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A Day Without Poetry or It Was Monday

by Sandy M. Humphrey

Yesterday did not dawn poetic
For the morning was hurried
And traffic crawled intensely
Ropelike in the mist of Monday
Construction taught and tenuous
As if on a conveyor of some
Mass manufacturer each car
Exiting at its own point of processing

Muscles achy from the drive
Unfolding stiffly into the gray
Parking lot and weaving
Through the checker board of
Cars parked close like sardines
Stretching into a height I used to be
Trying to gain composure and a sense
Of confidence before entering into the
Fray of a workweek beginning

Smile in place and a toss toss
And the long locks of L’Oreal 5rb
Fall into place nicely before the
Elevator doors open into the cubicle
World that claims the hours and pays bills
Game face greets friendly allies warmly
While steering clear of accidental adversaries

Yet even if the plan is good it doesn’t mean
It will work for there are flaws
Kinks if you will in the system
Stay in your own space at your own job
And others will have a way of stepping
Into your realm or even crashing your
Invisible walls with micro managed
Power tripping control arms that
Squeeze all the poetry out of a job
Well done

Yesterday dawned without poetry
But then today is another day
And poetry has a way of breaking
Through even in an artistic drought


Author's Note: "On Monday mornings I am dedicated to the proposition that all men are created jerks." H. Allen Smith Maybe not all men but some of them work with me, and it can ruin a good morning. smh

Posted on 02/03/2009
Copyright © 2020 Sandy M. Humphrey

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 02/03/09 at 11:36 PM

smh, poetry clearly and cleanly broke through the Mondaynity of it all for you.

s m i l e !

Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 02/03/09 at 11:39 PM

"While steering clear of accidental adversaries" ~ oh how I love this ~ I can feel my sidesteps and shoulder-scrunches and peripheral look-outs as we speak. (so-to-speak!)

Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 02/04/09 at 07:35 PM

Yes, I see what you mean. Excellent recounting of an experience!

Posted by Ken Harnisch on 02/06/09 at 01:34 PM

hmmm....Remembering my cubicle days less than fondly and this paints a perfectly un-nostalgic picture of them Sandy. Great poem, not so great memories

Posted by Charles E Minshall on 02/07/09 at 11:23 PM

Jerks have quirks which can spoil the works wherever one lurks. Good one Sandy...CharMin

Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 02/08/09 at 07:51 PM

Sandy, you leave no doubt, Mondays are the potholes in the road of life. Great write. Delighted. Thanks.

Posted by Mara Meade on 02/09/09 at 04:30 AM

And how you made poetry of it!

Posted by A. Paige White on 02/09/09 at 11:37 AM

I'm not a fan of Mondays either but your poetry breaking out of it in spite of the jerks on a rough road makes mine seem a bit smoother. Much appreciated.

Posted by Maria Massarella on 02/11/09 at 01:15 PM

Well,well, this has steered its way from the monday traffic into the impeccable realms of wednesdays POTD. Congratulations,Sandy!...*m.a

Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 02/11/09 at 05:21 PM

And poetry has a way of breaking
Through even in an artistic drought


Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 02/11/09 at 05:39 PM

Congrats on POTD!

Posted by Quinlan L Gibson on 02/11/09 at 07:26 PM

Congratulations! Very worthy POTD! I love how this all ran together and was full of irony.

Posted by Kerowyn Rose on 02/12/09 at 03:20 AM

UGH This is my entire day after week day described to a T. It is the poem I've been working on in my head, but found to difficult to write. You said it just right! Congrats on POTD!

Posted by Johnny Crimson on 02/12/09 at 02:48 PM

what's so..I dk

Posted by Charlie Morgan on 02/12/09 at 09:17 PM

...heaveeeeee. a punch to the toto mundo de orb![whole world] touche, touche!

Posted by Joan Serratelli on 02/13/09 at 10:26 PM

I think everyone can relate to this piece. Well done!

Posted by Laura Doom on 03/22/09 at 12:06 PM

Perhaps all people are created jerks -- it's just that men revel in the exposition thereof :) Worthy of promotion, this post of resignation.

Posted by Phil P Robson on 11/04/09 at 10:02 PM

Another wonderful poem which I find very easy to relate to, what a world we live in!

Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 03/26/10 at 02:23 PM

I know this feeling. I think it is common to poets. Too bad poets had not a poetry factory to go work for, whose owner was a poet him or herself and we were allowed to whistle while we worked on poems such as this. simply wunderbar.

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