a metaphor for Lent
get the broom
and the duster and the
trashcan
my dear,
it is time to sweep
and clean our rooms....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
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
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
New broom sweep clean, but de ole broom know de corner.
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
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
A new broom sweeps clean, but an old broom knows every corner.
A new broom sweeps clean, but an old broom knows the corners.
Packing Blankets
Today is a lovely day
Start up the car with the sun
Packing blankets and dirty sheets
A roomful of dust and a broom to sweep up
All the troubles you and I have seen
Cross when the drawbridge light is green
Dont look back to that messed-up scene
Packing blankets and dirty sheets
A roomful of dust and a broom to sweep up
All the troubles you and I have seen
And all our troubles will be gone
Blowing out over the bridge
Floating up into the sky
Making the storm clouds cry
Put out that smoke and breath some air
Get a new name and cut your hair
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sweep the house with a broom in may and you'll sweep the luck of the house away.
New Broom
We need a new broom
To sweep it all clean
We need a beat boom
We need a new scheme
Break all the deadlocks
And spill all the beer
Mr ditko was right
Mr a so near
Break out the paints and the brushes
And spill out your hearts
No amount of soft soap
Can ever give you a fresh start
We are walking on a tight rope
We can slip beyond religion
The answers in your cranium
And not on independent television
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Choice Is Yours
i cant take the gun
from your hand...
cant take your finger
from the trigger...
i cant cut down the rope
you've tied to the rafter....
i cant remove the darkness
you're clinging to with
all of your might....
the 'self' that's lying to you
stands in the way....
it seems easier to stay
in your cell... than
to break free and live....
but life is not what it seems!
you only have that which
you let go of.... only know
that which you reveal....
the choice is yours!
i stand here with a broom
waiting to sweep clean your cell....
with a prayer to take the empty nest
from the branches of your soul.
the choice is yours...
i can only walk beside you!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
a poem for allan jimenez (written in Arvisu House,1981)
If you open my door
Without knocking and
You simply come in
Without myself
What would you say?
It’s been a time
We cleaned rooms
Scrubbed toilet tiles
Into the desired whiteness
Of saints and souls
We designed rooms
Where no rain
Can get in
And surprise us
Of its pouring
About the damp
About the wet
Or the colds we get
We cannot imagine
Accidents do happen
Despite strict precautions
Of the perfect prefect
Of the other sect
We cannot situate
We at wrong hours
Inside wrong rooms
Talking about wrongs
And we talk
All about us and
It talks all about us
The stay
Silent and still
The closed gate
That must by now
Be opened
Or I get
Muriatic and drink it
As my morning milk
Crazy
Now if you happen
To come into my room
Without myself
As I have gone
Far elsewhere
Without myself
Leaving any note
Or sign that I would
Be coming back
To this room
Clean and tidy
What else can you say?
What else would I say?
I cannot promise
I cannot scare you
Elsewhere I go
With another routine
Hi, hello, how are you?
Anyway
The scheduled morning prayers
Of this sad house
Clean and tidy
Shall recite themselves
Perfectly
Without me
Or us
And sure
Everything everything
Would still be all right
All right.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sweep Away Your Own Debris
So clear you were not here,
When the trenches were dug.
And when the heat appeared,
Not a dropp of sweat...
Came from your brow.
And you expect my attention,
To listen to your delayed intentions!
And you expect my time to mention this...
Now?
Too much of what you have,
And take for granted...
Has been made easy for you to judge.
Including my activities.
But in my life,
What you say and offer...
Has not been made my priority.
Not to influence me to budge!
Your seriousness is elementary to me.
And there is something to be said,
About those who toiled from the old school!
Who learned to use their minds...
And not toys to use as tools to advance fools.
My path has never been paved,
With options.
Nor was it ever paved before time to it I gave.
And any options appearing,
Are those I made!
You show up to discuss,
How I should approach 'my' adventure.
When you display no ambition...
To pick up a broom,
And sweep away your own debris!
That's why I prefer you not to be around me.
To distract with aspects of your own insecurities.
Don't attempt to use my energy.
Sweep away your own debris!
Sweep away your own debris!
Or go elsewhere to play.
Just get away from around me.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Seeing Outside
The moon and the fog create
high up, a window;
a window which shows the eye
that stitches together
the outer and the inner,
that makes breath
seamless with thought
and dusts the windows
made from living tree bark
with a feather-duster of frost.
It seems so silly
to use a feather-duster
on solid, uninterrupted brown-
the proof that one need not see
through any window
to see outside.
2 august 08
poem by Rebekah Gamble
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Wish You Were Here
I sent you a postcard
Thought it would be funny
Would have sent a souvenir
But they took all my money
It's pretty warm down here but it ain't sunny
And I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
I tried to call you
I tried to call you
Long distance operators that only stall you
Besides the damn rates are so high
They just appall you
And I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
And I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
It started out a nice vacation
Left the station right on time
Can't get a ticket to get me home, dear
They just don't have too many flights from twilight zone, dear
So don't forget to feed my cats
Spot and Jerome, dear
And I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
Having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
Having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
Seeing all the sights here
I'm getting lonely
I'd show you all the film I took if they would only
Let me go home
Dear, sincerely
I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
King Of The Road
Trailers for sale or rent,
Rooms to let - 50 cents,
No phone, no pool, no pets,
Ain't got no cigarettes, ah but
Two hours of pushing broom
buys an 8 by 12 four-bit room
He's a man of means by no means
King of the road.
Third box car midnight train
Destination Bangor, Maine
Old worn-out suits and shoes,
Don't pay no union dues.
He smokes old stogies he has found
Short, but not too big around
He's a man of means by no means
King of the road
(He knows) Every engineer on every train
All of their children and all of their names
And every hang-out in every town
Every lock that ain't locked
When no one's around.
I say, Trailers for sale or rent,
Rooms to let - 50 cents,
No phone, no pool, no pets,
Ain't got no cigarettes.
I've got two hours of pushing broom
buys an 8 by 12 four-bit room
He's a man of means by no means
King of the road.
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Broom, the Shovel, the Poker and the Tongs
The Broom and the Shovel, the Poker and Tongs,
They all took a drive in the Park,
and they each sang a song, Ding-a-dong, Ding-a-dong,
Before they went back in the dark.
Mr Poker he sate quite upright in the coach,
Mr Tongs made a clatter and clash,
Miss Shovel was dressed all in black (with a brooch),
Mrs Broom was in blue (with a sash).
Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong!
And they all sang a song!
'O Shovely so lovely!' the Poker he sang,
'You have perfectly conquered my heart!
Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong! If you're pleased with my song,
I will feed you with cold apple tart!
When you scrape up the coals with a delicate sound,
You enrapture my life with delight!
Your nose is so shiny! your head is so round!
And your shape is so slender and bright!
Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong!
Ain't you pleased with my song?'
'Alas! Mrs Broom!' sighed the Tongs in his song,
'O is it because I'm so thin,
And my legs are so long - Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong!
That you don't care about me a pin?
Ah! fairest of creatures, when sweeping the room,
Ah! why don't you heed my complaint!
Must you needs be so cruel, you beautiful Broom,
Because you are covered with paint!
Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong!
You are certainly wrong!'
Mrs Broom and Miss Shovel together they sang,
'What nonsense you're singing today!'
Said the Shovel, 'I'll certainly hit you a bang!'
Said the Broom, 'And I'll sweep you away!'
So the Coachman drove homeward as fast as he could,
Perceiving their anger with pain;
But they put on the kettle, and little by little,
They all became happy again.
Ding-a-dong! Ding-a-dong!
There's an end of my song!
poem by Edward Lear
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!