Best New Broom Poems
2009 and the expenses scandal
Made Gordon Brown, the Prime Minister, lament
So John Bercow, was appointed new ‘Speaker’
To be ‘The Commons’ new broom, was his intent
But he was faced, with an unlikely challenge
In his efforts to clean up ‘the house’
For running loose, in his official residence
Was a small, grey, furry, wily mouse
‘The Speaker’s’ efforts to entrap his visitor
All failed, with equal measure
So Sally, his wife, used her ‘Twitter’ account
To seek help on catching the creature
“Eeek, we have a mouse!” she did post
“And under the dish washer it’s run,
It’s Sunday, and the ‘mouse-catcher’s’ day off
Can someone tell me – what can be done?”
“My husband’s been ever so manly
But all of his efforts have failed,
Please can someone come up with a plan
To put this small rodent in jail?”
Suggestions came from near and far,
But all of them failed to succeed
The mouse still evaded the Bercow’s grasp
This led Labour MP, Gordon Prentice, to plead
To ‘The Commons’, “Why not have a resident cat
To rid ‘The House’ of the mouse population?”
But the members said, “No – that’s inhumane
We prefer control over eradication
This ‘House’ has stood for centuries, and,
There’s always been a problem with mice
But to bring in a cat, to kill them all
Well, the voters wouldn’t consider that, nice!
That’s why Parliament employs the ‘mouse-catcher’
To monitor and control the pests
So, until he can catch the Bercow’s mouse,
They’ll just have to live with their uninvited guest!”
No more this verdant sight no more the sound
No more the heart of mist at nature’s dawn
No more victims of constant pressure found
No more the fool of man’s enactment borne.
To worship a foundation so ancient
The last bastion of one’s ancestor
Then one bears scars of prudence so poignant
When complied to appease the molester.
Our Fathers who wove within nature’s loom
So soon eras of memories destroyed
When at the mercy of Europe’s new broom
Leaving many dreams retrenched redeployed.
Hearts and minds linger still at Purple Haze
Ghostly cascades of falling tears amaze!
For all the farmers systematically force from their lands
in a orchestrated albeit subtle way
after the UK joined the European common market 1970's
A Poem about of one of those farms "Purple Haze"
© Harry J Horsman 2011
The dawn of a New Year
Another time to meet head on,
Is this a good omen or do I fear
Now my youth has long gone,
Ablaze within the power shone.
Yet I see a light bestirring
Amongst the doom and gloom,
Freedom of one’s pen columnist averring
When of weaving the literary loom,
Idealistic sweeps the new broom.
© Harry J Horsman 2015
2 Terms Of Political Office
A political leader of a country successfully managed to extend his term of office...
Brings up the question of the wisdom of the previous curb imposed to 2 terms in office....
Bolehland has on record the incredible long tenure of 22 years by Premier Dr Mahathir...
And plans are afoot to restrict succeeding premiers to only 2 terms is service....
2 term may be too short for long term overall development.....
Besides the problem from the surplus of such pensioners ...
And atypical of Bolehland mentality, ad hoc programs will proliferate...
A merry go round of contractors, hangers on for part of the economic pie....
Hohoho...
Too frequent a changing of the guard....
Brings on too many a zealous new broom to sweep the room clean....
Hohoho....
On the other hand, a misguided head at the top....
Even a single term can have dire consequences....
Democratically there should be preventive measures...
To checkmate the slide into mediocrity...
Dr M helmed Bolehland for 22years....
Despite the many shortcomings, those were exemplary years....
Of prosperity, stability and high paced development....
Though with the benefit of hindsight...
Bolehland was tethering towards a gaping abyss...
Created by many policies and practices that have outgrown their noble objectives..
What was once a visionary and innovative initiative to correct a shortcoming....
Becomes a yoke of suffering and abuse once it's objectives are achieved....
Question of the day is when to review and to improve an initiative....
Before misrepresentations and abuses set in to abuse the system....
Then the need for change has to happen, a step back in order to move forwards 2 steps...
The Europeans were pioneers in coming up with parliamentary checks and balances...
But history too bears witness to the many atrocities and disasters they created...
The world wars, the religious crusades, the bullying politics of apartheid and slavery...
All faulted and wreaked by the overwhelming influence of supremacy of race and religion ...
What Bolehland is undergoing, it is nothing new nor revolutionary...
The only positive, we could be on the path to maturity...
All the existing abuses and clamour for better governance....
Could just be manifestations of growing pains of a young democracy...
Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent – 32
Ask them who brought this World to the brink of doom
Why what they say now they didn’t at COP1
Ask them if they can really reverse tides that loom
Ask them why on elections’ eve they turn new broom
Do leaders come of age at fresh twenty-one
Ask them who brought this World to the brink of doom
Ask them why farewell speeches seem studied gloom
Who put in relief the joke on succession
Ask them if they can really reverse tides that loom
Ask them why campaign speeches bloom way from home
What if the next leader’s gun-oil Republican
Ask them who brought this World to the brink of doom
Then ask yourself why some need others to groom
Need other leaders to prove they are Number One
Ask them if they can really reverse tides that loom
Ask them clean energy spells doom for whom
Who stands to gain what greenhouse gases consume
Ask them who brought this World to the brink of doom
Ask them if they can really reverse tides that loom
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
I first noticed a change in Climate,
When my shoes started to outlast their laces,
Which I thought unusual at the time,
As I had come to think of it as an unwritten law,
Probably one of Murphy's,
That shoelaces were never meant to outlast a pair of shoes,
And shoes were built with the shoeshine boy and the shoe mender in mind.
About the time I realized that those rules no longer applied,
I felt the chill in the air,
As a new broom and a new wind were swooping down on us.
But just in case there is time for the change of climate to be reversed,
I take the laces that are now still as good as new,
Out of the shoes, before I consign them to another growing mountain,
That no one is prepared to climb,
And save them in case I come across a pair of shoes,
That will outlast their laces,
And possibly become a link in the chain,
That we can use to pull the world and its climate,
Back on an even keel,
Especially if someone who appreciates shoes that last,
Sees merit in encouraging a mountain of near new laces,
By making deals with charities to create the mountain,
Instead of bringing more new ones onto the market,
And helping speed up a change in climate.
Or alternatively if that does not come about,
My saved shoelaces will make handy ties for the bags of shoes,
I will need to dispose of that are beyond repair.
Either way,
I feel better for having pointed out,
That if we make enough small $1 savings to the good,
We could give the world it's badly needed,
Trillion-dollar makeover,
So we can all make do with smaller waste bins.
Just because we can’t concur
Doesn’t mean we can’t confer
Yes, the world is in a mess
But that don’t make me Rudolph Hess
They state that soon in every street
There’ll be the stomp of booted feet
And yet the misinformed will tweet
“It’s our new world so don’t you bleat.”
It’s, “If you don’t agree with me,
You’ll get such bad publicity
No radio and no TV
We’ll cancel you Immediately.”
Fresh from school their mind is made
Opinions held shall not be swayed
New rules on a whim and prayer
And we must all be there… or square
Has the world gone truly mad?
Half of it is Leningrad
A fellow with a hasselblad
Takes candid shots of next doors dad
He bought a shiny new Suzuki
Seemingly that makes him kooky
He, perhaps I should remind ya…
Should have bought that car from China
In Britain, Lefties won the day
To many people’s great dismay
Still the left are in a lather
Each, a budding Che Guevara
Lenin’s in my sitting room,
And Stalin’s got a brand new broom
While right outside is Kim Jong Un
And Mao Zedong will be here soon
It’s, “I don’t like your point of view
I’ve got a slug of lead for you,”
We’ll tell the paparazzi too
That you’re a nazi in plain view
It’s, “I am neither he nor she…
So don’t you try to label me
Leave that oil beneath the sea
Just bring some from the UAE.”
They preach about reducing bills
With all those very still windmills
“And from the Sun,” they shout out loud
While disregarding thick black cloud
The gullible will state their case,
“We’re gonna save the human race,
Our climate’s gonna make us fry
You must not fly or we will die.”
Some spread the wealth by looting stores
Then drive home in their four by fours
But then some respite; sadly, brief
It’s summer… They’re in Tenerife
New Moon new, new tune
It’s a lovely afternoon
New broom sweeping the town
And spiritual cleansing is scattered all around
The wind is blowing lightly
And the race is running politely
The crowd is out once more
And people are cruising from door to door
A balance crown, a balance gown
The message is circulating around
Sending shock wave all over the town
The women are out in great force
They have just handed in their final divorce
With girted skirts and bodies well assembled
They were determined to end the tumultuous dirt
The Christmas came with a silent storm
And woke me up just before dawn
Spilling water all over the lawn
Soaking rain and complaining men
Too many of them occupied the street
The screaming and the shouting
The cussing and the fighting
They are trying to get out of the bull pen
But they angered the Gods and water suddenly
Came thundering in from heaven
Goods start floating in the street
And their sales were incomplete
A watery Christmas with cuss, cuss
Caused baby Jesus to fuss
Mary rock him gentle in the cradle
And he smiled gentle, and said he is able
The women are out in droves
They are getting ready to shout
The unruly band, the clownish man
But the women were determined to have the upper hand
I have been thinking hard and long
Waiting patiently to sing a new song
New rhythm, new beat
And a brand new shoes on my weary feet
The tide is rolling along, and the minstrel is
getting ready to march with the big band
Everyone lined up to pay their last respect
To a dying man gasping for breath
A sad moment for the throne
And a happy moment for the bluestone
The show is rolling along
and heart of destiny is scattered all over the land
Achilles heel are bruised and his mind is confused
His eyes are growing dim
and blood vessel is full to the brim
The devil is winking his eyes,
And many people start to cry
The heavens is a witness to his occupation
That has caused much confusion in heaven
The Angels could not adore it
And they could not tolerate it
So the God’s made the final decree
And boo the devil straight out of heaven
I think about it deeply
And absorb it completely
The devil is fighting for his life
But the Angels cannot comply.
You came to give me a slap, your arm bent back,
with the back of your hand poised to 'shut my trap.'
I stood to rebuff you with anger, and schoolboy indignation.
How dare you bring reproach when you were so mistaken,
accusing 'scruffy' new boy of a smelly body pong -
because of race? - because you thought his face did not belong?
From Scotland was your reason. I was right that you were wrong.
I hated you then and was removed to a lower set.
Your obituary surprised me. Your father - 'a blacksmith
- and you sniffed, now I remember, quite a bit
-your prominent nose gave the nickname of ‘Punch.'
'A firm disciplinarian', you would brook no pupil's lip.
But I saw you often quietly slip up the hill during lunch
to see your girlfriend in a lay-by, sat waiting for each trip.
"No talking! Line up the desks along this floorboard,” you would boom.
“Do it quietly!" was your shout. “Now tidy up this room!”
You taught maths well and were admired by many, when you retired
- through ill health. “I am the old broom and the place needs a new broom.
It's just that the old broom still knows where some of the dirt is hid."
But especially this: 'He was a big man with presence, smelling badly
of carbolic soap, in need of sartorial assistance,' or so it was said.
when I was young
I was a love song
my smile was merry
my heart, a ripe cherry
my soul was a lyric
eyes filled with wonder and magic
when I was a young bloom
I swept like a new broom
I danced like a free sprite
I ran like a young spirit
I was never a passenger
I lived music like an orchestra
when I was a love song
my words were so strong
my message never wrong
my heart's embrace ever long
my love song was sung
my love story was strung
Now that I’m old
my dreams are on hold
I am a scratched record
Now that my song’s been sold
my heart is a hardened thorn
and all who love to hear me, get torn
Once a man told me of this saying so clear,
That I have noticed comes true every time.
Such a simple saying with a meaning sincere,
Left deep impression on my mind, in my prime,
Just one line and here is what he said to me.
He said, “A new broom always sweeps so clean“.
At first not knowing what he meant in any degree.
In just a little while, I understood what he did mean.
If you have ever swept any floor with a new broom,
Then you know the ease of flowing dirt in those piles.
With an older broom, it takes longer to groom.
Along with it might seem like traveling miles.
Humanity terms it means, a new person works hard,
To prove maybe their worth, in a new position held.
Though after time they seem to fade, playing a card,
Then they seem to fade into the shadows and quelled.
quote " A New Broom always sweeps clean"
A misconception is the tale
That we should dread October's spell
Weird things happen, but do not fear
It only comes but once a year
Cornstalks, lanterns, pumpkin faces
Cloudy nights, and creepy spaces
Mummies hide by light of day
Ghouls in shadows want to play
Ghosts appear to take a peek
Cats put on their black coat sleek
Spider's weave around the room
A wart-nosed witch has brand new broom
Her sideways glance at mirror cracked
Still sneers her ugly image back
The cauldron cleaned with spit and shine
Prepared to hold a drink of slime
With tasty toads and wormy molds
It boils steamy brew that's bold
Graveyards readied, dark with gloom
Bats in belfries wait for doom
No need to dread the harvest moon
All Hallow's Eve is coming soon
They've all worked hard to be prepared
Join the party, IF YOU DARE!!
It's time to take poetry into the war room,
So the world won't go boom.
Spinning with a new loom,
Could save a government which is all doom.
If we can we should take poetry into the Board room,
To head off the next crisis that is about to loom.
And while we are at it let's not forget the school room,
Where we can take away some of the gloom.
The kitchen and bathroom,
Could do with a new broom.
And a better view of the moon from the bedroom,
May help Love again to bloom.
Shiver for Shiva is about.
The made must be undone
the created made to dance
on new flames.
Halloween is due,
all the old souls
will be flying in the night
on new broom sticks.
The days are crushed together,
black-ice has made them
fragile and slippery.
Shiver, for Shiva stamps his foot
on the innocent and the black-hearted
all will be blessed,
for a long winter has come
he will save their eyes
and not allow them to be blinded
by life or death.
just like a message
you turn me on
erring on the side of caution
all i wanted
was your voice
like a teenage dream
you haunt me
all the pathos you can reach
new broom to sweep
long legged candy yet
dancing strictly alone