deepundergroundpoetry.com

Procrastination

I dose myself as I lay
The golden cat waves to itself on the nearby shelf
Rhythmic and entrancing it counts the seconds
Wiling away the minutes as I lay

The ceiling lures me in as I walk its many mazes
Through flat plains and stucco knolls
The shadows lengthen, creeping down the walls
A million points of light vanish in an instant
I watch the day go by as I lay

My breathing steady as I wonder away
Day dreaming of better places to be and things to see
Eyes glassy, I stare past the shelf and the cat waving to itself
Far away in another place I see myself
My body hollow, my soul alive
I travel existentially Through these dreams
The images in my mind play, a cinema as I lay

In my mind I flirt with danger and dance with disaster
We step to the rhythm of a beat only I can hear
Seductive, Sinister ideas I whisper in her ear
Memories of times she can't ignore in places with better decor
The dance ends and I part ways as I return to where I lay

The seconds turn to hours and the stoic cat keeps count
As if in judgment, it never relents its ceaseless motion
My head is an ocean of unseen depths
Lurking below the surface is my reality
I drown those thoughts in fear of reprisal
On fantasies and day dreams I sail away
light fades as the day begins yet still I lay

Friends come and talk, we walk through the days events
stopping occasionally or backtracking as if lost in thought
We continue like this in a roundabout way
Always losing our way, we go in circles as I lay

Conversation wanes and silence blankets our voices
A stark sound scape devoid of things that walk and things that talk
Like winter snow in rural woods, no foot prints can be seen
The ugly tranquility of silence, a black and white movie scene
The door creaks as they rise to leave, I stay comfortably where I lay

Still lost in mazes of thought and woods of words
I trace Ideas with my eyes trying to create
Realizing that I am more then a little late
Failing to impress, I am lost I must digress

My thoughts echo in empty space
Locked in my head they rot away
Free to roam where they may
I waste each second in the day
So much to do, so much to convey
To my ire I have no desire, I dismay
To do or not to do I ask my essay
Day dreaming as I lay