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When I sat at my laptop one day, I heard my windows flip out. They weren’t happy with their salary.
  “Ours is too high! Give us less!”
  “Yeah, you’re spoiling us!”

I went on with my everyday tasks, however, I told myself:
  “Wait, why would I give them a salary, even?”

So I stopped paying them for at least 6 hours.

The next day, they were cloudy.

I said:
  “Where’s the sunlight?”

They responded:
  “Our salary is too low! Give more!”

I was, to be fair, extremely confused, yet it made sense. I opened a window halfway, and they groaned. I sprayed them with glass cleaner, and they wept.

I said:
  “Why do you always complain?”

The windows finally opened themselves, slowly, and said something that opened my eyes:
 “Because labor with no meaning is torture.”

Lazy *******.
A poem abour laziness.
Hardship = Resent
Resent = Dedication To Change
Dedication = Hard Work,
Hard Work = Change
Change = Prosperity
Prosperity = Abundance
Abundance = Entitlement
Entitlement = Laziness
Laziness = Procrastination
Procrastination = Back Tracking
Back Tracking = Hardship
Hardship = Reform
Reform = Hard Workers

Repeat Cycle Again
We are on our way to back tracking.
Emery Feine Oct 2024
When a project has been abandoned, creators of said project will solve small, irrelevant problems, so as to give themselves an ounce of satisfaction, rather than just solve the problem as a whole.
Mentitus sum. Puer eram. Non putabatur ibi esse.
Emery Feine Oct 2024
The way others view me,
Their theories are all incorrect,
But I don't know how to crack my own egg shell,
Show them what my soul shows me.
My heart and mind do not line up.
I yearn for things that did me wrong.
Laziness floods my habits and goals,
Until I drown in unsuccess.
I return to the places of my past
And to their people when I feel aloof.
It's weird to think that my friends barely know me,
And the butcher knows me best.
this is my 126th poem, written on 10/11/24.
David Plantinga Jun 2024
I always wanted to procrastinate,
But put if off and now it’s too late.
So if you want to laze
Don’t put up with delays.  
Today’s the day to vegetate.
Anais Vionet Jun 2023
An occasional gust of wind will lift the translucent white voile curtains and then drop them like a child losing interest. The effect is like flash photography, a burst of sudden sunlight that paints our irises, then quickly fades.

It’s a cool Paris morning. In the low 50s. The windows are open and we forgot to turn on the heat. It’s perfect ‘under the covers’ weather. We’ve succumbed to laziness, refusing to get out of bed. Lazing-in is new enough to us that we’re defining it with a gamut of synonyms.

“Listlessness, torpor,” Peter says, his index finger tracking the slow twirl of the ceiling fan.  
“Stupor, slumberous, supineness, ” I updog.
“Ooh! total submissiveness,” Peter said, drawing the last word out like it’s *****.
“Every man’s dream,” I confirm.
“Inertia,” he says, triumphant in finding an engineering word.
“Good one,” I compliment. “Lifeless, loafing laggard,” I add.

There’s a knock at the door.
We look at each other guiltily, like we’ve been caught.
“We ordered breakfast last night,” Peter remembers.
“Oh, yeah,” I said, “you get it,” I suggested.
“Why me?” he whined.
“Because you can wear less and because what if it’s an ax murderer?”
“These people work for your grandmother, she employs ax murderers?”
“It could be a revolution - this is France - it happens.”

There’s another knock.
“Get it!,” I bleated, like a helpless goat.
“Am I expendable?” he asked, as a man might plead to a lynch mob.
“Women and children first,” I remind him.

There’s a third knock.
“Ok,” he says resignedly, as he rises, draws on shorts and heads for the door.
“You’re my hero,” I assure him, before I pull the sheet up over my head in case it IS an ax murderer.
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Gamut: “a series of related things.”
Katie Jan 2022
I've had twelve whole hours
I could pen a masterpiece
This haiku will do
15
Tshepo mashiane Aug 2021
Convenience is the killer of willpower.
WJ Thompson Jan 2021
I’ll mimic Matterhorn or the worn ways we window gaze and swipe left
or turn right on the green light of another cliche
If you swear gray is all the shades you’ll
put on lamps to match the grayscale duvet
Then catch me if you cat o’ nine tails
a swallowed whale,
We swear with chapped lips a waterworn promise
Maybe the Amish had it right and we’re a little bit snobbish.
I’ll Jack O’Lantern your etch-a-sketch erotica,
Not much scarier, these days, trick or treat.
Q-tips got your tongue? I’ll Question where you Came From 4 as long i Chan.
You don’t leave the house anymore except for groceries.
Catch me if you cat o’ nine tails
a swallowed whale,
Nineveh won’t wait, it’s time to break bread with danger and death.
I feel a bit obligated to explain the general aim of this poem seeing as how most of the phrases seem nonsensical (and to be honest I didn’t ascribe meaning to them until after I had written them). This started as a flow of consciousness poem, where I was really just playing a word association game with my subconscious. I was inspired (positively) by a poet on HP who has a similar abstract flow to his poems. I wanted to write something unique, out of the ordinary, and in doing so I connected with a combative energy towards laziness and cliche. I should point out that I know cliches exist for a reason, in that they capture common thoughts, feelings, or wisdom in a succinct way, and there is a certain bravery in clearly stating your feelings for all to see. I just get a bit bored by it, it’s not intellectually stimulating. On the flip side, if you hide your feelings behind too many levels of abstraction, it’s possible that neither you nor anyone else will understand what it is you’re saying.

I also have a personal annoyance with poems which are thinly veiled erotica. It’s probably a bit petty, but I’ve seen so many ****** poems on HP. The “etch-a-sketch erotica” line was about that. My exact criticism is levied at erotica which leans towards the dark, grotesque. I have genuinely seen some clever erotica poems, but I generally avoid reading such material for religious reasons.

There’s a final annoyance, other then laziness and cliche, which is political in nature. I wonder if anyone sees it?

Lastly, I haven’t thought of a meaning for “mimic Matterhorn”. I just think it sounds cool.
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