Best Cleanest Poems
I am writing to you because I know you have a wish.
I have been thinking diligently about your wish. It is not
going to be easy but I think it can be done. First I am going
to break down your overall wish into many smaller wishes.
I want you to get that electric car you always wanted. That huge
backyard protected from unwanted visitors. I know you have a love
for life...do you remember when you told me - You should never eat
anything that once had a heart. I miss all those organic vegetables,
fruits, growing foods you use to treat me to.
I want you to be able to see the stars at night not hidden by the
crud in the air. Enjoy a sunset free of gaseous neon colors. Rid
the world of killing machines. Did you know there are weapons now
can kill hundreds in a few minutes, I know it would break your heart
to watch.
Than I want you to fill your lungs in the cleanest of air plumped up
with an abundance of oxygen. Drink from the oceans, lakes, rivers,
bays fresh thirst quenching water. Can you imagine all water life
free of cancerous tumors, fishies free of disease but I am off on
a tangent. I want you to play in the rain without fear. Have you
heard of acid rain?
I want you to get each and every single wish that I mention.
Delivered to you by the most gentle of breezes. In the frozen
fingers of the icebergs. Some in the whirlwind motion of the
smallest of tornadoes. Others through the hairline cracks of
the best behaved of all earthquakes.
I love you with all my heart. I know so many have changed
without remorse. They are so busy looking for the pot of
gold at the end of the rainbow they no longer notice the rainbow.
So many wishes you yearn.
I wish for you mother, at the very least your children would
stop raping you, sodomising you. Mother Earth we your children,
us the humans live here by your grace...well my wish for you
mother is that your children would stop all the denial, all the
arguments, the rationalizations...we have all the excuses for
what we do to you. I wish what you wish mother. I wish your
children would show you the respect you deserve. Just that
no more, no less.
Love, Always
Maurice
20~12~2014
Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst
Contest Name: My Wish For You
Categories:
cleanest, love,
Form:
Narrative
I know that I’m not perfect, just go and ask me wife.
At times she’s kind of said - I’m the bane of her life,
but on her better days she wouldn’t trade me for a thing,
and sometimes she has even thanked me for the ring.
Sometimes I overlook a mite and pile clothes on the floor;
leave a beer can in the lounge room or forget to shut a draw.
The toilet seat might be left up; grease in the bathroom sink,
and of course I cop a barrage - “Don’t you ever bloody think!”
I put up a slight defence I s’pose to save me on the skids,
I reminded her I’m not as bad as either of our kids,
but remarks like that cause suffering; the vote goes three to one,
so I had to do some crawling for the damage that I done.
The crawling that I had to do is behind their Mother’s back,
but once again a big mistake saw her leading an attack.
In a request for gaining brownie points I should have chose a cat,
but the kids insist they wanted me - to buy them a pet rat.
We snuck this rat into the shed and they both named it Brad,
but our female ‘Sergeant Major’ went completely bloody mad.
She really stuck the boots in; especially into me …
making promise of a firing squad if neglect soon came to be.
But both the kids then promised to satisfy their Mother’s rage,
that Brad will be looked after; well fed in the cleanest cage.
They pampered Brad for two months - treated like a king,
then the novelty wore off - Mum was doing everything.
So at the dinner table Mum declared she’d had enough.
Maintaining to our children that it has got too tough.
He’s too much work for one and because that one is me,
he’s going to have to leave and the kids did half agree.
Then Mother added furthermore, “I’m sick of his daily mess,
and right now I note he’s eating, and drinking to excess.”
Me eldest boy then quietly spoke, by adding “Mum you’re right,
if he didn’t eat and drink so much, he could stay is that right?”
Mum responded firmly, “Correct, he could stay for evermore,
if he had used better manners and cleaned his mess off the floor,
now go to the shed and grab the cage, and in the car put Brad …”
“Brad!” Me youngest ‘fella’ bawled - “We thought you said Dad.”
Categories:
cleanest, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
I stood in the corner with stars in my eyes,
such magical thoughts on display
A poetic verse coming as no surprise,
It's funny the things I might say
While counting each petal I pulled from a rose
and leaving the mess far behind
I reached to the heavens, the tip of my toes
for something that fell from my mind
With sparkles and sprinkles in colors so bright
to carry the less of the load
So tied up in knots that were pulled ever tight
and scattered about on the road
I pulled out my pen and the cleanest white sheet,
a canvas of paper in hand
To write down these thoughts if we ever should meet,
just hoping you would understand
I folded it neatly and tucked it inside,
then scanned every face in the crowd
When spying such beauty, you just couldn't hide,
my heart started beating quite loud
I summoned the courage and called out your name,
your smile it grew ear to ear
You ran through the people, I just can't explain
that something so special was near
I loved you forever but that time has gone,
still you were my wonderful dream
With every sunset and every dawn,
your beauty a part of my scene
You grabbed me and kissed me with stars in your eyes,
just hoping my thoughts I had penned
I gave you the poem so you'd realize,
I'll love you forever again
Categories:
cleanest, love, poetry,
Form:
Rhyme
"This might be of no value to your instinct though,
Losing my presence might cause your flesh nothing,
Basically to the wisdom surrounding this lost age.
But speculatively would hurt the cleanest and sacred spirit willing to direct you.
I need you every hour in my arms.
Just for you to feel the touch of my hand in a convincing state.
The weakest part of your heart will I dwell,
And the fragile center of your mind would I lay myself.
Getting you saturated is the utmost concern of my divinity,
Where I come from shouldn't be the unfortunate causative of your doubt.
Light is what you need through to the darkest night,even after a transition to a new world of uncertainty.
I wish you had the key to the highest level of picturing me.
Don't call this point a fallacy.
I never put a dime on limiting you.
Even when you're naked in my room,
The best thing even to take place would be a journey back to where you came from.
I mean you coming out of my own image and residing with me.
Wherever you heading towards is never to be deemed by self-accumulated luck.
My grace is sufficient for you,
So I wish you could make the best decision out of my rhapsody.
For your greatest life guarantee is maximised indefinitely within my words.
I'm loving you forever and don't wish you do same on compulsion.
But be vigilante my precious sheep among my flocks,
So you don't fall from my tender heart...",
This is the voice of JEHOVAH!
©walkingshoes
Categories:
cleanest, devotion, love,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
Stung with the absence of his father, he excruciatingly rumbled deep inside of his mother’s womb.
He stormed out already filled with disappointing void.
The mother’s joy was of uncertainty.
Memories of her husband, flashed back right in her face once again.
She could feel the exhaustion of a lifetime encircled around her and the weight and magnanimity of raising the beautiful baby on her own.
Two years creeped by and the bond between them was legendary.
The love was so constant and consistent, like the sun will rise.
Their friendship thrived through the encroached stormy desert.
Her wings unfolded like an angel, extraordinarily patient as a lion hunting.
The fondness between them was as phenomenal as THE SERPENT GOD at chichen Itza, that he was unceremoniously detached from her.
A devastation of a 4-5 year old separation to a foreign land, felt like an erupted-never-ending-volcanic-nightmare.
The purpose of that crushing disconnection, was feeble.
he was starved off of food, shelter and raiment.
Apportioned milk from animals became the only privilege given.
The purest and cleanest form of consumed water, was of a residual of donkeys streamed through the shin of an old dirty black slave man.
An occasional feasting on birds, caught through invented-trapping.
With innocence, he’ll apathetically rip the head, feathers of the little creatures with bare hands, bury them in the sand of the mountain top desert, hours later, it’s BEANO.
He was deprived of even just a glimpse of his family for all those years, he wimped in loneliness.
And on a dark frightful night, came the growl of the famous fox, but he survived.
Life is fickle and comes without no warning and can’t be anticipated.
Survival can not be measured by *echoes* of preventions, it is destined and destiny is not always a gift.
The tale unfolds in hardship, a narrative woven through the threads of resilience and survival. The bond between mother and child, tested by separation, echoes the unpredictable journey of life—a journey marked by both strength and vulnerability.
Categories:
cleanest, hurt,
Form:
Narrative
You chose me off the the thorny pine lake
And gently place me on a rocking rack,
I could breathe the cleanest air above the pile of pineapples
You took me off the rack showed me an easy way to go
Made me like the water made me flow,
And i was the sweetest fruit for the thirsty and of bitter taste
You made my life a happy song
And took the spikes off my chest
You made me fly and diffuse my wisdom and then every one followed
They took me by their mouth and made for themselves freedom
Freed themselves from stunting,
Muscled up and helped others cross the street
They grew up to raise kids by pineapple juice and moral feet
Then i knew i was nutritious
I had made the society conscious
Because you made me first into that pineapple,
And my juice i serve to Gods people.
(in many ways those moral teachings
of the bible makes us as human as we should be,
they are all a different fruit to us)- Lucas-
Categories:
cleanest, inspirational, me, fruit, me,
Form:
Free verse
Hey Mr Doggy, you are as tall as me
I am doing you a favour, stand still and you will see
I am going to wash and dry you, and make you smell so nice
Because at the minute, you smell like my dead mice.
Mummy told me off when; I washed my mice in the bath
I thought they would like a swim, but that idea was naff.
She told me not to bathe things that are smaller than me
So I am going to wash you, you will like it, just wait and see.
You have curly hair; I want to brush it out
Mummy uses conditioner on me, so it doesn’t make me shout
I haven’t got conditioner so I am using some stuff I found
It doesn’t look too bad, and it only cost a pound.
Please let me scrub you now, as I am not in a rush
I already washed daddy’s car, I found a wire brush
It’s made some pretty silver lines and he will just love them
Some look like flowers, on a very long stem.
I have my bucket of water; I found the water in the loo
So don’t worry please Mr Doggy, I know it looks all blue
You will be the cleanest dog, anyone ever saw
And mummy won’t be mad, when she sees my messy floor
I didn’t mean to do it but when the fish wanted to play
I thought they might like a walk as it is a sunny day
It took me ages to catch them, the silly little fish
And they weren’t very happy when I left them in that dish
They didn’t seem to like it when I took them from the tank
And when they went to sleep, they began to smell quite rank
I tried to put them back but when I dropped them in
I fell and pulled the tank off and it didn’t half make a din
So now I am cleaning up, everything I see
And I know mummy and daddy will be pleased with me
So Mr Doggy, please stand still and let me get you clean
I even have some paste that says your teeth will gleam.
© 12/06/2013
Contest Entry: Little Lad and Big Dog
Categories:
cleanest, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
Society claims...that we are in a economic tsunami,
but I swear it's not affecting me.
I'm hungry...I metamorph into the money monster.
I gets money 24hrs & seven days a week.
Ppl be sleep, but I be up at the crack of dawn.
Visualizing this money...getting it...
engulfing it in my palms!
Having qualms about being broke & one of the misfortunate ones.
Cuz, a fool & his money will depart an that's a promise from the book of Psalms.
I have no pity for ppl, cuz your decisions today will be your out come tomorrow.
So, if you accumulating cash: stacking it...investing it wisely: you want have to beg & borrow!
But once again...I...Gets...Money!
See, you have to understand the ***** psychosis which is similar to the cricket syndrome.
Claiming that he's balling, but in reality he's really crawling: self destruction on his own.
Sure he want the big house, all the money, & all the leeches!
But, don't nothing come to a sleeper, but a dream.
Ain't you tired of dreaming & wishing?
But once again...You...Gets...Nothing! It's part of my repertoire to be the cleanest individual in the crowd. Females going wild cuz they can smell the money scent from a mile.
The apotheosis of a winner is the true essence of a Black Man like me.
I can't be duplicated...dam shol not imitated, so please take heed... I...Gets...Money!...
Categories:
cleanest, money,
Form:
Idyll (Idyl)
I'm not sure what God sprayed
Smells like angel - scent
While raindrops falling, an aroma detected
Light - fresh smell of earth
That captive my senses
Emotions, desires, leading me everywhere
Evokes memories of joy and laughter
Feels like in a bed of roses
A "FLORAL SCENT", light, pleasant and feminine
Or in a green pasture
Blends with leaves and herbs
A "NATURE - INSPIRED SCENT", relaxing and great
Am I in a deep sea?
Smells refreshing and zingy; an "AQUATIC SCENT" hit me
Think its "CITRUS SCENT", cut oranges and lemon tangy
Enchanting - elusive, an "ORIENTAL SCENT"
Sensual, irresistible, warm and passionate
Something sweet as honey, my dear "VANILLA SCENT"
Seems I'm dressed with perfumes all around
Affordable, impressive and the cleanest of all
Now catching all the raindrops, I will not let it pass
The fragrance of rain to sniff all day.
The Fragrance of Rain - Contest
- Arden H. Gopela
November 16, 2013
Sponsored by: Nette Onclaud
Categories:
cleanest, beauty, rain, senses,
Form:
Free verse
“HANDS ACROSS THE WATER, HANDS ACROSS THE SKY”
I sit on the cleanest
side of the house,
from 9 in the morning
until 11 at night.
cigarette smoke fills
my chest as I move
through new messages
in my phone.
it’s the simplest of
pleasures.
however, the greatest
agony when I have no
fire or charge in my
battery.
for seven years, I was
a child of the life
I avoided for so long.
if it hadn’t been for
my son, I would’ve left
this city long ago.
I would’ve left the whore
long ago, but I didn’t
and it gave me the
heaviest of subject matter
to write about. with the
exception of my son, that
was the only thing that
kept the demons confused.
I kept my insanity inside,
as I once read, “A good
father leaves his self-
destructive ********
at the door.” I took
pride in not letting my
**** with her get in the way
of what I had to do.
now, it is the very thing
that has brought me to
write this poem. you
can see the steam from
my blood when I bleed,
you can feel the anger
from the pain the whore
had caused and yet,
I can only laugh as love
has made a fool of me
yet again. we stood tall
and proud only to fall
short and lie in our shame.
this by far is the kernel
of destruction for anything
in life. I run my hands
across the water and wave
my hands across the sky.
I fall to the grass and
each time, the sky is
still blue.
By: Chicano
8-27-2016
Categories:
cleanest, anger, city, leaving, life,
Form:
Free verse
Cup does runneth
over, rhyme inside'a
me at last, was
barren and so
empty til inside
there drops a
splash,
of rich poetic
potions mixed with
collard greens and
hash, let's picture
hours after the
economy has
crashed.
The whole world
saw it coming on
our back;
impending doom,
so don't believe the
newsroom talk of
how it's ending
soon,
it's not just pipin hot
it's burnin 3 degrees
from noon, but won't
be real until you
hear this nation
sing the blues.
We'd lose the
government's
assistance, it would
be no joke, the
unemployment,
welfare food stamps
gone, there'd be no
hope,
come slice this
mental Wonder
bread then sit and
eat a loaf, there
wouldn't be much
growth around at all
to feed the folks.
The homeless
though do lay their
heads by where I
catch the train, the
richest country in
the world can't help
them, that's a
shame,
but multiply the
handful by the
millions that'll hang,
their heads in
shame with no
economy, yo that's
the game.
The President's
approval ratings
dwell where cellars
be, the days
of 'meat for dinner'
gone, no sales on
celery,
and that's for those
of us who're
blessed with God's
defining truth, or go
out like the 30s
where we'd stand in
line for soup.
A real life 'Book Of
Eli', ain't no gas to
run the cars, your
feet would beat
retreats in cold and
heat to run you far,
in fact if the
economy did end
up true deceased, I
guarantee you'd find
those selling kids
for food to eat.
The loss of all
morality heats up
like yellow sand, to
witness inhumanity
defeat your fellow
man,
brutality and
savag'ry would grip
this very land, to
have the cleanest
water or a bit of
DairyLand.
It then would turn to
war amidst the
races and the
creeds, Apollo died
while boxing, folks
like that are safe
and free,
majority's priority,
minorities would fall, they'd
light us up Paul Mall
in other words they'd bomb
us all.
Scenarios are
worse case but I'm
not that wrong at
all, so fellas stuffing
dollars in the
thongest of the
draws,
and ladies who just
live to go and ball
out at the mall,
enjoy it, stand up
tall and pray to God
it all don't fall.
Categories:
cleanest, politicalworld, food,
Form:
Rhyme
I always wondered where the dirt came from, cleaning had me in a rut.
I don’t allow shoes inside, and with air conditioning, I keep the windows shut.
My mother said it came from dirt goblins, they’re lovers of dirt and smut.
And Goblins love to play. Strewing dirt about, as around they strut.
They invite their friends, and then leave us with lint, fluff, and a dusty glut.
I finally put nightlights in the bedroom’s to keep them out, I’d had enough!
The dirt goblins come in from the outside, they live among the shadows.
They make their homes under the beds, behind boxes, or in the darkest hallows.
They track the dirt everywhere. Yesterday, I even found some candle tallow!
They follow your pet to gather their hair, the perfect nest to burrow.
If you aren’t quick at this point, with little dirt goblins you’ll be blessed tomorrow.
We don’t fight or make them mad. My husband handles them without sorrow.
My fearless husband invites them down to the friendly basement below.
He’s very good as he talks and becomes their friends, you know
They’re lonely and want to play, so he makes promises, to help them go.
Then he opens a box full of gifts, from the vacuum bag he bestows.
He tells them of the neighborhood, as he makes a map full of important info.
Then he releases them into the back yard, on this mission he quietly tiptoes.
Everyone wonders what he doing with the boxes in the yard he lays about.
He’s sneaking them out into the yard, with directions given to the goblin scout.
My house is becoming cleaner, as the goblins slowly continue to move out.
Pretty soon we’ll have the cleanest house in the neighborhood, throughout.
If they come back, we’ll send them to the other neighbors, as our gifts give us
clout.
And as for the boxes, beyond any doubt we’ll never let that secret out.
Written 5-18-2011
Categories:
cleanest, adventure, fantasy, house, husband,
Form:
Rhyme
like sparrows on the streets and in caves
consider how they swoop and dive
and fatten on dusty pizza crumbs
consider the raccoons how they squawk and squalor
peck and fight for space to grow fat gray hairs
and live as a family in the wild consider them
consider the homeless man on East Euclid dragging
Giant-Eagle cart on the sidewalk every hour
with rags searching through litterbins for a meal
consider the hare the rabbit the crow and ants
with no pay stubs yet with no long days of boredom
and they lie in cleanest beds and smile at dinner times
then consider me after the gavel and the long sentence
living with cancelled checks crying over lost purpose
scarred of sirens and hunting shelters for meals
consider me sleeping in fields with dead numbers
consider me whose far-distant ancestors never crashed
in any trash but drank coffee with Carnegie on his birthday
consider me coming out of institutions that mark me forever
with a bindi that blocks my name from the list of humans
and to live I have to peep through thorn bushes and grunt
Categories:
cleanest, abuse, courage, dark, depression,
Form:
Didactic
Passed down to me from my dear mother,
this cleaning bug even bit my brother.
I spent many hours doing house chores.
The need to clean, we could not ignore.
I always felt such satisfaction,
my friends all thought a strange reaction,
to suck up dust bunnies brought such joy.
A brand new mop was better than a toy.
When my brother and I felt the need to compete,
we would clean out our closets, win went to most neat.
And when I was a teen without a date,
I scrubbed bathroom tiles 'til the hour got late.
Dear fellow poets, I have a confession.
For a certain bald man, I had quite an obsession.
Many long nights, he and I danced,
the hum of the vacuum, our song of romance.
As I grew older, the neat freak contest ensued.
The need to be cleanest, a relentless pursuit.
The only person I competed with was me.
Now, with a messy four-year-old, I have set myself free.
This cleaning contest was only bringing me strife.
No longer competing, I'm now living my life.
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, February 27, 2012
for the Contest contest ( Joe Flach)
Seventh Place
Categories:
cleanest, family, funny, on work
Form:
Rhyme
sunshine heals me through the mirror
moonlight heals me through the window
the united luminescence blesses me through constant reminders
i find activity and its new stories through you
radiance fills the void that was once overwhelmed by parasitic loneliness
effervescence fills the void that was previously overtaken by the stalest of air
upliftment fills the void that was earlier overthrown by merciless and intentional discouragement
i find contentment and its newfound discoveries through you
you are a True Gift from God in the form of the cleanest and the most Miraculous Water
as a result, i grow in continuance and become more profound and complex
it makes me so proud to express each mention and each thought of You as a Proper Noun
you are like the ex lax for my constipated emotions and the ginseng for my slumbered brain
sunshine heals me through the mirror
moonlight heals me through the window
the united luminescence blesses me through constant reminders
i find the Better Half of Who I Am through You....
Categories:
cleanest, dedication, love, thank you,
Form:
Free verse