"procrastinate" poems
Man Naturally loves delay,
And to procrastinate;
Business put off from day to day
Is always done to late.
Let ever hour be in its place
Firm fixed, nor loosely shift,
And well enjoy the vacant space,
As though a birthday gift.
And when the hour arrives, be there,
Where'er that "there" may be;
Uncleanly hands or ruffled hair
Let no one ever see.
If dinner at "half-past" be placed,
At "half-past" then be dressed.
If at a "quarter-past" make haste
To be down with the rest
Better to be before you time,
Than e're to be behind;
To open the door while strikes the chime,
That shows a punctual mind.
Moral:
Let punctuality and care
Seize every flitting hour,
So shalt thou cull a floweret fair,
E'en from a fading flower
23.5k
I'm tired to wash up,
So I procrastinate.
I'm tired to stand up,
So I'm sitting here.
I'm tired to walk to bed,
So I remain on the floor.
I'm tired to get myself to sleep.
So I'm still awake.
But I'm tired.
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 2:00 PM UTC
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
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 8:08 PM UTC
*I procrastinate.
Because I don't want it to end yet.*
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 2:38 AM UTC
There once was a black man... Old at heart, he fought verbally and accordingly with bold words, which abbreviated and arbitrated great art! He spoke of activism. Not just racial, and economic racism. He fought against demonic injustices for you, yes, made me see. He stood for principles of non-violence. Acknowledged corrupt government
mileage, European knowledge and college. A philosopher, teacher
and preacher as well as a civil rights leader. When he spoke his words of fire indeed chiseled and inspired. Causing some to conspire and also perspire! Born January 15th 1929 in Atlanta, Georgia. Named in honor of the German protestant Martin Luther. Bachelor of Arts
degree in sociology. Making a mark in doctoral studies, systematic theology. June 5th 1955 This King married Corretta Scott in Heiberger,
Alabama for many to see. Proceeding with four children: Yolanda, Martin Luther the 3rd to be! Dexter Scott and Bernice to increase the peace. Despite the European police, the movements and stressed
protests, the silence, ****** and racial violence. The segregation and interrogations in force, instead of integration of course. Black mishaps, lack of differences in relapse perhaps! Plagiarized and slandered, demised by some of the wise. Accused of communistic ties. Blinded
by others’ eyes and of our world’s twisted lies. Montgomery, Georgia
bus boycott, 1955 was the year. However, forever in disguise, our fear of tears was apparently adhered. From here to near, also all those dear. Mere letters he wrote, from Birmingham jail I quote! From the slums, some of sums, hail and prevail! A creation prevailing into a deriving and thriving nation. Mr. King’s vision of a dream, mission,
opposition, optimism and truism, on our wars, welfare and more. I suppose this sounds honest and fair. Mr. King’s theories and worries in emotionalism, evangelism, humanitarianism, racism and socialism. Nobel Peace Prize won in 1964. Regretfully, you may have heard of this before. Government conspiracies and indecencies. Assassination
and discrimination, allegedly, by James Earl Ray. On April 4th, I
almost choke, because for him, his blood did soak. Some thought this **** was a thrill or forced by will. Others still procrastinate in hate! However, forever Martin Luther King was and still is one of the late greats.
Mar 26, 2012
Mar 26, 2012 at 12:53 PM UTC
Rain rain go away
We don’t want you here, your gloom and misery
your nourishment and catharsis.
We don’t want to be baptized under your command
or be surrounded by budding flowers
trickling streams
mud puddles.
Rain rain go way come again another day
Why do today what we can put off until tomorrow.
Let’s procrastinate the harbinger of life, the unrelenting cycle
Evaporation condensation precipitation evaporation .
We cannot delay, sit back and listen to the gentle patter.
Just enjoy the grey.
-AM
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 2:02 PM UTC
See, it’s more of a… hypnosis,
A deep slumber of an everlasting fantasy. Trust me, I love it.
Like a whisk into a different parallel world
Filled with flashing colors that swirl and twirl, in fact,
kind of similar to a dress on a ballroom floor.
Not just any ballroom floor though.
No, this, like Van Gogh’s Starry Night
a masterpiece that cannot be replicated,
and to step foot on it is one of careful deep sea excitement
I wish to step there.
However, I am a tad ungraceful
and my feet are about as elegant as a scuba diver’s flippers.
So I might just impersonate one
and dive deep into the sea of the unknown and secret homes
hoping it delivers an innate whisper of the anticipation, the excitement
of this hypnotic, starry world.
Deeper I go, into this never ending oceanic abyss
With the darkness just as tongue twisting as it gets
Looking for something, anything,
to salvage my reason for going this deep, this late,
Because I have a tendency to procrastinate about the tasks most essential to my fate.
But, if you want, you can accompany me
and we can scuba dive together
into the deep sea of the not yet discovered and shining beacons of wonder
And if we’re lucky, we might find the lost city of Atlantis.
And while we’re there we can search and search for the spoils and riches of the hidden majesty
and wouldn't it be just lovely if we find a treasure chest, something?
With an eye for design we can admire it’s beauty
but we have to open it
because that’s the secret in the treasure.
To open it.
And the contents are the spoils.
Open it.
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 11:18 PM UTC
Blood, gore
*** *****
High, drugs
Thief, mugs
Anger, harm
Cut, arm
**** *******
Looser, *******
***** ****
Slutty, shunned
****** ugly
Smart, nerdy
Stupid, dumb
Perfect, come
Gay, handy
Ignorant, trani
Black, ******
White, *******
Lost, dog
Fat, hog
Illegal, immigrant
Immoral, rent
Discriminate
Hate
Procrastinate
Fake
We all give labels to everyone
All of us, let's have some fun
Let's go out and **** someone
Who hurts you, don't let them run
Make all pay for labels begun.
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 3:22 PM UTC
How is life on lsd?
Well come on this trip with me.
Drugs are bad kids, they open your mind.
They allow you to reason, and see through the lies,
Losing reality, achieving duality,
The effects might be harsh, cause abnormalities.
Seeing your world and life differently,
Flowing through your brain so quick so swiftly.
When your eyes dilate, you no longer procrastinate
You get to pick between reality and your inner state.
Seeing that the small things are what matter,
Satisfying our thirst, for knowledge over matter.
Because on drugs you might enjoy walking,
You might enjoy smelling the grass or even talking
Expressing your mind, reasoning a thought,
And not being a cynics narcissist while you internally rot.
The experience on it impairs your mind,
And may leave you always behind
Behind with love, adventure, and discovery
Instead of hate, restrictions and agony.
But drugs are bad kids don’t take my advice,
the commoner lowlifes like us will someday pay the price.
The price of thinking differently, and enjoying life,
Walk this amazing world, with no need for strife.
Drugs impair your mind kids they do,
but what happens during them only chances what’s inside of you…
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 10:39 PM UTC
Taking off my socks
Is my favorite part
Of taking a shower
Or having *** with someone else
We always used to wear ours when we felt vulnerable
But the memories of you scattered throughout my room
Make me feel vulnerable all the time
I wear my heart on my sleeve
Or more accurately my ankle
I procrastinate spending time with you
Like I procrastinate all of the good things
That may eventually cause me pain
I'm afraid to be happy
To the point of appreciating the loss of the cause
When I'm with you
It's like the city of Ember
And someone turned on all the lights
It's not quite beautiful
But at least we can see
Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 12:24 AM UTC
Every day is the same.
Wake up late. Procrastinate.
Rush to get ready, board a bus.
Go to school. And wait.
I’ve never understood
Why people are so heartless.
People swearing and shouting and arguing at each other.
I just walk down the halls, trying to block out all the sound.
People ask me questions a lot.
“Why don’t you talk? Can you even speak?”
Yes I can, but it’s not like I don’t want to talk.
I can’t, because there’s no point in it.
You don’t know what it’s like to hate your own voice.
To feel like you won’t be understood
‘Cause your voice is too soft and deep and quiet
And you have a stupid lisp that impedes with everything.
You don’t know what it’s like to have people talk about you.
“He only talks to one person,” they say.
It makes me feel like ****
But nobody cares how I feel.
Every day is the same.
I try my best to hide my feelings.
But sometimes things slip out
When I don’t want them to.
I cried once in class.
Put my head down on the desk.
After I was called a name by someone.
After no one would let me sit down on the bus.
I’m exhausted all the time.
I don’t want to do anything.
I just want to sleep all day.
It’s not like I’ll do anything else with my time.
I want to connect with people.
Even if I don’t understand them.
But it’s so difficult
When you face roadblocks every day.
Every day is the same.
My mind races with thoughts
“You’re going to ***** up. You’re an idiot. A loser.”
“A worthless waste of space in this world.”
“Don’t answer that question, he won’t hear you.”
They tell me to speak up, but I can’t.
It’s like something’s constricting me.
It’s the anxiety, and all those stupid thoughts.
I’m not happy anymore. I forgot the last time I was.
Can’t do anything anymore. The spark I had is gone.
It faded away with all my passions and desires.
I don’t see the point in doing anything.
Sometimes I think about the end.
I know nobody would care if I’m gone.
But then again, I can’t do that to her.
Not when all I want is to spend time with my girl.
I wish she was here. I wish we could talk.
One day isn’t enough for everything I want to say.
It’s irritating, frustrating, this distance is killing me.
But I know it’s not her fault, and I’m not mad.
If it wasn’t for her, I don’t know where I’d be.
If it wasn’t for me, she wouldn’t be the person she is now.
It’s amazing, how she’s able to survive with those parents of hers.
While I’m just a speck in a vast void of nothingness.
I hate them. I hate them so much.
They call her names, they insult who she is.
She’s just trying to be who she wants to be.
Why would you try and strip that from her?
She’s precious to me, can’t you see?
I tried so hard to get you to understand.
But you ignored it all, you never believed me.
So I’m done trying. There’s no point.
She’s the only one that makes me happy.
When I’m around her, everything just fades away.
My fears, my sorrow, my stupid thoughts.
I wish I could be by her side forever.
I miss her so much.
It’s like my heart is breaking when we’re apart.
I know, somehow, we’ll get through this.
And it will all be worth it.
Someday, I’ll be by your side.
Someday, your lips will touch mine.
I know one day, we’ll finally be together.
And we’ll never be apart from that point on.
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 10:27 PM UTC
A man filled with purity
From a God filled with Love.
Came with cleans hands,
From the discomfort of living up above.
A man with no iniquity,
Who only sees equality,
Obedient to what His Father asked of he,
Simply to save you and me.
Though His hands were clean and free of sin,
He had a passion to serve from deep within.
We ***** people,
muddy with hate,
Muddy with pride,
Daily we procrastinate.
He tainted His clean hands,
For the sake of our lives.
Willing to get His hands *****
Something we do not do,
Though we are covered with dirt,
This we refuse to see.
***** hands,
Of Him who saved us,
***** hands of us who live without love.
***** hands of us who believe in God,
***** hands,
Idle.
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 7:00 AM UTC
You agitate, I soothe
I laugh, you cry
You procrastinate, I plan
I toil, you sleep
You mingle, I retreat
I reach, you blench
You deceive, I release
I purify, you violate
You mystify, I enlighten
I grow, You shrink
You ignore, I explore
I create, you destroy
You devour, I nibble
I give, you take
You walk, I run
I defend, you assault
You subtract, I add
I love, you hate
Jun 17, 2016
Jun 17, 2016 at 11:18 AM UTC
You actively procrastinate
Most everything you do these days
You really can’t put this off
To live instead of
Dying - as the one ambition you achieve
Why -
Should this be the one project
You actually complete?
Ambition ought to carry us toward something
Sure -
We could carry ourselves toward death
But we say that as nothing
To aim to achieve to be nothing
Enticing
Of course - to bereave ourselves of ourselves
Once and for all
And forego the work
Though we chose it
And choose it again
Choose it again
Aug 7, 2022
Aug 7, 2022 at 6:30 AM UTC
I'm just going through the motions,
each day is the same.
The work day drags on,
unfinished and cut off.
I stand at the door of my house,
hoping for some change.
I greet my cat with love,
refill her water.
I procrastinate at playing guitar,
pushing away my dreams.
I'm fine.
I'm fine.
I'm lonely.
I'm fine.
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 11:36 PM UTC
Eighteen, a number rattled off a ticket,
Eighteen, the number of days I have left
Eighteen days to make a decision.
Eight plus one equals seven.
Seven, the year before my innocence was taken again.
Eight minus one equals six.
Six, the year of therapy for my traumaized mind.
Eighteen years in Eighteen days in Eighteen hours I have.
I have on a roster, I have in my head.
Oh dear one, will I be dead?
Fallen from the cradle the baby do fall.
She tumbled and cried and death was the end result.
I too am the baby never to grow up.
Eighteen days until my cradle will fall and I will cry.
When in life is this decision made?
Decision of the mind to place action to body?
Tumble bumble, falling little baby.
Eighteen days, the time I have left.
Eighteen years, a deadline I can't procrastinate.
Eighteen lifetimes,
Eighteen.
Sep 13, 2016
Sep 13, 2016 at 10:23 AM UTC
Conquered by the cause of confidence
Cluttered by the cost of distraction
Cut off by the clause of equal and opposite reaction
We endure
We Procrastinate
We suffer
We live on
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 6:34 PM UTC
66% is the Devil Point...
I have 6 courses abandoned at 66%..
The greatest power Devil has is not temptation,
It is boredom and procrastination
It is the mid-point sway...
It is the collapse of the pre-frontal cortex,
when we reach half-way through our goal,
when we are too far from our starting point,
and too far from our ending point,
We don't know why we began,
We don't know where we will end.
So the Devil point kicks in at 66% completion,
And makes us procrastinate, makes us feel "meh"
Brave thru it, ye fellow warrior,
Just do the tiniest bit needed in a day,
Just tie your shoes laces and half the race is won
Make a cup of tea.. and the article is written
Clear some clog in the room, and the painting is done..
So, to bump over that comfortable resting point...
that lethargic 66% mid-way stop,
pamper yourself with something momentarily
and just do ONE small thing every day
'Cause I promise you this, when you have inched to 80%
you will be fuelled again with images of victory
all doubt and disbelief and lethargy will be thwarted
You will forget pain and other creature comforts
You will cruise through the finish line..
Jun 9, 2017
Jun 9, 2017 at 5:48 AM UTC
I'm working I tell my mom
staying up late at night as she thinks I'm doing homework
while I actually waste time on youtube and 9gag.com
search cultures, and histories, and groups
wanting to belong
and be a part of
a community, a group, find myself
and then I feel so selfish sitting in my room starting to pity those who don't have food
when the pity turns on my for having no sense of culture nor community
I go to school everyday wanting to learn about everything that I don't hear
about space and stars, histories, wars, and of people who belonged with friends in proximity
I can't work, I try to but I can't
I search up how to look more pretty and attract my crush
and then how we shouldn't care about looks from someone who loves to rant
I listen to punk rock, ska punk, celtic punk, and rock because I can't work
I play my trombone because I can't work but I can do music homework
I read books about history and stars because I can't work but I can learn
You can't go anywhere without good grades they say
so if only i was marked on things I wanted to learn
things I wanted to present for things I wanted to earn
I'm only 15 and don't know where this is going
and now I'm resisting the temptation to erase this whole non-poem that I'm to and froing
with info about my life that only I care about
while I procrastinate like most kids do my age
when I hear my mom shout
telling me to not stay up too late and that she's proud of me working
when I'm actually wasting my time and her dreams
so I'll get back to my can't working
ending this not-a-poem with something it's not doing- flowing
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 11:42 PM UTC
I procrastinate quite often.
Even now as my fingers slide across the mosaic keys, my body is procrastinating
Yet my mind and my concience is begging for my undivided attention.
I will never understand the science behind such a mindless act.
Why is it that I draw my focus away from the things that matter
And then concentrate on the things that do not?
Like the bent corners of my paper
The lid that grips loyally to the end of my pen
The spiraling spine of my notebook...
All the little and insignificant things that
do not matter.
Oh how so sadly ironic,
That even such a mindless act can hold some truths about my life
And how I tend to mindlessly focus on things that just
Do not matter.
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 8:39 AM UTC
All year long
I procrastinate
until the cold
December air
is dense with the cries
of these neglected tasks
But the beginning
of a new year is light.
So much room
to push stuff back
to a later date.
A perfect time to write.
Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 11:46 PM UTC
Father Time
(Poem by Serenus)
Father, Oh Father
When will it stop?
You standing beside me
Tapping your watch
The key to life is lost
Leaving my mind locked
My time is almost up
So I’m avoiding the clock
Precious little time
So many things to do
Failure after failure
I wish I could start anew
Counting what I’ve accomplished
Productively throughout the years
Calendar pages empty
Filled with all my fears
Scared of leaving my comfort-zone
…And trying something new
I’m not going to last
-Stuck in the past
And all that I’ve been through
Excuse after excuse
That’s what time really hates
Those hesitant to life
And are prone to procrastinate
Father, Oh Father
You got me on the run
Restlessness is your brother
And Impatience is your son
Who am I… really?
That’s who I need to find
So all I’m asking for
Is just a little time
A few extra moments
And I promise- I’ll be done
But begging is useless
Because Time waits for no one…
Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 7:59 PM UTC
In place of these observations
I substitute anxious reflection
and retrace the lines of I and o
and the waste time with which I am supplied
under a similar stress
my busy classmates are trained to fear the absence of
For without that fear and stress
there is eminent reason to fear
and stress
so I narrate this midspace
for?
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 7:27 PM UTC