Procrastiantion 101

piles of records
wait like executioners
have no plan
of putting my
head for the
cutting axe

they can always wait
while i dance
while i climb mountains
and see the fog
and the ships below
the wide expanse
of the sea

meanwhile i am sipping
tea
and savoring this
slice of cake

this slice of life
how can i let them
waste it?

i am stopping by the woods
to listen to the birds
i am roaming the forest
for the flowers

i like to stop for a while
and wade on the river
i like to flow like the wind
to the willow trees

let the pile of records wait
with their axes and spears
i will then offer this body
for their feasts...

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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