Long Procrastination Poems
Long Procrastination Poems. Below are the most popular long Procrastination by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Procrastination poems by poem length and keyword.
It is an important cake that I had to bake with out a rake so that it would be
real It has a special filling that the groom himself requested and has not been
tested a flavor that is also a favorite of mine no matter where I dine even with fine punch It must not even come close to being dropped nor even flipped
It is a family specialty both with and with out the decorations with not one
splotch not one drop of scotch although my watch seems to have been some
how misplaced plus every step retraced although perhaps it’s in the van with the
pans of sandy ham maybe even on the can of Pam- wherever it is I can not put
down the cake to look
My book when last seen was next to the cake which was nowhere near the
hooks my watch may have been there too when I was using my decorating tools
with out boos but wherever my watch happens to be I am grateful I have not run
into any yellow bees I hope I am not late regardless of the fee because I have to
make a delivery even if for free
Well whatever the time even if I only get a few dimes and limes this is a
special occasion so this better be the right destination regardless of
instantaneous regeneration of plants with out procrastination or any kind of
hesitation despite some close calls that would make it resemble the leaning
tower of Italy here comes the wedding cake!
Catch the sound of green petals
echo the thoughts of my mind
left with a weak feeling
while gently waving your thumb
lack of procrastination
Amadeus Theme
with its complex dynamics
The nightingale was full of happiness
in the sound of the melody wind
The azure sky glitters
got into me with their lyrics
Written: August 12, 2022
A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Michael Cheval is a modern artist noted for his "Absurdist" paintings, sketches, and portraits. Cheval's art is a mystery. His artwork's title and graphics include hints of its secret significance. According to him, absurdity is the opposite of rationality. It's neither surrealist nor subliminal. His metaphorical art takes a trained eye to identify hidden allusions.
Life has a meaning if you wake up from stupor
Procrastination will not help you achieve goal
days pass, years waste away, making you a loser
wake up before time takes a worst turn, death bells toll
When there was nothing there was God who created
A beautiful and pristine world for man to live
Be a vicegerent and protect the ill-treated
To be kind towards all to forget and forgive
Work to live, live to work is a motto well served
Stupor belongs to the Devil, fans his ego
Some rest after a day's hard work is well-deserved
Work without required sleep results in vertigo
So, wake up from ever deadly stupor my friend
Take up unfinished tasks to give meaning to life
It's never too late for an evil soul to mend
If not, words of evil and slander will be rife
Like procrastination, stagnation
and its constipated nature is like
a high hurdle before the finish line—
a pregnant thief waiting to trounce you.
Life’s like a race running through hell
and through its trials and tribulations,
we must keep running—for if we stop
we will surely burn in the fires of their hell.
With eyes on the prize, faith in God,
belief in self, keep running children;
otherwise, you’ll fail to make it through
the fires of hell being stoked around you.
As you live and strive to do so, be aware
of the trumped-up hell around you.
Look, listen, and know—but don’t you stop!
The fires of defeat are burning—don’t stop!
It’s Monday - again - every time I look around,
it seems like it’s Monday again.
Weekdays I run on snark and caffeine.
If I seem preoccupied..
I’m not ignoring you, I’m buffering
My playlists soothe and understand me
I’m not ignoring you, I’m reorganizing a playlist.
My mood is linked to Wi-Fi strength.
I’m not ignoring you, I’m doom scrolling.
On weekends, we put the ‘pro’ in procrastination
we take the celibacy out of celebration
and work on our romantic cardio
Sometimes you gotta pop-out and show your alignment
I’m not ignoring you, I just don’t want to pull a bird-finger muscle
.
.
A song for this:
The Politics of Dancing (12" Extended Mix) by Re-Flex
Without Him by Triste Janero
I can be proactive despite my delay
In taking two pain pills so I can slay
Doing the things I can do well despite
A little brown bird of procrastination inside
I went to Goodwill to see what I’d find
Someone’s trash is a treasure of mine
I am so thrilled as I was in a blue bind
Teal goodies are here in the nick of time
Did my best to silver save a few bucks
Made a way out of no way God does
Autumn’s breath beneath whimsical wings
Ears drink notes the geese seem to sing
Daily prayers answered I am so blessed
Like a pink panther I prance in my dress
I’m a little tea pot petite purple loveliness
Not always on top but I denim do my best
Lights catch random particles, drawing attention to the eye. Heart beats out of rythm. Smoke clouds magically appear as thoughts bluntly dissipate. Into thin air goes the brain, gliding down memory lane. Day brought Déjà vu, followed by awkward agitation. Fear drives choices, fueling the machine; misdirected. Procrastination leaves margin for error. Thoughts corrupt the already polluted mind.
Speaking thoughts out loud is a cause for concern but preoccupation leave us feeling trapped. Searching for a way out takes over all priority causing an over stimulated mind to lunge for relief.
Quickly fixed by applying temporary bandages to hide emotions can't shake waking up feeling regrets and projecting anger. Dwelling on the past, medicating anguish, inevitable anxieties begin forming conclusions with little rationality. Left with a bitter taste from nibbling on our own cuticles.
Excuse me, while I hold tight onto my crutches. Self consciously, I'm lead into the bathroom. Overly critical; analyzing myself; the correct answers lose gravity. As if to be rotating on the axis of the universe, I surrender to myself with the power of my own beliefs. Chalking it up as the simple result of over-stimulation.
You are a creature of purpose
Therefore empower yourself with what is already yours!
Passion and the power of your vision
Can be displayed in your life
All you need is that decision and
You can enhance the precision in your life.
Procrastination might be wrong!
In this century
Now is the time to live strong
Accumulate the thoughts you have left behind
Because the theft of your potential remains in the future.
Do not let the cemetery rob you of your potential
Fulfillment of your purpose is essential to your life so
This matter of persistence is certainly not inconsequential.
Believe in the steps of time or else
The crime of procrastination will follow and
You will live a shallow life
The theft of your potential remains in the future
Therefore empower yourself with what is already yours!
It is never too late to be what you were born to be.
Mark Frank
Copyright 2022
I've been sitting on my couch doing nothing
Procrastination has been a practice ever since
2018 is a sought year to make a big thing!
I'll slit laziness and cut it into mince
See myself productive making bunch of achievements
Plenty of time to make good things even better
I'll repair my wrecked dreams left at empty pavements
No single heartbreaks will be written in a letter
A brand new year for a brand new me
Everything will be on point leading to right way
No room for lame excuses and take courage to be...
I wonder what massive success waiting on that day
Promise to be untamed and motivated to my work
Better production will be seen next year like a firework
So, what is the best theme for
a poem? No guarded secret, all themes --
Freely to Roam! And what, the prescribed
destination or direction? Wherever the poet,
himself, deems worthy of fond or pertinent
affection –
Poetic Theme (extended metaphor)
So, what is the best theme for
a poem? No guarded secret, all themes –
Freely to Roam! And what the prescribed
destination or direction? Only those fond
and pertinent, giving affectionate-justification as
reason for procrastination – to linger in a moment's
subtle discovery – the courses followed only those
which the poet deems entrancingly divine – he seeks
heartfelt permanent encampment – or just an
amicable pause, in a neighboring field, fertile for
blooming enchantment; with his companion pen, to chronicle
canorous visuals, fervently inspired – or simply folksy,
lyrical rides; for the poet, alone, decides where his poetry lives
or temporarily abides –
(his muse, never far off – nearby, perhaps reflecting in the shade of a flowering
fruit tree: heaped in petals, not trying to hide – more enjoying the velvety feel of an
apple before the outer peel, though colorful, would be far too bitter for his present
aromatic meal) – muse and poet, composing through a single eye. Writing as one:
sharing new sights – sounds with scent – their mind dutifully toward poetry
bent – shades of detail, mellifluously transcending common scheme and rhyme –
incanting verse worthy of a brief performance, or immortal, blessed shrine –
It's all fair, such dulcet affair! All subjects! All seasons! – preferring spring, in which to self-lavish and spiritually entwine. Therefore, his paths are fanciful, never truthful as definitive
would define; often choosing glitter over harsh realty, yet can be a prophet and oracle if a troubling-time -- though never, a ruling class mime; – in this sense, he is a likable charlatan, a chimerical rebel...irreconcilable passion his soulful crime, therefore not ever exhibited, an atoning-word or act of sorrowful contrition – so loved by God, who gags at his counterpart, the lying politician.