What a way to begin the week,
A crystal blue sky reflected in a Mediterranean sea.
A Thousand Kisses Deep by Leonard Cohen,
The melody that is, not the words
Waft out from the speaker
Of the beach front hotel
In Port de Pollenca, Mallorca.
I'm biding my time, gazing onto the calm
With, coffee and treat.
There's nothing blue about this Monday
An unexpected moment of,
Bliss and solitude
Takes hold
Where everything is perfect
In a sometimes, imperfect world.
The trumpet players lips caress the melody
of; A Thousand Kisses Deep.
Sending out its waves onto a
Blue Mediterranean bay.
Then a text bleeps,
'Leaving in five.'
I arise, take up my bike and walk
In step and on the right note
For the day ahead.
Artist Annie Lee (1935-2014) “Blue Monday”
Sunken soul like setting sun
Inner child no longer smiles
Carmel like skin is no fun
Kissing hungry ribs all while
A wafting wind blows aroma in
Neighbors meals smell great
Decadent food not a sin
Tired of not having a taste
It’s a blessing bills are paid
Really appreciate that fact
Even if I won’t eat today
Do my best to not feel sad
579.
Monday Night Prayer to Santa Muerte
Santa Muerte, Lady of the Night
Bring us love this Monday night
The Love yby your Red Rose
A Godly love that lives & grows
Oh my beloved guardian
Keep us away from the clutches of Satan
With your Red Rose, embrace us this Monday night
Be at my side everynight.
Amen.
-11/04/2017
(Dumarao)
*Nightly Prayers to Santa Muerte
572.
Monday Prayer to Santa Muerte
Santa Muerte who is with us everyday
Our Sacred Protector, bless us this Monday
Grant us this Monday your Love
Your Red Rose from the above
Your loving embrace with your Red Rose
A love from God that lives & grows
Oh Santa Muerte in Red, Lady of Monday
Be with us from day to day.
Amen.
-11/03/2017
(Dumarao)
*Daily Prayers to Santa Muerte
Some weeks are odd, with days off
of a normal routine
but.......the first day of the work week is
always a bit intimidating
What if we focused on the possibility of Mondays
Making the best of the situations you are thrown into
Ordinary is boring attitude prevails
Not thinking the worst and making it the BEST
Dig in deep, think things through and make a plan
Always find the silver lining
Yahoo, making it through, despite the situation
Sweetness Ordained
Can you remember
a smell
or only a fact
Can a bakery
in passing
free a memory lapsed
A sensory
flashback
its sweetness ordained
Olfactory joy
surviving time
— and the flame
**
Breathing Closer
Death
I hear thee coming
but still see thee not
Death
your chilling shadow
Atropos casting lots
Death
breathing closer
inhaling my soul
Death
by day silent
— the darkness extols
**
Dark Symbiosis
You heard me whisper
I heard you cry
You tracked my footsteps
which bade goodbye
A star crossed tandem
in shared release
Dark symbiosis
— of love’s retreat
**
A New Calling
Don’t ever let life
deprive you
of what only
death can claim
Each day of excuse
and diverted
dreams
will lock your hope in chains
Only when final
divinely
inspired
and stepping through the wind
Toward a new
calling
and fresh paradigm
— are we blessed to rebegin
**
On Monday morning magpie sang.
I thought it was for me.
He warbled high, he warbled low,
With joy for me to see.
His head leaned back, beak to the sky
The tumbling notes rang out.
He would have sung them anyway
If no one was about.
As sun shone through the misty morn
His song continued clear.
The silences between the tunes
Delightful to my ear.
On Tuesday morning, once again
The scruffy magpie sang.
His liquid notes, from one to next,
All through the air it rang.
‘Twas for himself, the joy of life!
On sunny mornings, sing!
To other creatures, me and them,
True pleasure did it bring.
On Wednesday morning, cleaned the house,
No outside time for me.
On Thursday an appointment made
And that would have to be.
When Friday came I’d quite forgot
To miss my magpie friend.
Then at stormy evening time, I mourned.
I found him dead,
I cried because I realised
That he was old and weak.
But even so he’d sung out clear
And given joy to me.
His song goes on forever
Lilting, weaving through the sky.
A sound like that reverberates
And never will run dry.
My alarm clock wails
I bury under covers
Then work buries me
Monday prayer for a good week, that all will stay bright and light.
Monday bless us with good positive energy, that will take us through the week.
Monday can be a long day, we pray that it is as happy as can be.
Monday prayer to God that we may have all our moments blessed with success.
Almost all Mondays are hard,
transitioning to a work week from
a two day break
but today seems extra hard
since we celebrated the life
of a friend of 36 years yesterday.
It was lovely, yet hard.
I feel exhausted, emotional,
and like it should be Friday
and it isn't even 6:30 AM
on Monday yet.
Wear the green dress today
in the back of the closet.
The floor-length polyester blend
with little bicycles
peddling all over it.
Your kindergarteners
love to count the bicycles
as much as I do.
One, two, three, four
five, six, seven, eight,
(and turn around for more)
nine, ten, eleven, twelve
little bicycles.
I woke up early
to press the wrinkles out,
thinking of your freckled arms
fitting through the sleeves,
and the way you wiggle into it.
The dress still holds
the smell of citrus
perfume from before.
You sashay when you wear
long dresses on workdays.
I witness the subtle difference,
and the way you saunter,
and all your variations
color my life.
I enjoy, more than all,
the emerald fabric on you,
it has a suggestive rustle.
The heavy layers
over your toned, determined legs
is lovely to gaze at
when you strut through the kitchen.
And somewhere sleeping,
the sun in her pale and trying beauty,
has yet to drag itself
in lesser shades across the sky.
Choosing a dress for you
from your closet of forgotten colors
is still the life I want, and better
than anything outside.
Monday is like the sun, it comes no matter the time, it brings us a start of our week.
Monday is a new chance to start again, to choose our path and pick our goal, making us feel whole and focused.
Monday is a fresh breeze it hits us with many ideas, making us feel clear.
Monday is a restart to our thoughts; it gives us a new start, giving us all many paths.
Monday is like a prayer that we send to God, making our plan for the week.
May God be with us, and light our week with blessing and protection for all we seek.
Lifting prayers to God, today and always.
I seek deep truth at half past-twelve,
But find it hiding in the skokiaan again. (1)
IDA sighs again,'' know thy ale''. (3)
Phuza Face orders a second pail (2)
By dawn I've solved life's mystery grim
Its mostly froth with little brim.
So drink Majwalis,and think no more. (4)
The mind's a map,the heart
Explanation of a Pub Crawler's Philosophical terms and names
Skokiaan-an illicit home-brewed alcoholic drink made from yeast,sugar and water.Usually its consumption leads to loss of wallet,teeth,wife and kids.Devotees are especially not fond of water and general cleanliness.A nice smell
IDA- means I Drink All.This is said by someone who never buys you drink/alcohol.
Phuza Face- is a colloquial term for the physical effects of heavy or long term drinking resulting in which leads to swelling,puffiness,redness of the face,dark circles under the eyes.
Majwalis-He who is devotee of alcohol and alcoholism who drink himself to death and beyond.Usually a cheque collector. Has a phobia of not reporting for duty on Monday and Friday.
A Martyred Plea
That voice in the distance
the one that’s been scarred
A whisper screams loudest
— when heard from afar
(Dreamsleep: November, 2025)
Adrift
If you can’t find
the right harbor
At least
— find the right wind
(Dreamsleep: November, 2028)
Till Mariah Calls
Life
the aberration
Death
what’s affirmed
Alive
for a moment
Till dust
— we return
(Dreamsleep: November, 2025)
Monday morning sneaks through shack and grime,
Bullets whirr where drug barons plot their trade,
Gatas tread gingerly.wasting hours and time.
The spaza hums,mugs chime,Rooibos Tea in the lane,
Bambinos sidestep shadows,mae geri into dustty tins,
Old timers murmur incantations under the day's first pain.
Smog sprinkles from braai stands where mamtanies fry,
Pirated Kalashnikovs twinkle in the sun's first glare,
Yet souls beat steady,declining lies.
Klevahs shuffle,wallets empty,agrrements whispered fast,
Tiny tots peep through windows,hearts throbbing loud,
Even in agony,a tenacious hope holds steady steadfast.
Through shacks,mirth trembles,sharp but bright,
The day starts with grit,with pain,with dreams,
In this dream struggle, the spirit fights for light.
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