Tag Archives: comedy

Back To Full Steam

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…Or scream, in most our cases.

If you’re on the same schedule as me, it means you’re back to your first full week of the year at work. My condolences.

Poems will start back up next week but, till then, I though I’d post a link to my previous posts below. If you’re looking for a little extra  ‘I have no shits left to give’ motivation, be sure to visit my Pinterest board below- you’ll find yourself in good company.

Well, as always, here’s to hoping your day flies right on by and that you’ve got something cold and on the rocks waiting for you when you get home tonight.

Make Monday A Little Easier – Procrastitorian’s Pinterest Board

Monday Mullings – Procrastitorian’s Previous Poems & Odes to Monday Disdain

 

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‘Bout Damn Time

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The Regret Is Strong With This One

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Cold mornings consecrate regrets
ordaining echoes of my past
into entitled shadows
that hold congress
on my path.

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Mornin’, folks. Monday again and I’m sure more than a few are feeling the chill. You know how it goes- you wake up, it’s cold, you start getting ready for the grind. Next thing you know, your mind’s wandering and you’re getting all sour. You know what though? That’s just fine.

Toss the coffee on, make yourself some eggs, and keep going on. The hardest part is over and you just have to make it to tonight.

Well, as always, here’s to hoping your day flies right on by and that you’ve got something cold and on the rocks waiting for you when you get home tonight.

Make Monday A Little Easier – Procrastitorian’s Pinterest Board

Monday Mullings – Procrastitorian’s Previous Poems & Odes to Monday Disdain

 

The Golden Apple

Golden Apple

Looks innocent enough, right?

-The Post That Started It All Circa 2013-

Let me just begin by saying that I normally don’t buy candy or anything for Valentine’s day. However, not even I can escape a store without being bombarded by their well placed, gaudy holiday displays and, today, I am rather glad for that fact. As par, I was walking right past the rows of Valentine’s Day items, but my mind suddenly threw up a mental flag  that caused me to stop and turn right back around.

There, amid the sea of abrasive red and pink cellophane wrapped items, were two large rows of chocolate golden apples.  This was exactly what I had thought I saw, but had to do a double take because, in my mind, that was just too good to be true. For those of you who are familiar with Greek Mythology, you might recognize why I found the idea of offering a golden apple as a symbol of love to various women on a day where you are supposed to cherish the wonderful, beautiful love of your life, so funny. For those of you who aren’t with me yet, or perhaps don’t recognize the story, just let me just give you a brief summary of the tale that instantly came to my mind.

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A marriage of a favored mortal was to take place on Mount Olympus and the gods had been invited for what was sure to be the event of the century.   All of the famous faces you may recognize were there in attendance that day, including three rather important goddesses: Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite. However, the most important figure comes play with a face that wasn’t invited and therefore wasn’t taking part in the festivities of the day: A lesser known goddess by the name of Eris.

Now, this may just be an afterthought, but if there was one goddess that I wouldn’t purposefully not invite to the most happening party on all of Olympus, it probably would be the goddess of  chaos, strife, and discord ( in fact, she’s someone I would work to keep on my side). The other goddesses and gods, however, didn’t see the problem with this and blissfully went about celebrating without another thought of how much ire they’d stoked up within the foreboding goddess.

As you can imagine, Eris wasn’t exactly happy with this and decided that she’d do what she does best (which is cause utter chaos, if you weren’t paying attention). Biding her time till the festivities were well underway, Eris waited until the goddesses in attendance were all standing together. While chatting about the latest fashions in robes and how stupid mortal men were (no doubt), into the middle of them suddenly plopped a beautiful, perfectly polished golden apple. What a gift! Now, you may be thinking what is so special about this apple? They’re found a couple of times throughout Greek mythology, and gods have cooler things like lightening bolts, and crazy beasts they could send to torment people. Well, other than being golden, it wasn’t really wasn’t anything particularly unique about it. Well, except for the tag that is, which simply said: “To The Fairest”. Singular.

Aphrodite statue

If you look closely enough, you can see the scratch marks across the statue’s face where the other goddesses spent time sharpening their claws.

          Uh-oh.

More deadly than a hand grenade full of rusty shrapnel, we can only imagine how silent the crowd became when the girlish giggles stopped between the three women and the bickering began. Needless to say, each goddess found themselves to be the rightful recipient of the apple. Besides, Hera was queen of the gods, Athena was the wisest, and Aphrodite was the most beautiful! There was no doubt in each of their minds that they were the one to receive it, however, they decided that they’d go ahead and let someone else decide.  Knowing far better to open his mouth, Zeus refused to touch that pit of vipers with a ten foot bolt of lightning (no wonder he was King of the gods) and told them to go choose someone else.  Unable to put the squabble behind them, the three goddesses finally turned to a rather handsome mortal man to make the final (and rather fatal, if you ask me,) decision. Stupid enough to actually open his mouth, the guy (from here on known only as ‘the dolt’) said ‘okay’ to the gig.

Now, if there’s one thing you should know about Greek gods, know this: they never play fair. Heck, even the bride at this glorious wedding was forced into it just because she decided to turn down Zeus’ offer to become another one of his mistresses. (I can only assume that she was a smart woman, as I don’t think getting anywhere near the husband of the spiteful Hera bodes well for any woman. Ever.)  Annnywho, each of the goddesses decided they were going to bribe the dolt with gifts they felt were befitting and inside their power to grant.

Hera promised that he could be king of all men if he chose her, a real ruler of the lands. Athena promised him victory in war as long as he lived! Finally, Aphrodite promised him something she thought he simply couldn’t refuse: the hand of the most beautiful mortal woman in all of Greece. Of course, befitting of his nickname here, the dolt chose the gal. While everyone around him was probably groaning louder than an ignored crowd on an episode of Who Wants to Be A Millionare, at least the tense and terrible ordeal was over….right?

Wrong.

Oh, the girl was beautiful, alright. Aphrodite had given the dolt one winner of a woman. However, the funny thing about that gal is that she, unfortunately for many, many people, happened to be already married (something the goddess failed to mention completely). Not only was she already married, but to a rather powerful guy at that. Therefore, when the dolt abducted her in order to take her as his own wife, you can imagine it started a teeny little fight. Just a little one. The common name for this little ditty?

Wooden Horse

Big giveaway

The Trojan War.

So, after my long short story, you can see why I found a golden apple being a present given out for Valentine’s day to be a rather hilarious one. Even if it happens to be just some golden tin foil slapped around a crappy apple shaped shell, the story is there behind it to make it a rather funny symbol that I thought I’d share with you.  If you’re interested in the actual story, you can check up on it here.

Here’s looking forwards to  D V-Day, folks,

P.  

Personification

Personification

Personification

That light.
That God. Damned. Light
Everyday, it sees me coming and,
right at the last minute,
turns red. Every time!
I swear.

And the the weather, the air
Chilling only the days
when I’m working,
or raining when it obviously
knows there’s something
I wanna do out there.

Then there’s my car,
that useless piece of junk,
gives me hell on when I don’t need it to,
and breaks down when my bonus
finally comes through.

And then there’s life, that bastard-
Always against me, like fate.
Unforgiving, unyielding,
and straight up unfair.

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Monday again, Folks. I’m hoping that yours is working well for you. Got a little something else for you to browse if you’re needing a break, too. http://www.pinterest.com/Procrastitorian/make-monday-a-little-easier/

The Honest Truth

The Honest Truth

The Honest Truth

To hell with it-

I got through four lines
five different meters and
still thought it read
like shit

So I crumpled up the paper and
deleted it off the page
struck the words from my mind
and then bitched about
my age

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Do I really need an explanation for this one, folks? I mean, I should have known it would be a Monday poem that gave me such hell. I had it all there, I swear and then it just sort of lingered and taunted me. Still, there’s always some good even for some really annoyingly bad work- the first title of collected work I am putting together will be titled Let’s Be Honest With Each Other. Why? Because I don’t want my first work to have some snazzy title or some pretty name ’cause, as you all might have noticed, that doesn’t seem to fit me very well and if there’s one thing I value in this world, it’s being genuine. Figured I might as well be myself if I am going to throw my writing out there for mass consumption.

Anywho, well here’s to hoping (as always) that your day flies by and that you’ve got something and on the rocks waiting for you when you get home tonight.

Writing Rhymes

type writer keys

Writing Rhymes

What matters most is a tough one,
but what simply means something I find easy.
I locate a species wide norm and nominate it
before I begin delving in colloquially

Add in a dash of borrowed wit and give it a
little kick of my smart aleck and snide chime
and, folks, you’ve got yourself the makings of
a good ol’ fashioned rhyme.

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It’s true. That right there is my formula for sitting down and writing poems. Well, at least ones I post on here, at least. It’s short, simple, and too the point; basically it’s me in written form. Anywho, today is just a short one  that describes how I get things done and keep them moving along, even when my brain wants to call it quits or my muse refuses to reschedule his hair appointment. Here’s to still hoping that your week is going by quickly and that Friday feels just on the horizon!

When It Rains…

woman sitting with head in hands

When It Rains…

it pours. And a million times a million problems follow, creeping, slithering, and whispering until each nagging obligation seeps into your ears and becomes a roar that you swear will tear your head in two if just one more thing, if just one more, turns its black decaying, decrepit claws to you, begging with open hands to be dealt with, crying with gaping maws of mediocre malevolence, each issue immaterial but in your mind as solid as cement and yet, these beasts of beckoning are as easy to shatter as glass, and if you turn to face them, or if for help you ask, you find them nothing more than nagging shades that stand silent in the presence of determination and, when faced by responsibility, as if  made imaginary by the anti-material of which they are made, why, in the face of a responsible soul, this army of malingering creatures and each and every problem that rears its ugly face, they do simply what they do best-

they just fade.

 

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So, this one look a little odd to you? Yeah, it might. I happened to be forced onto my tablet because, in the middle of my last two weeks of class while final projects are coming up and I need to access critical information stored for an interview, my PC has taken to giving me the cold shoulder and refuses to turn on. Was it something I said? Did it feel used? Is this its way of saying that it needs space? Either way, when it rains, it pours and up above is a completely raw poem. That is, by the way, how most of my poems start. I either scrawl them on the white board or just start typing like a mad woman till it all comes out and, well, that is exactly what you see above.

Anywho, needless to say I might be missing a few crucial documents. You know, insignificant ones like my poem notes and all DBA text. A.k.a. that poem came directly from my fuming, but dealing with accordingly, heart. Enjoy and I hope your week is far better than the one I’ve been having!

 

 

Death or Taxes

man jumping from cliff

Death or Taxes

Death and taxes,
as sure as Mondays and
madness, the two sunderers
of men and yet a bypass
can be practiced.

I propose death OR taxes
a surly ultimatum,
I suggest playing Russian
roulette with the rules,
digging around in Schrödinger’s
sandbox without medication,
placing hand-grenades in
the place of party pinatas,
and dancing off cliffs
without all the ropes to bother!

So hang all the rules,
and choose the less traveled
of two options, grab
the nearest pair of scissors
and take off through the office!

Jump over  the chairs and take
a sprinting leap for the windows,
common now, who’s with me? We’ll-
what, no takers?

Hmm, well can I say?
Courage like this takes practice,
now back to your screens,
you yellow stiffs,
and finish up those taxes.

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Happy Monday and Tax day….Wow. That’s a bit of overkill, don’t you think? Either way, here is a little post to commemorate the wonderfully annoying parts of today. It’s a bit of a crude rhyme, bit it was too fun to pass up.  Hope you enjoy!

Awesome Picture: Derek J by Phil Watt

Pessimist’s Spring

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Pessimist’s Spring

A thunder clap
slapped me right outta
bed, and the light I left on
had an entire ecosystem
swarming ’round it.

Then morning came
and my eyes swelled shut,
I sneezed, hacked, and a
damned lung nearly came up.

Suddenly the neighbor’s noisey
offspring went screaming down
the street, and it sent me
to thinking that there’s
a million and one other reasons
why I dread the spring.

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Thanks to evah for the awesome pic above! Pessimist’s Spring is a work in progress, but I wanted to get the idea posted and out there as I think it’s good enough for a small smile. I do feel some of the things the speaker has to say, which is a bit inspiration for the poem. Though I like seeing the sun again, I do rather miss Fall and Winter as I feel they are far to brief!

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