Best Spic And Span Poems
These days my home is a disaster where no neatness is
mastered. For years I did the spic and span scene for a
spouse who notices only the TV screen and our part alien,
completely annoying teens. I eventually deciphered my
efforts made none of them nicer or wiser.
I realized that to remain a cleanliness and organizer striver
would sooner than later require I take a daily tranquilizer.
In time, I learned my bed was a welcoming desire and the
art of long naps was my perfect mood equalizer. So, why
brood over other family member’s feelings when my own
felt much nicer.
There was a time when dust bunnies reduced me to shame
but, now they’re just fluffy cuties that I individually name.
Whereas I once frequently behaved like a total grump
because all treated our dining table like the local dump,
I now idly ponder when the pile will style a solid ceiling
thump.
Home-nest chores with potential upset tests no longer
interest my new style, but soaking in the tub attracts
my delight worthwhile. My bathroom has become my
private, pampering isle. Magazines to thoroughly savor
tempt me in a dream-flavored pile. Within that little
room I’m managing a pampering cocoon.
Once upon my stress time, I would be cryin’ over clothes
not ironed and family tried neither soothing or inspiring
me. These days my ironing policy is that such is pure folly
and that only washing machine clean attire need be desired.
I no longer grow vacuum sore ‘cause rooms are too trashed
for dirt to hit floors.
I am learning to keep my child-like, spontaneous smile
despite any and all house or family trials. If in this lesson
I succeed, that’s all I really, truly and mostly need. I wish
to live and love centered in a state of relaxed ‘cause that’s
where my spic and span are truly at.
A spic and span barren bed,
soft pillow with blanket spread.
You're tired and bored, all hackneyed.
Ready to sleep, drop down dead.
But...a vigilant mind..alive in dread.
cacophony..chaos..thoughts unsaid.
Another sleepless night ahead?
Head and heart throbs, like burning cigarettes
Broken love haunts, rude taunts and threats.
Throttled throat breathes, playback cassetes.
Silent tears douse, debts and regrets.
There lies the pillow, waiting to get wet.
That pillow.....so much you miss ..
Where Santa hid .....those gifts of bliss.
An angel mom blew goodnight kiss.
The pillow fights of sweet reminisce.
Now all ruffled,.. restless,.. whimpers hiss
Somnolent sombre eyes,
in endless rhythm eulogize..
A Sleepless Lullaby....
Dawn bids night goodbye....
( I Am )
I am a woman of Hispanic descent, I love to read a good book.
My friends say I have a huge heart, and my passion is to cook.
I am a firm believer that respect is earned, by what is given.
Poetry is a release of my heart, and writing it is peaceful living.
I am a woman of christian faith, I believed he died on the cross.
To clean your house spic and span, brush your teeth and floss.
I am in love with my husband, he`s my life and he`s my rock.
The outdoors are my solitude, and I collect lots of clocks.
I am someone that tells the truth, and expects the same in return.
Im very loving and romantic, and my passion and desire can burn.
I am a country girl at heart, I enjoy riding horses and the saddle.
I believe that women should be treated right, you shouldnt have to battle.
Pseudo Criminal
Spic and span
Washing laundry like dirty guacamole cash
In Miami sand..... buried hidden Latin trash
Hurray for the tango so grand
Pseudo criminals holding poetic book
When everyone knows they are the crooks
The underbelly of wrong upbringings
Margaritas tasting as sour as the opera lady singing
Her pimp smiles with undisguised guile
For after dusk he will do as he must
Pseudo criminals lurking with pseudo lusts
Full of their pseudo charms that are sure to disgust
Criminals and cowards share the same dance
Brave with words and at first danger seeping pants
They have convictions in their crimes
Some have even two
Beware the criminals lurking around you
Brought to you by Sesame Street Poetry
Today’s poem was sponsored by the word “Pseudo” and the number “2”
Waves on the rocks
a'crashing
In it human feet go
splashing
And elsewhere in the
swollen river
'gator tails go thrashing
Water may be stagnant
or it may be thus moving
Sometimes softly
dripping
at times forcefully
gushing
In brooks babbling
In streams gurgling
In springs bubbling
In rivers running
From faucets freely
flowing
or from pipes coercingly
spurting
At times noisily sloshing
But in lakes musically
rippling
In it diving and wading
In it refreshing bathing
Or spic and span
cleansing, rinsing
In it slow sailing or
speedy surfing
Fishermen fishing or
busy boating
Ah water, through cracks
seeping
From waterfalls
cascading
As rainwater splattering
From sprinklers
sprinkling.
From hoses spattering
From rooftops streaming.
In whirlpools swiftly
swirling
From taps simply trickling
Elsewhere rushing,
whooshing
Ah yes water is life,
water tis a böon
except when it goes
flooding, drowning
or tsunami sea-quaking!
Then only it becomes a
bane
as it drags dreams and
dreamers
down the drain!
But oughtn't we be
preserving
instead of forever
polluting
This precious liquid so
valuable to life
Oughtn't we be saving?
Instead of negligent
wasting?
Shredded completely, the words of a liar
Your old love poems ignite when tossed in the fire
The blaze attacks swiftly, first singing the edges
Then blackening into ashes, all your false pledges
Your cheating on me actually did me a favor
I now have a freedom and a life I can savor
No more heeding to you and your silly demands
No dinner at 6, no house spic and span
I can sit where I want, I can laugh out loud
Without you to scold me, there’s no little black cloud
Hanging over my head, telling me what to do
No “hurry up stupid,” or “get me my tools”
For I have an inner strength that you didn’t know
A flowerbed of dreams that I plan to sow -
I’m done with your critical analysis
I’m a flaming red poppy, reaching for the sun’s kiss...
2/5/13
Black Eyed Susan
For Gail's "Burning Embers" contest
You no longer see them around, faded into history
Every town had one, had everything under the Sun
Well for that time anyway
The Ma and Pa type, they all had a story
It was a place for general fun
Some even did business on Sunday
Polished hard wood floor, sawdust scattered all around
Big wooden barrel full of peanuts, throw the shell on the floor
No charge, cause they were free
A place where the lost could be free
There was always a welcome mat outside the front door
Out house round back if you had to pee
The butcher, bag boy and counter man were all one
The ladies would leave their shopping list, come back later
He always wore a long white apron, white shirt and tie
He never quit until all the work was done
Free jaw breakers for the kids, throw in an extra tater
He could tell some tales, but never told a lie
Big pot bellied wood burnin stove, always a pot of coffee brewin
Where old timers could sit, whittle and spit
So they knew who was coming in the front door
Everybody knew what everybody was doing
Always spic and span, don't worry about a little grit
The Old General Store, they don't make them like that anymore
Wally Cleans His Room
When he woke up Tuesday, Wally looked around his room.
It really was a mess and so he went to get his broom.
All his cleaning items went into his purple pail,
the dustpan in his right hand, and the dust cloths on his tail.
He hung his clothes up in the closet, placing them just right,
swept and mopped and dusted, and then polished things so bright.
Next was putting all the toys in toy chests where they should be,
When he finished, Wally thought his room was clean as could be.
His bed was made, the pillows fluffed,
the floor was clear of all the stuff.
He thought that he had done enough.
“I am so proud of me.”
Picking up the broom and mop, he tripped and hit the floor,
gave his head a great big whack, his tail caught in the door.
He got up carefully and put his cleaning things away.
“I tidied up my room real nice. Now I can go and play.”
In his lime green studio, he took out all his paint pots.
The last thing that he painted looked like it could use a spot
of color added here and there to make it better yet.
Now it had to sit a while because the paint was wet.
Wally’s glad he cleaned his room ‘cause now it’s spic and span.
The job was easier than he thought it’d be when he began.
He needs to tidy up each day
He’ll keep his bedroom neat that way
He plans to do it on Tuesday
of each and every week.
Revived to pop out as an empty nester
To accompany a newfangled life
Maneuvered all the way for a change of state
I dropped my bags and willed at country’s metropolis.
The heirloom edifices occupying moiety of acreage
Glossy crisscross roads and extended overpass
Spic-and-span subway and the rushy blue line coaches
Voguish three wheeled fares and snuggled DDA flats
Yet an open blue sky and extreme deuce climate.
The forenoon snarl – up and the crowded massed bus
The traffic and the driver’s clapper claw
The border red signal and the busy CP
College bunkers to gates of malls
Unitedly a fussy horologe.
Where educatees hitting lectures and employes cogitating
Schemers contriving at the parliament
Few couples could be sighted antithetic though
And rest chewing the fat.
Republic march at the red fort
And the day break Jama Masjid prayer,
Incised India Gate boswell and
The eventide light show at akshardham.
Elementses unidentified at Qutub Minar
And the muteness dwelled at the lotus temple,
Savaged kingdom at Tuglakabad
And exquisite ambiance of Humayun tomb,
Concisely a grand metropolis
Envied world-wide.
Revived to pop out as an empty nester
To accompany this newfangled life
Maneuvered all the way for a change of state
I dropped my bags and willed at country’s metropolis.
1/16/23
Still rejected
I already did mention
Much is in question
In the end most won't get the message
I'm tired of all this tension
Too much focus on others skin complexions
Never once has this path been effective
Do such fools need a punch or bullet to the midsection?
Meaning is the answer a fist or weapon?
For there to be change for the better it's no myth or legend
When necessary I went beastmode
Crap focused on and important matters vetoed
Can't just solve it with cheat codes
Meanwhile continually heat rose
People fighting each other sometimes using torpedoes
All of this continual s*** seems old
Like the same old stories all these priests told
So fast they reach for a couple tissues
Meanwhile the struggle continues
Still dealing with much more than just trust issues
Lady, don't play me I'm not the one
No need to be on the run
I wanted love
Yet have gotten none
From dawn to dusk
I've had rotten luck
They judge and talk too much
I'm going beyond such
Petty matters, yet can't always rely on a hunch
For far too long was caught and stuck
Still continual odd stuff
So easily people go on the hunt
Quick to cause a lot of funk
A lot assume
While holding a hostile view
Among all these molecules
I've got more trust in a dog then you
If you don't got a clue
There was much marijuana use
I'm an alcoholic who
Spent much time in solitude
Occasionally a brief rendezvous
Meanwhile global conflicts grew
Don't test me or there'll be a sonic boom
All of it being told from an honest view
Watch your moves
Toward danger it's chalked up to
Drying up or rivers ran
Nearly always the bigger man
Ambidextrous, either one is a trigger hand
They never once saw the whole picture damn
They expected it all to be spic and span
Life throwing curveballs, despite what is or isn't planned
I've got much to do, before I kick the can
Meanwhile time keeps ticking, quickly it can hit the fan
I got fired
For being awarded Most Desired
The truth got liared
I got tired by the fact that you are wired
A different way than me
Why can't they clearly see
That I'll make a difference in this world of labels?
This world is like a wifi that has been running on a ticking bomb of jacked up cables
Going thru a relapse of suicidal thots before and after
I hand you flowers of forgive-me-please after a disaster
After a rainstorm comes a rainbow of radiance,
A tragedy in reverse...a miracle cure, a prance dance - enhance my joy with Royal elegance
Loyal me up as soon as I give in to my old ways (that's what's up)
Cuz I've been unfaithful...mhm, truth sincerely hurts
To You, him, and her and I feel like giving up...I'm a filthy cup in the dishwasher, but I will be a spic-and-span cup (it shocks me to know many have given up so easily...I'm a whimpering pup)
I've been acting ungrateful...I'm inside out shirts...
I'm in my doom-gloom dorm,
Keeping warm through it all...I've crashed due to an epic fall or an accidental fantastic fail
I'm an weird, empty Earth worm
Seeping through the wooden floors that are as tough as a well-built wall...you're a tough trail to tread...I'm a message never sent by mail
Got crazy
A lil lazy
Got naturally hazy
Off of hyper wild-child
Inside me - so not mild
For a while, my mind has been piled
With nonsensical, fickle desire of my elevating empire
I am home with my cheesy nachos on my lap while singing "Girl on Fire"
I'm higher than the clouds cuz I'm high off of laughter and bliss...something I cherish and admire
It's cool to be real
It's not legit to be fake
Ah yeah, it's not a big deal
Hit the brake for my sake
Regret nothing
Quit that fussing
You're my everything
Carry on, do your thang
Off you trot
Don't let me Rot
On the spotlight...
Tonight...despite your black and white ways of sparkling spite and under-your-spell might that shines so bright and it's wrong when it's right
I'm a kid without his kite
Stab me with love-me-not loathe - I can take it without throwing a childish fit with a mature kit with freezing fire foolwit
I'm sorry - I feel like shite
I know I broke the friendship oath - I still luv u a bit, I must admit
As most days go, this one's a winner
Think I'll go out and get soused
After two long years hoping and praying
We finally have sold our house!
It wasn't a matter of price it seems
Location was definitely why
It took this extremely extra long time
But finally a buyer came by!
Advice to those who are thinking of selling
Patience is definitely a must
There's supposedly a buyer for every house
But “For Sale” signs can start to rust!
Dear Cathie and I are over the moon
The relief is showing on our face
Stress was getting too much to deal with
To keep it a spic and span place!
We can now go back to our slovenly ways
With dirty dishes piled up high
Mountains of clothes strewn round each room
On the walls, bits of blueberry pie!
Gonna miss the peace and quiet of the country
Fields of green wherever you look
But mostly gonna miss my best buddy Ron
He'll always be number one in my book!
© Jack Ellison 2013
I wrote this for my sister in law who’s oven is as clean as the day it was fitted many moons ago and it is used by her as much as any other families.
Linda,s oven
Squeeky clean
Linda,s oven
Pristine dream
Linda,s oven
Free from fat
Linda,s oven
Immaculate
Linda,s oven
Baking mutton
Linda,s oven
Clean as a button
Linda,s oven
Roast spuds in
Linda,s oven
Neat as a pin
Linda,s oven
Pie dish buttered
Linda,s oven
Still uncluttered
Linda,s oven
Clean like new
Linda,s oven
No spilt stew
Linda,s oven
Roasting ham
Linda,s oven
Spic and span
Linda,s oven
Grease, theres none
Linda,s oven
Perfection.
There she stood, in a room all spic and span
Her name was Dorothea – the nun of Maryland
Ever so lightly, she picked flowers day and night
Oh! She was indeed the gift of God that did all her tasks
Did she happen to disobey her superiors and anger the ones above?
Obedient, classy and wise – the gift of God did as she was told.
Rummaging through antiques, she have found the key
Another key that held lies instead of answers, unfortunately.
FROM BIKINI BOTTOM TIMES...
...Spongebob Squarepants...what...atoll...?
plunged into where,...no way...toilet bowl...
supposedly, when the ghostly hand ex-toll
ling praise from his late creator, and master
meow mind of popular Stephen Hillenburg
cast said main character in clean new role,
an unexpected greasy, grimy, grisly, grouchy,
grungy gruff peagreen pissed off potty troll
snatched the unsuspecting
cheerful happy go lucky
animated fellow, who lives
in a pineapple under sea
(at 124 Conch Street) quite
self absorbed with Gary
his pet snail (not answering
questions at this time), we
understand emotional devastation,...
and possibly got flushed....sniffling
and sobbing heard...discontinuation,
this could wreak something
offal to all those avid landlubber
fans (many grownups) cling
to cautious optimism, but accept
vigilant prayers believing
quirk of fate could turn tide
of events & cannot dismiss linking
Russian collusion with attendant
rogues gallery, nor abandoning
any in house political conspiracy,
where top Navy brass calling
attention to an uncommonly
unusual migrant barnacles casing
with doddering fogey "Watergate
Plumbers" in tow absconding
before they could be apprehended
(hmm... something seems fishy)
haint no logical explanation, why
anyone would seek squeeze zing
the porous life out of such a
lovable...how unsinkable... accosting
...argh das spic and span hubble...
such a congenial, gentle, likable...
made himself come to life, (and
make believe to fans) achieving
he really existed, when birthed
from figment of imagination aching
tub be accepted and loved (by other
than Mister Rogers) acquiring
water world renown purportedly
slated to receive Krusty Krab shape
formica plaque engraved with his
name inlaid with finest enameling,
meanwhile...stay tuned at amazing
undrying resiliency as saturated media
updates how beloved soaking
hero does wetter adversity!