Jesus came and he visited me
He wanted to see my Christmas tree
But it was only Spring
The doorbell didn't ring
Though I did give him a smile with glee
He had jiggled the door handle
'told him he'd have to remove his sandles
He walked in the room
Where I hastily broomed
I offered him tea as a gamble
This limerick makes no gosh-darn sense
Did Jesus come for me to pay rent
I found my fake green tree
Then hurried off to pee
What message did the blessed lord sent
Categories:
broomed, appreciation,
Form: Limerick
The dark dinginess of the room
And its odoriferousness;
Obviously, it wasn’t broomed
In an age, the place was a mess.
The odor was suffocating
And it needed ventilation.
Unfit for a human being
and beyond my expectation.
“One lives in this filthy rat hole?
God! It’s an insult to a rat.
The center for disease control
wouldn’t enter this place.” She sat
alone, half naked from the waist
up on an overstuffed green chair
that’s when I got to see her face
and was totally unprepared.
“Umm! Madam, you ordered Chinese?
I rang the bell at least three times
and…” never mind that…sit down please!’
“Sit?” I asked. “I can’t. Its noontime
And I have four more deliveries
To make; perhaps some other time”,
I lied. Damn! I hate telling lies
But exiting called for a line
Regardless how outlandish.
I needed to buy extra time
to escape this kettle of fish.
“Madam that will be six dollars”
‘Six dollars, don’t you want a tip?’
“Yes!” trying to avoid her stare.
“I’ll come back after my last trip.”
She handed me the six. ‘See you!’
Then I hurried out the door, “Phew!”
Categories:
broomed, work
Form: Rhyme
it had been some time
since the walls
and the joins met,
but with each stride
foundations were lost
and flakes of misery
broomed my wake
the stigmata came
and it was as if,
my iron pen
had speared my wrists
someone called it writers cramp
but the sanctity of the odour
spoke otherwise
when the green began to ooze,
the hand of Esperanza
rested on my forehead
raking her nails
telling me
it was time
and,
that my hands had purpose
one last time
as each word envisioned
a thousand lashes
and each stanza speared
my side
I laid stripped
of flesh
each piece of flayed skin
raked off to fly the wind
dessicated to dust,
I laid in nirvana
mere moments
but,
falling through
the hourglass
I ran dry
now made of chalk
with each rub
I am diminished
to crumble
and the lines
grow ever obscure
Categories:
broomed, fantasy, hope, on writing
Form: Blank verse
Have you ever broomed,
your room,
removed the clutter,
and seen the room,
spick and span,
why don't you try,
the same,
with your mind,
broom it,
every now and then,
get the clutter out,
and with fresh clear voice,
give out a loud thoughtful shout.
Categories:
broomed, inspirational, life, philosophy,
Form: Free verse
Hanging in the space
the ghost rubbed its base,
it left a bright spark,
a flash in frightening dark,
the little girl huddled in her room,
she slid herself in a corner as if broomed,
the ghost made a swirl,
as if firecrackers were on whirl,
this scared her more,
her voice sunk inside her,
she could not even scream,
she folded her skeleton,
flattening little meat on it,
and closed her tiny eyes,
the ghost had completed its arrival,
and was no longer lamenting for survival,
it took shape,
and featured under little girls eyes under cape,
his face grew clear..and the ghost was man,
recognizing him the little girl ran,
it was dad,
who was long dead,
he had come,
so that she could have comfort some,
she sobbed in ethereal embrace,
the ghost had come not to scare,
but to grace.
Categories:
broomed, inspirational, life, philosophy, girl,
Form: Free verse
Thee floor In Mourning what a dust Is this
Neated niceness with cleaning wealth
With powdered mica, coal and seamy
A dust to mine, a dust of pleasureness
Poetic moment sweeping up where
Therely It's Darkness Inhabited bye wonders of Creation and finish
Sweeping In the Season of work
Magic broomed sweeping words
Such dustness stay sententious played
Whence sweeping I truely Industrious bliss Night and soon I heard
A breeze Wind It did not come anear;
A dream It victory shook the table
Around,around, flew each sweet sound
Like one, that on a lonesome Ocean
in the brief dust and light
Develop a Flower that smiles toDay
Tomorrow dies passions all that we
Wish to stay of unreflecting love! _
Then on the precipices of the wide
World I write alone, and pray
Till I Name and Fame says realms adream inside indwellness hous productive words.
Categories:
broomed, adventure, business, computer-internet, forgiveness,
Form: Ballade