emotional deficit you cannot acknowledge. It belongs to you, and no one else, so you carry it through your private hell.

Clear it out. Find value in what is there, they are reminders, but maintain them only as memory. The lessons learned or bridges burned are from another time. The past has passed. What happened, what you had, made you what you are, but instead of allowing the baggage to weigh you down, use it to prop yourself up. Look at how far you have come, instead of wishing you were back there.

The misdeeds and temporary greed, the moonlight desires and liquid need. Own it.

Just fucking own it.

Then move on.

Our minds may have infinite capacity, but couldn’t we better function with a little more room to breathe?

© 2016 j.g. lewis

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