Rules: Write a poem for national poetry month on the topic or form described. Each poem should appear as a separate reply to this thread. The goal is to, at the end of the month have written 30 poems for National Poetry Month.

Topic 26: write a poem inspired by a household chore you enjoy or loathe.
Form : any
Line requirements: 8 lines or more

Questions?

Knight’s Lowly Quest

A formerly imposing knight
has been ejected off his horse.
The vassal staggers listlessly,
abandoning a broken sword.

He feels like a longbow archer,
with once keen vision, who's gone blind;
a lost wayfarer wandering
without a lantern as his guide.

A Crusader slumps disparaged,
devoid of a religious quest;
with all of the earth's magic gone,
a wizard hobbles powerless.

The toothless troubadour mumbles
glumly, with nothing to extol.
This great lover hangs impotent,
while scouring the toilet bowl.

My hate for vacuums knows no bounds,
no dust is worth that clumsy beast,
I cringe at it's obnoxious sounds.
I'd rather cook a full-blown feast,
the kitchen humming in my head:
the hissing pan for meat or crepe,
the soothing squeak of dough for bread
against the board, the beater's scrape.
Alone I clear each meal's debris
and scrub the porcelain sink, again
the dinner cleanup's left to me.
I guess I really can't complain...
He vacuums carpets, washes clothes,
two gifts more dear than gem or rose.

(04-27-2014, 04:02 AM)ellajam Wrote:  My hate for vacuums knows no bounds,
no dust is worth that clumsy beast,
I cringe at it's obnoxious sounds.
I'd rather cook a full-blown feast,
the kitchen humming in my head:
the hissing pan for meat or crepe,
the soothing squeak of dough for bread
against the board, the beater's scrape.
Alone I clear each meal's debris
and scrub the porcelain sink, again
the dinner cleanup's left to me.
I guess I really can't complain...
He vacuums carpets, washes clothes,
two gifts more dear than gem or rose.

Haha aww this one's cute Ella! I wish mine washed clothes! ;D

(04-27-2014, 04:27 AM)justcloudy Wrote:  

(04-27-2014, 04:02 AM)ellajam Wrote:  My hate for vacuums knows no bounds,
no dust is worth that clumsy beast,
I cringe at it's obnoxious sounds.
I'd rather cook a full-blown feast,
the kitchen humming in my head:
the hissing pan for meat or crepe,
the soothing squeak of dough for bread
against the board, the beater's scrape.
Alone I clear each meal's debris
and scrub the porcelain sink, again
the dinner cleanup's left to me.
I guess I really can't complain...
He vacuums carpets, washes clothes,
two gifts more dear than gem or rose.

Haha aww this one's cute Ella! I wish mine washed clothes! ;D

I hit the jackpot.

Yes it is true in my younger years,
when I’d not learned moderation,
I’d down the brew quicker than you,
as though I had no patience.
Then at those times my stomach would heave
and I’d begin to falter,
so I get down on my knees and pray,
at the porcelain altar. .
Then the next day, I’d wake and say,
can’t stand without leaning,
And then I’d plead, “Be a dear,
and give the toilet a cleaning!”

(04-27-2014, 05:03 AM)Erthona Wrote:  Yes it is true in my younger years,
when I’d not learned moderation,
I’d down the brew quicker than you,
as though I had no patience.
Then at those times my stomach would heave
and I’d begin to falter,
so I get down on my knees and pray,
at the porcelain altar. .
Then the next day, I’d wake and say,
can’t stand without leaning,
And then I’d plead, “Be a dear,
and give the toilet a cleaning!”

ha, that must have gone over well.

Stuck in the bathroom

Have you seen the bleach?
check my hands
they smell of bleach,
fold the towels
fold the towels
check my hands
they smell of bleach,
wipe the toilet
too long, stop
too long, stop
1,2,3,
wash my hands
rinse the sink
flush the toilet
1,2,3,
flush the toilet
fold the towels
check my hands
they smell of bleach,
fold the towels
move on
fold the towels
move on
1,2,3,
move on
1,2,3,
rinse the sink
rinse the sink
flush the toilet
wash my hands
check my hands
fold the towels
rinse the sink
leave the bathroom,
leave,
towels
leave,
towels
1,2,3,
check my hands
check my hands
fold the towels
leave
1,2,3,
leave
check my hands,
check my hands,
1,2,3,
check my hands,
bleach
bleach
can't smell bleach
have you seen the bleach?
have you seen the bleach?

(04-27-2014, 07:31 AM)Keith Wrote:  Stuck in the bathroom

Have you seen the bleach?
check my hands
they smell of bleach,
fold the towels
fold the towels
check my hands
they smell of bleach,
wipe the toilet
too long, stop
too long, stop
1,2,3,
wash my hands
rinse the sink
flush the toilet
1,2,3,
flush the toilet
fold the towels
there not right
check my hands
they smell of bleach,
fold the towels
move on
fold the towels
move on
1,2,3,
move on
1,2,3,
rinse the sink
rinse the sink
flush the toilet
wash my hands
check my hands
fold the towels
rinse the sink
leave the bathroom,
leave,
towels
leave,
towels
1,2,3,
check my hands
check my hands
fold the towels
leave
1,2,3,
leave
check my hands,
check my hands,
1,2,3,
check my hands,
bleach
bleach
can't smell bleach
have you seen the bleach?
have you seen the bleach?

Ha ha, I love the smell of bleach in the bathroom. I can lend you my Tilex. Good luck with the OCD. We will check on you every few hours...

When I was a keen gardener
I planted these, my fruiting trees.
Today I am a harvester
of ripe fruit from ‘mid the leaves.
This chore I find mostly pleasing
but now what is this I find?
A hole! Something’s been eating
into the middle from the rind.
It’s probably rotten fruit fly
for the pest’s common ‘round here,
although so far we’ve gotten by
it would seem they’ve struck this year.
Next year I’ll spray the trees with bait
and death shall be the fruit flies’ fate.

I hate this peom nearly as much as i hate any form of house work.

There is no single household chore
that stands out as a particular bore.
Each hour spent is a complete waste
and generally puts a scowl on my face.

What is the point of all that mindless cleaning
sorting and un- heaping to leave a place gleaming?
Housework is like some sort of perpetual curse
that is daily returned to a state of grime or worse.

I will clean out the animal pens with pleasure,
or roll a field for hours and call it my leisure.
But do not ask me to muck out the house,
to clean up after you makes me grouse.