Best Shovel In Poems

The meticulous melody of my musings is she.
Quietly my quill inscribes intrinsic ink upon the paths she walks.
Profoundly postulated in poems I've portrayed her in -
she's inspired ingenious imagery of beaucoup beauty.

I ponder without her what my life would be like?

With determiners of this, that,...

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… after Langston Hughes


You know how they do. They say that  
we run, that we fit descriptions, but justice  
ain’t blind, she just sees who she wants. Is  
it any wonder we hold our breath? A  
body ain’t a body when...

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In a cynical realm where truth is tainted in black, rises she, 
amidst whirling vortexes veiling reveries where she walks.

Yet society thrums thick skinned lies, whilst morning moon sighs in-
silence, seeing sunrise through eyes that mirror golden beauty.


Her persona resembles firm perennial petals like,
maternal warriors...

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In 1890, cowboy Bob Womack found gold at the base of lofty Pikes Peak!
In short order a ramshackle town was founded called Cripple Creek.
Hordes of gamblers, 'soiled doves' and prospectors hopin' to make a buck,
Heeded the call of 'Pikes Peak Or Bust' and fled west...

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Exotic eyes stare back at me
a huge Heffner begging
for the attention of her musings
she dances and sways
in the darkness, the streetlights
highlight her deceptions
she thinks she stole my heart
blind, I see the meaning of true deceit
my wallets disappears between the sheets
she thinks she is silent
I hear...

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Old
Digger, lifter, mover, slicer
Friend of ScoopDog and Dugger Graves
Lover of landscaping, building, and gardening
Who feels less sharp, disused, and edgy
Who fears dull blades, broken handles, and rust
Who would like to see verdant gardens, straight fence posts, and freshly laid sod
Resident of the junk section on...

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In the old dark coal mine, brought cold feeling.
It was underground and very dangerous and hard work.
Wearing dark clothes, leather boots, and canvas hat
With a leather brim with metal lamp brackets to hang off a light.  

My owner would carry me on his shoulder
When...

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AN OLD SHOVEL Poetry Contest                       Sponsored by: John lawless
              ...

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The man who you were born to trust
shouldn’t be the monster to then in turn bust
your bubble of hope for a fun, happy life
and become the nightmare of your every night.

She was trapped inside an abusive cage,
at the mercy of her father’s rage,
who continuously inflicted...

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People
who
buried
the dead
cannot
expect
to
be 
buried
by
the 
Dead....

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Come, shovel
splinter my hands
let me feel even an iota of pain

for I am forever in
denial 
it seems

Come, shovel
let my bare foot 
push you deeper

until I bleed

so I can face this 
reality
in front of me

dig
dig
dig

...ditch
and dish out
all that dirt


make that hole 

big
big
big

...breach
and break out
all that brine,

all...

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I remember when Grandpa used me everyday,                                      ...

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Golgotha seemed no risk to view,
As the Place of the Skull beckoned anew.
My heart hammered for I saw no escape
From the man with a shovel and tattered cape.

His shovel waved, as if to attack,
And he gave the ground a wicked whack.
He shoveled some dirt and...

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yes...
stirred day

april first so...
the winds are

spiraling snow...
in front of the

garage...
and front door...

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The Summers were hot in the suburbs of our city,        
 We had a small sandy yard, a few toys and a kitty.               ...

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