A Good Day Poem by Lora Colon
A Good Day
It's a good day when I don't cry,
Recalling kisses sweet as wine,
But I can't recall, though I try,
When a tear-filled day wasn't mine
It's a good day when I can smile
At least once since he went away,
Choking back my tears all the while,
Yes, that's a very good day
It's a good day when I can sing,
Though I have no desire for song,
Like the bee that's ready to sting
But no reason ever comes along
It's a good day when I'm alone,
It means I won't have to explain
Why my heart's as heavy as stone,
As if wrapped in a weighted chain
It's a good day..... daybreak once more
And my pillow's not wet with tears,
(Those are the nights I pace the floor,
Praying for comfort 'til dawn appears)
It's a good day when day is done,
I slumber with my memories,
Senses fall asleep, one by one,
How I welcome hours such as these!
stanza #6 seems to negate stanza #5! or is it the other way around? ? am i imagining it? don't people like (see below) Mononton just kill ya! ? - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - What's A Good Day For Bri? It's a good day, though YOU might cry, when MY belly's full of pumpkin pie. And donuts may cause an early demise, but they never fail to brighten my eyes. For chocolate cake I will walk a mile, better yet....., with a dollop of cream. And a candle atop brings me a smile, and of presents-past I shall dream.**** It's a good day when fudge is on sale; it happens one day a month, at the shop. Yes, it's a very good day, without fail.... when at the candy counter I do then stop. It's a good day when to work I bring... a caramel bun to have with my tea. Tea (sugar and milk) makes me sing... while me secretary sits on my knee. With crackers and cheese by my phone... I breeze through my day, making money. At night I feel secure, though I live alone, because I can always fix toast with honey. In my dreams I live in Willy Wonka's factory, surrounded with candy; it's.....ALL for ME! And in the morning when, I finally awake...., I enjoy my breakfast of ham and cheesecake. Some think I need to go on a slimming diet, but I enjoy my sugary treats too much to try it. And fatty foods too. Why poach it? Just fry it! If you now think I'm crazy, just you.....be quiet! (Sept.10, 2016) **** [Happy Birthday to any September babies reading this poem.]
No, stanzas 5 and 6 do not negate each other. Each stanza stands (stanz? ?) on its own. Thank you for asking. Soon, I fear, your brain will turn to cake, Because of your weight, the ground will quake, So lay off the sweets, for goodness sake! Or soon you'll be a syrupy ember, Yet, it was sweet of you to remember All the babies born in September
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4/24/2024 8:03:32 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Priceless exchange below. And above, well, another wonderfully intimate glimpse into the darker corners of this tapestry we weave with our days and hours, our joys and our sufferings. Indeed, the insanity- the moment by moment self-contradictions of a broken heart- are they not the sin qua non of this condition?