take a broom to the floorboards of my songbird heart. you will find there all the bits and pieces of it people tasted and did not like, the bitter sawdust of a house half-built. feel them in your fingers, cradle them between the nooks. blow. they spread like ashes in the wind. close your eyes. breathe. they are stardust now. they are peace.
The girl’s hands went back and forth, sweeping the dirt off the sidewalk and into a small pile, then away from sight. The sun was strong on the back of his head and he didnt seem to care. He’d endured worse in his homeland. The girl’s eyes met his and he knew exactly what she was thinking. Foreigner…
He glanced down at the expensive pocket watch and pushed it back in. Japan was certainly friendly to foreigners. And to them, he was the ultimate foreigner. In a sea of white, he was the only one with dark, almost black skin. The man curled his lips into a grimace and walked on, unsure what to say as a greeting.
“Oh hello! You must be Mr. Nico!” A quivery voice called to him and tiny hands grabbed his. He looked down, rather surprised to see a tiny white haired old woman. She seemed to be completely blind as her two beady eyes were completely white.
“We welcome you to our neighborhood.”
She stood on the peak, watching a flock of birds sweep down across the bay. This was their place, the one spot they would come to together to be alone. She had come here again thinking it might help her feel closer to him, but she felt nothing. Now it was just a cold, cloudy hill, bare and gaunt.
tonykeyesjapan
The girl sighed as the broom flew across the area, knocking into the wall before quickly falling, clattering against the hardwood floor. She had been trying to use her magic to sweep the dust off the floor, but, just as usual, her magic seemed to have a mind of its own and, with a final attempt at sweeping with her magic, she knew she had more work to do now than she had when she begrudgingly started.
“Why did I accept to do this again?” She said aloud as she walked over and picked up the broom.
“Oh, yeah.” She said with a sigh and a roll of her eyes, “Mary went and guilt tripped me to do this for the entire week.”
They watched the wings of the bird sweep the sky in a way that they weren’t accustomed to in Iowa. It was beautiful. The way the seagull’s white wing caressed the blue sky was majestic. It remained unfazed by the wind hitting from the direction it faced.
b equi-ampere
The broom swept across the floor as the girl looked at the ground, her long brown hair streaming behind her. She sighed and glanced out the window, judging the time by the sun. 6:00 p.m., she thought as she put the broom down. Her eyes glowing, she glanced at her door once more before jumping and running into the forest.
Ashley Kearney
there’s something about the way love happens. it takes you by surprise, it takes you by the heart and pulls you along for the ride even if you just want to jump ship. but you can’t, since that’s just not how life works; i had to learn that the hard way. and it sucks, it really does, when everything you do seems to lead to a brick wall, but you’ll get past it – climb over the wall. sweep everything under you, everything back, and think only about the people you have left. let that love sweep you off your feet before it’s too late.
Paige
I was taken under. This feeling was familiar, but not a feeling I anticipated so soon. I couldn’t deny that she really was able to sweep me off my feet.
Chantelle
The broom. The team. The craze. The chore I dare not do.
The young maid sighed and leaned against her broom, staring down at the floor with a look of dissatisfaction. The master would not be pleased. She had, of course, tried her best, but it was hard to clean up a sticky mess of juice with only a straw broom. But it was the tool she used and wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Sweeping past the chicken coop, Mandy’s ire was evident is every step she took. Bailey shrank away at the sight.
“Where have you been? Mandy asked sharply, her face as blank and blinding as untouched snow in the sunlight.
Bailey said nothing. He noticed the freckles that showed prominently on her cheeks and nose and that the boots she’d gotten gotten only last Christmas were already worn through. Dust seemed to rise at her anger, but it merely made her more drab and grimy. It hid whatever radiance she might have had.
“I never wanted this,” Bailey said, meaning Mandy and her no longer white apron and meaning the whole dusty drab town. If heavens weren’t enough, then how could he settle here?
“You never cared about me!” Many screamed. A red apple missed his retreating back by millimeters.
Bailey said nothing to defend himself. There was nothing he could say, even as his heart cried out, trapped as it was in his father’s fist.
Yomi
I looked in your eyes and, against all logic, wished that you would sweep me off my feet.
I would be staring, as I always was, and just as I turned away, you would have moved – illogically, you would not have been able to go all that distance in that time – you would be behind me, and your hand would be on my shoulder. You would spin me around, and kiss me, and I would not know what to think.
Me not knowing what to think was as much a fantasy as the teleportation. I knew what I thought. I thought I wanted you to sweep me off my feet.
I sweep the floor day after day
sweeping the dust away
the empty words
and broken faces
I feel the mistakes and regret forming
in lumps of misery
I feel the pain that comes
with each day
Look at all of your emotions, scattered everywhere like dust on the floor. And every time you attempt to sweep them under the rug, to hide them away, more fall to the floor and shatter into millions of particles.
Your name is The Signless and you are only 3 sweeps old. Today is the day you were hatched. And soon it will be the say you die. You have already said goodbye to your few friends and you are ready to die. But really you’re not. You’re terrified. Your mother is gone, just for the day, looking for food. You’ll be alone. And that terrifies you.
Haven
you sweep past the hospital room but his wrinkled translucent limbs stretch and you hear his first words in a century “mary, please say something”
It’s so crazy to me how easily you managed to sweep me off my feet. I always thought my two left feet anchored me to the floor, made me unmovable. But, here you are: sweeping me off my feet, teaching me what it means to not only love yourself, but to love another person.
floor. it is dirty. gotta do the nasty work. this aint no Gaga song about disco stick. this is a broom stick. and i gotta sweep. that floor.
Sarah
Sweep? Sweeping could be referring to the use of a broom, to sweep, or clean, a filthy floor. It could also be referring to describing a large, or “sweeping” movement. Cinderalla sweeps quite a bit in the movie, right? does she do thst in the fairytale, as well?
nicole
Sweeping is what you do when you want to eliminate something all in one go. To get rid of the dust, the clutter, the people in your life. You get rid of the people who irritate you, and you do it in one sweep. Sweeping is inefficient and hard to do, there is always that one line that you can’t get rid of, a microscopic particle of dust line, laying there, unseen to accumulate.
Chey
Sweeping is awful. So terrible sweeping is. But at times I do enjoy it. I just hate when I’m forced. To sweep away my thoughts, wouldn’t that be nice. To just be swept away into the void of nonexistence, wouldn’t that be grand.
Alexys
I don’t care who you marry, just don’t marry a chimney sweep. That’s what my father had always said. He didn’t care what I was as long as I wasn’t a “dirty” girl. So I couldn’t be a whore and I couldn’t marry a chimney sweep. When I came home with a baker at nineteen he nodded his grudging approval. “I should have said no bakers, too,” he grumbled, brushing invisible flour off his carpet after he had left. “This is just as dirty.” But my father stuck to his word and didn’t tell me not to marry the baker, even though he was a terrible baker who didn’t like to get up early and couldn’t make a souffle.
sweep. when you sweep something you are basicly cleaning. you can use a broom to sweep.
I don’t like sweeping!!!
maddison
the cobbler pretended to clean the space that collected around his work station on the streets of Kabul, the only people that came to him for repairs these days were locals and the occasional tourist.. business was low but he was happy. it was easy to keep the legacy of his heritage alive and take solace in the ancestor. his.
C Connor
I don’t know, I liked sweeping sometimes even though I was bad at it. The electric fan was always on, and then the dust would keep flying. I loved gathering dust on the floor though, see them all in one place. I like to see little cluster of dark gray clouds or fur.
Charlene Herrera
In one clean sweep, she managed to knock over everything on the shelf. Typically, she wasn’t seen as a clumsy person – she’d done ballet for many years, after all. But the exhaustion of staying up late to work on studying was managing to create a mess of her. She missed being graceful and moving with ease, but that was impossible when it came down to it.
It is easy to sweep the previous life experiences into rough drafts,or better put,sweet dreams.But something nagged at me as if right now and all that went before it were all but a made up story.
a false terl
It is easy to perceive the previous life experiences as rough drafts,or better put,sweet dreams.
a false terl
Her hair swept across her face,
she acknowledges the limits of her existence
every time she pushes a stray strand back in place
the wind takes over
there’s only one king
Every Tuesday they come, the kids from the local school for the disabled. It’s hard to connect to them, but I always say hello. I know this is important time for them. Time to feel connected to the larger world, needed, capable of a meaningful contribution. They sweep the stairs leading from one part of the botanic garden to another. They wash windows. But mostly, their big smiles and enthusiastic greetings make my day brighter.
Clayton
“Impressive sweep,” remarked the coach as the team sat down for beer and pizza. “I certainly didn’t expect all of you to step up so high. Granted, I know how good you are, but…four games won with high scores against the same team ain’t nothing to sneeze at.”
I rolled my eyes and drank deeply from my pint. Coach Keaton always had a hard time dealing with the fact that running a girls’ team didn’t mean extra coddling was involved. I flexed my bicep at my teammate, and she grinned a goofy grin.
Belinda Roddie
In the time it took him to go back to his room to get ready she was able to sweep and mop the kitchen floor, and they say girls take forever to get ready to go anywhere.
Sweep me under the bed, where the monsters that only exist in your mind sleep. Where the only time you’ll think of me is when you’re reminded of me subconsciously by something said half-mindedly.
Mary
The mability to have the difference between clean and non clean reduction.
Dominic Jordan
“Sweep!” The rumble echoed through the crowd once more. “Sweep!” The stands shook. “Sweep!” Brooms pounded on the ground. There’s something special about being present for a sweep in baseball. I count it among my fondest memories.
I stood over this cracked floor,
Slapping the whiskers of this broom against the floor.
Merely tousling the dust around in circles,
Productivity getting swept up in mini tornadoes.
I’ve done this so many times, but its ALWAYS,
ALWAYS dirty. So why do I even bother?
take a broom to the floorboards of my songbird heart. you will find there all the bits and pieces of it people tasted and did not like, the bitter sawdust of a house half-built. feel them in your fingers, cradle them between the nooks. blow. they spread like ashes in the wind. close your eyes. breathe. they are stardust now. they are peace.
The girl’s hands went back and forth, sweeping the dirt off the sidewalk and into a small pile, then away from sight. The sun was strong on the back of his head and he didnt seem to care. He’d endured worse in his homeland. The girl’s eyes met his and he knew exactly what she was thinking. Foreigner…
He glanced down at the expensive pocket watch and pushed it back in. Japan was certainly friendly to foreigners. And to them, he was the ultimate foreigner. In a sea of white, he was the only one with dark, almost black skin. The man curled his lips into a grimace and walked on, unsure what to say as a greeting.
“Oh hello! You must be Mr. Nico!” A quivery voice called to him and tiny hands grabbed his. He looked down, rather surprised to see a tiny white haired old woman. She seemed to be completely blind as her two beady eyes were completely white.
“We welcome you to our neighborhood.”
She stood on the peak, watching a flock of birds sweep down across the bay. This was their place, the one spot they would come to together to be alone. She had come here again thinking it might help her feel closer to him, but she felt nothing. Now it was just a cold, cloudy hill, bare and gaunt.
The girl sighed as the broom flew across the area, knocking into the wall before quickly falling, clattering against the hardwood floor. She had been trying to use her magic to sweep the dust off the floor, but, just as usual, her magic seemed to have a mind of its own and, with a final attempt at sweeping with her magic, she knew she had more work to do now than she had when she begrudgingly started.
“Why did I accept to do this again?” She said aloud as she walked over and picked up the broom.
“Oh, yeah.” She said with a sigh and a roll of her eyes, “Mary went and guilt tripped me to do this for the entire week.”
They watched the wings of the bird sweep the sky in a way that they weren’t accustomed to in Iowa. It was beautiful. The way the seagull’s white wing caressed the blue sky was majestic. It remained unfazed by the wind hitting from the direction it faced.
The broom swept across the floor as the girl looked at the ground, her long brown hair streaming behind her. She sighed and glanced out the window, judging the time by the sun. 6:00 p.m., she thought as she put the broom down. Her eyes glowing, she glanced at her door once more before jumping and running into the forest.
there’s something about the way love happens. it takes you by surprise, it takes you by the heart and pulls you along for the ride even if you just want to jump ship. but you can’t, since that’s just not how life works; i had to learn that the hard way. and it sucks, it really does, when everything you do seems to lead to a brick wall, but you’ll get past it – climb over the wall. sweep everything under you, everything back, and think only about the people you have left. let that love sweep you off your feet before it’s too late.
I was taken under. This feeling was familiar, but not a feeling I anticipated so soon. I couldn’t deny that she really was able to sweep me off my feet.
The broom. The team. The craze. The chore I dare not do.
The young maid sighed and leaned against her broom, staring down at the floor with a look of dissatisfaction. The master would not be pleased. She had, of course, tried her best, but it was hard to clean up a sticky mess of juice with only a straw broom. But it was the tool she used and wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Plains.
Sweeping past the chicken coop, Mandy’s ire was evident is every step she took. Bailey shrank away at the sight.
“Where have you been? Mandy asked sharply, her face as blank and blinding as untouched snow in the sunlight.
Bailey said nothing. He noticed the freckles that showed prominently on her cheeks and nose and that the boots she’d gotten gotten only last Christmas were already worn through. Dust seemed to rise at her anger, but it merely made her more drab and grimy. It hid whatever radiance she might have had.
“I never wanted this,” Bailey said, meaning Mandy and her no longer white apron and meaning the whole dusty drab town. If heavens weren’t enough, then how could he settle here?
“You never cared about me!” Many screamed. A red apple missed his retreating back by millimeters.
Bailey said nothing to defend himself. There was nothing he could say, even as his heart cried out, trapped as it was in his father’s fist.
I looked in your eyes and, against all logic, wished that you would sweep me off my feet.
I would be staring, as I always was, and just as I turned away, you would have moved – illogically, you would not have been able to go all that distance in that time – you would be behind me, and your hand would be on my shoulder. You would spin me around, and kiss me, and I would not know what to think.
Me not knowing what to think was as much a fantasy as the teleportation. I knew what I thought. I thought I wanted you to sweep me off my feet.
I sweep the floor day after day
sweeping the dust away
the empty words
and broken faces
I feel the mistakes and regret forming
in lumps of misery
I feel the pain that comes
with each day
Look at all of your emotions, scattered everywhere like dust on the floor. And every time you attempt to sweep them under the rug, to hide them away, more fall to the floor and shatter into millions of particles.
i am so sorry for being 100% homestuck trash.
Your name is The Signless and you are only 3 sweeps old. Today is the day you were hatched. And soon it will be the say you die. You have already said goodbye to your few friends and you are ready to die. But really you’re not. You’re terrified. Your mother is gone, just for the day, looking for food. You’ll be alone. And that terrifies you.
you sweep past the hospital room but his wrinkled translucent limbs stretch and you hear his first words in a century “mary, please say something”
It’s so crazy to me how easily you managed to sweep me off my feet. I always thought my two left feet anchored me to the floor, made me unmovable. But, here you are: sweeping me off my feet, teaching me what it means to not only love yourself, but to love another person.
floor. it is dirty. gotta do the nasty work. this aint no Gaga song about disco stick. this is a broom stick. and i gotta sweep. that floor.
Sweep? Sweeping could be referring to the use of a broom, to sweep, or clean, a filthy floor. It could also be referring to describing a large, or “sweeping” movement. Cinderalla sweeps quite a bit in the movie, right? does she do thst in the fairytale, as well?
Sweeping is what you do when you want to eliminate something all in one go. To get rid of the dust, the clutter, the people in your life. You get rid of the people who irritate you, and you do it in one sweep. Sweeping is inefficient and hard to do, there is always that one line that you can’t get rid of, a microscopic particle of dust line, laying there, unseen to accumulate.
Sweeping is awful. So terrible sweeping is. But at times I do enjoy it. I just hate when I’m forced. To sweep away my thoughts, wouldn’t that be nice. To just be swept away into the void of nonexistence, wouldn’t that be grand.
I don’t care who you marry, just don’t marry a chimney sweep. That’s what my father had always said. He didn’t care what I was as long as I wasn’t a “dirty” girl. So I couldn’t be a whore and I couldn’t marry a chimney sweep. When I came home with a baker at nineteen he nodded his grudging approval. “I should have said no bakers, too,” he grumbled, brushing invisible flour off his carpet after he had left. “This is just as dirty.” But my father stuck to his word and didn’t tell me not to marry the baker, even though he was a terrible baker who didn’t like to get up early and couldn’t make a souffle.
cool game (lesson)
sweep. when you sweep something you are basicly cleaning. you can use a broom to sweep.
I don’t like sweeping!!!
the cobbler pretended to clean the space that collected around his work station on the streets of Kabul, the only people that came to him for repairs these days were locals and the occasional tourist.. business was low but he was happy. it was easy to keep the legacy of his heritage alive and take solace in the ancestor. his.
I don’t know, I liked sweeping sometimes even though I was bad at it. The electric fan was always on, and then the dust would keep flying. I loved gathering dust on the floor though, see them all in one place. I like to see little cluster of dark gray clouds or fur.
In one clean sweep, she managed to knock over everything on the shelf. Typically, she wasn’t seen as a clumsy person – she’d done ballet for many years, after all. But the exhaustion of staying up late to work on studying was managing to create a mess of her. She missed being graceful and moving with ease, but that was impossible when it came down to it.
It is easy to sweep the previous life experiences into rough drafts,or better put,sweet dreams.But something nagged at me as if right now and all that went before it were all but a made up story.
It is easy to perceive the previous life experiences as rough drafts,or better put,sweet dreams.
Her hair swept across her face,
she acknowledges the limits of her existence
every time she pushes a stray strand back in place
the wind takes over
there’s only one king
i hate all litter
cant people just pick it up
makes for better world
Every Tuesday they come, the kids from the local school for the disabled. It’s hard to connect to them, but I always say hello. I know this is important time for them. Time to feel connected to the larger world, needed, capable of a meaningful contribution. They sweep the stairs leading from one part of the botanic garden to another. They wash windows. But mostly, their big smiles and enthusiastic greetings make my day brighter.
“Impressive sweep,” remarked the coach as the team sat down for beer and pizza. “I certainly didn’t expect all of you to step up so high. Granted, I know how good you are, but…four games won with high scores against the same team ain’t nothing to sneeze at.”
I rolled my eyes and drank deeply from my pint. Coach Keaton always had a hard time dealing with the fact that running a girls’ team didn’t mean extra coddling was involved. I flexed my bicep at my teammate, and she grinned a goofy grin.
In the time it took him to go back to his room to get ready she was able to sweep and mop the kitchen floor, and they say girls take forever to get ready to go anywhere.
Sweep me under the bed, where the monsters that only exist in your mind sleep. Where the only time you’ll think of me is when you’re reminded of me subconsciously by something said half-mindedly.
The mability to have the difference between clean and non clean reduction.
“Sweep!” The rumble echoed through the crowd once more. “Sweep!” The stands shook. “Sweep!” Brooms pounded on the ground. There’s something special about being present for a sweep in baseball. I count it among my fondest memories.
I stood over this cracked floor,
Slapping the whiskers of this broom against the floor.
Merely tousling the dust around in circles,
Productivity getting swept up in mini tornadoes.
I’ve done this so many times, but its ALWAYS,
ALWAYS dirty. So why do I even bother?