Each Day Each day a separate life, Each day a cut with a knife, Each day a different scene, Each day a time in a dream. Today I am a wealthy chef, Tomorrow I am caught up with death, The next day I am sailing at sea, The next I am waiting to be free. Each day a separate life, Each day a partitioned strife, Each day a walk in the wild, Each day a lesson for a child. Today I am a businessman, Tomorrow I am a carver of ham, The next day I am flying in the air, The next I am cleaning the stairs. Each day a separate life, Each day a lonely spun wife, Each day a run up the hill, Each day a sugary pill. Today I am working on the lathe, Tomorrow I am ready to bathe, The next I am younger and bold, The next day I am thinner and old. 26th April 2022


each day a life each --

day a different scene each

today I am chef

By Mark Anthony

I wrote this poem after realising that we could view life as a set of frames, a complete collector set of “Each Day” slices.

Imagine a different scene every day but getting better and better each day.

Then think about “Groundhog Day” – the fact that everything is the same.

The days are stale but safe – somewhere to hide and avoid change.

The fact that every day you do the same things expecting different results.

That on some days pure random chance would present an opportunity, and on some days. nothing would happen.

That is until you grasp the fact that we may have a limited number of scenes.

And that we should push on to identify our dearest hopes and dreams to drive them into existence.

How do you think you can get better? or worse?

Can new things become the object of your passions to rekindle a long lost fire?