Long Monday Poems
Long Monday Poems. Below are the most popular long Monday by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Monday poems by poem length and keyword.
It is Monday
I am at work
realizing my garbage can is missing
I look around
the library has one
it is full so I bag up the debris and discard it
Put a new bag in, and take the can to my office
Tell my friend Bride what I did
She laughs
Because the librarian is persnickety
Just wait, and watch, I say
On Tuesday I am returning from the bathroom
Bride is walking in behind Jen the librarian
Jen stops at her doorway, does not even go inside
Turns, throws up her hands and shakes them
“Someone stole my garbage can!” she yells.
I cannot look at Bride.
We are at a meeting later sitting across from Jen.
She is rambling on and on about the thief.
I am drawing garbage can cartoons
Sliding them to Bride who cannot stop laughing
I do not know what I would do
without this persnickety librarian
we got new red shirts from the PTA on Monday
It was comfy, so I wore it to school on Tuesday.
Then I texted McBride, my bestie.
Wear your new red shirt, I said, we can be twins.
She texted back “Do not wear that shirt!
It is for the birthday celebration in September!”
“Too late,” I replied. “I am at school.”
I get there two hours before most of the others.
She texted me “change that shirt!”
After peeking into my closets I saw all my shirts are long-sleeved.
The heat index yesterday was a hundred and ten.
She called me and asked what slacks I was wearing.
I said “I am wearing denim blue pedal pushers.”
This is old-school talk for “capris”.
She said “I am bringing you a shirt!”
“I won’t wear it!” I told her.
When she arrived she made me pull it out of the bag.
It was ALL of my favorite neon colors!
pinks, greens, oranges, yellows, reds.
I whipped my red shirt off and handed it to her.
Rest and watch
Bird focus sharp;
Wonder excites
~~~~~~~~~
Wide angle worldview
Venice sojourn;
Latte pit stop
~~~~~~~~~
Sad white wine
Full yet empty;
Story incomplete
~~~~~~~~~
Joy comes again
Hurl of fond fest;
Jest claims wit
~~~~~~~~~
Here and now
Pain transfigured;
Shadow runs away
~~~~~~~~~
Rainy deluge
Wet wet Monday;
Hazy allusions
~~~~~~~~~
Robot at home
Back pain hijacks;
Frozen atrophy
~~~~~~~~~
Seize the moment
Piece of mind;
Discard loose ends
~~~~~~~~~
Dripping raindrops
Sunbeam rainbows;
Myriad reflections
~~~~~~~~~
New souvenirs
Esteem tokens;
Parting gifts
~~~~~~~~~
Sobriety
Soberly aware;
Cares change hands
~~~~~~~~~
Slave to duty
Honour fare paid;
New adventure starts
~~~~~~~~~
One by one
Spectrum culled;
Too much noise
~~~~~~~~~
Beauty speaks
Truth endows;
Instant delirium
~~~~~~~~~
Excite thus
Allude then;
Collision course
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
21 November 2016
Singapore
He saw several loving what they heard and it bothered him.
They were dancing and having a grand ole
thyme. People clapping, dancing, getting along and singing along with the music.
It bothered him , I mean it really really bothered him.
See he had been a musician; he had albums, the were musical master peices. Some even were remixed to be dance songs. But one day people just stopped requesting his songs. They bought some albums : but ales were low and remained low even when his releases were new and fresh. He never changed his style, instead he'd tag-up with different people to intro interest in his sound. The did do some culturally different things, like fusing genres and sounds ,but keeping it collectively interesting using, tones, grooves, harmonic interludes, never being depressed alway optimistic. One reporter told his I love your style: because I never hear anything gossipy in the lyrics, they are one point directed right to the audience it's catering to. I do like those universal groove that compliments the beauty of love. I reaches ever audience with out insult or tease. I love your music!"Allegro to adagio and even the andante!" I really love your sound, creativity and songs!" All I could do was say thanks! But not being included in the place I wanted to be: at the time I wanted to be there: just bothered me!
Written by:
Sonata Fugue Aria
Toggy Journalistic Groover
Me Sore Parts of Monday
Dancing Friday night
music Extraordinaire
The Cattle Coat Diplomate
You can't just do that, Okay?
You can't appear once in two days and expect me to listen to you-
even though I do
You can’t vanish right after getting me excited
and assume I’ll stay right there, waiting—
even though I do.
You can’t slip thirst traps between half-finished conversations
and pretend I will fall for it—
even though I do.
You can't send the pictures of your pet dog, thinking that I'll soften-
even though I do
You can't just dress up good on a Monday and assume I'll have you hovering in my head-
even though I do
You can't just lovebomb me one day, disappear the next and expect me to like you-
even though I do
Drifting soft upon a cloud
Drifting soft upon a cloud
Heading nowhere fast
Touching every star I find
Thinking of the past
Up here in the skies of blue
Thankful for the day
Everywhere is something new
In its grand display
Reaching out to touch the wind
Flowing summer breeze
Gazing on a winding stream
There between the trees
Following a hummingbird
Quick as it can fly
Looking down upon the earth
Far below the sky
Feeling warm beneath the sun
Sending forth a smile
Drifting soft upon a cloud
Dreaming for a while
Good night Soupers
I am departing early today
Have a great weekend
I will see you again on Monday
Beloved, a clot of old youth, through her living death and breathing,
eternal repeater, she looked at the center of the edge of fate, her life
revived... the school of death, of destiny, professors with futures,
subjects of ignoring, postlude, her pleasures serious and joking,
disobedient then, from him and her, dressed, men of stones, sedentary,
joys and divorces, abstract stains, carefully sewn, all
cheered up, night upon lighting, if you don't want, you don't feel and curse,
be silent, to enter your mind, for it's December, it's... autumn
of Monday, cry of a peasant woman, young, who ignores her
angel, her soul present and real, of a man, a drought,
beautiful lack of influence, a healthy disease of wisdom.
Filled with my young, useless, clumsy thoughts, I am
the passer-by, the darkness, the rejected joy, easily lost,
attracted by a virtue, found even by my first smile...
In me grows an oldness so young it births old children,
I am a presence so absent I fill my voids with fullness.
You, my ugly beloved,
you are my sweetest torture without pain,
my coldest love, hot as the ice that burns,
the metal flower that blooms through withering,
your present absence makes me exist through disappearance,
you are the nothing from everything that becomes everything from nothing without something,
a birth so dead it kills lives born in you,
the bitter sweet honey that poisons me through healing...
you are my harshest caress with gentleness and cruelty,
my first last separation from the meeting that separates us,
my warmest love, cold as the fire frozen in flames...
I am the most from the little I have ever been in absence,
your dark light illuminates me with its white and deep darkness.
“If a picture paints a thousand words
Then why can't I paint you?”
Bread 1971
Married 41 years. Hmm let me see
If I can make 1000 words can come to be
It was a Monday in November 1983
From behind the machines my eyes did see
A beautiful on lane 20 her ball to roll
I took the ball and put a note in the hole
As odd as it may be in the past it worked
You glanced at the note and mouthed what a jerk
Six months have passed and still no date
Was think my time was done, it is too late
June 11 of 84 we found ourselves Dennys Bound
Wonderful but my wallet at home, you sat not making a sound
Way to start a relationship, you moronic dope
Any chance at love you pray and hope
Flowers on your doorstep calls on the phone
Persistent to then end to bring you home
Take your son fishing off the motel steps
Getting him to like me was my best bet
To my amazement it worked like a charm
But I really liked Jimmy so I saw no harm
July 26 of 84 in your back yard we took our vows
My heart filled with love I could only think WOW
May 1 of 85 our Jayme was born
My life filled with love lets sound the horn
Forty-one years I’ve made many mistakes
Your heart filled with love you found little hate
I sit outside and look at the sky
Asking God to please tell me why
After forty-0ne tumultuous years
Why is this woman I love still here
OK GUESS BREAD GOT IT RIGHT
243 WORDS
PUNKIN I LOVE YOU MORE THAN WORDS CAN SAY
I hope your enjoying your Sunday
Before it turns into Monday
And a new week will begin
As relaxing comes to an end
Having fun and chilling out
Is what weekends are all about
Bing watching and having snacks
Before Monday is coming back
Taking naps and getting rest
Making you feel your best
Snuggled up nice and toasty
Feeling all warm and cozy
Catching up on facebook posts
With friends who you love the most
Sending gifs, notes, and selfies
For social media to see
Enjoy this time Before its gone
The weekend doesn't last too long
Before life smacks you in the face
As work days start to take its place
My week begins the same as it ends
Sunday I pray every day of the week, with you I spend
Monday is a rapture in blue
because I know I come home to you
Tuesday for the week my only regret
there are just four days left for us but yet
Wednesday when I linger with you
dreams my love are really true
Thursday worries the world has made
holding your hand those worries fade
Friday is fun, party young things to do and undo
never a dull moment when I'm out with you
Saturday we rest, this week was the best
home is us together in solemn or jest
My week ends the same as it begins
I pray every day of the week with you I spend