Cleaning Poems - Poems about Cleaning

1 John 1:7 “But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.” In the vacuuming, the roar of a voice – softly churning, remembering my purpose… my soul is burning – soundless stories, a still,...

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No man can ever understand, There's Spring Cleaning across this land, Miss Mop and Clean waves her hand, Snoring is his male band, Not to worry, no time to sup, Gals want to sparkle up, One shelf at a time, Spray and Wipe sublime, Fresh is the cupboard smell, Charity bags cast their spell, All tidy now, so it seems, Polished the dog, he gleams, Must detox...

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I plunk myself down in front of a computer No reason, nothing to say, not inspired or anything Others say they stare at a blank page or screen Not me; I marvel at my hands as they begin to type Who are we channeling? Who is writing this stuff? I have no idea, but my muse is always writing, writing,...

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There is so much I could do to get ready for company But I already cleaned for twelve minutes It felt like three excruciating days Cleaning wears me out Ruins my day Takes my energy Steals my joy I am going to start throwing bags and boxes of stuff away It would be best if I do not even give myself a peek This...

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The sparrow cannot help being tireless. The banyan cannot help being sheltered. The moon cannot help being constant. And I cannot help being Amma. Even in my sleep, I dream of your healing. Even in my sadness, I love my purpose. I swim in the rivers of my devotion. I climb through the mountains of my fatigue. My hands move from cradle to...

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I started with one small corner of my kitchen Set the timer, so I could stop in fifteen minutes Set the timer eight more times until the floor was scrubbed The counters were scraped, the table was polished to a shine Might as well do the microwave I kept shutting the refrigerator door I was not ready to tackle that monster...

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Pushing away the mop. Instead, watching the fan blow dust around. Everyone whispers about spring cleaning. I filled a bucket with soap and water. The sun is rising earlier. And setting before I can finish. Drops spilling out. And the water is cold now. Moving the furniture around. If I had super strength, it would be easier....

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Trying to spring clean And muscle spasms are a thing So I’m forced to take pain pill And now I’m sleepy lost my will So gonna take a Power Nap Then give dust bunnies a zap It sucks being chronically ill Yet poetry gives me a thrill still ...

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We need to disinfect the WH before Trump arrives Hunter Biden was in there smoking that white stuff And who knows what else was going on in there © daniel miltz...

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In suit of orange, he strides the scene With tweets like whirling winds, sharp and keen Promises made to sweep the debris A tumultuous path to a grander decree © daniel miltz...

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Organ-ize it like some sort of sick symphony I suppose though the latter half of my A&P studies suggest otherwise working together in harmony a kind of homeostasis, (it makes me shudder to think of any living space being like that) organ...ized like fossilized something that sets out a course to take place over eons of time that no one small frail human...

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First Shard My childhood was tainted in a single moment In an instant It happened so fast And unable to go back Turn back time To change that moment To continue the purity For the purity to last all through my childhood Giving it no room for flaws Maybe then my adulthood could be saved Saved from the filth from the...

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I could clean while I listen to TV I do not I could wipe the counters I do not I could sweep the floor I do not cleaning does not interest me I do not do things that are boring and redundant...

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The temple resembled a market place. They bought and sold. By the rich even the Sanctum Sanctorum was controlled. Communion of the humans with the divine seemed delinked. From the lost tongues of hypocrites, like sounds of cracked gongs, clinked Bonfires of sanctity from the hearth of your heart erupt Possessed by the love of your father's abode, you were...

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We’re cleaning out the shed And tossing out a lot of stuff. Although we’ve filled up several bags, It isn’t quite enough. There’s so much more that’s left for us To go through and decide If it is destined for the dump Or gets to stay inside. Old toys and games and pots and pans And papers we don’t need, Which shouldn’t have been...

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