Best Tidy Up Poems
I've a bit of a problem here...
in a higgledy-piggledy pickle
torn between housewifery
and creative muses fickle.
Scattered, shattered fragments
of odd ideas, dreams
lay about my den, disguised
not nearly what they seem!
Bits of whimsy, what-nots
all cluttering my desk
covered in thick pixie dust
my housekeeping grotesque.
Higgledy-piggledy hodgepodge
my convoluted mess
a sign of utter genius
(or else mental distress).
I'd planned to tidy up...
to toss a few things out
but as I gaze upon them
they sniffle, weep and pout.
To think that I'd discard them!
Those former hopes and whims
unborn poems, paintings
their destiny quite grim.
Delicately backing out-
I apologize with care
as they cold-shoulder, look away
with such dramatic flair!
And when my husband asks me
just what I've done all day
I simply shrug “not much”
not knowing what to say.
How could I ever mention
the lurking living things
inside my head, upon my desk
that gently pull my strings?
The odd creative forces
that captivate me thus
wildly penning amid my piles
while he remains nonplussed!
STOP RIGHT THERE!!!
NOT SO FAST….
Just where do you think you are going??!!
Do you think you can just walk away!!
You have work to do.
Tighten up that Sonnet
Tidy up those rhymes
Feel the drumbeat of that meter
…the juxtaposed delight
….of sitting back and knowing
…..you finally got it……WRITE.
WIPE THAT SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE!!!
You know you love it.
The torture of the keyboard
words tumbling from the pen
the beginning
the middle
the all elusive end
DON’T GIVE ME THAT OLD SONG AND DANCE!!
Remember those first crumpled
unfinished
discarded
recovered
reworked
polished
failures
DON’T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE!!!
Have you forgotten that first poem??
The one you read to your dog?
in a whispered voice
as his tail wagged
and your voice
brushed his coat
with poetry.
YOU ARE A POET!!
Your words,
like butterfly wings,
gently alter
the currents
of the universe.
John G. Lawless
©7/15/2017
My desk is all of a shamble
My garden is full of bramble
Does this show me to be
High in ability
Or just a bad example
So, if I tidy up the mess
Would my intelligence be less
Would I be a social turd
Misunderstanding each word
Just like a politician ... yes?
Einsteins Quote :
If a cluttered desk, signs a cluttered mind, of what, then, is an empty desk a sign?
Penned 17 April 2015
Springs around the corner
what wondrous things we'll see,
bulbs popping up above the ground
giving joy to you and me,
time to tidy up our plot, lots of digging too,
weeds to pull, beds to hoe
lots of things will have to go.
You have to be a little brave
if that rose you want to save,
but you will learn that over time
you've got to be cruel, just to be kind,
The flower beds need a tidy
take all that dead stuff off the top,
veg plots being well dug over
hoping for a bumper crop.
Seeds to sow, hope they'll grow !
then the lawn will need a mow.
And when all the hard work is done
you can sit back and be pleased,
wind , rain and sun you have grown all you need.
Salmon pink horizon beguiles as I towel dry
Upon a muted canvas morphs hues at sunset.
The lake decants of its waders and pontoons.
Mirrored waters tranquil—a soothing elixir.
Tidy up and make camp for the night.
The campsite invited blissful slumber.
Natural waters reflected frond umbrellas.
An artificial lake at once sequestered.
Fuchsia shades spackled across dusky skies.
All had surfaced—I dove into a lost horizon.
The Little Things She Doesn’t do.
.
It’s not so much the things she does
But the things she doesn’t do
That always amazes me
That would make anyone love her too
.
For she never questions me
For our relationship is built
By faith and trust
She never pushes me to do anything
And never a judge
.
She never shouts at me or argues
As we always talk things through
She never thinks about just herself
But of us two
She rarely does the same thing twice
And keeps our relationship fresh and new
.
She has no sense of greed
As long as we can pay the bills
And have enough to feed
.
She doesn’t complain
When I leave the toilet seat up yet again
Or leave crumbs to tidy up
And when I am thirsty
She offers me her cup
.
She never minds when I need my space
And never wears a frown
But a smile upon her face
She never wears makeup
But still looks like a dream
The house is never dirty
Always spotless clean
.
We are of the same mold
The same in so many ways
And I love her as much as I first did
Sixty five magic years ago
Still very much in love
But now
Old and grey.
.
Peter Dome©2020.
This was inspired by a wonderful poem I read earlier today on the Forum 'Look what
followed me home' by Paula Swanson.
Hey mom it really wasn’t me, I’m not responsible for that,
Just because I’m the only one here, It could have been the cat.
Of course I went to school today, I‘m not inclined to roam.
Just don’t repeat awful words , ‘Wait till your Dad gets home’
‘So, someone must have done it, I don’t see what gives,
No I don’t know who it could have been, I can’t say where he lives.
It wasn’t me, it was like that when , it must have just fell down
Someone must have eaten it, when no-one was around.’
‘I’ll mow the lawn, I’ll paint the fence, I’ll tidy up my room,
I’ll take the garbage to the bin, my rescued dog I’ll groom.
Your staring eyes and plucked out hair are scaring me now Mom
Oh please don’t tell and please don’t say, ‘Wait till your Dad gets home’
Captain Evil Eye is here
More a super villain than a hero
Just one look from his evil eye
Your temperature drops to zero
Yes it is Luke’s little party trick
This thing he does with his eye
When he stares at you with that look
You don’t know whether to laugh or cry
Go and do your homework
And Captain Evil Eye is there
Go and tidy up your room
You’ll see the steely glare
Come on now it’s time for bed
The evil eye stares you down
Captain Evil Eye looks a little
Like some psychotic clown
But even super villains get tired
And we eventually get our way
As Captain Evil Eye is put to bed
His evil work done for the day
LAST DAY OF SCHOOL
No more initiative to lack
Young voices no longer call me back
End of term
My clock is ticking
The last minutes in this classroom
Tidy up the debris myself
Books not fully arranged on shelf
Half-eaten chocolate bar
Unfinished game of dominoes
Math project incomplete
Talk of spelling and grammar
Irrelevant now after the drama
My chalk marks are easily erased
Switch off lights - last thing.
Then the long silence
TIDES OF TIDINESS
If I was God, the geographic world I would bless:
I’d start by tidying up my world map for it’s a mess.
First let’s examine the ideal - man-made edges can’t be beat.
Look at places like the USA -Canada boundaries - wow they’re neat.
Saskatchewan and the Four Corners - geometric perfection.
Australia’s states too, and Africa, especially the northern section.
It’s the instinct of all poetic geography teachers
To want to tidy up the world map’s ragged features.
The British Columbia coast needs sweeping with a big brush and
All those islands pushed till they’re joined to the mainland.
Same goes for the chilly south coast of Chile:
So many islands and peninsulas - it’s just silly.
And also the fjorded Atlantic coast of Norway:
Smooth? Neat? Geometric? No way!
The Canadian archipelago too might as well be joined up together
Cos it’s one frozen mass all the time in wintry weather.
Of those messy lakes of Canada and Finland we have no need:
With God’s giant blotting paper I’d make them recede.
And don’t get me started about the crazy course of a river.. . .
Pure logic and efficiency I can deliver:
The Amazon rises only 60 miles from Peru’s Pacific coast
But clearly it felt the need to have something to boast.
It should have gone west instead of 4000 miles east to the Atlantic
A wasted effort, silly choice - it ended up being absurdly gigantic.
And I have bigger complaints, such as South America
Being fitted back where it belongs into the coast of Africa;
And the Red Sea’s coasts, moved apart like edges of torn paper all raggedy:
Dunno whose idea that was, but it ain’t foolin nobody.
Obviously they should be stuck back together jigsaw fashion
To satisfy my geographical neatness passion.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
*This is the latest in my series of Nutty Geographical Poems.
Take a glance at your bedside atlas to see the places mentioned.
I awoke from my cocoon now knowing my time
I'm actually half-human from a dimension defined
But so honoured to be able to look back, and track
To witness such wanton carnage and throw up!
But it's where do I start to tidy up historical mess
As I read back a planet that's severely distressed
North Korean, American, or all with Nuclear extent
Look what you've done now, little left to repent
To amend defend this descend in such destructiveness
Tearing apart the only utopia oasis universal blush
Implosion explosion it's where you've dragged her to be
I'm now somewhere else sitting under somebody's tree
dripping my red ink…
my clumsy cousin from space
lovable lunkhead
Dotted, splattered, kicked the bucket under
My sofa…what a mess…what a great guest...
bleeds
on
my rug
pools
of
tie-dyed
fiber
he
is
so
sorry
roll
my
eyes
here on planet nice, we take our time, we often rhyme
dan’s just a dinosaur from planet earth, a primate
inclinations to spin
tornado style
disasters
follow
me
one day, i shall visit, his land of chaos
straighten the curves
tidy up the streets
set regular hours
bring peace
and
quiet
Ma, I dont wanna go to school.
I wanna stay home and swim in the pool.
I dont wanna be with bossy teachers,
I'll stay home and eat ice cream and peaches.
Ma let me stay home with you,
We can find fun things to do.
I'll help you today Ma, all day long.
I'll be a good help, cause I am strong.
Off to school today would be such a pity.
I'll pick flowers, the house will look pretty.
I'll sweep the floor with your broom.
Ma, you want me to tidy up my room?
Do the dishes? Clean the floor with a mop?
So many chores, Ma I need to stop.
Ma, being home isnt much fun,
I can be in time for school, if I run.
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.
Did you rinse your plate after dinner?
pull the covers back when you got up.
Leave the empty toilet roll on the rack,
Or rinse the tea residue from your cup?
Why do you load the dishwasher wrong?
How is it I always tidy up the table?
I’m the only one who empties the bin.
Is it just that you are not able?
Can you not leave the toothpaste out!
and there’s spatter all over the sink.
Where is the note I left on the bench?
You throw things out before you think.
It’s not that I have misophonia,
because I don’t like to hear you eat.
Don’t cut your toe nails inside the house,
do you really have to pick skin from your feet?
Our pettiness can know no bounds.
Why do these small things provoke?
Do we just look for judgement to pass?
Not contemplate a word before it is spoke?