A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.

but aren't they all random?

Tuesday, January 12, 2021

procrastin'

Don't I care how good it's going to feel
to get this done? Don't I care how 

everything I do to put it off 
becomes no fun?

Not with the Thing Itself 
looming over all. The Thing 
I've Taken On and Know 
it Shall and Must Be Done,
whether or not I fall. 

Let's stall.

We still have time 
to put this off.

It might not be too late
to let it slip a little 
further towards. We'll
make it up with grit
and sudden zeal!

We've done it before.
We've failed a time
or two, but overall
these skills are real.

This is how in these ways 
we go forwards. 

Don't I know the longer it's put off,
the dread aversion stretches and grips
and grows? If I stopped and did it now -

just did it now.

I feel I could, you know. 
I've worked it through (in thought)
all necessary steps, and factored
in the time allowed - and some remains!

There is yet time. If I just stopped
and did it now, by this point, from
the habit dragging out, the urgent color
seeping into everything, it would be
several days before it all unstains.
Recurring panic, my old friend, will
keep swooping in again repeatedly,
uncued - non sequitur suddenly dispelled 

by the realization: "oh yeah.

I've done that now."

"There's nothing more 
I have to do,

I think"

Somehow from past encounters, I know
that light relief, release, is going to feel
okay. I know it from experience. I also know
it can't be worth 

today. 

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