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I Am Not Your Broom
Now broom, you must now sweep for me
The dust it fills my room
No, john, I will not sweep for you
For I am not your broom
What nonsense are you speaking, broom
My words you must obey
Another life awaits me and
Im leaving you today
I am not your broom
I am not your broom
Ive had enough, Im throwing off
My chains of servitude
I am not your broom
I am not your broom
No longer must I sweep for you
For I am not your broom
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Brooms Witches And Mothers
Witches have broom's
When i a child
Mother's had broom's
Mother's ran with broom's
Mother's ran fast with broom's
I was a very swift boy
I had to run from many broom's
Sometimes mother would strike with broom
Therefore throwing herself of balance
As i ran i would laugh
Like a kookaburra
She would become a angry mother with broom
She would call for me to stop running
So she could give me her broom
I would keep running
For i did not like broom's
Witches like broom's
Mother's like broom's
poem by Allan James Saywell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A new broom sweeps clean, but an old broom knows the corners.
A new broom sweeps well, but the old broom knows all the corners.
Broom Poem
a history of the broom
a short one, or long
will see us down on the floors
in the streets and the corners;
a little excursion to the theaters
of farce and wayward husbands
beaten by outraged wives;
and if we included this poem
in this sweep of history
I hope a poem with a broom
does not fire the same ignorance
as beliefs did
conjuring women with brooms
supposed witches who flew in the sky…
you burned them, remember?
and you would again, given half the chance
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A new broom sweeps clean, but the old brush knows all the corners.
Pick Up That Broom and Sweep, Boy
Pick up that broom and sweep, boy.
If you wanna eat.
You gotta get sweepin'
Pick up that broom and sweep, boy.
If you wanna eat.
You gotta get sweepin
And if you don't sweep,
You ain't going to sleep.
Pick up that broom and sweep, boy.
If you wanna eat.
You gotta get sweepin'
Pick up that broom and sweep, boy.
Nobody's peepin' on the way you sweep.
And if you don't sweep,
You ain't going to sleep.
And you wont sleep,
If you don't eat.
So I suggest get off your seat...
Grab that broom and commence to sweepin'
Pick up that broom and sweep, boy.
If you wanna eat.
You gotta get sweepin'
Pick up that broom and sweep, boy.
Nobody's peepin' on the way you sweep.
And if you don't sweep,
You ain't going to sleep.
And you wont sleep,
If you don't eat.
So I suggest get off your seat...
Grab that broom and commence to sweepin'
Pick up that broom and sweep, boy.
If you wanna eat.
You gotta get sweepin
And if you don't sweep,
You ain't going to sleep.
So don't try sneakin' tippy toe on your feet,
Across this floor because it creaks.
And when that happens...
My dog Pete,
Will do his best to sink his teeth.
Right into your funky meat.
And you'll go screamin down the street.
And I'll report you to the police.
Who will bring you back here...
Once again until you sweep.
And it you don't do it,
You'll join those who've been deleted!
'You better pick up that broom,
And sweep, boy! '
~I gotcha 'boy' ol'man! ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Dark
Why do I always seek the dark?
The nice wholesome dark
Never judging; never caring
Self helping dark
The dark corners of my life
These corners are my life
Where ever I go I seek
These dark corners; my corners
They make me feel secure
Feel wanted; surrounded
At peace
Like the rest of the world is gone
Why must I use the dark?
Where do these issues come from?
Where does this sorrow come from?
Why can’t I have answers?
I need these dark corners
They are so reassuring
Their echoes speak to me; they don’t mock me
They are my dark safe corners
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mrs Snorer
Mrs Snorer
Went to School
Fell asleep in the classroom
Her teacher woke her up with a
Broom, broom, broom
As she snored, snored, snored
Mrs Snorer
snores like a
Horse, horse, horse
She took a ride on the
Bus, bus, bus
and missed the last stop
As she snored, snored, snored
Mrs Snorer
Went to bed
Lay down her big head
Turned her body round
And shook the whole house
Down, down, down
As she snored, snored, snored
Mr Snorer
Snored at home
With each snore
They had to shut
All the windows and the doors
As she snored, snored, snored
Mrs Snorer was a
Bore, bore, bore
Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For Hilma
I wanted a house
A square house
For my square things
A house with corners
To bump into you
And embrace you
But you gave me
A round one
And we got lost
poem by Tanja Bulovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Happy Ending
i cannot always be a new
broom that must sweep well
your old floors
please take note of this
i cannot always be your new
broom that must sweep well
your garbage floors
please take note of this
time will make me an old broom
and you my dirty and old floor
overladen with scratch papers and
pens with dried inks and litters
and crumpled newspapers and torn
fashion pages scattered on your rough
floors,
time makes me a old, dirty broom
and now, ruined and stained, we shall
stay together, we now belong to each
other
please take note of this happy ending.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweep the house with a broom in may and you'll sweep the luck of the house away.
A new broom sweeps clean, but an old broom knows every corner.
New broom sweep clean, but de ole broom know de corner.
Openness
a house without doors
and windows
walls and beams
entertaining some other
somber possibilities
the wind takes shape
the fluid runs and drips on the
four corners
the sun moves up and down
until the correct idea of what
a house
gets in
who once said that only
from the heart can
one really touch the sky?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Neighbor
beyond the bushes
in my garden
in front of the fence
of my house
i hear the sound of
coconut broom sweeping
dry leaves
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Deception
The lull in the dawn
Broken:
Bringing her
Smashing down to earth
Stretches herself in her bed
Hands and feet
Collide with tinned walls
This cacophony
Pulls her
Out of the bed
Chill is still there
Tightly wraps herself
With a tattered shawl
Sweeps the road
To be metalled
For a smooth walk
But herself hasn't
Taken a bath
Nor swept her floor
Throws glances
At smartly dressed
Satchel laden kids
Stops
Rests her had on the broom
Listens to their talk
Smiles
Till the broom pulls her back
Suddenly
Taken aback
Seeing the couple
Hand in hand
Pulls her hand from the broom
Looks at their smiling faces
They come
She looks
They cross
She looks
Away from her they move
She looks
Till she has lost their sight
Stretches herself
Again
A cacophony
And there she is
With the broom
poem by Sanjay Mehta
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Broom Tree
I am sitting under the broom tree watching you,
And you came along to the entrance of my love;
But like the book of the chronicles,
I will still record what i see from here for others to read.
Sheath, heat, hat, he, as, at, has, she, the, heal!
Sitting under the broom tree to see what you are doing;
Sheath, sat, eat, ate, hate, sea, ale, seal, tea!
I'm sitting under the broom tree watching you;
And like the book of the chronicles to respect your muse.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With a child in the house, all corners all full.