Long Cleanness Poems
Long Cleanness Poems. Below are the most popular long Cleanness by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cleanness poems by poem length and keyword.
Chosen to be a perfectionist
all things in order
not out of order
the pantry is orderly
the shelves are amazing
the dishes are placed
neatly arranged with a homemade cake
perfectly amongst the race
clean clean clean away
no time wasted, non-worried faces
this is right, that is wrong
a perfect home
If it means being alone
straighten out items, neatness all around
when leaving, must come back to the cleanness
orderly you see, nothing is thrown around
If it is, you have to get down
seemed perfect in all that was done
the atmosphere is right
each day and night
shoes come off at the door
sinks are wiped down after repeated usage
no time for disorderly, nor items misplaced
a day to relax, some days are amazing
the perfectionist, having some patience
what a view being seen
overall, it's clean clean clean
neatness in appearance
nothing out of line
even the clock on the wall
cannot be the wrong time
a picture that is crooked
has to be straighten
don't keep them waiting
Some things are not outdated
not a lent on the floor
that cannot definitely be ignored
a life with the perfectionist
as time definitely goes by
sometimes asking, why? why? why?
the dinner invite, extended settings
just a piece of the delicious apple pie
the hand slightly was hit twice
barely hurt, a smile with love
no, not now, that is the dessert
just wait for the appetizers, the entrees
fancy elegant dinner plates are placed
gold silverware, decors, red flowers, and more
the table is so extraordinary
the view is so nice
the room is full of peace, love, and joy
If you're messy, you might not be invited anymore
oh well, the day has gone
all family, friends, and others went home
until the holidays come again
invitations are amongst limited
maybe next time the host will be the guest
and all, figuring out the rest.
The perfectionist.
Note:
Sometimes a perfectionist will change some guidelines.
Faith, Prayers. Jesus. Grace.
Can this be me? You?
orderly, clean, & neat.
Some people have said that cleaning can be mind relaxing. Also, a form of exercise because you're always moving. After the results, you can see the finishing.
An atmosphere that is suitable to live in.
Distances (II)
by Michael R. Burch
There is a small cleanness about her,
as though she has always just been washed,
and there is a dull obedience to convention
in her accommodating slenderness
as she feints at her salad.
She has never heard of Faust, or Frost,
and she is unlikely to have been seen
rummaging through bookstores
for mementos of others
more difficult to name.
She might imagine “poetry”
to be something in common between us,
as we write, bridging the expanse
between convention and something...
something the world calls “art”
for want of a better word.
At night I scream
at the conventions of both our worlds,
at the distances between words
and their objects: distances
come lately between us,
like a clean break.
Published by Verse Libre, Triplopia and Lone Stars. Keywords/Tags: love, relationship, relationships, communication, distance, distances, convention, books, bookstores, art, literature, poetry, writing, chasm, abyss, divide, Faust, Frost, clean break
THIS MOMENT FOREVER
BY Gayle Vanasse 6/5/2022
Have you ever found that special moment where everything just feels right? Everything feels good! That moment that makes you feel like you just wish to be in this place forever, just feel like this forever.
Today, this morning I feel it. I feel it so clear, clean, beautiful. I just want this moment, these moments….. to last forever.
The cleanness of my body, my breath. The smells of the clean morning air, the sounds of the natural life, the sights of the beautiful surroundings. It’s so now, new, clean, refreshing, RAW. I feel it all enter my body through my nose, through my eyes, through my ears.
The soft breeze of a new day. The sun awaking from its long night. The birds singing glory to the new day. The soft musical notes that give life to this earth fills my heart and soul with the wonderous love, gratitude, and honor to be alive.
Oh how can I make this feeling stay in my heart forever? Not just in this present moment, these moments? Knowing soon something will interrupt this beautiful feeling I am experiencing. I wish everyone could take a moment to feel this peace of love and contentment. This feeling of joy and freedom. To be able to release any pain and anger from their lives and just feel the amazing goodness the world has to offer. To breath it all in, let yourselves explore the true feeling of happiness, love, and the joy of being truly alive.
If only these moments could last oh so much longer
But now, I wonder "Will I have the bravery to follow?"
Demise shall follow if I am to attain redemption and cleanness of my sins that tarnish my soul.
Sometimes, I cling to yes, sometimes I cling to no.
When the dark clouds blur my sight, I ask myself "What is worth living for?", some believe in god, some in money or in even a more mundane wish.
I lack this one thing, I lack the purpose that would impulse me forward. But then, I speculate "For me, must be love", but what is love? I do not know, I am an strange to it, perhaps this wasn't reserved for everyone.
Well, one thing is right, my passing will not be mourned nor missed. It will go like the wind, now here then gone and noone noticed a thing.
Many leaves were shaken, many tears soiled the ground, yet, none of this was spotted by anyone.
To the people I did wrong "I am sorry, please, do forgive me".
To the people that hates me, hate me more, be genuine with it and be the fuel of this endeavor. Hurt me more, make me bleed, cut open my flesh, as he once did when I was an infant, paint the wall with my crimson tint...
Make me regret to have been born, actually, this will require little effort, since I already regret that.
My mind is set, termination is the way to go if I desire to do something good, at least once, in this life.
No hope can be spied nor a glimmering light to lead this one to safety.
In a colorless world, only with shades of black and gray, thoughts of demise haunts me day after day.
I see the people around me, at work, on the the streets, everywhere and I cannot help but to feel disgusted and out of place and helpless.
I am tired of pretending, behind my mask, I weep, behind their masks, they laugh at me.
I am tired of being fed by deceiving tales and to feed other with my lies.
The lies... It is everywhere, one must tread lightly between them, or else will fall their prey.
When freedom spoiled me,
and lovers blinded me
with their false affections,
no wisdom was present in any thought,
although I heard its sound sweeter than a symphony;
friends frowned, taking away their smile...
I refused to grow up by remaining a foolish child.
And I sinned because
I couldn't see the difference
in the good things that made
one wiser and more serene;
perhaps this lesson had to be learned
to separate foolishness from wisdom
to make me understand
that I had to make better choices.
Finally, salvation came
as that morning prayer brought Heaven's hope
to my doorsteps where sunlight never shone;
finally, I acquired the wisdom to choose
a purposeful life based on truth,
and cleanness of soul...
eradicating all traces of sin.
Written by Andrew Crisci
for nette oncloud's contest,
" Serenity Response "
Phrase:
"....and wisdom to know the difference "
Running around frantically,
The wrong lock for a key,
Boiling over, fuming,
Cleanness always looming.
Lurking over, smiling ear to ear,
Small, always wanting to steer,
“Too controlling!”, spoilt I’d say,
Always wanting their way.
It’s like their hearts are astray,
In one spot, you can’t stay,
Oh, how I’d love to keep them quiet,
Pitter, patter, follow it.
Fighting, battling in a “war”,
Toothpicks drawn over an apple core,
How silly we were as children, making food sculptures,
Fighting over scraps like vultures.
Contagious, maturity spreading fast,
Cough, breath, that’s my last,
Punch to the face, youth ending soon,
Lies spread by a goon.
I just bought a kitchen timer
Sealed inside a plastic shell.
When I tried to get it open,
I did not fare very well.
First I slit it with a steak knife
But I didn’t get too far.
If I sliced my hand instead,
I’d probably end up with a scar.
So I then switched to a scissor
Thinking it would cut right through,
But I really had to struggle
As frustration grew and grew.
Next I grabbed two jagged edges
And I ripped the thing apart;
By this time I’m sure my blood pressure
Was soaring off the chart.
Surely there must be some packaging
Requiring less drastic
Measures to uncover what is waiting
Underneath the plastic.
For I’m sure I’m not the only one
Whose struggles to unseal
Something factory-made in China
Turn into a real ordeal.
What we sacrifice for cleanness
And to stop a thief from theft
Leaves the rest of us consumers
With not one nerve that is left!
Under the mistletoe
With a kindling smile
Reflected by the candle's halo
Her flirtatious attitude
Solo dancing the tango
Enticing to come over
Then going on her tiptoe
Letting her hunger go
Washy, washy, don’t you stop
Just let your cycle go spin and pop
Your load gets warm as the drum slides round
Start the surgee, no rules, unbound
Washy, washy, don’t you stop
Imagination on every drop
The water hums and the pulses sound
Start the spin, the clothes unbound
Moving to the backside
The motion of the tide
From the garnet chalice
The freshness, the sweetness
The cleanness, the softness
Leaving the world breathless
The gentle sea breeze
Doing as she please
Hands moving down the thigh
The original scent is high
Garb sliding to the knees
Off by the flick of the toe
Taking it slow
Moving as a guide, her eyes are wide
Putting inside and starting the ride
Ultra-efficiency liquid
Beatitude, pulchritude so vivid
Bona fide, the ride of the tide
All entangled, wangle, tangle
Happily, blissful angel
Washy, washy, don’t you stop
Just let your cycle go spin and pop
Your load gets warm as the drum slides round
Start the surge, no rules, unbound
Washy, washy, don’t you stop
Imagination on every drop
The water hums and the pulses sound
Start the spin the clothes unbound
Washy, washy, don’t you stop
Just let your cycle go spin and pop
Your load gets warm as the drum slides round
Start the surge, no rules, unbound
Washy, washy, don’t you stop
Imagination on every drop
The water hums and the pulses sound
Start the spin, the clothes unbound
Under the mistletoe
With a kindling smile
Reflect by the candle halo
Her flirtatious attitude
Solo dancing the tango
Enticing to come over
Then going on her tiptoe
Letting her hunger go
Moving to the backside
The motion of the tide
From the garnet chalice
The freshness, the sweetness
The cleanness, the softness
Leaving the world breathless
The gentle sea breeze
Doing as she please
Hands moving down the thigh
The original scent is high
Garb sliding to the knees
Off by the flick of the toe
Taking it slow
Moving as a guide, her eyes are wide
Putting inside and starting the ride
Ultra-efficiency liquid
Beatitude, pulchritude so vivid
Bona fide, the ride of the tide
Happily, blissful angel
Oh, by the way, this is a commercial
Updated 5/14/2019
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