kitchen clean broom sweep
chipped dishes cracked wishes weep
mess runs into garbage fun
“Living has yet to be generally recognized as one of the arts”
- Quote by Karl De Schweinitz
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ETHICAL DILEMMA, GUILT,
COGNITIVE DECLINE, FEAR,
INSECURE, PREJUDICE,
VULNERABLE, LONELY,
DEPENDENCE, REGRET,
WISE CONTEMPLATION
Oh husband, you'll make such a scene,
Giving your wife a broom for a gift!
"But it's not my intention to make her clean...
Just to provide her with a lift!"
New broom, swept fast
Old broom, hold fast
Both still work.
A broom is a flight of fancy
at the witching hour
A machine gun uncased
in peril, it’s power
Waltzing Matilda
on the ballroom floor
Sweeps me away
~ with so much more
Broom
The involvement of
the outside sweeping broom in the
sequence of
poetry pamphlets organising into
piles based on
themes extends the period or
condition of
Kookaburra life.
*A young man went out for a stroll
into a remote patch of icy blue Adirondak
It's been a few moons since he was last seen
they discovered his lithium car at the trailhead
A white broom swept his footprints off the map
They posted a vision of him sitting in the sunshine.
They're searching low and high for that cherub smile
Prayers are swirling like glitter in a snow globe
the ranger whispers about windchill and hope
forecaster says a fresh foot of devilish snow
they postponed the search until tomorrow
They say a cardinal may chirp a psalm
when souls wander into the beyond
A young man went out for a stroll*
Fly-ing on my broom
Plans are made...yearly on zoom.
Tonights the night of fear and fun
The...nights only just begun.
I'll screech and laugh, and scare you
I'll curse you with, potions bad brew.
I stir my cauldron well
And fill with toad heads and a rat.
Bubbles are steaming hot
And fiery, when they pop.
I make my spells, to cast on you
Then bottle it, for quid or two.
Dress code is all black
Wear our well known pointy hat.
When I'm done with you
I'll go straight home, to feed my cat.
By moonlight sky...see me fly.
My silhouette,
My silhouette,
Waves bye ...bye.
30.10.24
Lizella could not control the broom she inherited from her mother.
It had a mind of its own, wanting to do always “the other”.
If she said right, it went left, okay?
It set itself on fire at the end of one day.
You have to behave! She said to the singed broom.
The broom laughed so hard, it filled up the room.
With guffaws and giggles, that made her feel crazy.
If she wanted to sweep, it became insanely lazy.
Refusing to help or do work in any way.
She could not believe the worthlessness of this hay.
Why did you leave me this? She asked her mother one day.
I thought it would amuse you, she said. Okay?
Dark orange skies
Fading into black night,
A crescent moon rise
Glowing ghostly white
Skimming overhead
With trick or treaters below,
I watch them tread
Before up I go ...
Flying over corn crops
Reaching out to touch the stars,
Dodging rooftops ...
And parked cars
Above the tree limbs
Sweeping the last leaves,
As I swoop by, skims
The houses' eaves
Over the picket fences
And wrought iron gates,
The night commences
Where the cemetery waits
It is Halloween ...
In all it's sight and sound,
Beautiful to be seen
And I am spellbound!
~ A Running Joke from Israel's
War for Independence, 1948 ~
I'm a brave soldier, I defend my land
This broom is my rifle, I guard this sand
I fight for the right to live and not die
To breathe fresh air, under clear blue skies
I'm a brave soldier, I defend my land
This broom is my rifle, I guard this san--
The bushes near me stir. Now I'm scared!
Halt! Halt, I demand! Who goes there?
FRIEND OR FOE? FRIEND OR FOE?
WHO IS IT THAT GO--
The bushes part! There goes my heart...
Out comes -- Moshe?!
OMG, Moshe, I almost shot you with my 'rifle'
Not to worry, Avi. I'm an 'armored tank'
~ Thank the good Lord I'm not homicidal!
____________________________________
Note: Israel was so short on weapons in the
War of Independence (1948-49) that soldiers
were actually using hammers, although I
don't think they ever used brooms... Beware
of 'armored tanks' now! lol.
One sunny morn, a broom is sweeping a floor full of dirt. The dust pan said to the broom, "I will help you!"
"Thank you," said the broom. "Thank you for helping me minimize my work."
"I am not always around," the dust pan said, "...because not all people buy me after buying you."
"Hard to explain and I really don't know why?" the broom averred.
"I wish we can be partners all the time, cleaning the world full of mire," the dust pan added.
The broom panting, "Sometimes you are more useful than me, but I'm glad you're here for me!"
Weaving the literary loom
Words marry, blends warp and weft;
Fell in love a splendid groom
Soon his death leaves her bereft,
In haste writes of worldly broom.
She wrote of flame on chilly nights
Old men reliving the war;
Victims all of infinite fights
Witness the scars on faces they wore
How they jest to shroud phobic plights.
Life began a thread from the womb
Now her misdeed that of old?
She sits in her lonely room
Case of dementia, we are told
A silhouette of life’s long bloom.
© Harry J Horsman 2022
Witch does broom maneuvers to the delight of the crowd.
They are roaring with appreciation – nice, long and loud.
We have never had such a marvelous acrobatic witch appear!
This is the best one whose skullduggery is abundantly clear.
The witch was on a roll and gave her wand a flick.
The entire audience disappeared in smoke – what a trick!
Better get them back, the boss yelled. His name was Rosco.
We do not have enough insurance to cover this fiasco!
Some ladies enjoy riding on their brooms
All over the house, into all the rooms
Gran rode the ironing board
Only skis she could afford
Off she'd ride, before ironing resumes
Limerick Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Lisa YY
July 17, 2022
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