Sweep is a word used in sports to mean a team has won all their games! I’m glad I thought of sports first instead of “sweep the floor” but obviously it shows that housekeeping is not a big priority in my life. You can also sweep someone out of your life, sweep off your own doorstep before sticking your nose in someone else’s business…
today i went out and swept up the porch after you left. sweeping away all the memories of you. all the dirt your feet tracked in. everything, swept up. all i have left to do is cover up your smell with some bleach. that will make you go away. sweep and bleach. ah.
if i sweep clean floors it is just because i love you but i don’t know what to say, how to act. notice how clean the whole house is getting, how clean the sky, the town is my family now.
“Here,” the woman said, her button nose scrunched in disapproval. I tentatively plucked the hob-knob, homemade broom out of her hand. I scrunched my own freckled nose when she moved back to the counter, peeling another brick-colored potato.
“Uh,” I began, yet lost the words. Awkward pause followed.
Everything, to the corners, to the pan. To the chair, to the table. To the cushions on the bed. To the rumpled bedsheets. The discarded stationery. The books, the pictures, the memories of my life.
the maid was sweeping while she was weeping about a boy she couldn’t have. the sweep went with her tears very slowly down the hall. she thought and thought and even after picking up the pieces she was not done thinking about the boy she could not have.
Sweeping up the piles of dust. Under the rug, along with the bugs. Not just material dust and muck – all that personal mess and yuck. All those feelings that suck, all those days where things ran amok…just sweep, sweep sweep.
Sweep for hopes of luck.
I loved my shop class and my shop teacher, Mr. Rowlands. He was such a kind and decent man. A wonderful teacher.
I can’t really say why he stands out in my mind so much. Maybe because it always felt like he could see me. Really see me. And he never did anything but let me be just that: Me.
He was the only one to do so for a very long time. For that, I am grateful.
Sweep, to sweep is an action of frenzied cleansing. To brush away the occurrence of matter and experience with one clean “sweep” of mercilessly undiscriminating all encompassing action.
He swept my feelings right from under me. I didn’t realize it at the time but after I got to know him, it’s just like he took control of how I felt. He made me want to protect and love him forever, something I have only felt for my brothers. It bothers me now, how easily I was swept up by this silly kid but I love him and can’t seem to stop myself.
He did it with one look. I thought I was stronger than this, but as soon as his eyes locked onto mine, I knew I had lost. My footing was shaky at best, but then he came over and asked me to dance. How could I say no? We danced all night, and my heart was no longer my own.
I am pretty sure this was yesterday’s word and to be honest I don’t like it. It’s boring. I made up a silly story about my mother having a speech impedient where she would say sweep instead of sleep. So today I’ve got nothing for you. The word sweep isn’t sexy at all. It’s a verb and as much as I like to clean it isn’t my favorite task. Sweep. Sweep. Sweep. I prefer the word Sweet.
There were lines of paw prints pointing in a million different directions. Each one showing a glimpse of the wood that lay beneath the fluffy grey blanket of dust on the floor. The broom was downstairs. It could wait another day.
sweeping remind me of brooms, and a broom can do many things. It can be used to clean a dirty floor. Get the possums off your front porch. Heck, you can even use it as an instrument like that there stomp group does. Yep.. nothing like a good broom.
a knight in shining armour would sweep you off your feet, but beware lest you become the Cinderella that sweeps the cinders. most days we’re too idealistic, we think that all stories are happy-ever-afters. but it does take some effort to find your fairy tale.
A clean sweep of all the debris in life, making a clean surface for the new, seemed impossible. How easy to burn down the house to finally be rid of clutter, to go on a climbing trip and never come back to the desk job and the bills and the mortgage (see, house burnt down.) The husband and child would be a different matter, larger chunks in the dustpan – but in the dustpan nonetheless.
It would sweep by. Rushing so quickly that it was difficult to know where it was going. The toddler ran after it, then the man, then the dog. They all seemed silly, not quite knowing what they were going after.
the sweep of wonder
across valleys rolling by the mortuary.
sweetness in the bloom,
and matrons on the wing.
sweeping up the kitchen floor
pretending all is well
in the air.
“Welcome back!” I said, sweeping him off his feet. Of course, he was a little shocked, being nearly a foot taller than myself. His long hair spun around and slowly a beam started to show on his face. His weight finally caught up with me, but soon he was the one hoisting me off the ground. “I missed you too.” He said.
The pieces piled up, she turned to take some away, only to trip over others. She knelt, and cut her knees, she wept and made the rest too slick to grab without another slice. She was sweeping without a broom.
The broom moves over the tile, a whisper in the darkness, when he hears the crack.
Jim looks up, startled, the broom held close to his chest, eyes roaming the dark basement. Nothing moves in those dark, forbidden shadows; nothing emerges from the night.
With a sigh, Jim returns to his duties–
unaware of the white fingers settling on his shoulder.
I was an all star at the age of 10, we were the team that was supposed to swept out of the tournament but dominated all competition for the sweep of the tournament great feel
I love to sweep the house in early in the morning. It bring back memories of my beloved grandmother, who taught me many things while she was alive. But she always insisted that one thing I should do well, it to sweep the house properly; it was a sign of mannerly.
It’s a grand, sweeping, crumbling nothingness constricting inside of her chest and she doesn’t know how to hide. She cowers under the table (whispering, whispering), and lets the fear bite into her heart like a foreign thing (dreaming, dreaming).
If there’s something that’s on your mind, it’s best not to keep it hidden.
If there’s something on your mind that’s worth saying, say it.
There’s nothing you can hold back that won’t dissolve you inside.
It’s no use just sweeping it aside.
Sweep. Clearing out all the non essentials, sweeping out can mean so much more than cleaning out when it comes to your life. The mediocrities is what completes life as it is. The concept of staying true to yourself and bringing about a change that was much needed will form the major part of clearing out this little life of ours.
The man comes to this street every day, he observes and every time he would suddenly get furious at the sight of trash lying on the street outside his house. He would rush into his house and grab a broom. With a few swift sweeps, he would throw off any visible trash together with those rubbish that are invisible to the naked eye that are present at the molecular level. Don’t blame this guy for his anger, he has issues with cleanliness.
He Hates Litter.
With a sweep of his hand, he dismissed me. He didn’t even look up from his paper. I couldn’t tell whether he didn’t believe me or just didn’t care to get involved. But either way, I knew I’d made a mistake telling him anything at all.
Sweep. Wipe. Dust. The mechanical movements bore him out of his mind. He can’t understand how the daily grind can be so inescapable, so ensnaring in this neighbourhood. Nothing will make any of the inhabitants budge out of their robotic routines; it’s like a clock made of diamonds – the clockwork can’t be destroyed by anything other than itself. Eventually, the system will collapse in on itself, like a black hole.
I just want to be healthy for a while, to get back to where I was. I want time to clean up my act, sweep out the cobwebs and move on. At the moment I don’t have the energy to handle people. Your job is to do that for me and also not to bother me with the trivial stuff. I don’t care how upset other people get, I want space and freedom to do what I need to do.
This is the 5th time that sweep has come up and I find it very annoying. When am I going to get another word besides ‘sweep’? There isn’t even much to do with ‘sweep.’ I sweep this, you sweep this, she sweeps this, he sweeps that! Gah! I don’t want to sweep anything. I just want this writer’s block to go away!
Life without all the trimmings of the past was in many ways simple~ less batteries to charge, appointments to keep and responsibilities to attend; that said, survival was in itself a fairly major responsibility, with the constant darkness only broken by the sweeping searchlights of the machines which were ostensibly made to defend.
Sweep is a word used in sports to mean a team has won all their games! I’m glad I thought of sports first instead of “sweep the floor” but obviously it shows that housekeeping is not a big priority in my life. You can also sweep someone out of your life, sweep off your own doorstep before sticking your nose in someone else’s business…
today i went out and swept up the porch after you left. sweeping away all the memories of you. all the dirt your feet tracked in. everything, swept up. all i have left to do is cover up your smell with some bleach. that will make you go away. sweep and bleach. ah.
if i sweep clean floors it is just because i love you but i don’t know what to say, how to act. notice how clean the whole house is getting, how clean the sky, the town is my family now.
“Here,” the woman said, her button nose scrunched in disapproval. I tentatively plucked the hob-knob, homemade broom out of her hand. I scrunched my own freckled nose when she moved back to the counter, peeling another brick-colored potato.
“Uh,” I began, yet lost the words. Awkward pause followed.
We were standing on a dirt floor.
Everything, to the corners, to the pan. To the chair, to the table. To the cushions on the bed. To the rumpled bedsheets. The discarded stationery. The books, the pictures, the memories of my life.
the maid was sweeping while she was weeping about a boy she couldn’t have. the sweep went with her tears very slowly down the hall. she thought and thought and even after picking up the pieces she was not done thinking about the boy she could not have.
Sweeping up the piles of dust. Under the rug, along with the bugs. Not just material dust and muck – all that personal mess and yuck. All those feelings that suck, all those days where things ran amok…just sweep, sweep sweep.
Sweep for hopes of luck.
It was a simple request really.
“At the end of class, sweep the floors.”
I loved my shop class and my shop teacher, Mr. Rowlands. He was such a kind and decent man. A wonderful teacher.
I can’t really say why he stands out in my mind so much. Maybe because it always felt like he could see me. Really see me. And he never did anything but let me be just that: Me.
He was the only one to do so for a very long time. For that, I am grateful.
Sweep, to sweep is an action of frenzied cleansing. To brush away the occurrence of matter and experience with one clean “sweep” of mercilessly undiscriminating all encompassing action.
anyone
He swept my feelings right from under me. I didn’t realize it at the time but after I got to know him, it’s just like he took control of how I felt. He made me want to protect and love him forever, something I have only felt for my brothers. It bothers me now, how easily I was swept up by this silly kid but I love him and can’t seem to stop myself.
He did it with one look. I thought I was stronger than this, but as soon as his eyes locked onto mine, I knew I had lost. My footing was shaky at best, but then he came over and asked me to dance. How could I say no? We danced all night, and my heart was no longer my own.
I am pretty sure this was yesterday’s word and to be honest I don’t like it. It’s boring. I made up a silly story about my mother having a speech impedient where she would say sweep instead of sleep. So today I’ve got nothing for you. The word sweep isn’t sexy at all. It’s a verb and as much as I like to clean it isn’t my favorite task. Sweep. Sweep. Sweep. I prefer the word Sweet.
I sweep up the ashes of the hearth. Wishing one day like Cinderella my prince will come
There were lines of paw prints pointing in a million different directions. Each one showing a glimpse of the wood that lay beneath the fluffy grey blanket of dust on the floor. The broom was downstairs. It could wait another day.
He sweeps up the glass from the bottle he used to hit the man over the head with
sweeping remind me of brooms, and a broom can do many things. It can be used to clean a dirty floor. Get the possums off your front porch. Heck, you can even use it as an instrument like that there stomp group does. Yep.. nothing like a good broom.
a knight in shining armour would sweep you off your feet, but beware lest you become the Cinderella that sweeps the cinders. most days we’re too idealistic, we think that all stories are happy-ever-afters. but it does take some effort to find your fairy tale.
A clean sweep of all the debris in life, making a clean surface for the new, seemed impossible. How easy to burn down the house to finally be rid of clutter, to go on a climbing trip and never come back to the desk job and the bills and the mortgage (see, house burnt down.) The husband and child would be a different matter, larger chunks in the dustpan – but in the dustpan nonetheless.
It would sweep by. Rushing so quickly that it was difficult to know where it was going. The toddler ran after it, then the man, then the dog. They all seemed silly, not quite knowing what they were going after.
the sweep of wonder
across valleys rolling by the mortuary.
sweetness in the bloom,
and matrons on the wing.
sweeping up the kitchen floor
pretending all is well
in the air.
“Welcome back!” I said, sweeping him off his feet. Of course, he was a little shocked, being nearly a foot taller than myself. His long hair spun around and slowly a beam started to show on his face. His weight finally caught up with me, but soon he was the one hoisting me off the ground. “I missed you too.” He said.
U knw im still in school and they have dis stupid policy were if ur late u have to get a sweep …. just bull s@*& i go threw.
The pieces piled up, she turned to take some away, only to trip over others. She knelt, and cut her knees, she wept and made the rest too slick to grab without another slice. She was sweeping without a broom.
The broom moves over the tile, a whisper in the darkness, when he hears the crack.
Jim looks up, startled, the broom held close to his chest, eyes roaming the dark basement. Nothing moves in those dark, forbidden shadows; nothing emerges from the night.
With a sigh, Jim returns to his duties–
unaware of the white fingers settling on his shoulder.
I was an all star at the age of 10, we were the team that was supposed to swept out of the tournament but dominated all competition for the sweep of the tournament great feel
I love to sweep the house in early in the morning. It bring back memories of my beloved grandmother, who taught me many things while she was alive. But she always insisted that one thing I should do well, it to sweep the house properly; it was a sign of mannerly.
It’s a grand, sweeping, crumbling nothingness constricting inside of her chest and she doesn’t know how to hide. She cowers under the table (whispering, whispering), and lets the fear bite into her heart like a foreign thing (dreaming, dreaming).
sweep swup swoop sweet animal cravings of drinking chocolate milkshake through a straw
I’m sweeping the ashes around the fireplace from the floor, because it was lit all afternoon.
If there’s something that’s on your mind, it’s best not to keep it hidden.
If there’s something on your mind that’s worth saying, say it.
There’s nothing you can hold back that won’t dissolve you inside.
It’s no use just sweeping it aside.
Sweep. Clearing out all the non essentials, sweeping out can mean so much more than cleaning out when it comes to your life. The mediocrities is what completes life as it is. The concept of staying true to yourself and bringing about a change that was much needed will form the major part of clearing out this little life of ours.
The man comes to this street every day, he observes and every time he would suddenly get furious at the sight of trash lying on the street outside his house. He would rush into his house and grab a broom. With a few swift sweeps, he would throw off any visible trash together with those rubbish that are invisible to the naked eye that are present at the molecular level. Don’t blame this guy for his anger, he has issues with cleanliness.
He Hates Litter.
With a sweep of his hand, he dismissed me. He didn’t even look up from his paper. I couldn’t tell whether he didn’t believe me or just didn’t care to get involved. But either way, I knew I’d made a mistake telling him anything at all.
Sweep. Wipe. Dust. The mechanical movements bore him out of his mind. He can’t understand how the daily grind can be so inescapable, so ensnaring in this neighbourhood. Nothing will make any of the inhabitants budge out of their robotic routines; it’s like a clock made of diamonds – the clockwork can’t be destroyed by anything other than itself. Eventually, the system will collapse in on itself, like a black hole.
Sweeping is a task where no brains -are required.
I just want to be healthy for a while, to get back to where I was. I want time to clean up my act, sweep out the cobwebs and move on. At the moment I don’t have the energy to handle people. Your job is to do that for me and also not to bother me with the trivial stuff. I don’t care how upset other people get, I want space and freedom to do what I need to do.
wtfever sweep. 6th time. don’t want to play this game again.
This is the 5th time that sweep has come up and I find it very annoying. When am I going to get another word besides ‘sweep’? There isn’t even much to do with ‘sweep.’ I sweep this, you sweep this, she sweeps this, he sweeps that! Gah! I don’t want to sweep anything. I just want this writer’s block to go away!
Life without all the trimmings of the past was in many ways simple~ less batteries to charge, appointments to keep and responsibilities to attend; that said, survival was in itself a fairly major responsibility, with the constant darkness only broken by the sweeping searchlights of the machines which were ostensibly made to defend.