I wish I could have stayed in bed all day today,
Writing poems about entertwining fingers and tangled legs;
About lips that never moisten themselves; About tickles that, abruptly, turn into
caresses and lingering touches.
I would have written about cuddles and tight ******* embraces that didnt require that "thing" they like to do most;
About kisses that make you yearn for nothing less than a lifetime supply of Them.
I, simply, wish I'd have just stayed in my room
In my bed and
Penned all morning about the complex simplicities of coexisting with Desire.
I'd have written about how Competition was welcomed with unfurled arms, kissed and un-coated at the door.
I'd have written about how it was welcomed as a third party to the bed;
how we would vye for its approval and battle for 1st place as Best Giver of Love.

..But, instead, I'll just write a poem about the poem id have written had I just stayed in bed today.

5 feet away, nomnom
5 minutes past 7 o'clock
It's been five hours now since nomnom

high on herbs
Seeing the tasty food
But deep in lazy

Munchies and whispering voices
******, so much a lazy slob

Ease your way
Into Sunday,
Monday’s here soon enough.
Friday’s best,
Time to rest,
The week was tough.

Boozeday Tuesday is okay
I must say
And Table Tennis Thursday ain’t bad too.
Wednesday’s fish and chips are yummy –
They fill my tummy,
Washed down with a brew.

I love Saturday sport,
Who would have thought
I’d get set in my ways?
Such is my week,
Hardly unique,
But on Sunday I laze.

Paul Butters

It's funny that I can sit here and say
that my life is something, when I was lazy today.
I stayed inside, watched a movie or two
Cried my eyes out, feeling rather blue.
But after it was over, reality came back
and I realized that I... hadn't done jack.
Sure, I had felt, I had feared, I had wished,
I had procrastinated, and stuck up my fist.
In today's world, however, what does it mean
if you're not an athlete or mathlete; you're just unseen
Unseen because you have blocked yourself completely out
from the world, from danger, from the coming drought
of people who  actually cared about others
and not just their next Friday night lovers.
Can I call myself accomplished at  high
when all I've done is weasel my way by?
Using the bare minimum of my brain power.
Waisting little energy staying up for hours.
I've been lazy.
I AM lazy.
But should that validate anything I've done?
Should I waste away a life that's only just begun?
Or should I stop being lazy, here and today,
turn off the device, take a look around at... May?
That's the month, isn't it so?
I can't remember, do you even know?
I have been stuck in a grave mindset
that blocks out every responsibility or threat;
but I think I should awake
and see the world for it's mistakes
yet still embrace it 's wit
and never ever never quit.
I'm lazy, yes, but I can make my life something.
Because after all, we all started as nothing.

People find it strange
that someone like me
who gets out of breath,
wheezing,
after two flights of stairs
considers the horse
to be her spirit animal.

Ironic though it may be,
isn't it natural
for the somatically lazy
to have a wild soul
that runs free?

The sun goes onward, rising higher.
Our bright beacon, the balloon of fire.
And little do these worldlings see,
Afternoon will go, the night is soon to be.