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Part Time Poet Dec 2015
5 o'clock, I should start my homework
Haha that's a funny one
I'll just go on Facebook instead

6 o'clock, Time to eat dinner
This shouldn't take too long
I can start my work after

7 o'clock, Okay I'm done eating
I should really get my homework started
Goes on Twitter for an hour

8 o'clock, Oh **** it's 8:00 already?
I'm serious I'll start my homework now
Oh look someone texted me

9 o'clock, How the **** did an hour go by already?
That was like ten minutes max
Oh well, I wonder what's new on YouTube?

11 o'clock, Did I really just spend two hours watching videos on YouTube?
Wow I have a problem
I wonder what's happened on Facebook since I left?

12 o'clock, Oh **** it's a new day
I have school in eight hours and my homework isn't started
Well I'm not going to get any sleep so I might as well just stay up later

1 o'clock, Wow I'm so tired
Homework is stupid
Why do teachers give homework?
Whoever invented homework is dead to me

2 o'clock, Haha I'm still going
Tomorrow is about to be rough
But now that "tomorrow" is today
I have to last a full day on no sleep
Wait I still have to start my ******* homework

3 o'clock, Finally started my homework
Too tired to process anything
This homework is gonna take forever cause I'm exhausted out of my ******* mind

4 o'clock, School starts in four hours
What the **** am I doing?
Why did I have to procrastinate?
Why do I do this to myself?
I have a major problem

5 o'clock, Finished my homework
Have to wake up in an hour
Oh well, an hour is better than none
I'm never procrastinating again!
*Cycle repeats tomorrow
I go through this struggle night after night after night
Adam Childs  Aug 2014
LION
Adam Childs Aug 2014
As the glorious LION
Stands strong in stature
Radiating with a presence
Of Absolute rule
The air washed with
A bristly respect
A natural pride
Beams with  beauty
He guards the gateway to truth
and only the brave may enter
He is the king that needs no crown
as he holds a royal presence as he
sits in his golden coat and main
Lies spark combust just bounce off
dissolve in all his shine.  

As broken men become renewed
Their fractured parts
Collect in the melting ***
Of the Lion's  stare
As they are engulfed and swallowed
In the reservoirs of his strength
As the many wounded souls
Find themselves restored
In his majestic presence
As he rattles the very fabric
Of this world

There is no procrastinating belly
Exposed by a lackluster display
No one insults his strength
By creating a make believe world
Or covers him with scaffolding so
That they may alter him
For he is the finished article
And he is never held up or supported
With anyone's emotional ropes or strings
For he no ones puppet
He is never silenced
By the Strangle hold of this world
Tightened with a multitude of gestures
For I hear his ROAR!!!!!!!!
His explosive self expression
As his throat bursts and beams like the sun
Breaking all collars, and his tongue is freed
As a thousand trap doors Open up in him  
And boulders are lifted and rocks are shattered
within the sound of his voice.
His Soft pads of silent stealth
Gather for all his wealth
As the power of his pounce
Is governed by both his strength
Of spirit and the honesty
With which he meets the earth
For he owns all of his own pain
And paces and growls to warn
Away any who seek to steal his fresh ****
And diminish him with pretty lies
For he owns all his space
As it feeds his strength
As somewhere in the fury of feasting
Lionesses and Lions  
We find our freedom
For his power explodes like a volcano
When his soul meets the earth  
As he shakes off all avoidance
To seek only truth
As streaks of white light
And pure Gold glisten in the SUN
As the world's projections
Reflect and bounce off him

There is so much to learn
From a beautiful LION
just decided to take my two poems about a LION and remove all the dead wood and see what I came up with . not sure but I love some of the lines individually
Lee Banks  Aug 2014
Worthless
Lee Banks Aug 2014
I remember when I wanted to be
Anything and everything somehow
Now I’m starting to think:
Was that jus childhood or I am different now?

I haven’t achieved anything yet
I’m ordinary and average
I’m no one you’d remember
The world is not my stage.
 
Still, why do I feel I don’t need any help:
When it’s obvious that I do?
All those people giving me advice,
Why can’t I just listen to you?

Why does it take so long for your words
to sink into my brain?
Why can’t I see how much I lose
And how little I gain?

Why did I make myself this way?
Why can’t I make myself change?
Why can’t I just do it?
Why am I so strange? 

Why are there so many “why?” s in this?
I need to stop making excuses
Stop procrastinating and delaying
I should just get down to it.

There are things I need to do
I need to learn how to talk
I need to start listening now
I need to crawl before I walk

Today, I feel like I’m worthless
Tomorrow I’ll feel fine
I need whatever I’m feeling now
To stay inside this brain of mine.

I’m too young to be worthless
Too young to keep on crying
Too  young to even feel this way
Too young to stop trying

I just need to find the will again;
The will to do something great
Find it, Keep it and never let it go.
“I am the master of my fate” (Invictus, William Henley, 1888)
Paul M Chafer Apr 2015
Even at my age,
I see mountainous lands in the sky,
Languishing among towering clouds,
A lofty empire, lost kingdoms,
Perhaps a strange magical realm,
Thriving with dwarves and giants,
Maidens in towers awaiting rescue,
Where lone horse warriors wander,
Maybe observing us, far below.

Must be a poetic creative thing,
Or simply the child deep within,
Viewing through the eyes of the man,
Dreaming ancient days of long ago,
When the child yearned to be grown,
To know all there is to know,
Never appreciating escapism,
The chance to drift within time,
Ponder upon distant, aerial, worlds.

Or maybe I’m just a dreamer,
That and nothing more, hmm,
Telling myself, I am a poet,
A procrastinating creative spirit,
In love with the trappings of art,
The child asleep within wisdom,
Languishing among towering clouds,
I see mountainous lands in the sky,
Even at my age.

©Paul M Chafer 2015
Inspired by the poem ‘A Procession Of Days’ and dedicated to fellow visionary, friend and poet, W L Winter.
Diane Aug 2013
i.
Jimi was procrastinating in the bedroom with Lizi; his performance anxiety had become unbearable.
He could tell she was trying to “******” him tonight. She didn’t wear a bra under her ratty t-shirt and
snuggled up against him when she climbed into bed, this was his queue to come after her. Hmmm,
does she think he’s so simple? At least Pavlov’s dog had the respect of his owner. So he lay on his stomach,
pretending he was asleep like he had done so many times before. After what seemed like an eternity, Lizi
sighed with disappointment and rolled over.  When Jimi dared open his eyes he glanced at the clock,  
2:17 am. His stomach felt hard as he choked back tears, there has to be more to life than this…
when could he stop pretending?

ii.
“Shhh it’s ok. You don’t need to talk about it.” He said, pressing her head against his chest.
That angered her. She did need to talk about it, and he was treating her like a child. She glanced
at the clock, he had already overstayed his available time.
“You need to go. It’s past 3.”
He sighed, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry.”
“No problem. Can’t keep the wife waiting.”
“Please don’t be mad.”
“Hey, it’s my own ****** fault for getting involved with you.”
Jimi didn’t say anything. He never did when things got uncomfortable. Instead, he reached for
his coat and put on his shoes. “I’ll call you tomorrow morning, ok?”
Mango sat silently, staring out the window. No you won’t, she thought, and you’ll get busy
and forget to even ask me, because you don’t ******* really care.
He walked over and kissed her softly. “Bye honey.”
“Bye” she answered, not returning the kiss, or looking at his face. How could he bring up
this ****, and then leave her alone with all of her emotions?

iii.
There was really only one friend from college that Jimi trusted enough to talk about anything
of substance. But even so, he didn’t dare talk about Mango. He’d been telling her that he was
going to move out, but no one in his life knew there were even problems in the marriage. Lizi
didn’t know there were problems in the marriage. This was much bigger and more complicated
than he had imagined, and how long could Mango hold on?  He didn’t mean to **** her around,
but she cried more than she laughed these days….he really missed her laugh. When he and
Mango were together, his feelings for her were powerful, literally full of power. He had fallen in love with
her, more than he had ever loved anyone, or even knew he was capable of loving anyone. But the
pathway to her was terrifying and treacherous, and once on that path, there was no turning back.

iv.
“At this point music doesn’t comfort, poetry doesn’t comfort, my work does not comfort and you
do not comfort.  I don’t remember the last time I felt so empty and out of control of my life.”
The other end of the phone remained silent, every passing second bunching the muscles in her
back and neck as if her whole self was shriveling into a contorted form of a human being. “Jimi,
just face it—you lost me. You thought I’d be a cure for your boredom and dissatisfaction, but
you didn’t expect to fall in love with me. Okay, you love me. So what? So ******* what? You
aren’t going to leave your wife and I’m tired of being treated like your concubine.”
“Don’t give up, please don’t give up. Don’t you love me anymore?”
“Right now, I hate you. If I leave now, maybe the hate will fade and we can be some sort of friends.”
Nothing was heard but the faint sound of breathing for the next ten minutes.
“You know what Jimi? **** this whole **** game that you think is love and ******* too.”
and she hung up.

v.
“I know who you are.”
“Excuse me?”
“You are the woman who has been having an affair with my husband.”
Mango looked up from her register. Large round hazel eyes bore through her, burning with anger
and refusing to cry. An enormous scarlet letter “A” seemed to be melting into her skin. They stood
there, sizing each other up, Mango could feel her lip begin to quiver.
“I can see why he wanted you, you look nothing like me.”
Side by side it was true. One woman refined, statuesque, well bred. The other thrift store coordinated,
pierced lip and pigtails.
Mango tried to think of what to say “I’m sorry. It’s over, I ended it over a year ago.” was all she
could come up with. How do you say I’m sorry for intruding on the bond between a husband and wife?
How do you say I’m sorry for something that can never be undone and has forever seared pain
onto the heart of another woman?
They stared at each other for a full minute, neither willing to break the gaze. Finally, Lizi sighed and
began to walk away.
“Lizi…” She turned back to look at Mango one last time, “He didn’t make me happy either.”
Procrastination?
What is that I've never heard of such a thing.
But maybe because I'm to busy procrastinating to hear it,
I am mike,
I am not a poet, a leader, a storyteller, or an academic,
I am a dreamer, a gamer, a man of many things,
I would rather let life pass me by and sit in my game,
Than to deal with the drama of reality.
It is not that I don't like reality,
It is that reality is too busy,
With school and work
Facebook and friends
Learning and imagining
Are they even one in the same
I love my games because it allows my mind to run wild
From building empires in Minecraft to taming creatures in Pokemon
Games are a way I can re envision my world
They allow kids to show their creative side something education removed long ago.
So I stand before you asking,
What is procrastination,
I'd rather play my game and imagine.
My life seems to pass by but in my one life span I have lived dozens of others.
Adia Heart Sep 2014
Even empty air
seems interesting
when you've got stuff to do.
I just stare
at the ceiling,
but oh, what a view.
The Whisper May 2013
****, I'm really high.
Why did I bother getting ******?

****... I'm REALLY high...
The end of senior year is close!

****. Why did I get high?
**** held me back for a year...
Of sitting, and staring, and staring, and sitting,
And laughing my *** to tears.

The *** became a small escape.
Like Superman without his cape.
Or a homeless guy with a 40 oz drink.
****, what am I saying?!

****! I'm high.
There's work to do?
But **** that ****.
I'll chill for a bit.

And it's back to work for who?

Hopefully, my high ***.
So basically this is a little comedic narrative I wrote high off my *** when I had homework to do and I was too lazy to do any of it. Just imagine a guy, high out of his mind, telling himself these things word for word. I think it's pretty funny.
Adam Childs Mar 2014
Hear the LION'S ROAR
As the many indignant souls
Find themselves restored
In his majestic presence
As he rattles the very fabric
Of this world as many
Broken men become renewed
Their fractured parts
Collect in the melting ***
Of the Lions stare
So let us all dare
To live life like a Lion

Lounging in the sun
Owning and surveying
His beautiful life
Storing great forces
Reservoirs of strength
To pounce and punch
Soft pads of silent stealth
Gather for all his wealth
His appetite strong
He honors every parts of self

But there is no where
To hide in the cats eye stare
As my many fumbling phoney selves
Dissolve in his melting glare
As I am shamed by a look
As I approach life like a crook
My procrastinating belly exposed
In my lack luster display
As I breath a contempt
For my precious life

Standing strong in stature
And rich in golden shine
Radiating with a presence
Of Absolute rule
The air washed with
A bristly respect
A natural pride
Beams with a beauty
Freed from all that is false
His being effortlessly
Embraces the fields
Of his own nature

As I am silenced by
The strangle hold of this
Bitter dysfunctional world
Tightened by a
Multitude of silent gestures
I sit to listen
To the LION'S ROAR
I feel my throat burst
My gagged tongue freed
My choked throat
Beams like the sun
As I softly delve
In to the LION'S ROAR
An open infinity
Cuts my many collars
Releasing my self expression
As a thousand trap doors
Open in me

Learning from the loving LION
Our self expression freed
And our appetite renewed
We live a new adventure
Death-throws  May 2015
Glass ass.
Death-throws May 2015
doth hate yourself ***,
for an *** with mind is still an ***
flaunting about the property of knowlege,
like every little gasp, saves you from laughing stock
***

doth Bring yourself justification
for beeing such an ***'
and though you seem a *****,
my lady your still a lass


So bring to me the right kind,
of liquid, intoxicating
and sit back and smile, as i lie here,
procrastinating
Ayeshah Mar 2010
procrastinating is my hobby,
ask
someone if you don't believe me ,
baby i lay around  
as i please
&
work at my own leisure,
incredibly you fail
to understand i am me

and

i love more then like the way that i am-  gorgeous courageous
coco golden skin,  

painfully
i know you feel the threat of  

my  momentous  appeal  
keeps  
you you & yeah you --  mystified.

guaranteed  your days are filled
with shock and frustration,

haa haa hee

how very exciting to me seeing your not as experienced as  I,

unlicensed  to tame what i'd never give
freely,

repetitiously you've played the game,
failure must be a sweet pill sallowed whole huh?  

adequately i compel my strengths --  my naivety makes
my appeal that more interesting,

call me uniquely imperfections
rarely made in to what  many can never comprehend,

my life is my dialogue to my very own daily soap opera

la di da da--  it's more then my  sultry walk
as i pass you on bye.

in this corrupted jungle
you have to win or be inhibited by  
what others  may call taboos,

whew  weee your so serious,

chasing prey only to tease--  lingering doubts?
catch me--  i bet you can't.

innocently the line's been crossed

yet
speak not of what should be!

only--  this--

is what you'll know ; procrastinating is my hobby!
I Am The Lioness!

(some may be lost on what i wrote&say; but ok lol)

Always Me Ayeshah
Copyright ©
Ayeshah K.C.L.N 1977-Present YEAR(s)
All right reserved
Now since I advised you this Sentiment
Try to apply your Fares with her Mother
And if you win, which is one Compliment
That you use to connect with her Brother
This is just some Counsel from Ben Nevis' View
Hassled to ensure you did the Right Thing
For justly understand this ardent Crew
Is no excuse for Procrastinating
In private this Agent is unaware
For him to barrage out of Deep Respect
Yet keep watch for Feathers dancing in the Air
They turn to Anvils; And hit your Retrospect.
Listen you Two. This is why you will Learn
That Family's knots tied is Best you earn.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994

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