"procrastinated" poems
I have procrastinated for months
To eventually write this poem today
Ironically, this time
The poem to be penned
Was meant to bring to an end
To my pet peeve of procrastination.
I thought my writing of it
Would be bring me face to face
[Oh, no. I am behind time and Procrastination is ahead of me.]
With procrastination.
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 6:48 PM UTC
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.
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 1:59 PM UTC
Perfected spending ideal day off
Prepared a hot breakfast in bed
Procrastinated Java or Columbia
Perused the paper cover to cover
Perplexed prayer over crossword
Pampered by bath-time bubbles
Phoned almost forgotten friends
Purchased Murakami on Amazon
Polished off a lunchtime martini
Postponed exercise with siesta
Perambulated the beach slowly
Pushed the boat out for dinner
Preferred Barolo to Barbaresco
Panicked - work again tomorrow.
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 9:23 AM UTC
This verse soundscape
is labelled dejected and angry.
Procrastinated
pockets
of
hope deferred
make the heart choke
in a vice-like
pressure cooker
tension filled
with
the cardiac solution called
LIFE
Think about it.
Tasting your own medicine
is
such a bitter pill to swallow.
They say
“Be the change that you want to see”
but
NO CHANGE
I see
on paths traveled
now
&
before
me.
Does this mean
the change I want to see
is
‘no change’
– a Spirit
personified
slowly
dying
yet
living
within you and me?
Think about it.
Tired of a dead lifes' heart attack?
then
SEE THROUGH
the change you want
to be.
On your journey
bitter pills do digest.
USING
the
MEMORY
of that
ill
taste
to heal
&
outlive
the sickness
prevalent in this
human
**RACE
?**
Think about it.
WHAT REALLY IS YOUR HURRY?
S L O W D O W N.
Can't you can see ?
GRAVES'
great joy
is
to
blind & thieve
"your grace"
leaving you
with just enough energy
to
kick the bucket,
while robbing you of understanding
that these
sweet words
origin
from
YOU
to
ME
reflecting
what 20-20
would let you
really see...
**You are Kings & Queens**
Think about it.
We are all connected unilaterally.
Put plainly;
we agree to disagree,
in the midst of the fact that
there can be
no lasting freedom
until there is a weathered
wisdom
of
UNITY.
So(w),
If you see her
hold fast,
relinquish not,
D O N 'T L E T GO!
For
that's the point
when we truly become
LOST SOULS.
© Qwey.ku
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 10:44 AM UTC
I knocked on society’s door,
Hollow footsteps through the crevice of civility,
A ***** welcome mat with a broken doorbell;
No visitors wanted who were not invited,
And understanding was buried under the porch.
In Law’s front yard,
picketed with ire and arrayed with disorder,
Olive branches strewn across dry grass,
lay an empty briefcase marked in leather.
Gavel and irony betrayed her whimsically.
Garden beds in front of Understanding;
Plundered of roses and wanton petals.
Bland stems wilted amongst the weeds.
Relinquished of entitlement; water led
Towards apathy and entropy instead.
A house of Perhaps: vacant,
Open front door to empty rooms.
Leased to opportunity but vacated in days,
Renovations procrastinated; mocked by
The neighbor of dismay and wry.
Ignorance paved a new driveway,
The unanimous watch of Lively Cul-de-sac;
Gated community with hopes of manicured
Lawns and pools. Procreated in the minds
Of not wild men, but surveyors.
Mar 6, 2012
Mar 6, 2012 at 4:17 AM UTC
It’s moments like this
Some obscure song playing on our google home
My brother, gazing off into the distance no doubt under the spell of some great philosophical inquiry,
Neglecting the spoon and it’s contents
Drip drip dripping
My mother in the corner, seemingly preoccupied, slender fingers probing what appears to be
Yet another bag
Of those chocolate covered toffee almonds
My father, ever the victor in competitive eating, up and roaming about
By the window one moment, at the couch the next
Gone like the wind, oh here he comes
Meanwhile I, face a great trial which I must overcome in order to greet my destiny
-stairs
At the top of which await
Dozens upon dozens of procrastinated
Assignments just calling to me
Stirring up within me a desire,
A ferocious flaming ambition,
To not move an inch
Jan 2, 2019
Jan 2, 2019 at 1:57 PM UTC
from time to time
there is a romance of being alone
the imaginations she powdered
generously upon the colorless reality.
metaphors that she sews upon the sleeves
of melancholy.
her girlfriends and she roamed
the ups and downs of the earth,
while their mothers screamed
for them to be ladylike.
saturday afternoons,
they procrastinated upon pastries and honey
crystallized fairy tales
courteous animals
riding on the coattail of dreams
a lighthearted feeling others tried to snooze.
they observe things through glitters of their vapor.
they dote on the humor of ice creams
and sunlight of scarlet pink.
as we laugh with charm,
what a way with words,
a lopsided smile,
a head of curls,
a flock of girls.
Aug 15, 2017
Aug 15, 2017 at 1:47 PM UTC
Today, I saw it all
The way a nose perched, delicately
Riffs moving, internally
A puff of frustration causing hopelessness
Two, one more than one
A test of strength
Procrastinated beginnings, never
The last thread of hope, ready
It should work
It should
Nov 4, 2012
Nov 4, 2012 at 10:34 PM UTC
If the shackles of the bouldering social structures collapse then the stores are closed for winter. Sandy can wear last month’s Louis.
If the whole world allowed us in then you shouldn’t have procrastinated poisoning the fluorescence.
If you open the worn pages of time then you won’t die alone.
Not enough, huh?
Steely Dan the doctor Frankenstein.
“I cried when I wrote this song. Sue me if I play too long,”
Compost dreams so not long-gone?
If you have to **** yourself, then Paris becomes your drug.
Why would I intervene an ungrateful brat?
Don’t know if your veins will end up my perfect quill but if I have lose musical chairs to my father I will get you that spotlight *********
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 4:38 PM UTC
We used to be so close, so inmost, so opposite and disposed and yet so equal and lazy that we were one.
Opposites attract and then get distracted. Equals distract and then get attracted.
We are opposites, we are equals, we are strangers.
We were opposites, we were equals, but today we are just two strangers with a routine of talking everyday about stuff that never existed.
We are two points intertwined by a circular line that keeps moving without our consent, lost in a infinite time space.
A friendship disguised, a feigned tolerance, a mutual and misunderstood need of acquaintanceship between each other.
A prophylactic and procrastinated love that wants to keep distance, deviating itself from the deep suffering.
But what suffering?
The suffering was only the avid fear by pain that turned us into two unaware and afraid of everything.
We are singular.
We are plural.
We're diminutive and we're augmentative.
We are two laconic passengers of the wacky train without driver that is the prolix relationship of humans, love and hate.
We are two regular strangers in relentless pursuit of deterioration of our love as a solution for all in our lives.
We are two remote lovers in relentless pursuit of deterioration of our lives as a solution for all our love.
Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 1:43 PM UTC
It's 12:29.
I'm thinking about the moon.
It's one of those "Sufjan Stevens" nights.
His music always manages to perfectly translate my befuddling feelings and thoughts into rhythm and beat.
If I rest now I will miss out on what the night has to offer.
It's 1:07
I'm lying in bed.
I hear my mom on the phone with grandma.
They always manage to keep the conversation fresh and perpetual despite the 8,096 mile distance.
If I let my eyes close now morning and work will arrive faster.
It's 2:03
I give up on homework.
I open the laptop to watch Netflix.
I re-watch a show I've seen a dozen times.
If I escape to dreamland, this sense of knowing of what is to come will be stolen by the uncertainty of the subconscious.
It's 4:32
I'm filled with sadness.
I have procrastinated badly.
I abruptly jump out of bed and head downstairs to brew coffee.
If I go to sleep, I will regret it in the morning when I will face the consequences of my laziness and late night reasoning.
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 12:50 AM UTC
Unfinished- Not completed
Something I wish I had not procrastinated
Procrastination- This project
Sorry, Something pushed off to be finished later
Distraction- Something that takes yo-
Oh wait, is that? No, nevermind.
May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 12:16 PM UTC
It’s fact, fiction, and lies, as the devil continues to pry
On my soul and my flesh, punching holes like paper on a teacher’s desk,
Slouched over I’m a mess, a mess as a drunken sketch
This feeling I’ll match it - with a match lighting this torn cigarette.
I feel evil caress the stress imploding my chest
With no one to impress I rip apart my dress
Naked I confess, take a breath and cover my mouth with mesh…
Yes, mesh, I guess I’m scared to be deprived completely of air,
A bit here and there, taking it as I declare
I’m comfortably bare beside my ***** ******* chair
Prepared to spare my body physically impaired
I glare with despair; Life is not fair
I’m too late to repair, how dare someone not care…
Not care, to act blind and deaf to me cry like a dying swine
Denied. That’s fine. The destruction returns with black clouds in the sky.
Empty time combined with the drought of your hasty good bye,
My pounding, bound mind can’t find words to describe.
With tear-filled eyes I lie and line my body with it’s design,
Blissful hate, You can define me as a Divine Crime.
This divine crime procrastinated, not yet committed,
Still addicted to the sadistic ways of the wicked.
Twisted liquid drowned the fear unconstricted,
Thriving off the blade penetrating my skin’s system.
Transmitted blood puddling just as I’d written,
Delivering my limit as predicted, I just couldn’t have committed!
Not so much committing to him but more my life,
Uncertainties of my nature were as cold as ice.
Precisely entice yet deceive I’d slice and not think twice,
My heart is charcoal, as small as a grain of rice.
Love is dry and old, cannot be marked with a price,
So listen to my advice - I’m a toxic prosthetic device to ruin your life.
The Devil Inside.
A Divine Crime.
Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 12:12 PM UTC
I was 11 years old when I knew
"female" was not me
I never like wearing dresses or skirts
but as the first girl in the new generation, it wasn't my call
I was always a princess
I wanted to be a pirate...
a viking...
a wizard...
that's when I knew
and I blocked it
I procrastinated in my own gender
now I'm 18 and I put my old beanie on my head
just to remember the feeling
I didn't know I was bringing it back but now immortal
3 days have passed
my eyebags are darker
and my hair is shorter
I want the scars beneath my chest
and my beanie on my head
Feb 22, 2019
Feb 22, 2019 at 11:22 PM UTC
Love in an elevator
Procrastinated "see you later",
and how I ******* hate her.
An attest to me?
No, attest to thee,
And protest the conquest
for outdoor reccess.
No I didn't break it,
I found it that way.
No love in an elevator,
Satiated, recluse motivator.
See the rust on the bones?
They happened when you were home alone.
Home but not alone.
Check your sunrise, check your phone.
I will check it before I wreck it,
and remember she still deserves respect.
Despite the state of the insect.
We all need love.
Not some hope from above.
A genuine sunrise check.
A dauntless morning peck.
The hope for this comfortability
The mind's wish for mobility
The endless denial of futility
And my endless conquest for you.
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 2:15 PM UTC
Procrastinated all day
So here we go...
Caffeine high
Music so loud
Laptop out
Calculator ready
Let do this.
Jun 10, 2019
Jun 10, 2019 at 8:12 PM UTC
Can you feel it?
Can you feel the heat?
Can you feel the pressure in the atmosphere?
Or is that just me?
When did the calm disappear and my palms get sweaty?
**** I'm unsteady on my feet.
I've been flipped like a light switch.
Cool and collected I am no more.
The words I pitch to you are already formed without thought and will hit you full force.
Maybe I could've waited?
But anger's never procrastinated.
It's instant and ferocious.
I know this, you know this, we all know this.
But it doesn't help knowing in these briefest of moments.
A flash and its done, nobodys won.
Just two broken people with regrets of whats happened with a loved one.
What a shameful and painful time to be alive.
It almost hardens the heart,
It takes its toll on the inside.
It's something we can't plan for
We can only realise after the fact and apologise.
Even if the wound is still sore.
I'm sorry.
In that moment my mind was blinded.
Can you forgive me for that moment of unkindness?
Apr 2, 2020
Apr 2, 2020 at 4:22 AM UTC
Accrue many a delicate deep smile
Never knowing when the next tear will come
Or when the wails shall shadow over
Plethora of reasons, those intent on joy
Collect many a simple style
Never knowing why the time ran out
Or why the trend became a crawl
Become forgotten just as it begun, replaceable
Stand by many a word, written souls, alive
Never knowing how far their reach can touch
Or how long its power can fire, spark, alight
Cavernous minds to accept them as guides
While time remains graceful
Disallow the procrastinated, wasteful
Urge to leave masterpiece for tomorrow
It may never come, then be overrun
when shadows cast over
Trends crawl backwards
And the fire be dimmed
Banishing us all to caves, hopeless and slaved
Jun 2, 2015
Jun 2, 2015 at 1:37 AM UTC
I got scolded, got debouched
For the love I had that you didn't care for.
I failed many times, gave up everything I had
For the wrong thinking that you love me too.
I adored you, prioritized things that are for you
For the thought that you're heart is mine.
I procrastinated what must've been done first,
Became stupid in the eyes of other people
For the love I thought is true.
I feel stupid, ashamed of myself
I'm so broken, so dead
So afraid to love again
With this procrastination for love,
Everyday is a dead rain.
Dec 21, 2011
Dec 21, 2011 at 5:48 AM UTC
I decided to make the cross from the bathroom to my bedroom quick.
Everyone was already sleeping so all the lights in the house were off.
As I stepped from the light to the dark I was blinded, but I knew someone else could see.
As I stood at my door a second or two to open it, I felt a presence approach.
But I rushed into my room because I'd rather not know.
I closed my door and almost locked it, then reconsidered, in case I had to get out.
My blankets and sheets were on the bed, as I had just laundered them.
I stared at the door as I made my bed, 'cause I knew something was out there.
I avoided turning my back to the door so as to not be vulnerable.
I stared at the door as I pulled the cover back and lay down.
I was turning off the light but quickly flicked my head back over, I know I heard something.
There's a wolf outside my door.
There are Wolves outside my door.
They might be feasting on the others.
I'm the only one who sleeps with the door shut.
I procrastinated turning off the light before finally accepting nothing was going to happen.
But there's still something out there, I can feel it in my spine.
There are Wolves out there waiting to consume me as soon as my eyes shut.
My flesh, my body, my soul, my entire being, my very essence, they're waiting.
I've got work tomorrow, and school as well, I have to go tomorrow.
Hell, I hate both, but if needing to go keeps me alive, I can't die now.
I'm staying awake because I want to be ready to run when the Wolves come in.
I just turned the light back on, I want to know what's around me.
But now that I think about it, I'm letting them know I'm here.
I wanted to affirm their lack of presence, but just confirmed my own.
There's Wolves,
Outside my door,
Outside my window,
Inside my closet,
Under my bed,
Inside my head,
And they won't leave,
Not until I'm dead.
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 3:24 AM UTC
It's been a while since we drank wine,
On the borderline somewhere between love and great desire,
I was a miser, a pauper in the ways of romance,
With space in his heart for two but a want for one.
You were the elegant lotus flower,
Unfurling each delicate petal of venomous beauty,
I was taken aback with what I may never know,
Your eyes like none I'd ever seen before,
Possessing all the wisdom I need in this lifetime,
I stood shaken, a stray dog in the rain.
You beckoned to me to dance across celestial Babylon,
But in my haste and in my darkest hour to date,
I procrastinated and that glorious morning sun returned,
Ripping down each pathetic colour from the rainbow,
Until the world fell grey and limp,
And silence dawned upon my heart and I was then,
As I am now, alone, and so forever shall I stay,
'Til death do us part, my heart and I.
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 3:55 AM UTC
Do you still think of her as the first girl,
you met during college,
who would squeal your name to annoy you and shove you aside when challenged?
or the study partner that would sit with you till dawn because you procrastinated till the last moment.
Do you still think about her with longing,
when you remember the looks you’ve shared or the touches that bloomed?
or do you sigh with regret that the friendship you shared with her would be doomed.
Do you still look at her with amusement,
as she happily exclaims that she wants to ride shotgun,
while your friends groan?
or do you horribly sing along with her, as she tries to protest with an annoyed moan
Do you still think of her when you’re away,
her stupid annoying rants about world politics and cats that need to be rescued?
or do you think of me as a silent lover,
because I sure do think of you.
May 19, 2017
May 19, 2017 at 11:09 PM UTC
I
Having decided to return home after seeing my friends
Victorious in battle
I launched Lucifer away from the gate.
The weather permitted my swift travel
And I was off!
Galloping across the tarmac.
II
The opening naughts were easy
I glided along like a swift, if unruly dragon
I knew something would be wrong: the weather was still nice
And, if you know Éire you know you're in trouble
I met fellow travelers who seemed to agree with me.
They brought their dogs in: wise move.
My muscles began to tire; but then again
They were always weak (pathetic ********
Hills grew steep and Lucifer rebelled *******
I found myself swallowed by mud; drowning, drowning in muck.
The journey goes on.
Continuing on my voyage, I saw several other travelers.
(They owned neither dogs nor Lucifer)
We detoured, talked and I gave my muscles rest
An labhríonn tú Gaeilge I asked.
They affirmed; I procrastinated.
The journey still went on.
I finished that stretch within a short space of time
I was tired and Lucifer was grumbling.
Went through the gate
Unto the estate!
III
The opening hills were grueling
Long unending, unforgiving mounds
My hands ached.
I reached the top of the hill,
Rocketing down the gravel,
The wheels compounding the stones
I was doing it! I was doing it!
I got stuck in the grass.
Oi Vey
I eventually got myself free
And there were only a few more hills
To wage war with.
II turned the corner after the last
And saw the ramp.
In my head, a variant of Chariots of Fire thundered in my brain.
(Greek composers are the best to give one inspiration)
I reached the ramp
Turned the key
And was home!
VICTORY!
VICTORY!
VICTORY!
P.S. The journey took me 10minutes.
CP's a *****
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 3:16 PM UTC
Procrastinated feelings
Swept under the night cover
Happy moon in full view
Trying to make the night brighter
Sitting apart in anticipation
Opportune moment to express
Bathing in the silver light
There comes a glimmer of hope
Aching hearts want to heal
Taste the heady potion together
Such a serene night, in conspiracy
Trying to make this an ethereal stage
Distances can be traversed
Tonight is the night
Spaces can be fulfilled with the love
That once was
Waiting for a crescendo moment
Souls can entwine under the silver light
Love always sees a glimmer of hope
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 8:02 AM UTC
30 Oct 2013
The Room
it is a quaint room
from where I lay at this moment
at the wrong end of the bed
the door is quiet
to the left of that door
there is a silver gap in that door
made as a handle
there is a crimson light switch
flicked downward
the wall where the door and the light switch rest,
is white
to the right of me, there is a baby blue wall
resting on the corner of this wall
and the one behind me
is a small wooden dresser
people have written terrible things
on this dresser, is the fault in our stars
behind me is a window sill, where I sit at night
and where I placed a rock that says "love"
above the window, are light green curtains
I tied them together, to let in light
and drown my demons
to my left there is a desk and chair
with terrible things written on them
I try not to read the bad things
on the desk is some paperwork
I procrastinated filling out
and my menu for tomorrow
the bathroom is small
the shower rooms are inhumane
I want out of here, but I'm trapped
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 2:48 PM UTC