What is this glowing orb?
This sunshine bright
Kind of light?
Did I beckon this
Upon me?
Due to past good deeds?
Or is this simply a sample
Of our time? Or a theme
Running with radiance
Across a random Monday's skyline
On how to get where.
I’ve begun recycling emotions
so they’ll last longer
and we can save the rat-bag planet.
Sometimes I jump in elevators
I did it this morning
on the third floor
this guy looked at me, askance.
“Do you think you’re going to live forever?” I demanded.
Sometimes I look at Peter and think
that he’s the sexiest guy on earth
I want to ravish him - and we’re at breakfast.
Can a boyfriend be TOO perfect?
“I could do better,” I tell him, out of the blue
- because you’ve got to keep them on their toes.
“Don’t beat yourself up,” he said, looking up from his buttery-croissant, sympathetically.
“You’re doing your best,” he added.
“Wait,” I said, “what are we talking about?”
.
.
Songs for this:
What's going on by Paul Carrack
.Mondays, oh Mondays, how I despise thee,
You always arrive so quickly, can't you let me be?
I drag myself out of bed, feeling so blue,
Knowing I have a long week ahead, what can I do?
But Fridays, oh Fridays, how I adore thee,
With the weekend in sight, I feel so free!
The workday flies by, I'm filled with glee,
Daydreaming of a longer nap and a breakfast feast for me!
So Mondays, I bid adieu with a sigh,
But don't take it personally, it's not you, it's I.
I'll see you next week, with a new attitude,
And maybe then, we'll start off on a better interlude.
For even though I hate the start of the week,
I'll try to find some happiness, my thoughts to tweak.
And who knows, maybe one day I'll find,
That Mondays aren't so bad, with a different state of mind.
I wonder:
is one man's ballad
invalid
word salad
or a plant-based substitute
for veggie palates?
A Lady of the Night took fright
When she saw her customer's plight
For Jack-the-Ripper
Held a glass slipper
On a Monday, nothing goes right!
When the time is Sunday,
it goes by so quickly, that soon
becomes Sunday again...
but when is monday
everything becomes slow,
time does not pass
as we desire...
24 hours is a century,
the week does not finish...!
Is always Monday......
Sunday, never comes... !
Rising on this Monday morning
Making breakfast like Monday wife
Burning eggs in Owens Corning
Starting early my Monday strife
Mirror glance, I have Monday hair
Sunday wet-head is Monday death
Feeling like I have Monday care
Emitting stench, my Monday breath
Gulping down strong hot Monday joe
Steaming coffee burns Monday face
Fairest of face has Monday woe
Tuesday’s child has had Monday grace
Dealing with grumpy Monday drive
Traffic moves a crawl, Monday speed
Lucky to be Monday alive?
Spatting cuss words, my Monday creed
Greeting my lazy Monday boss
Bitters my Monday rank and file
Losing the first Monday coin toss
Plastered an ugly Monday smile
Boss-man questions Monday alarm
Realize my fond Monday mistake
Drinking weekend did Monday harm
It’s Sunday and I am awake!
Never will I indulge in gin
Thinking that it’s Monday again!
Written 8/4/18
Contest: Mondays Poetry Contest
Hosted by: Tania Kitchin
MONDAYS TO BEGIN
Monday starts the week, prime and prominent.
My first day in a new environment.
School -days began under disciplined tone.
Quite different from family zone.
Again, exciting Monday to start college.
Love and romance peeped shyly in teen age.
Proud youth shined in brilliance and charm.
Cheerful ambient set in decorum.
Thrilling Monday appeared to join job.
Struggle went on moving like swinging bob.
Just to pursue a desirable career,
hard effort to overcome each barrier.
On one Monday wedding destined to happen.
Built up family showing light to children.
Now passing through last phase, life solitary.
Monday no more special, just ordinary.
03/08/2018
Mondays are good, nice and easy,
never make me even a little queasy.
You see, there' s two days quite different
before, so a clear message gets sent.
Mondays I plan, fresh energy sizzles
Problems can start if there's rain or drizzles.
Tuesday's fine; especially if it is!
Thursdays though – I often forget
thinking it's Wednesday, I don't fret.
Woops the deadline's gone
I need an apology song!
Written 3 August 2018
Entered in Brian Strand's August 2018 Premiere Contest
Mondays follow Sundays, but are they really fun days?
Start the week with not enough sleep, walking in a haze.
On my hair grows more greys in so many darn ways-
Am I getting old or is this crabbiness just a phase?
Make the beds and prepare the lunches ready,
count the heads then to school driving steady.
In the car way too loud in this ninety-four Chevy,
I scream, “be quiet please, Betty, Freddie and Eddie!
A day of clothes stacked in nineteen rows,
my God these three kids! And my husband knows
that when I have too much to do my stress grows-
Oh, Mondays bring me the throes of woes!
Spend all day quietly alone then the hubby gets home,
the dog barked loud the cat meowed; my mind blown!
At the end of the day I lay and moan and groan,
I’d have to say that on Monday’s appreciation is unknown!
Mondays Poetry Contest
August 1, 2018
Mondays were school days.
Mondays were rule days.
Mondays can be cruel days.
Sundays make me sing
but Mondays bring
open books,
a crooked look from the boss,
leaving crying children
with their first strangers.
The outlook for Monday
might be blue
or overly optimistic.
Moms love Mondays,
circling the day
with a fat red marker.
Moony-eyed Mondays,
for lovers
separated by the weekend.
Their love-mobile
yellow bus, reunites their lips.
Shy Mondays
hide behind rain clouds,
and binders and backpacks,
and inside lockers,
and behind thick glasses.
Fridays make you tingle.
Mondays are the starting line.
The race is on!
You step over the line
and yawn and sip
coffee with reluctance.
Your t-shirt speaks loudly,
“I don’t do Mondays!”
No one hears you.
7/30/2018
Tania Kitchin’s Contest
MONDAY IS PART OF THE WEEK,
THAT APPEARS EVERY MONTH,
CLIMBING A MOUNTAIN AND
CARRYING A MONKEY ON HIS BACK,
LOOKING LIKE A MONK WITHOUT AN IGLOO.
NOBODY MOCKS A MONDAY WITHOUT A MONKEY ON IT BACK.
Mondays
may as well be
cry days
kids
called back
to school
and
play dates
over
teachers
expecting
stellar
homework
assignments
and…
an apple
would be nice
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Mondays
What are Mondays for, but manic,
Always waking up in a panic!
Never succeeding to get right out bed,
Turning alarm clocks off, contemplating calling in dead!
Stumbling off to the bathroom with haste,
Demanding, “Get out it’s my turn, make space!”
Realizing that I have nothing to wear,
I should have bought that darn outfit at Claire’s!
Running downstairs at a clumsy paced speed,
Gulping down breakfast of toast, eggs, and cheese.
Catching the mirror on my way out,
Noticing no make-up to put on a pout!
Opening the door as the clock chimed past eight.
Oh, what was this all for, I will be nothing but late!
Standing there contemplating excuses in my head,
Justified that I may as well go back to my bedroom instead!
29 July 2018
Like a persistent pest
it is an uninvited guest
it ousts me from cozy nest
only to snap my sweet rest
My Monday morning alarm
takes a slap on him with no harm
the day stares at my tantrum
after the alarm states its dictum
I pull myself out in gall
worst day with his wet pal
brings cold and chill rainfall
ever the two time it ill in call.
This double whammy that stirs
Rain and Monday take my slurs.
22-Feb-2018
Rainy Days And Mondays - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
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