Housework
Wash the dishes dear.
A bard doesn’t do dishes.
William Shakespeare did,
wrote his best work when cleaning windows,
for his wife.
I didn’t know that darling; anyway
windows look ok to me.
I didn’t mean the windows but the dishes.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Wistfully Watching
They explore the world
through windows,
church windows,
school windows,
two up, two down windows,
castle windows,
large windows,
small windows.
They see it all,
from blameless to guilty,
from noble to treacherous,
through windows.
From skyscraper windows,
to basement flat windows,
from paupers windows,
and palace windows
they watch, absorb, suck it in.
Later when they have grown
they will remember,
try to empathise,
rationalise
decipher the coded metaphors,
but some day
they will be demoralised
by the windows of life.
There they sit __ wistfully watching __
the children
of our times.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Walking On The Spot
All the nights we slip
Slipping down the dark halls
Fingers point from old windows
An errie shadow calls
Walking on the spot
Make sure that Im alive
Moving every bone in my body
From side to side...
Chorus
Will we be in our minds when the dawn breaks?
Can we look the milkman in the eye?
The world is somehow different
You have all been changed
Before my very eyes.
Walk around your home
And pour yourself a drink
Fire one more topedo, baby
Wash the kitchen sink
Lounging on the sofa, maybe
See the living room die
Dishes are unwashed and broken
All you do is cry...
Repeat chorus
Instrumental break
Dishes are unwashed and broken
All you do is cry...
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Crowded House
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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030810 I'm Alone It's Not Fair
i'm running cold water on my hands
playing with scented soap bubbles
let me wash this dishes instead
while i reminisce days you were here
you're standing on that corner by fridge
with yellow towel drying dishes and glasses
then out of the blue we ran outside
we watched balloons passed by
very colorful once, i wonder if they saw us
from up there with all that billowing noise
my neck got stiff, you went and sit
then somebody scream 'flooding'
yes, water running out of the kitchen
drain clog up with unfinished food
it took us the whole day cleaning
i was poof and you're still smiling
it's very comforting being there
now i'm alone it's not really fair
poem by Manonton Dalan
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My life right now is, I wouldn't say reduced to food, but my duties in life are that I wake up, cook breakfast, clean the dishes, prepare lunch, clean those dishes, go to the market, get fresh produce, cook dinner, clean those dishes and then sleep if I can. And I love it. I actually adore it.
quote by Heath Ledger
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Big Bad Bill (is Sweet William Now)
Well,way down yonder in louisville,
Lived a cat named big bad bill,
I wants to tell ya,
Ah the cat was rough and tough and would strutt his stuff
Had the whole town scared to death,
When he walked by they all held their breath,
Hes a fighting man, sure enough
And then bill got himself a wife,
Now he leads a different life...
Big bad bill is sweet william now,
Married life done changed him somehow,
Hes the man the town used to fear,
Now they all call him sweet pappa willie dear,
Stronger than samson I declare,
Til the brown skinned woman,
Bobbed his hair
Big bad bill dont fight any more,( no he dont )
Doing the dishes,mopping up that floor ( yes he is )
Well he used to go out drinking,
Looking for a fight,
Now he gotta see that woman,everynight,
Big bad bill is sweet william now
Ah play it boys.
I likes that jazz.
Big bad bill dont fight any more,( no he dont )
Doing the dishes,mopping up that floor ( yes he is )
Well he used to go out drinking,
Looking for a fight,
Now he gotta see that woman,everynight,
Big bad bill is sweet william now ( doing the dishes )
Big bad bill is sweet william now ( mop up dat floor )
Big bad bill is sweet william now
Cha........ yeah!
song performed by by Van Halen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Big Bad Bill
Well,way down yonder in louisville,
Lived a cat named big bad bill,
I wants to tell ya,
Ah the cat was rough and tough and would strutt his stuff
Had the whole town scared to death,
When he walked by they all held their breath,
He's a fighting man, sure enough
And then bill got himself a wife,
Now he leads a different life...
Big bad bill is sweet william now,
Married life done changed him somehow,
He's the man the town used to fear,
Now they all call him sweet pappa willie dear,
Stronger than samson i declare,
Til the brown skinned woman,
Bobbed his hair
Big bad bill dont fight any more,( no he dont )
Doing the dishes,mopping up that floor ( yes he is )
Well he used to go out drinking,
Looking for a fight,
Now he gotta see that woman,everynight,
Big bad bill is sweet william now
Ah play it boys.
I likes that jazz.
Big bad bill dont fight any more,( no he dont )
Doing the dishes,mopping up that floor ( yes he is )
Well he used to go out drinking,
Looking for a fight,
Now he gotta see that woman,everynight,
Big bad bill is sweet william now ( doing the dishes )
Big bad bill is sweet william now ( mop up dat floor )
Big bad bill is sweet william now
Cha........ yeah!
song performed by by Van Halen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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'I hate discussions of feminism that end up with who does the dishes,' she said. So do I. But at the end, there are always the damned dishes.
quote by Marilyn French
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Housewife
Housewife, up at the crack of dawn
Getting her man ready to go
Kisses him good bye
And soon he's gone
Off to work for the day
Now, it's quiet for a bit
Just when, I would like to sit
Kids are up, and ready to go
Off to school, and soon their gone
Now, the dishes
Then the clothes
Before, I know it they'll be home
Supper to serve, dishes to be done
Help with school lessons, everyone
What a day it has been
Now, the TV just went
poem by Sarah Rodenburg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Windows To Bill Gates Or Paul Allen And History Of Windows
window's leaves
windows of open sea
windows as far as possible
windows easier
windows update
window shopper
window tablet
windows on the world
window seat
(Music by The Implicit Order) .
poem by Nicolas Grenier
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Windows
Through the windows you see so much.
Revealing love with the lightest touch.
Through them you see so much truth daren't be spoke.
I sit and look through the windows.
Seeing through all the innuendos.
Reveling in the sweet cresendo.
As I stare through the windows.
The boughs break, and in my heart I celebrate.
As I realize it will not break.
For hours through those windows I could stare.
Worlds a plenty are there to share.
In awe and splendor I now stare.
Through those windows a bright sun glares.
How much longer do I dare,
to stare through these windows that show me things so fair?
poem by Michael McParland
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My New Job
After I retired from the factory-I planned to be a couch potato-But soon my plans were changed-By my dear wife Evelyn Ada-She tied an apron on me-Though it was against my wishes-She pointed to the kitchen-And said go wash the dishes-She said I cook and clean-I've got enough to do-And now the dishwashing job-Has been assigned to you.
poem by Joy Thacker
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Hon, There's A Big Ol' Moon Out Tonight!
I know you said
I can't go bowling
And you'd rather I didn't
Go out and have
A drink or two…
You want me to wash
And dry the dishes
Cause you've got
Something else you'd rather do
Well dear, I really respect
Your opinion… and love
The many things
You give me to do
I even love
the apron you gave me
And you look waaaay better
Wearing pants
Than I do
So dear, I really respect
Your wisdom and
I've got a question
Or two
Have you noticed
The clothes line missing
Lately?
And the concrete blocks
Missing from the front porch too?
Howsabout we go for
A boat ride tonight… and Hon?
Does this rag smell
like chloroform to you?
poem by David Whalen
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To a Prospective Cook
Curly locks, Curly Locks, wilt thou be ours?
Thou shalt not wash dishes, nor yet weed the flowers,
But stand in the kitchen and cook a fine meal,
And ride every night in an automobile.
Curly Locks, Curly Locks, come to us soon!
Thou needest not to rise until mid-afternoon;
Thou mayest be Croatian, Armenian, or Greek;
Thy guerdon shall be what thy askest per week.
Curly Locks, Curly Locks, give us a chance!
Thou shalt not wash windows, nor iron my pants.
Oh, come to the cosiest of seven-room bowers,
Curly Locks, Curly Locks, wilt thou be ours?
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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Cleaning Windows
Oh, the smell of the bakery from across the street
Got in my nose
As we carried our ladders down the street
With the wrought-iron gate rows
I went home and listened to jimmie rodgers in my lunch-break
Bought five woodbines at the shop on the corner
And went straight back to work.
Oh, sam was up on top
And I was on the bottom with the v
We went for lemonade and paris buns
At the shop and broke for tea
I collected from the lady
And I cleaned the fanlight inside-out
I was blowing saxophone on the weekend
In that down joint.
Whats my line?
Im happy cleaning windows
Take my time
Ill see you when my love grows
Baby dont let it slide
Im a working man in my prime
Cleaning windows (number a hundred and thirty-six)
I heard leadbelly and blind lemon
On the street where I was born
Sonny terry, brownie mcghee,
Muddy waters singin Im a rolling stone
I went home and read my christmas humphreys book on zen
Curiosity killed the cat
Kerouacs dharma bums and on the road
Whats my line?
Im happy cleaning windows
Take my time
Ill see you when my love grows
Baby dont let it slide
Im a working man in my prime
Cleaning windows...
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crediting Delusions Has Become Their Debt
It's difficult to rid the table,
Of an exclusive feast.
It's difficult to tell those seated,
The feast they eat is no longer free.
Chores given are refused,
To wash dirty dishes.
Participating in a clean up...
Many who sat dismiss this.
And the waiters and the cooks,
From them have gone.
And those who are left to pay the bill...
Are not accustomed to what's going on!
And no one amongst them,
Has skills to combine...
To prepare a meal.
Or can produce a dime,
From empty pockets they all feel.
Since crediting delusions has become their debt.
And no one can leave,
Until all payments have been met.
And coming to collect,
Appear to be...
Chinese?
To remove everything unquestionably made,
In China!
The crystal.
Dishes!
And menus too.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What's The Need To Save For A Rainy Day?
What's the need to save for a rainy day?
Or keep good dishes to look at,
And never use.
Just to look at...
And never ever use.
To collect good stuff that has never been touched?
Makes little sense when no one visits much,
To appreciate what's valued but does collect dust.
And when those gold trimmed cups begin to rust up,
Who then would wish to sip...
From a cup used that could be chipped on their visit?
I would rather lick tea from a bowl if I knew this.
Whoever got a benefit without a taking of a risk?
Whoever took a risk and not received a benefit?
Just to look at and to never use 'something'...
Like a covering of chairs to plastic wrap,
Who can sit comfortably on top of that?
To look at and to never use 'something'!
What is the risk?
Where's the benefit in this?
What's the need to save for a rainy day?
Or keep good dishes to look at...
And never be used.
Just to look at and to never use 'something'...
Like a covering of chairs to plastic wrap,
Who can sit comfortably on top of that?
Or keep good dishes never touched.
And all they do is collect dust.
What's the need to save for a rainy day?
Or keep good dishes...
To look at and never use.
What is the risk?
Where's the benefit in this?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Broken Windows Shattered Mirrors
Broken windows shattered mirrors
The tiny slivers fall like tears
They cut me till my arms run red
They make me wish that I was dead
And though I try to carry on
I know my time here's almost gone
Broken windows shattered mirrors
Broken windows shattered mirrors
I'm surrounded by these fears
I know I shouldn't be afraid
I feel like I'm locked up in a cage
I push and pull try to get out
I scream until I just can't shout
Broken windows shattered mirrors
Broken windows shattered mirrors
I'll have bad luck seven years
I know it's just a superstition
But I also know it's pure intuition
That made me stay not fade away
So I could live another day
Broken windows shattered mirrors
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
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Man Your Garbage
Your the left over that no one eats
You just rot in the fridge
Until someone throws it away
Your the dirty dishes that no one
Want to clean up
Cause the left overs are still in the pan
Your the trash that stinks up the house
Your the junk that I need to throw away
But don't have the heart to
Your everything that I don't need
And yet your still here
Stinking up the place and rotting away
It's time to start cleaning up the place
And I'm gonna start by
Throwing all your stuff out the window
So don't be surprised if all your stuff
Is in a with all of left overs
And dirty dishes
And the trash
And the junk
All the stuff that's garbage
Including all your stuff that crowds up my place
Frost Roses
Ice Roses
Frost on windows? Not where I live now, but where
I grew up, winter windows had thick layers of ice.
And in mornings, before anyone got out of bed, I
carved landscape and faces and saw my work fade
slowly away, by noon I could see the landscape
I had carved through clear windows, the mountain’s
stream, frozen solid now, and trees; mother’s face
also as she was busy in the kitchen baking bread.
I do not miss the cold Nordic land I came from, but
wish windows here too have frost roses, or be as
blank as a new page I could write. “I love you on.”
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Steamy Windows
(tony joe white)
Well I was thinkin bout parking the other night
We was out on a back road
Me and my lady was just gettin right
All systems on overload
Radio blasting in the front seat
Turnin out the music fine
We were snuggled up in the back seat
Makin up for lost time
Steamy windows
Zero visiblity
Steamy windows
Comin from the body heat
You can wine and dine a lady all night
With good intent
But theres something about a rendezvous on a back road
That gets mighty intense
Steamy windows
Aint nobody can see
Steamy windows
Comin from the body heat
Theres a sound outside the front door
And I know its just the wind
But it makes us wanna snuggle just a little bit closer
And it starts all over again
Steamy windows
Zero visiblity
Steamy windows
Comin from the body heat
Steamy windows
Zero visiblity
Steamy windows
Comin from the body heat
Steamy windows...
Steamy windows
Comin from the body heat
Aint nobody can see...
song performed by by Kenny Chesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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