"swiffer" poems
In the linoleum dungeon
Sparkling swiffer creature
Squirts the floor
Calls polyphemic odors
Opening
And the crazy stench of allspice
Biting lime and draconian breath
Burning the nostril coins
Copper shield bending the cilia
Oven mitts plastered with narcotic grease and decomposing meals
Of yesteryear
Unclear
She speaks between steaming inspirations
Hoo-huh
Exhale the fire
It's'a hotta pasta lasagna
As the helicopters flap their handy rotories
Fast fractal birds
In circumfereferential motion
Cool down our mouths
Ice cubes in the juice
Plop a shot of gin
With that silly child's grin
And the room slowly cants
Begins to spin
As we laugh at the spots we cannot
Pin
Staring at the stellar mountain chains
Thrusted stone
Busted metal
Stabbing up into the sky
Competition
Where is the home beyond the horizon
Where we ate good meals
Not made alone
With parental guidance
As the days were stolen
By the erosive time
That spinning wheel
Well,
It's deep in us now
And the cells metastasized
Realized
That heaven is hell.
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 3:51 PM UTC
getting stuck
restless in the dust
stirred by soft touches, hard to handle
flurries of hesitant spontaneity-
take flight in the heated tango of 6:17 p.m.
will the billows settle among the fabric
or will it settle for nothing, yearning for fresh winds
floating endless on breathy quotes
wisdom of ancient used shirt sleeves
I believe I have a chance
to choose
May 24, 2012
May 24, 2012 at 1:28 AM UTC
sometimes love can be evil
but don't get discouraged don't blame all us people
deceitful to trust and be mad when it's lost
you are the giver taker and receiver
you make your losses
and you chance your tosses
until you are dead you are your own believer
your own lovely keeper
no maids for your mess you are the only sweeper
use swiffer be swifter don't sniffle don't fall
don't let the dust get in your cracks on the wall
hang up some paintings a picture or four
each of your memories stick them in drawers
no room for bad company kick out remorse
open their door
vacuum the floor
clear out your vents
and make way for what's more
spring cleaning is fun
isnt clutter a bore?
not knowing what's here, and never getting much more
May 26, 2020
May 26, 2020 at 6:39 PM UTC
It's short
it's sweet
It's the perfect treat
For our last goodbye
I'm not going to lie
I really hope you don't die
Growing up we had our fair share of fights
With flying slippers
...and that broken swiffer
But I think we turned out all right
You're not the strongest nor the smartest
Though you're much stronger than me.
And I know you'll fight the hardest
When you're fighting for our right to be free
It is said there is a friend unlike any other
One that sticks closer than a brother
Perhaps some day this will be true
But I think it's almost impossible to do
Cause I have to say,
to my brother born in May,
I've never had a closer friend than you.
So here's farewell, not goodbye
There is only do, never try
Stay strong, don't die
And of course, semper fi
5/20/16
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 9:43 AM UTC
There was a smile in your eyes
a reflection
that was allowed to last about
three minutes and thirty-two seconds
before you said you needed
to swiffer the floors later
and then it was tucked away
under rolled up sleeves
that did dishes
and wiped counters
only to return
when contemplating how clean
everything would be
if what did the sweeping
were my hands and knees.
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 3:07 PM UTC
Eyelashes battle like trees for the sunlight.
Theres dust in your eyes and your swiffer just wont cut it.
Knowledge is amazing, even one byte.
It'll set you free, so flit.
Eyelashes calm like an ever watching storm.
Theres dust in your hands and its to heavy to lift.
Trapped indefinitely in a chrysalis form.
Waiting to spread your wings, now flit.
Eyelashes open wide like night engulfing day.
Theres dust on your wings and your beginning to emit.
You've grown to much, minuscule things cant block your way.
Freedom radiates from you, so just flit.
You made it, Mc hammer too legit to quit.
Your a full fledge butterfly, now do what you see fit.
Dec 16, 2011
Dec 16, 2011 at 8:54 PM UTC
My brain flows like the current of the ocean
thoughts and memories constantly in motion.
Ideas tend to come and go
some are nice and deep yet others are shallow.
I have a unique way of thinking
I can give advice confidently without blinking.
Yet somehow my own problems are too complex
I look at them through foggy specs
because my brain battles with my heart
as I slowly fall apart
from not knowing whether to surf the wave
or to go with my heart and be brave.
My mind says one thing heart says another
slightly contradicting like a father and a mother.
Both want what they view is best for you but they differ
while I'm here stuck with a mess that can't get cleaned by swiffer.
Right now my heart is broken so there's only one thing to do
which is surf the waves of my brain until I get over you.
My situations like an whirlpool dragging me down
but this young man refuses to drown.
So I write poems for they're my life preserver,
and I'll swim on because I guess I don't deserve her.
These are thee waves that crash in my head
every night before I go to bed.
Sometimes I feel like I'm going insane
but it's just the waves that are crashing in my brain.
May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 2:51 PM UTC
I swiffer the fake wood floors
using the handle as a microphone
tearing up the stage in my own home
for the first time in a few years
I don't feel that I've grown one bit
I spit out every lyric
like I'm sixteen and stupid
buying her those tulips
then the song ends
and I'm
almost twenty-one
again
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 1:22 PM UTC
I had a dream.
I don’t remember most dreams.
I was cleaning the floors of heaven.
It seemed a mixed blessing,
I was in heaven, after all
but I was cleaning the floors.
It was a part time job,
I knew that intuitively.
I don’t mind house cleaning, heaven cleaning.
It’s calm work, kind of Zen.
Are we supposed to think of religions in heaven?
At first I scrubbed on my hands and knees.
The floors are soft in heaven, like golden gym mats.
Then I thought of it, and suddenly I had a swiffer-wet mop,
just like that - and the pad never wore out.
After a while, I had an iPod, and AirPods too.
Then a daiquiri - a banana daiquiri with a pastel rainbow umbrella.
They make rapturous daiquiris in the hereafter - they never run out.
‘Heavenly,’ I thought, snorting out a dizzy laugh.
.
.
Songs for this:
The River of Dreams Billy Joel
If the Lord Wasn't Walking By My Side by Elvis Presley
Jul 7, 2025
Jul 7, 2025 at 4:30 PM UTC
it's when the dust gets as high as the baseboards
or the rust corrodes the pipes
and they start leaking
I get buzy
whip my swiffer sweeper and knock the crust off this
apartment
grab my pipe wrench and start tweaking
on the leaky faucet
it's when the electric gets cut off
I can't see the dust or the water
dripping
is when I get lazy
set still
I don't care
a **** bit
Jan 14, 2017
Jan 14, 2017 at 9:53 PM UTC
Immaculate Reception
Oh No! that rare call family saying they will drop by after the mall
Sudden rush begins to brush away that dust appearance of neatness is a must
No time for detail stick to retail don't go wholesale, reduce the clutter so they won't whisper or mutter, just throw loose linens in the closet in the hall
Give that mop a quick romp dance the broom around the room ,toilet bowl needs a bit of bleach to at least whiten the rust
Always keep a clean kitchen helps with quickness and reduces sickness, open a door a window for the air so new freshness isn't just aerosol
Begin to brighten instead of frighten lift the gloom with a twirl of a vacuum, straighten a mess just for the guest not the naval white gloved
Little messy not to dressy merely a side effect of bachelor life, now in a hurry to arrange in a flurry make the tornado appear as a minor squall
Swiftly swiffer wiping the upper along with lower, lift loose lint sets my mind at ease, giving it all a fast pass to not appear over scrubbed
Fast and furious dust a thon to not appear to be living life to soft and luxurious, wash not wax is not lax ,minor buffing not the complete overhaul
Shake the rugs loosen the linens rearrange the many pillows, make haste no time to waste room already appeared chaste, pillows from the dryer will pass for fluffed
Last minute set the music for a fresh vibe coffee and cookies to welcome the tribe,stage is set they won't judge for that stray hairball
Glad that didn't drive me mad, not much fuss over a little dust or hub bub for a fast scrub, it won't truly matter if it was clutter or spatter, I just realized I am still in my pajamas and my hair is not brushed. R.C.
Apr 1, 2021
Apr 1, 2021 at 9:33 AM UTC