Mythos & Marginalia

2015 – 2025: a decade of days


  • anything and everything

    It is vast, and unblemished, maybe even uninteresting, at first.
    At the beginning of the day, to the naked eye, it is nothing more than a vacant page, or space between the lines. Upon closer inspection, it is anything but.
    A page lies as open as an eye. This is my landscape. You see white space; I see themes and dreams, and possibility. The view changes, as does my mind, by the minute, moment-to-moment, year to fear, as each day becomes each day, and I am still here.
    The landscape changes, oft times like a blur through a car window. It’s like that when you travel forward. Look closely at what you see, take note of the spared indifference to what is, and what could be. This is more than my breath, voice, thoughts, leftovers or left behinds. It is more than indulgence and possessions.
    It is there for a reason.
    This is a world of secrets in a universe of sounds. It contains sins and silence, handily left for obsessive thoughts, and action. I know no discomfort, or a source for objective reasoning, so it should be as it flows, and like any great adventure you are never aware when it stops. There are no endings.
    It is not about anything, or could be about everything. It is my landscape.
    As permanent as chalked messages on a sidewalk, as indelible as DNA, there is something here than need not be understood, but it can be. And should. If you take the time, take what is mine, and read between the lines to see what might matter now to you, or me.
    This is my landscape. It may not all be personal, but it is intimate, and available. It is not a complete picture, but it is honest. It is here to entertain and inform, even advise, but take my words with a grain of fault, for there is nothing more human than a human being struggling to exist. I do both; struggle, and exist.
    This is my landscape, even when it is all mixed up. I might say some things now and then I am now only trying to comprehend, and admittedly there is naivety, as I want to learn, to know, to understand. So it goes from society’s distinct or damaged black and white to every Kodachrome colour that is, sadly, missing in this day and age. I use the past only as a reference, and not a regret; I have none; I can’t, at least not yet.
    Judge me not by my words or what I believe, take nothing for granted, if you know what I mean. Beneath all adventures, or even my stillness, is a strong inner voice. Not by purchase and not by choice. My blood boils with anger, and terror, and compassion. And love. I have a purpose, with promise, thoughts ever full of hope, evermore. Finding momentum to even my most dormant dreams I break it down again, and again.
    Again. These are my eyes.
    There is no revolution, not right now. Perhaps, maybe, there will be, for someone, somewhere else, a person to show something new about you, or your inner being. It may not be me, but keep reading, to see.
    This is my landscape. These are my dreams.

  • take a stand

    An active pacifist,
    I am                        resilient, steadfast,
    passive,                  yet passionate
    about all that inspires me.

                             Protest.

    Upsetting,
                             at times confusing,
           we take a stand when we can
    but not always
    when we should.
                                                      Do we
    choose to ignore
    the significantly unsettling actions
    of them who believe in something else?

                                Why?

    How can we know
    the truth untold, but
    exhibited so many ways?

    Are we not blessed
    with perception?                    Can we
    know the ignorance evident 
    in public displays of rejection?

    Stand up for what matters.
    Make it matter.          More.

                                                      Can you
    believe in your heart, in
    your soul?            In me?

    There is so much more to say.
    Will you?              Speak up.

    © 2021 j.g. lewis

  • blended with the heavens

    I’m not sure I can kneel down before you, or 
    give in to your power. Not like before. 
    A situation such that I am unsure whom or what 
    I can trust, let alone myself. Still I look up. 
    Here I stand, pockets full of dust, starry eyes 
    gazing through the ozone. Toxins leech freely 
    into the atmosphere. Degradation of the night sky 
    deprives us of opportunity to see 
    what we once believed. You are there. 
    See me for what I am as I try to listen 
    through misaligned radio frequencies.
    I cannot know where you have been. 
    You hide. It is your way. 
    My hands are not big enough 
    to grasp the message. 
    I’m not looking for the sky to save me, nor
    am I waiting for the time to be right. I need 
    to go home now and find what is so far away. 
    I’ve lost my balance. 
    I’m losing my fear of heights.

    Equality may never be, the darkness and bright 
    allow us only to see what we want, not what 
    we could have been. A level of light is expected,
    my immeasurable impatience is being taunted. 
    However you look at it, whether you believe 
    in you, or believe me, this poetic justice 
    is all I have known. Your shadow remains 
    blended with the heavens. A starry night 
    will not dissuade your presence 
    in the lives you alter, or the ones you destroy. 
    Yet, in this moment, I know I would try again. 
    How could I not? 
    The option of a moonless night 
    is more of what I have been living, than how I 
    want to live. Between particles of unknown origin 
    in an ever-increasing pool of light pollution, space 
    junk, and refracted thought of a thousand 
    nameless faceless constellations, 
    you are still there.
    I’m not looking for the sky to save me.

    © 2016 j.g. lewis

  • connect with the context

    Is it the sunset you enjoy, or the shadows it casts? Have you stopped for a moment to figure it out?
       In reality, it is how you choose to see it.
       Perception changes, and you with it. It is not the reverse. To shift your perspective requires an influence, but despite what you hear, read or see, the viewpoint of the world surrounding you will come from within.
       Yes, we listen to others: educators, politicians, salesmen or solicitors, and whether we are told that the world is flat, which automobile is the safest, or how a policy will dramatically reduce carbon emissions over the next decade, it is the personal processing of this information that will determine your ultimate answer. 
       We, all too often, rely on the words of others when trying to understand anything around us.   Explanation involves thinking outside of yourself and considering the consequences, values and benefits. In trying to listen to the flood of information coming at you, it is assumed knowledge that will form your opinion.
       What if I told you that when watching a sunset, you are actually paying more attention to the clouds, than you are to the actual Sun? Would you stop for a moment and wonder what you’ve always taken in?
       The Sun never changes (well, not in immediate terms); it burns, full power, 24 hours a day. We see it more or less, depending on where we are located in relation to the time of the year. It is us that moves and not the sun
       The Sun, quite boring really, is always there. Always in the same place. It’s always round, always bright, and generates radiation that is constant, and powerful enough to light up this world and any other star, planet and galaxy in the universe.
       As it appears to dip below the horizon at the end of each day, the Sun setting is not your focus. All those colours and the glorious view you scramble to capture on your camera or mobile device is more the result of the Sun’s light reflecting and refracting through the atmosphere, precipitation or condensation, or the puffy polluted haze of our ever-expanding cities.
       The view is altered, mostly by your perception. It is still the same Sun it was hours earlier, it is still doing the same bloody thing, but somehow it is more beautiful.
       Perception.
       The Sun glows, alters the shade of buildings, the shadows of trees, and even makes common weeds, like dandelions, appear magical.
       Perspective. It is how we see things. More importantly how we see ourselves, and how we connect with the context.
       Our greatest strength should be admitting we don’t know everything and being open to learning what we need to know. Change comes with knowledge, and challenging yourself comes with connecting to your soul, investigating your id and ego and, through the process, discovering your own mythos.
       Seek answers, or self-explanation for who you are, and why you do what you do. Discover solutions, or check your hypothesis for why something didn’t turn out the way it was supposed to, or why success is likely, in whatever area you chose.
       Context.
       You can make things happen, but you need to unearth what is happening and why. Those are answers you won’t get from teachers, lawyers or policy wonks. You may not even find the answers within, but you will be stronger for looking.
       The inner voice is an inner choice.

    ©2017 j.g. lewis

  • as what will

      Frequently designated a dreamer, in perpetuum
    among many other things, he does, he admits, 
    allow little space to plan. 
                                              Rightly or wrongly, 
            this is the path 
                 he has ended up on. Difficult, perhaps, 
                   at times when cracks in the concrete led him astray. 
      Only recently discovered, by accident more than fault, is balance
    maintained in a world cluttered with discrepancies and dogma 
    forced upon him by conspiracy theorists, self-serving henchmen, 
        Jesus freaks and hangers on, black hole believers 
            and Masters of the Universe 
              who continue, ad nauseam, to propagate fear.

      Erstwhile encounters not forgotten, not 
    soon enough, minutes bypass memory, he has clung to details 
          accounted for nostalgically and passionately, 
              each plank of a moral platform galvanized and scandalized.
    He continues, white-knuckle grip, adhering
    to a belief system founded over time; tested, altered, 
    as deemed fit or favourable.
    Fully aware and seemingly appreciative, he has crossed the line 
       from seeing himself merely as a character in this long drawn-out drama 
            to bearing witness 
                             to what happens, as it happens.
    He, alone, will not wait to understand, but,
        carpe diem, record the state of a disingenuous planet.

      Each event, as it unfolds, to be accepted as what will.
    No longer a second-hand story in third-person narrative, 
                         this first-person view could offer confusion at worst, 
    discomfort at least, though instant, authentic, and liberating in ways 
    only he will determine. Tenet nosce.
     Each element of freedom comes at a cost. 
             He will taste the summer ahead, open mouthed, open-minded, 
                   without concern of those in the past, but
                       with a belief not to get too far ahead of himself 
    in the dreams he conjures. 
    Self and the spirit pacified today with the joy offered, 
          instead of looking for what 
                   is no longer there. It is easier that way.