If everyone cleaned his own doorstep, all the streets would be clean.
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Visions
Sittin' on the doorstep
watchin' the passers-by,
the little child wonders
what she will be
before it's time to die?
In her head
she has a vision
of being a queen
or a movie star,
anything, but mean.
She's heard people say
that you can grow up
to be president someday.
But on that doorstep
no one even waves her way.
And still the visions
keep a-comin'.
She could be a dancer
or a singer
and she starts in hummin'.
Someone's heard her hummin'.
She sees 'em commin'.
'Get yourself
off of that doorstep.'
She takes the broom
and starts in sweepin'.
Deep inside
starts the weepin'
Gotta keep that
doorstep clean.
If she doesn't
how's she gonna
keep her visions?
She'll just end up
being mean.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Offshore
Come to me clean.
Clean,
Of mind, body and soul.
Cleaned...
And willing to let go,
Of attempts to row a boat...
You soak in,
As it floats...
Offshore without oars.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Clean your own doorstep before you clean someone else's.
Golden Streets Of Glory
Glory to his name, oh, holy, holy
Theres a city where the streets are paved in gold
A land where the milk and the honey flow
And a mansion which for me
cause my Bible tells the story
I just hope my feet are clean enough
To walk upon the golden streets of glory
Green meadows where the little children play
No sorrow there, just one long happy day
And none will litter there except the pure and the holy
I just hope my feet are clean enough
To walk upon the golden streets of glory
And when Ive reached my journeys end
And if Im worthy to go in
Golden streets of glory, I walk on
And the golden streets of my new home
Will lead me up to the masters throne
With the angel band Ill sing
Glory to his name, oh, holy, holy
I just hope my feet are clean enough
To walk upon the golden streets of glory
Hallelujah, I just hope my feet are clean enough
To walk upon the golden streets of glory
And when Ive reached my journeys end
And if Im worthy to go in
Golden streets of glory, Ill walk on
And the golden streets of my new home
Will lead me up to the masters throne
With the angel band Ill sing
Glory to his name, oh, holy, holy
I just hope my feet are clean enough
To walk upon the golden streets of glory
Hallelujah, I just hope my feet are clean enough
To walk upon the golden streets of glory
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If every man would sweep his own doorstep the city would soon be clean.
Streets Of Arklow
And as we walked
Through the streets of arklow
Oh the color
Of the day wore on
And our heads
Were filled with poetry
And the morning
A-comin on to dawn
And as we walked
Through the streets of arklow
And gay perfusion
In gods green land
And the gypsys rode
With their hearts on fire
They say we love to wander,
Lord we love,
Lord we love to roam...
And as we walked
Through the streets of arklow
In a drenching beauty
Rolling back til the day
And I saw your eyes
They was shining, sparkling crystal clear
And our souls were clean
And the grass did grow
And our souls were clean
And the grass did grow
And our souls were clean
And the grass did grow
And as we walked
Through the streets of arklow
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Clean
Eat clean,
Live clean,
Sleep clean,
dress clean,
Walk clean,
Learn clean,
Play clean,
Think clean,
dance clean,
Talk clean,
Sing clean,
work clean,
Because the world around you is watching what you do;
You are the only one on this earth,
So live and let us live too.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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You come before me this morning with clean hands and clean collars. I want you to have clean tongues, clean manners, clean morals and clean characters.
quote by John Burns
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A toothbrush rush
Could I try to
Save self, save us, save the world?
Let's take one soft tooth brush
and start to clean own heart
of every dark spot,
or rust stain
or the mischievous thought
before it comes to be
a putrid mould.
Brush kindly
for rebel stains
that out comes not
in tears soak.
Put more energy,
one gram of salt
and bit more energy
rub well to truly clean
until becomes pristine.
Then go to those near by
with new tooth brushes
as humble gift
and teach them, show
how you have cleaned
own soul.
Then together
take more brushes
and start to clean some more
maybe the biggest dirt of world,
own violent mind, let the clean be done
kindly, by a homely toothbrush.
Then with a peaceful heart
Done to the people of entire earth
from the pit to the top
once brushed, gurgle
and also rinse the big mouth
We can then start
with all the other
things around
Hard to select
But let's start first
To get rid of our biggest s...t
Lets make the world as well as we,
...nuclear...
Free.
Peacefully, with patience
let's give our earth clean
Love.
poem by Elena Sandu
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On the Doorstep
Midnight long is over-past
As we loiter, and the rain falls fast,
As we loiter on your doorstep,
And the rain falls fast.
Will the watchful mother hear,
As we whisper, is your mother near,
Keeping there behind the curtain
An attentive ear?
But we have so much to say,
As we linger, ere I go my way,
In the dark upon your doorstep,
We could talk till day.
There is no one in the street,
As I hold you in my arms, my sweet,
As I kiss you on your doorstep,
As I kiss you for good-night, my sweet.
poem by Arthur Symons
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Clean Up Beach
Ocean will cover the land
in California taking over the sand.
Now if we start picking up trash—
Gaia will forgive us,
for we have leaned to stash
stash our pollution were
it should be-
all of us cleaning up the planet
keeping it clean.
Remember 'Trash Circle'
the size of Texas state?
It has to be cleaned up
before it's too late.
Trash might come back to our
shores-
this is something we can't ignore.
So be kind to Gaia, Mother Earth
clean her up for her rebirth.
Then one day we can proudly say
we are good stewards of the Earth
with Sun thanking us through her rays.
poem by Christina Sunrise
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The Cleanest Man....
he is clean
he prides about the beard
that he has
just shaven
he is clean
there is no hair left on his head
no hair between his thighs
and legs
he is clean
his chest is bare now
his heart slowly
beating
he is clean as he
is empty
like a room without
furniture and
drapes
he is clean and without
sin
he who has not done
anything
and can do not wrong again...
he is clean now
for he is dead....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Chicago Sestina
I am surprised by the streets of Chicago
when the palm of winter grips them with snow
as if to forgive the city’s mistakes
and give it a canvas that’s new, white, and clean–
its fingers, the branches on all of the trees
kneading the air that blows in from the lake.
I’ve never lived next to the pulse of the lake
(until I set foot down the side of Chicago)
breathing in through the streets and out through the trees
welcoming the cool of the wet, numbing snow.
It lets my mind slip into thinking it’s clean
as if to personally forgive my mistakes.
“But what have you done to forgive your mistakes? ”
Did I ask this? Or is that the voice of the lake?
Some days, not even does it appear clean,
worn down from its tall standing neighbor, Chicago.
It scrapes at the sky, asking it for more snow
to stick to and freeze the trunks of the trees.
If I were a branch on one of these trees
incapable of making a single mistake,
I’d grab at the sky as it shook out the snow
and grow my roots thick till they tasted the lake.
But I wouldn’t bend to the force of Chicago
that’s constantly keeping me from being clean.
And what does it mean to try to be clean?
I don’t understand the stillness of the trees
when they’re being attacked by the size of Chicago
as if to glorify the city’s mistakes
that glisten like stars at night on the lake
before it all froze and was covered with snow.
Ah! To imagine how long there’s been snow.
How can something this old still feel so clean
and dance through the wind that swoops in from the lake?
Is it the kneading by the spiny branches on trees
trusting that there will be no more mistakes
that leaves these the only pure thing in Chicago?
Here comes the snow that seeks out the trees
Am I now clean? Where are my mistakes?
Chicago belongs where it lay with the lake.
poem by Brian Maloney
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Look At the Globalness of It
The war on drugs?
Of course it is working!
It's the most competitive united front,
That is working.
And successful too.
You're looking at its legality.
With a belief it will be cleaned off local
City streets.
Broaden your perception.
Look at the globalness of it!
In fact...
It's probably the only thing that is working.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Walk These Streets Alone
I walk these streets alone why U ask, because that's all i know and the reason i'm so ignorant is because him always on the go
I walk these streets alone meeting customer after customer getting in and out of random cars
I walk these streets alone as if the streets are empty as i go on my devilish duty.
I walk these streets alone clueless to the danger surrounding me, as if him invisible to any danger.
I walk the streets alone as if every person i meet sees me as a stranger.
I walk these streets alone, as sad as it may seem i prefer my own company but at times i still get lonely.
I walk these streets alone but don't feel sorry for me, for i know what i'm getting myself into. and i know the consequences if i get caught
I walk these streets alone regardless of what I've been taught...
poem by Leon Scott
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Clean Up The World
Clean Up The World
Where have we gone?
We’ve drifted away
Too many years
Nothin’ to say
Too many years
Intentional lies
Too many years
Collegiate-laundered hipplets
Drivin’ us to demise
Got to clean up the world, clean up the world
Clean up the world, clean up the world
We’ve got to put that yuppie back in its cage
Along came McRonald
We got in its way
Too many years
Puppeteers played
Too many years
Stealing us blind
Too many years
Of totalitarians smothering us from the right
Got to clean up the world, clean up the world
Clean up the world, clean up the world
We’ve got to put that yuppie back in its cage
Their Wall Street money’s been holdin’ us fast
Ideals shallow and vain
They sell us all just to make it last
Revolution of ‘89 today
We got to clean up the world, clean up the world
Clean up the world, clean up the world
We’ve got to put that yuppie back in its cage
Self-centered cosmos
Material gain
Too many years
Deflecting their blame
Too many years
Stuffin’ their cart
Too many years
Deceit inside the head
Instead of love in their heart
Got to clean up the world, clean up the world
Clean up the world, clean up the world
We’ve got to put that yuppie back in its grave
Copyright 1992 Will Fiala
poem by Will Fiala
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Black-streets I
Black-streets, actress, rest, rests, bless, best, east, crabs, less, bats;
Let it be clean and learn from my sweet love!
For, there is no plcae like home.
Black-streets, black, street, streets, ace, aces, bat, era, are, ear, ears!
In the land of peace and in the land of joy;
But listen to me when i do speak,
For, true love is better than the bullets of war! !
Black-streets, eras, sea, seas, tree, trees, see, sees, lack, lacks, sack;
With samples along to guide you my love! !
For, your steps out there should be guided by the real sytles of life.
Black-streets, sacks, Blacks, as, back, backs, at, set, sets, sat, seat;
And like the real taste of love in the land of peace!
But, try to live up to the expectations of the laid down laws.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Just Like This Right Boot
Where do you plan to go now...
With your gossip to whisper?
And when will you begin to clean...
Notes and other items off your desk.
Make sure it's cleaned of everything.
And look back at this time in your life...
And what you 'have' and have not addressed.
Because ahead for you is a reality you will not believe!
That is coming to you on a track that will not distract you.
Just like this right boot you are about to leave but should take it.
Here! You might want to replace, The heel. It looks as if it is broken!
Something's wrong with it! €€€ððððð€€€Even the stitching is loose.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Gorbals
A lad from the Gorbals
Years ago from these streets I did grow
Rough and tumble every day
Life was hard in every way
Winters dark cold and long
But from these streets I belong
Sandstone building dark with suit
Gas light lit the neighbourhood
Glasgow’s dark and dingy streets
Football played and hide and seek
Lassies dancing curly hair
We had great fun and not a care
This was all so long ago
And places change as we all know
Sand blasted building nice and clean
This is not the place of my childhood dreams
Chellaston
21 04 2010
poem by Jim O'Donnell
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Toilet
Every one
use
The toilet
Clean
Take water
And clean...
Clean is
Importent
her clean
Is not
Impress other's...
It is helpfull for
Healthy good
Life...
For clean
Toilet...
All ways
With your use...!
Some
human are
Use
The toilet
At animals...
You...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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