Best Mopping Poems
The day started badly as I had a bat flattery on my vodge diper
It was roaring with pain when I arrived at the par cark at the mall
Went to put my bopping in the shoot and I turned into a bowel feast
I’d had a blushing crow… there was a rent in the dear
It had been hit by a bunken drum - I was mopping had!
He tried to apologise but was whiring his slords
I got out my phobile moan and a policeman cook my tall
He arrived at the mall in his canda par at the lead of spite
After my lad buck I went home to tell dumb and mad
Dad teased my ears, said I could use the buttle shush until it was mended
Contest: Spoonerisms Sponsored by Roy Jerden
02~29~16
Categories:
mopping, car, humorous,
Form:
Free verse
This morning I went shopping
Tripped over, started hopping
My milk bottle it went slopping
The store cleaner began mopping
I hobbled out of the store
Got caught in the sliding door
Lost my wallet and now I’m poor
I really can’t take anymore
Then I fell on to my knees
Dropped my bag and my car keys
Gave out a massive sneeze
And then began to wheeze
I found my red sports car
The door it was ajar
They’d stolen my Snickers bar
It really was quite bizarre
I jumped behind the wheel
I began to shout and squeal
Why my Snickers did they steal -
It really was quite surreal
My shopping trip was tough
I was feeling pretty rough
I drove off in a huff –
I’d really had enough
Had an ache in my poor old head
Drove home and went to bed
Shopping trip left me half dead …
Will opt for home delivery instead!
I thought I’d pen a rhyme
With words that are sublime
I hope this one is fine
And in the list will shine
05~28~15
Contest:- Rhyme Time
Sponsor:- Pendleton Arkwright
Categories:
mopping, humorous,
Form:
Rhyme
Demon in disguise with captivating dark-brown eyes,
He is gentle and focused, for you are his prize.
Hypnotic smile across his lips, with thrust of hips and eloquence,
He has broken your defence with confidence.
His trophy, your heart, he has won!
Candlelit dinners, flowers, romance
Passionate sex, holidays in the sun
Rings on the fingers you are now one.
Traditional promise and a couple of kids
It's all that matters, they have first dibs
A home, a car, and a dog,
Your life has begun as one hard slog.
Welcome to your life's routine
You are no longer sixteen
Are you still his queen?
What evil will his time bring?
Compliments ushered out the door
What are you thinking mopping the floor
Wiping up vomit, stumbling over toys
Is this what life is with all its joys?
What evil promise did his time bring?
Sex is a job, no longer a pleasure,
Your kids are precious your life's treasure,
He is always late, arrogant and rude,
You thought it was your fault for being such a prude.
So you take a few drinks to feel better,
While is off on business like a trend setter.
He is always failing at what he does,
You have lost it, the incredible buzz.
Venomous insults, frequent and rapid they leak
Like a demon possessed allow him to speak
Scarlet embarrassment paints your cheeks,
He has become an uncontrollable freak.
When the kids get older you promise to leave,
In order to feel better, your lie you believe,
you think he will change? are you so naive?
It is only yourself you begin to deceive.
A few nightly slaps, and a couple of bruises,
When for no reason his temper he loses.
The demon in disguise has brought about a promise of hell.
Nowhere to run to, no one to tell.
Categories:
mopping, abuse, betrayal, bullying, family,
Form:
Rhyme
Horace the tortoise was ready to dine
He ordered his food, while the waiter poured wine
They bought the first course, (a huge bowl of soup)
But, the bowl had a rabbit who was swimming in loops!!
"Oh waiter! Come quickly!"..."There's a hare in my soup!!"
And soon other patrons, had circled in groups
Their eyes were astonished, as that hare took a swim
splashing the broth, and wearing a grin
"This is disgusting"!! "Oh my! A disgrace!!"
"It's that same rascal rabbit...from yesterday's race!!"
He is out for revenge! Now he's slurping my food
"He's that same trouble maker....who is up to no good!
"Help! Call the management! Please call the cops!"
"He's doing a backstroke while splashing a lot,...
Can't you see how he's slopped all my soup from the pot?"
Tired of swimming, we watched how he hopped right
out of the soup bowl without mopping up
He jumped from the table, and down to the floor
grabbing the salad, and hopped out the door!
Leaving a puddle, without looking back,
while leaving the tortoise just holding the check!
Categories:
mopping, funny,
Form:
Couplet
I have seen them stand outside my door,
pleading mother to help stage their show,
on our verandah with stony floor,
tattered clothes, hungry child, wife on tow!
dusty robes speak of miles he walked,
two woven baskets on wooden yoke,
usual wares with which he embarked,
a venomous trade to feed his folks!
with widened eyes I saw him sit down,
his sweat pouring down in summer heat,
mopping face and brow with long sleeved gown,
asks favour of water, food to eat!
rested and nourished his show is on,
a crowd of urchins get a free peep,
melody like from an old car horn,
he blows sharp and sweet but yet so deep.
speckled cobra nearly five feet long,
rocks in anger with an open hood,
heat of summer is no time for song,
disturbed from slumber, how very rude!
As child was overawed by his skills,
such deadly snakes controlled by his Been*,
there is tragedy behind each thrill,
truth of life, often hidden unseen!
snake charmer’s life is twin tragedy,
education denied from a child,
for snake it is to be in custody,
to lose their freedom to rule the wild!
let’s solve this tale with education,
help their children go to a good school,
use their skills to help conservation,
so the snakes roam free, the wild to rule!
*Been a musical flute made from a coconut shell used by snake charmers to distract the snake
Premier contest winner (3)
Written 4/01/2021
9 syllables each line except one that has 10 syllables
‘The Snake Charmers’ poetry contest
Kai Michael Neumann sponsored
Categories:
mopping, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Rhyme
BUTTERFLY IN TUTU
Butterfly in tutu, deliriously delusional, bright
with spangles, tapping her wings. All knew
she was cocky with glorified golden teeth.
She followed the cockamamie caterpillar
with his root-tootie-toot-toot flute. Thoughts
of mopping up this contest after that
creepy-crawly performance. Her tutu, in
and out, in and out. Her wings of grace
up and down, up and down impeccable.
but the Operettes were up next - they were stars!
Dusk dimmed butterfly’s oscaring, dark
and darker, the glare of stars fell. The iridescent
tutu turned black, she stubbed her wings,
she spun out and crashed, and the audience
laughed……………………instead of hiding
she took a bow
12/23/2021
“B” Forms
Sponsor: Constance La France
Categories:
mopping, angst, butterfly, fantasy,
Form:
Burlesque
In my kitchen I do see
So many things that do please me
I love eating, cooking, cleaning
My kitchen it has so much meaning
In the kitchen so much joy I find
Beauty treatment comes to mind
And juice of lemon, oatmeal too
Diminishes all that rust for you
Then we have those cleaning things
Vinegar, Bi-Carb, much ease they bring
They do help me such a lot
When it comes to cleaning pots
Then we come to eating, Yum!
It's such a treat to my old Tum
Though sometimes cooking drives me mad
Sometimes it peeves me just a tad
Now I am off to do some shopping
And then return to do some mopping
Categories:
mopping, beauty, food, house, me,
Form:
Sonnet
I'm standing here in limbo as
I see him wander in.
That no townsman has warned him
is truly a mortal sin.
He slides up to the bar and
takes a curious look around.
He orders a shot of whiskey.
No one else has made a sound.
The barman just ignores him
as he has the others here,
and keeps on mopping up the bar
as I try to wipe a tear.
I still have strong emotions
with no way to express them.
I don't know about the others.
They all look like wooden chess men.
When that dying gunman hexed us
with that evil, malevolent curse,
he didn't doom us all to death's call
but with something even worse.
He said we'd stay almost forever,
exactly as we were right then,
until some day, some one would free us.
But he didn't tell us when.
I'm a dance hall girl who hasn't danced
for lo these many years.
I just stay as frightened as I was then
as I try to wipe my tears.
I see the stranger stiffen
as he searches for some cash.
He'll reach for it forever.
The spell has hit him in a flash.
So I know he's not the one
who can break the wicked spell.
We'll keep doing what we're doing,
but I guess its just as well.
For the only one who'll walk out
of this doomed saloon alive,
is the hombre who can break the spell
that keeps us in this dive.
When the spell has been broken
we will all be turned to dust,
and be blown to Earth's corners
with the wind's first heavy gust.
For town of Rotgut contest.
Categories:
mopping, scary,
Form:
Quatrain
I get up each morning,
Seaching through my home,
Looking for dirt and grime,
To me is yet unknown.
I dust and polish,
Mopping on hands and knees,
Wash all my windows
Until I'm throughly pleased.
My reason for my cleanliness,
Isn't for health or pride,
But fear of what you might discover,
If I should suddenly die.
Categories:
mopping, addiction,
Form:
Rhyme
Ever have one of those days
where you just have to get away
from the daily work grind...
where you can just kick back,
relax a little,
and finally unwind,
tomorrow is that day for me
because I took a personal day,
where I'm going to sleep in till noon,
wake up and shower and dress
and watch a little television
if I'm in the mood,
then eat a leisurely lunch
with a lot of crunch,
and savor every bite,
afterwards have a nice dessert,
like some sherbet,
that'll really hit the spot,
then drive to my appt. in town
and get massaged by a masseuse,
go get a manicure and a pedicure,
shop for a new dress,
and go get my hair done by my hair stylist,
later at home check my e-mail
and see whats on the soup,
laugh at some of the funny poems
because they can be so humorous,
read some of the serious ones,
and feel the corners of my mouth suddenly droop,
then after that I'll maybe take a walk
and stroll around the park,
but by then it'll probably be getting late
and the dusk will be turning to dark,
so I'll go home to my family,
and I'll say good night
and go retire for the night,
where I'll go into my sanctuary,
change into my pajamas,
watch some t.v.
and turn off the light,
but I know most if this is just a fantasy,
but it really doesn't matter
since I'm not really into all that glamour
why I'm just your average Josephine,
like a lot of folks just trying to stay afloat
by making ends meet,
Because when I look around
there's 1001 chores to be done,
especially the housework,
where I'll be washing dishes,
feeding the cats, dogs and fishes,
cleaning windowsills,
dusting and vacuuming,
mopping floors,
wiping down doors,
doing the laundry,
and shredding some old bills,
But hey, I'd rather get these mundane
chores out of the way on a Friday,
so then on the weekend
I can do what I want
and go out and have a fun day!
Categories:
mopping, adventure, fantasy, work,
Form:
Light Verse
Joe the janitor,
was working at area 51,
as usual till
there was no more sun,
when suddenly the power went out,
got a flashlight from his janitor cart,
and quickly finished mopping the floor...
Noticing the now unlocked
highly classified door,
knew he shouldn't go in,
but his curiosity did win,
and saw a martian laying there,
when a fly buzzed right past him,
and Joe brought some
canned bug spray in,
where he chased and sprayed
till the fly was no more...
Then the martian opened his
bulging fly like eyes,
and to Joe's surprise,
quickly fled out the door,
where he got in a waiting UFO...
The very next day,
the president came on the air
to say,
"We are now at war with martians,
thanks to a janitor,
who ignited anger,
by spraying one yesterday
with Black Flag bug spray!"
Categories:
mopping, humor, science fiction,
Form:
Light Verse
i remember so well
The scrubbed farmhouse kitchen table
where all activities were held
From eating to colouring in,where jigsaw puzzles were made.
I remember the large open range fire
always burning, am sure it burned for 12 months of the year.
I can still smell the bacon, oh what a wonderful smell
as Mam cooked it on the big range cooker.
At exactly 9 am the farm workers would come in.
Breakfast time, they had been working a few hours already.
Can remember the piles of bacon, eggs and fried bread
Looked like enough to feed fifty not just the five,
the smell still lingers in my nostril
fried bacon, I salivate remembering it.
I laughed when I saw the doorstep chunks of bread
For mopping up young miss they would say to me.
Their plates would be so clean looked unused.
Blue sky, the bleating of the sheep,
Birds flying in formation,
Geese off to the lake for the day.
Only to return at night.
The smell of honeysuckle,
brings back the walks in the lanes
blackberrying in season, the pies and jams
*Mamgu used to make.
Conkers from the mighty tree in the middle of the field.
Mostly the clean smell of the country sticks in my mind
So much for a child to do in safety
You learn at an early age about staying back from machinery
Cos even the most experienced driver can overturn in a field.
Bedtime came and you were so tired you slept,
No tv’s in the bedroom you went to bed to sleep.
Maybe a line or two of a story, tiredness would take over.
Gentle zzzzzzzzs could be heard
As a child in the country it is a joyful time
Freedom, no traffic, healthy food,
Doing things together as a family should.
These idyllic time are firmly written
in indelible ink, in my mind.
* Mamgu - Grandmother
Penned 4 September 2015
Categories:
mopping, family, memory,
Form:
Verse
Summer hath come, May blocked the sun, son, yet I know you read this Jedi
poetry.
Airwaves reek of radiation, reverberation stagnant holds no key.
Here we, hear yee, Kings of Alchemy
everyday, every way, mopping floors like janitors, scientists of style, fluidity.
Yet, have you ever seen "Good Will Hunting?" "How do ya' like 'dem apples!?!"
Faces fraught with pale, we do not understand or yet fully comprehend what it
is being accomplished here.
Still, week after week, we build this small community of ambition through
attrition. We pour out our souls...FOR WHAT? Bickering in this pan, flash
flooding through months supposedly in a drought. But, FOR WHAT"S IT ALL
ABOUT. (or Aboot, for my Canadian brother's and sisters)
I give thanks for your interaction, but will not accept judgment of the few. In
fact, purists, I will address you too, by flying high my middle finger, resisting
the itch to even edit this "worthless excuse for a poem". But I know better
than to pester you much more than that. For I too, need readers, and you're
dropping like flies in protest. Still I say: "You're pissed off, it sure beats
getting pissed on!" Perhaps the world really fades to black when everyone
stops talking of you.
There is not much I believe in firmly as the Universe/Multiverse is a million
white canvases. But I, and I do mean butt-eye believe we are waking up. My
duty involves elimination of the snooze button. If wishes were coffee, I'd stir
the world hot, and see that cups overflow with pure energy. The black veil
over our many nations needs lifted, and it's gonna take full concentration,
positive motivation, and quite possibly myriads meditating.
Amen brothers and sisters!
***
If this piece doesn't resonate, I recommend one week off from television and
or video games to improve clarity. Light becomes clear when dimming what's
dumbing you down.
Categories:
mopping, america, england, seasons, social,
Form:
Epic
Stopped for lunch on our way home from Philly.
All visited restrooms and didn’t dilly.
After consuming our lunch,
in preparation for a long drive,
He, again, dashed to the restroom getting ready to ride.
Emerging from the toilet stall door,
there was his wife in the middle of the floor.
“Aren’t you in the wrong place”, he quizzed,
knowing, of course, she was wrong---again!
“No, I am not,” was her soft reply.
“But how about you, Honey Pie?”
His eyes bulged in disbelief,
no urinals on the walls, no, no, it can’t be!
In the ladies restroom, no, not he!
Suddenly feeling so deathly weak,
Face on fire, he could hardly speak,
“Is, is.. is... there anyone else in this place?”
“I don’t think so”, she replied,
laughing so hard she nearly cried,
“but I don’t know which is redder, your jacket or your face!”
Out the door he bolted in a shameful haste,
“Help me make it without being detected”,
fervently he prayed!!!
Exiting the ladies’ room door---
forget that handwashing chore,
already wet from drenching in cold sweat--
he ran straight into his son’s grimacing face,
who was about to enter the men’s place,
on the opposite side of the foyer.
Wouldn’t you know, the first thing he crooned,
“Dad, what are you doing coming out of the ladies’ restroom?”
His explanation was somewhat short
as this was just no time to cavort.
Out the restaurant door he flew
for fresh air, mopping his brow in a grateful wheeew!
Won Honorable Mention in
Paula Swanson's Contest
"New Contest--The Light Is On, But Nobody Is Home"
June 13, 2010
Categories:
mopping, funny
Form:
Free verse
Excuse me. I seen you standing by wondering if you have a smile that I can borrow.
I mean you never know you might not even be here tomorrow.
I've seen you with drama and all your ex's but dry your eyes they're not nothing but lessons.
God is only molding you to get you ready for your blessing.
But you thinking all guys are the same.
He ain't nothing but different player but its still the same game.
Now how can somebody love you with that mentality and that frown.
You need to smile more because you're to beautiful to be down, not knowing one day a king will catch your crown.
And be willing enough to be like B.O.P and hol' it down.
See now look at that smile, keep your head up and stop living with sorrow because you never know you may not even be here tomorrow.
I know he played you baby girl don't put the blame on yourself, because he threw away a diamond for rock, don't put that blame on yourself.
You're beautiful and smart, that's all facts.
Now you afraid of love and afraid to show it back.
And have this wall built around you but please hear what I'm speaking.
Real NIGGAS will break your heart Real MEN will pick up the pieces.
Cut the ******** aside and make your time worth while.
Do what it takes to make you feel optimistic and to always make you smile.
Is what I've been searching for so stop mopping in sorrow, because you never know you may not even be here tomorrow.
I know he put his hands on you but truth be told he's not a man. It was long storm you went through with a couple scars but be glad.
Out the old in the new.
Any body would be crazy for passing up on you.
A mans hands is used for comfort for a woman's stress.
A man always wants his woman to strive for the best.
Yes.
Those man still exist so smile baby girl.
Have hope and stop living with sorrow, because you never know you may not even be here tomorrow.
Categories:
mopping, abuse, angel, art, beautiful,
Form:
Blank verse