Welcome to The Procrastinators Club: we meet every next Friday.
MY EXPERTISE – PROCRASTINATION
Shall I or shan’t I?
Will I or won’t I?
Could I or couldn’t I?
Should I or shouldn’t I?
Why can I never make up my mind?
Shall I veer left,
Or shall I veer right?
Or should I go straight?
I suppose I just might.
I’ve never been able to make up my mind.
You can’t rush decisions,
You must think upon
Every possible angle,
Each pro and each con.
That’s why I struggle to make up my mind.
There’s only one way to sort this out.
I’ll toss a coin high in the air.
It’s come down heads, that decides it.
Thank you waiter, I’ll have my steak rare
Who said I can never make up my mind?
Footnote – I thought of joining
The Procrastinators’ Club
But I never got round to it
28th March 2023
Expertise in Verse Contest
Sponsor - Jaymee Thomas
I can do it tomorrow, I think, feeling good in my pajamas.
Isn’t this Monday? My husband asks.
Drat! I thought it was Sunday.
Have I already had two days off?
I look at the clock.
I teach school virtually in three minutes.
“Mrs. K are you wearing your pajamas again?”
I thought it was pajama day, I lie.
I do this every week.
The kids start giving me advice.
They all want to help me.
Why do you put everything off to the last second? My husband asks.
Why don’t you go catch the mouse in my new car? I suggest
We are both the world’s biggest procrastinators.
It is good we found each other
So we do not have to drive anyone else mad
with our “last second, last minute” last chance efforts.
Our children are going to hate us when we die.
Look at all the messes they get to clean, and there are mice here.
Every day we say we are going to call an exterminator.
Every day for the last thirteen years. Have we done it? Not yet.
But we are going to….Our mantra.
Auto Pilate
is carrion klaxon blaring
a false viral alert
The warning signal says cadavers don’t vote:
“Let not your lying eyes
believe this smear currency contagious hoax”
With pandemic fear spreading,
speculator pockets get fatally hurt
False profits on a spit propellor decline
Supplies warehouse withering on a purchase vine,
bad news ain’t getting no spin message rebate
As more people dying are multiplying
Autocratic vexation —
Viral cause is venture capitalist absolutely dismissed
Free market con-fidence in a virtual free-fall
Publican procrastinators watch
as the body count mount
The price of human life don’t add up to much
Global crisis ... impending plane of imminence crash
Priceless products in the debt cargo hold were sold
at a discount infection rate
Auto Pilate hollow hope cry,
while washing disdain stained hands:
“High kill yield is a ghastly good time to buy!”
Preparedness
By: Tom Wright
Feb. 1, 1998
Merely waiting
for your ship to come in
is not sufficient.
You must be dockside, prepared and
scanning the horizon.
Those who are content to wait,
life will pass by.
The prepared will always
cause something to happen.
The opportunity you seek
may or may not come.
But never fail because
you were unprepared.
Of much greater importance is
the spiritual side of your life.
While "The old ship of Zion"
will come, many will be left dockside.
The procrastinators,
who had plenty of time,
those who believed in luck or chance,
and yes, those who chose to just wait.
The unprepared will be doomed
to an eternity in hell.
"Where The Worm Dieth Not
And The Fire Is Not Quenched".
It is far better for one's ship
to come late than to come early
and find us unprepared.
"But Of That Day & Hour Knoweth
No Man, No, Not The Angels Of Heaven,
But My Father Only".
Looking outward.
She’s had a hard life, yet can still laugh and smile,
making it look effortless and genuine.
Looking bubbly and youthful, glowing from happiness
like she knows no other way to live.
I’d like to understand -- I really would.
She’s more than a survivor -- she’s a champ.
Looking within.
I have finally earned my bit of comfort.
I should feel light and worry-free.
I should be blissfully happy.
I should look at who I’ve let within my circle.
The negatives who've dragged me down:
the procrastinators, whiners, drama queens and naysayers.
I so need to unclutter and make room
for daydreaming soulseekers and inspiring artists.
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Too Much Technology,
Yet not enough Ecology.
Too much Talking,
And not enough conversation.
Too much planning,
Yet not enough doing.
Too much planting,
And not enough food.
Too many cars,
Yet not enough people.
Too much production,
And not enough consumption.
Too low prices,
Yet not enough quality.
Too much competition,
And not enough co-operation.
Too much of everything,
Yet not enough of anything.
Too much dope,
And not enough hope.
Yet we have had enough reverses,
To know there are enough possibilities,
To negate the oversupply of Procrastinators,
While we still have enough faith in our innovators.
We are the generation
of discontinued imagination.
With our twisting words
you’ll drink in
desperately.
Our beautiful stories
spun from the nothingness.
Shadows of hope
glimmering in the distance.
Farfetched aspirations
that will never be reached.
We are the hopeless romantics
you all wish you could be.
We are amazing with words
yet terrible with people.
We know what to say
and when
without missing a beat.
We are dreamers
and wishful thinkers
and procrastinators beyond belief.
We have hope
for things you
cannot fathom achieving.
We are desperate
for approval
yet hard to convince.
Destined for greatness
that will probably be missed
We are the socially anxious,
hopeful,
and descriptive
pessimists.
We are the ones
you wish you could be.
We are heartbreakers
because we are lost.
We are lonely
but happy.
So trust me when I say:
don’t fall in love
with a poet,
unless you are ready
to become one.
Poets stumble over half written sonnets
find themselves trapped in dark poetic throes
Not for the lack of interest, but they often wilt
as petals wither on the stem of a plucked rose
Their Haiku go on hiatus; lingering on vacation
Romantic writings drag on without decent rhyme
They are not procrastinators, but often tumble
down a mountain side they cannot seem to climb
Writing sharpens the points of dulled memories
black ink is splotched by an onslaught of tears
eyes blur as their hands tremble from sorrow
pens draw deep scars across hearts like shears
Long held melodies keep playing across their minds
unfinished lyrics that lay resting in regions of nether
tunes haunting them until tears rain and lips quiver
Impossible to complete when shackled by love's tether
Sweet opportunity is sometimes lost
when placed too nonchalantly on a list,
and somehow off that list it just gets crossed!
How sad to realize the good you’ve missed!
Great chances must be grabbed! They rarely wait.
Sweet opportunity is sometimes lost.
The wise man takes each chance that comes his way.
Procrastinators see their chance get tossed!
Some stick with what they know, but at what cost?
Suppose new treatments could postpone your death.
Sweet opportunity is sometimes lost.
Regret could haunt you to your dying breath.
An island holiday you do not take
when it is offered. So you wake to frost
outside your window on your late fall break.
Sweet opportunity is sometimes lost!
Oct. 29, 2016 for the Opportunity Contest of Nayda Ivette Negron
Do you have something that you want to start?
An exercise regiment, a business endeavor
Or maybe a weekend trip to the lake?
Time is a wasting my friend
Start today
You may not have time tomorrow
As no one is guaranteed tomorrow
It's all you have - is today
If per chance you have tomorrow
Wouldn't you have it today?
So don't wait till tomorrow
'Cause tomorrow is today
That's my words
But you know what I am saying
Why do you wait till tomorrow?
Did you ever think of that?
Because we are the procrastinators
Because we are the lazy gamers
The no-ending excusers
The frivolous planners
Anything else?
I can think of a lot more
But you know what I am saying?
No excuses, no planning can equal execution
So get going - today
You will thank you for it
Your family will thank you for it
And society will thank you for it
Because you keep the wheels rolling
Churning
Perpetuating
Things are counting on you
Things will not be done without you
Okay?
Unless it's my thing
And I .... eh...would be the one to do it
Do you get what I am saying?
Turtle Time
Ever wonder what they think?
You know, the turtles.
The throwbacks, the procrastinators,
“Land—water—both?”
The first houseboats,
heads sitting on the bow
guiding the cumbersome craft,
stalking the unsuspecting
in slow-mo silence.
Mud slide building
sun worshippers
living life in the slow lane.
Old folk
at warm water beaches
reminiscing,
long swims, ocean currents,
mounded sand,
moonlight rendezvous.
Solitary creatures,
hard shelled
evolutionary slowpokes.
Ever wonder what they think
as generations pass?
John G. Lawless
7/15/2014
contest – Hard Shells – turtle inspired free verse
sponsor – Cyndi MacMillan
FOES
They pretend to be nice…
Whilst their hatred is buried in ice…
So cold to reveal sarcastic pieces…
That catapulted their prejudice…
Now their conscience is in slices...
Their fate narrow and gamble with dices…
Without facts, quiet like mice…
Whoever honours them deserves it thrice…
Their secrets with no value yet with price…
Extent of their jealousy boomerang twice…
Habitual truth procrastinators to deride themselves,
their lives are always lies…
By Willem Pietersen
Ah, tomorrow and tomorrows!
A procrastinators’ catchall
future days that he will borrow
freely to do nothing at all;
but presently those days will dawn
calling due his declarations;
promises he’ll not keep thereon:
deliberate fabrications.
His wishy-washy character
lacks effectiveness and purpose;
his favorite word is “later”
which can be defined as fruitless.
Is there any hope for him? No!
as long as there are tomorrows.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.