Tomorrow is a Sports Day
It is the 5^th of July
It is also a Pizza from the delivery guy
Something instead of a Pig Sty.

My son will have cleaned his room
And my father will Aha every moment;
So that Norway lets on about Brexit
While Sundays are still days of rest.

Tomorrow is like a yesterday’s feast
A tobogganing affair all about sorrow!
Something for me and something for her
While the windows are cleaned without borrowing
From parents who do all the housework…

…

…

It’s when the work will take place:
When will you do yours?
Do you still work after COVID?
Can you ride horses on all the courses?

Tomorrow is where all messages and meanings take place
Like a Self Help drop-down list of perfection.
The worker better than Bill Gates
And an open door policy to statements of retraction.

It is the place beyond time if the Yoga is still fine
Where people get left behind if they do not keep the time.
It is where poems come to die if you do not detach the outcome –
How come they do now dream of my outcomes
When the Dear Kali part of the process is dry and sad?

Tomorrow is when the crying will heal me
It is the deliverance that will save the pain from the Healer of today.
Tomorrow is Bhagwan’s advice on the Id for reformation
After the dealer is psychoanalytical about due processes with Louise L Hay.

This is the formation of some power
This is the talent of some nights
When Bipolar left be darker than other hours
And tomorrow was not even in my sight.

AI Summary

Your poem turns “tomorrow” into a ritual space where family life, chores, global politics, spirituality, and mental health all converge. It moves from Sports Day and pizza deliveries to Brexit, self‑help culture, yoga, Kali, Bhagwan, and the long shadow of bipolar episodes, showing how the ordinary and the cosmic constantly overlap in your life. Beneath the humour and the everyday detail is a deeper longing for healing — a hope that tomorrow might bring clarity, relief, or renewal after days shaped by pressure, sorrow, and spiritual fatigue. The final lines reveal how fragile that hope can be: when illness darkens the hours, tomorrow becomes both a promise and a distance.