It all happened when my husband grounded my son,
As punishment he disconnected the WIFI for a month,
Oops!I got pregnant.
My pregnancy made me super lazy,
I even got an award,
I sent my husband to collect it.
As my pregnancy proceeded,
My house became a clutter,
My husband called his mum to help,
Now, it is an army barrack,
Everything runs on schedule.
Being pregnant,I don't like watching T.V,
So I read an encyclopedia everyday,
My husband has put his set for sale,
His excuse,"You know everything."
I always look on the bright side of life,
Though I am with a fourth child,
I am very happy,
My husband has not as yet become a philosopher,
That means I am still a good wife.

Mess in my room and mess in my mind
Lately I've been obsessed with making these islands out of clothes on the ground
If the room is ***** that's how you know I've been depressed
and that's how I've been feeling for a long time to be honest

So please don't judge me I'm not lazy
The thoughts that I have are just making me crazy
and I am sorry I can't deal with my **** right now
I wish I could but I don't know how

He said I was so beautiful
I said beautiful was an incredibly lazy, unappealing and shallow way to describe the soul that inhabits my body

That soul is full of yearning for tomorrow
She is constantly hunting for the next adventure and looking for it in places nobody else looks
Her mind is full of words and lyrics and melodies
Her heart is so overflowing with love and compassion and kindness for even the smallest of creatures
She can smile in a corner to herself thinking of jokes from weeks ago, and that smile still lights up a room
She sometimes laughs out loud at her own hilarity and everyone in the room is caught up in the contagion that is her giggle
Her whole demeanor rests on the sole fact that she wakes up and does better than she did yesterday

So sure, beauty is a sweet word
But beautiful sure is a lousy way to capture my soul's presence.

Who’s There …by Jessie 6/06

I hear a knock, knock, knocking at my door
But I don’t get up to look
I’m not too busy
I’m board in fact
I think it was the effort that it took
Complacent in my contemplation, of why the waters wet
Is what kept my **** tightly sealed to the chair where I now sit
There’s that knock, knock, knocking once again
Will you please just go away!!
I’m quite content doing nothing and here is where I’ll stay
No sooner than I yell these words
The knocking started up
Frustrated to the point of mad
I got off my lazy ****
Made a b-line to the door; anger on my face
Opened it up, looking out, a note the only trace
I opened the note, it read like this…
Hi, I knocked three times, no one answered
It was you I came to see…
No big deal, it was only me…OPPORTUNITY!

I can’t get out of bed
I can’t swing my legs over the edge
And place my feet on the ground
My mom says it’s because I’m lazy
But little does she know

I hate going to school
I hate walking into the building
I hate walking the hallways
I hate getting up to go to the bathroom
My teachers say it’s because I’m lazy
But little do they know

I won’t do my homework
I won’t try to focus on a sheet of paper
I won’t try to type of a three-page essay
I won’t spend hours trying to figure out what they’re asking of me
My friends say it’s because I’m lazy
But little do they know

You make me wanna come home
After a long day, when my soul wants to roam.

You remind of lazy summer mornings
Curled up on the couch watching tv and adoring.
The way the yellow light seems to curl and seep through the blinds
While sweet fantasies entrance my mind.

Sprawled out
With no worries, no doubts.

You remind me of Chai tea.

You're warm, and sweet, and you make me want to curl up with you on a rainy day, tangled in bedsheets and watching the rain pitter patter on the window, in my pajamas and my hair piled up atop my head, listening to soft music that speak of lazy love and croon of kisses.

You make me think of tan sweaters and unrecognizable spices, alluding to all the mystery I don't know and want to know, devouring you like I would a good book on a crisp autumn day. You make me want to take a road trip to a forest where the fog comes meandering in, and I sit in the backseat, talking about life-to me, to you, or my non-metaphorical, quite literal, tea.

You make me want to slow down, and sit in a coffee shop and work on a book, or admire the chipped mug that you came in.

You remind me of Chai tea, and all that we could be.

to be assured
of a roof above
my head,

and a mother
who will cook
for me lovingly,

nothing is so
damning as
absolute safety,

I am the human
cat this fading
winter, wait

and I may soon
grow whiskers,
the days fling

away like speeding
scenery from a
train window,

I sing my
death song,
tomorrow,

tomorrow...