Long Clean house Poems
Long Clean house Poems. Below are the most popular long Clean house by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Clean house poems by poem length and keyword.
I miss Judith, for devil that she was,
she would give me a stare each time I pass,
built like a fort on two pillars of stone,
she would glare like I had sins to atone!
she recycled curtains to make her dress,
she tied her hair with old shoe lace, God bless,
her speech was a dragon breathing fire,
if disobeyed, consequences were dire.
I miss Judith for all the things she did,
under toughness, all the goodness she hid,
clean house, good food, love and care she would show,
harsh on surface, deep in, her heart would glow.
my pretty wife’s dear mother Judith was,
if in my house, you would know who was boss,
she would make you feel welcome, serve you tea,
give you roasted cashew, brimming with glee.
judge not your dear ones for how they behave,
we count their faults, forget all good they gave,
not everyone in life trains to show love,
in her falcon, was hid a peaceful dove.
why pretend to be tough, shall never know,
at hint of our suffering, her tears flow,
many like her who glare when mean a kiss,
for the angel she was, Judith, I miss!
I’m the woman who would prefer a small group of people rather than a large crowd
I’m the woman who gets happy when I have a clean house
A clean mind, body, and soul
So far in life
I have achieved majority of my goals
I had a tendency of comparing myself to others
Comparison is the thief of joy
Sometimes I forget about the things I’ve accomplished in life because I was too busy looking at everyone
I was too busy looking at what I don’t have
Instead of being appreciative of what I do have
I’m the woman who wants to be successful in life and to continue to grow in life
Not just money but as a human being
I want to be someone who leaves a lasting mark on peoples hearts
I want to be the voice of wisdom you go to when you feel like you can’t do this thing called life anymore
Even after everything my faith in God just gets stronger
Every season I get a little bit tougher
Yet I learn how to know when to be softer
God is within me and I had my battles
Sometimes I got upset with you
I tried to understand why but I know he will never fail me
He will never lead me the wrong way
I’m the woman who loves her father and wants to have a true purpose in life
I’m the woman who almost did but never lost my faith in my father
In Jesus Christ
So much time has gone by
And I don't believe that I have told you why,
I love you brother today as before.
But why haven't I told you? I hope you're not sore !
I keep filling my day with important things,
Pick up the phone and give him a ring.
Just let him know I'm thinking to go,
I haven't forgotten to visit my bro.
But...I'll call you tomorrow when I've got the time,
I've got to clean house, my table must shine.
There's laundry and dishes and supper to do,
I will call you my brother I promise you.
I need to take time and slow down my pace.
You're someone I need, I can see your face.
I have to let you know that I truly care,
There's really no excuse I must declare.
I pray for your forgiveness to the Lord above
I need you to know "I have BROTHER LOVE"
Asper sweaty palms,
and other physiological ills
nothing beats infusion of
spine tingling electrifying chills -
experiencing psychological nirvana,
(nope NOT even
prescription medication pills)
except attaining, experiencing, and succumbing
delivering to bodily flesh, sans
nightly cathartic, intrinsic dream changing stills
and pacific inner calm gained,
thru shuteye, which tranquility
vis a vis REM hark able slumbers instills
necessary linkedin kickstarter instagram
godaddy transcendent reddit state, and fulfills
verity corroborated by perusing reliable
opinions painstakingly researched tracts
compiled by hands of
expert sleep specialists quills.
No surprise to me reading
(easy to understand)
judiciously, meticulously, and
professionally researched studies,
which unswervingly demand
the absolute zero tolerance
to deny deep jeep grand
(Cherokee) surrender into the land
where lovely bones and flesh
at rest, the agreed stand
hard quota of about seven hours finds
Melatonin the naturally occurring hormone,
secreted by the pineal gland
augmenting figurative trip wire,
where entire corporeal being fanned
by naturally biochemical processes
as if...complex species
guided by invisible hand.
Today, upon arising
without deafening vacuum
cleaner, yours truly did not feel gloom
me, nor rankle, an ordinarily mellow (Hume
more wrist) fellow, nee unlike
yesterday morning, where boom
ming ear splitting cacophony
gravely rented death stillness
unwittingly did exhume
even the grateful dead,
they did fuss and fume
(lumbering like 10,000 maniacs)
furious with rage
unbridled as many a jilted groom
(imagine a billion infuriated room
Hun hating thwarted lovers) assume
ming stanced ready to throttle throat
of she that chose to clean house
no matter engendering global sonic boom.
Luella Bufkin
1872 – 1891
Do you remember me?
Does anyone remember the Bufkin girl of Comstock Street?
I was the girl who read her Bible every Sunday
In the forgiving shade of my father’s Elm Tree..
Maybe not.
Because I died young… way too young.
And I was a smart pretty girl too.
No one ever knew I spent many waking moments alone.
Alone and staring into the parlor room mirror
Staring into my own blue eyes;
Imagining they were the eyes of my galloping Knight.
Eyes I had hoped to use
In capturing the “devil” by his tail.
I knew how to cook and sew
And clean house and milk the cow.
I made the butter and the bread
And my mother always said
”Now Luella, don’t forget to add the yeast.”
I cleaned and scrubbed and scoured
And even cut the firewood on occasion.
It was all I knew;
My life with rags and strong soaps;
One continuing, unending back-breaking episode
Of hardwood chores
And ever-growing laundry piles.
And it was a brief,
Oh so painfully brief life,
Of cleaning, praying and… dreaming.
I wanted to go into nursing
And find a suitable man to be my Noble Squire.
But my kidneys flamed up and I started to pee blood.
Come to my lonely grave sometime, my friend.
I’m off in the corner here.
Forgotten and covered in the ivy.
I lie here in my casket in the dark
Please visit me here in the shadows,
So I can hear you breathing.
Life is only depressing,
when you let yourself down,
do today, what you know,
will make you happy tomorrow.
our mind, can go round and round
time and time again,
looking for solutions,
attempting to control problems,
that is apart of life,
sometime's we get hurt,
break up with someone we love,
the mind looks to understand,
what it can't accept,
anger, bargaining, pleading
is all apart of grief,
the mind attempting to find,
a pathway to replace the love,
two people together need each other,
when they break, it's hard to cope,
a mind reels through one idea after another,
In life their are day's we do not cope,
you might not shower,
you might not clean house,
but you will heal,
there will come a day,
when you can cope again,
when you can clean house,
learn to change,
be good to yourself,
I went to the second hand shop's,
and brought joke books,
sometimes it's good to laugh,
or at least smile,
when faced with a million problems.
At one stage, I thought she was lying,
and then I realised
like me, her desire changed
with her changing emotion,
one minute she wanted me back,
the next she hated me again,
you will heal learn not to hate,
she has made mistakes,
you have made mistakes,
it's time to let go and move on,
so many people seem to hurt
and kill their family,
when they break up
granted it hurts,
but hurting them
will only hurt yourself,
give yourself time
you will love again.
I found the best way for me
was to stop talking about my problems
I went back to school and built
a new career
I built new friendships
and yes I made more mistakes
but each time I learned
and now life isn't perfect
but I'm happy knowing
that the decisions I make
are designed to improve
people's live's.
Where do you want to be and how soon
That you enquire of the shortest routes and fast cars
Always on your way by sun and by moon
Oblivious of whether your skies host guiding stars
The Lord only makes you tarry for readiness.
It's not a passage of time but patience in its perfect work
To purge obscure evils and with righteousness fill your emptiness
That your clean house be without space for which temptation lurks
A man and his wife sold a field.
Gave part to God claiming that they gave all
Must fear more than love be the surest unction for man to yield
Must he fall so far as a finger to write his end on the wall
Your Father in Heaven tells your hearts not to be troubled
Seize moments to do good but sprint not for sorrowful riches
For by faithfulness Job was restored and his wealth doubled
Turn away from the underhand that the world subtly preaches
K. Muitherero.
The Omnipotent Hand knows what is best;
Man sees himself and nature at blind spot.
Now in a sine graph we are at the crest.
Yes, a turning point is what we have got!
The Hand constructed a clean house for us,
But we cook what we eat in the fireplace.
The scented air turns into greenhouse gas,
Increasing the temperature in the space.
The Hand let the rain fall and river flow,
But we give them artificial flavors:
Rain gets an acid, river a shadow.
Sickening soft drinks have various colors.
The Hand gave us the land to tread upon,
But we make the wheels to send us away.
And we bite the dust; diseases have won.
We choose to die and not to walk a day.
The Omnipotent Hand showed us the sign
To bend the trend and take full reversal,
Like searching for the grapes, the source of wine.
Unless we go back, all shall be fatal.
(c) 2012 by Sherwin
Balbuena
There it is
Dark, swirling,
Twirling, black tar
I can't go near
So a wall I'll build
But maybe a door
...just in case
There....awww
Nice, clean, house
No black muck
Running about
Should someone mention
The WALL...I will not CALL
...again
Year after year
They come and go
But they CAN"T know
What I can't face
In my private place
Maybe just a peek
...ugh! It reeks
If it's gonna get worse
Maybe I could grab a purse
And just shove it in
...I can't be in the same space
With IT
What is IT, that has all this power
Did you see that?
Who am I talking to
Who's in here with me
"Shame"
I fall to the floor in repugnant sorrow
I want to be me
...but doesn't someone have to say it's ok?
"I do"
Written by Trudy Schrader
Sheba had that twirly whirly jumpy bumpy personality
That told you she was either a Gemini or on drugs
I am a Gemini, and on drugs, so I recognized her right away
Others steered clear of her, using monikers like
Crazy, weird, unusual, off-the-chain, strange.
That is why I ran toward her and made her a friend right away
Sheba had grown up in a carnival, learning to read tarot cards
I love tarot cards; I have tried to read them but
They always end up reading me….
I had grown up in a strict clean house with a mother
Who dragged us to church six times a week
And Sheba thought that was charming….
Sheba had a host of people raise her – the fat woman, the thin man,
The mustached woman, the bearded women, lots of women.
She was used to ignoring orders from everyone….
I had grown up with a drill sergeant of a mother
who expected us to jump hard and fast,
so I was used to lots of belt whippings…..
Sheba and I had not grown up in the same way at all,
but we clicked immediately, understanding that we had all
kinds of things in common
Possibly because we are both crazy, weird, unusual, off-the-chain,
and wonderfully strange.