It’s high time Monday had a good reputation,
as a day as good or even better than any other,
because on this day – of all days – it’s easier
to be different and remembered as ‘that person’
who for some strange reason loves Mondays
more than Fridays, Saturdays or Sundays even;
what an easy way to stand out from the crowd
of depressed and over-stressed mess of days.
Every Hello will become a Goodbye soon enough,
and every kiss comes with an end, because this is how
memories are made and that’s what separates us
from less sentient beings, less harmful or less beings
who have no forgetting, less connecting, no remembering
and no pain in ignorant bliss – and that’s the deal
we make, that’s the gamble we take, to live and love.
There are some who treat Saturdays like a day off
and find time for nothing at all, but I’ve never understood
the waste of a perfectly good day. It was never without
too much to do, so far to run and race against the setting
sun, with nothing in the way except the next day.
Everything’s gone now, and there’s just so much
I want back – the low ceiling of the basement,
the smell of fabric softener from the dryer vent,
I want to find the dog sleeping on her bed with
sunlight warming her back; I want to hear the coffee
maker gurgling as I wake up in my bed; I want
to empty the dishwasher while it’s still warm
and find all the right places for everything;
I want to be late for almost everything again
just because I’m with you; I want what’s gone
now that I can’t have back.
Knowing where you are seems to be an overrated skill
like knowing where everything is at any given moment
in your house is a waste of mental energy because it’s
all in your house and you only need a general awareness
of locations and habits that keep me from storing
socks in the freezer, tweezers in the laundry or eggs
in the couch; so even when I don’t know where I am
it’s only a matter of my general awareness of locations
and habits and everything else about me and my life
might be a waste of mental energy – wherever that is.
When I rose today, after the sun, after everyone,
and drew an expert’s breath as I took an old man’s stretch,
thanking myself quietly that I’d prepared today’s coffee
last night before retiring to a restless rest, again successful
in my well-practiced, almost casual manner of making
difficult things look casual and easy – surely causing awe
in lesser persons of which there are many, I surmise,
I wonder if there’s an award for any of this, knowing
there isn’t, but knowing there should be.
Those things I wish but never say,
the hopes for success and peace that
come and go away, the ways I once was
but somehow slipped away, the weight
of dreams too easily kept at bay,
all that and more haunt me as I lay
awake at the end of just another day
as I admit I’d like so much better
things to pray because maybe God
Draw your lines, make them bold, cry out loud,
so I’m told, that’s a hill, not far away, you’d die on,
so let’s pray, this is too much, too much to bear,
if this doesn’t stop, life won’t seem fair.
Red, green and blue – is all I need to see
every color in my world, my mind does the rest
while there’s no yellow or purple necessary
because it isn’t there… and it doesn’t matter,
but this makes me sad because I like purple.
Maybe it’s just me, but this habit of
saving-up tasks for Saturday has robbed
me of everything good about the day
from my childhood. That could change
and I’d be happy (so I’ll add that to the list).