Scraping morning ice off my windshield is not hard.
I just use an expired credit card.
A SCRAPING OF SHOVELS
From muffled silence
arises a distant drone
…..a scraping of shovels
chattering across concrete cracks
drum rolls of muted angst
…..a scraping of shovels
trembling dominoes
awakening others
….a scraping of shovels
rolling back the cover
of winter’s quilted silence
….a scraping of shovels
earning the price
of an afternoon movie
…a scraping of shovels
welcoming the neighbors
to a frosted block party
…a scraping of shovels
rumbling sound track
of a crystal morning
John G. Lawless
©2.28/2019
Old, weary, sad
Wracked with pain and sorrow
He wrapped the night around him like a cloak
Long had he waited for this eventide
And he had earned it, giving all to family and work.
The wind came up and carried in the sea mist off the fjords
He pressed his cheek against it
The briny smells awakening memories of years at sail
Long days and nights atop the mast
Swaying the crow's nest like the hands of a clock
Ticking away his life in maritime duties ... and damp bones.
Lubbing land now, and ready for his last voyage
Deep in the sea of soil, to rest.
The winds slowly died, mists turning to fog ...
He was ready, and could see the reaper atop yonder hill, coming
He sat down upon the dank ground to wait
The night now still as death ...
Save for the scraping ... of shovels.
Shovels' scraping shows work well done
Keep it up! Congratulations!!!
Service to God is number one
Yielding fruits of commendations.
With the Lord's strength as girding might
Shovels' scraping shows work well done
Radiating life-building's bright light
Exemplified by God's great Son.
Designed perfection had begun
Masterpiece upon faith-venture
Shovels' scraping shows work well done
Thru divine nature and nurture.
Model of utmost excellence
Paragon's best for everyone
Labourers' diligent silence
Shovels' scraping shows work well done*.
*Matthew 25:21 His lord said unto him, Well done, thou good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord.
March 12, 2019
Scooping up my pain with these shovels as I try to write,
embracing all I lost in a life I never knew I deserved.
Keeping forgiveness and empathy in my clear sight,
and trying to remember all the love I have reserved.
I was scraping these shovels and they quickly swerved,
so, I take the dustpan and try to make things right.
Should I excavate the anguish and forget the pain?
Maybe the torment will cease and I will be free.
I could only hope that the happy memories remain
allowing this woman to be no one else except me.
The scraping of these shovels has made me see clearly.
The chafing and attrition have taken my life in vain.
The metal on the cement gives me relief, yet fear.
It screeches and moans the emotions I never knew
I’d feel when I looked at the world in a shattered mirror.
Believe me when I say the scratching is so true
as I live a life of abrasion with my construction crew-
explaining the scraping sound to all who will hear.
March 10, 2019
John Lawless
The Scraping of Shovels
If it weren't for you
I'd still be scraping the shovels
On land hinged by drought
Digging for achromatic memories
Beneath phlegmatic coarse woody debris
At trackless fields of feelings
In tenacious grip of my fingers
I would be scraping gravels from dessicated plains
Each path winding to you through echor
Would have lost existence
Left untrodden for eons
In limerance of your enigmatic charm
Bolstering labyrinth of emotions
Would have looked down upon
Lacerations on my vulnerable heart
To unearth dormant seed of your presence
To lighten pebbles and dried mud
And moisten it with my tearful soul
09/03/2019
There is a loud sharp scraping of shovels,
digging another grave;
this a daily event in the graveyard,
oh, death comes like a wave.
When our life time has finished we must leave,
and beloved must grieve.
We cannot hold back the shovels scraping,
and cannot hold back death;
for our time left is ever an hourglass,
yes, until our last breath.
Listen to my words and live for each day,
even when you feel gray.
No matter how much pain dwells within you,
find happiness and joy;
never become the person that you hate,
don't let revenge destroy.
Be strong and be a finer example,
just be the best sample.
Let go of the graveyard scene and of time,
find things you love to do;
collect friends like flowers in a bouquet,
even if just a few.
Live your life without dread and gloom looming,
and all joy consuming.
______________________________
March 8, 2019
Poetry/Rhyme/Time and Scraping Shovels
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1122-160-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
There once was a man who loved rakes
why pay when their there for the take
as the leaves go pell-mell
he shovels like hell
then he rakes , and he rakes, and he rakes
There once was a man from southern New York
who planted the shrubs with a shovel and cork
heal to toe he did dig
like he did at the rig
yes he dug, and he dug, and he dug
There once was a child from Saskatoon
so little snow, he shoveled with spoon
he snowballed it up
but it melted by sup
so he scraped, and he scraped, until noon
There once was a poet who started to write
for a contest, that fitted just right
so he limericks away
it is all fun and play
as he writes, and he writes, until night.
A Scraping of Shovels Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Lawless
3/8/19
Shovels Scraping
Standing quiet so as not,
to cause a riot.
Boots are heavy full of grit.
Hair is matted and full of sweat.
Muscles ache,
with move they make
Blister blood,
mixed with mud to forms a horrid crud.
When I signed I must have been blind.
No amount of money could,
make this job funny.
Then a shout from the gaffer,
come on you slackers.
I can‘ t hear those shovels scraping.
With a glance I smoke my tab.
I‘ m sure its not me that’s been had.
Working hard I am done,
a breather has to come.
But it wont be long before,
ill sing my song.
A jug of beer will be in hand,
that I will stand,
with money in my hand.
As for my toils ill get my spoils,
spend it with my friends.
Then a shout from the gaffer,
come on you lazy slackers.
I can‘ t hear those shovels scraping.
This banyan tree on the wayside pasture
boughs cradling the nests secure
the birds of blue return,
verdant foliage making shade serene
the scorched travelers rest awhile,
the tree revels in pride.
The winds of harsh time take the toll
gaping trunk wrenches the soul,
defoliated, the skeleton stands stripped.
The birds don’t return,
the travelers pass by,
in sorrow the shadowless tree tracks the setting sun.
Until the storm comes
lays the tree on the ground it stood so long firm,
shovels scrape the soil, fills the void,
buries the last remains of its roots.
In the twilight hours of loneliness
as I see dark clouds gather on the horizon
the sound of scraping of shovels
returns to me louder and louder
from the empty pasture
where the banyan tree once was,
and I wait for the storm.
March 7, 2019
It is a sanctuary of stillness here
muted sounds of nature prevail
a rustle of leaves, a scurrying of rodents
flutterings of birds flying and chirping.
Peaceful it may seem, and yet...
I have dwelt here, uneasily, year after year
hard pressed to escape my confinement
tormented by nightmares
tragedy without resolution.
A new day dawns, much like any other
I become aware of strange, new sounds
sounds I have not heard for a long while
a scraping of shovels, scraping, digging
digging and scraping up dirt full of hope.
I tremble in anticipation for this moment
this moment I have dreamt about
in my eternal sleep..could this truly be
the day of my release?
Oh Lord, I can see the sunlight now
for at long last, I have been found
justice has finally prevailed
today...I have been set free!
Written on 3/6/2019
When the snow arrives at night,
Blanketing the city,
All is peaceful, soft and white,
No longer gray and gritty.
But with morning, what we hear,
And there is no escaping,
Is the grating sound, so clear,
Of nonstop shovels scraping.
Sidewalks must be free of ice
And everyone so doing
Is not concerned with being nice,
But staving off some suing!
March 5, 2019
A SCRAPING OF SHOVELS--
A duel of occupations;
Farming or construction;
2 metal clad tools of uncovering';
Clang N clang, touch rub N bang;
Scape-scape, dig-dig on dirt, sand, gravel and rocks;
A scraping of shovels;
Excavation in construction;
Mechanization via steam shovels;
And later hydraulic equipment;
Hand shoveling dirt onto metal covers;
A scraping of shovels;
Connection tween shoulder blades and digging blades;
That the words also means spatula and spade;
Touch me, touch me metal or bones rocks and gravel;
Rubbing together like a scraping of shovels;
Spades lack triangular points;
But are fairly narrow rub and touch;
Dirt and metal, sand rock and gravel;
"spade" and "scoop” a doop dig a hole;
Coal shovel scooping a scraping of shovels
A snow shovel shoveling snow, a scraping of shovels;
A wide aluminum blade that is attachment;
With a short hardwood handle with "D" top;
A shovel called a barn or grain shovel;
Used for grain" spade" and "scoop” grab and hold;
Rubbing together like a scraping of shovels;
3/3/19
A SCRAPING OF SHOVELS Poetry Contest
Sponsored by:John lawless
Sparks flew
The earth moved
And I knew
Your love was going to bury me
March 2nd, 2019
Like so many times when us youngsters reigned
We got up to so much that we forgot to refrain
Instances, confrontations, non immaculate we be
C'mon, c'mon, come at us you'll soon see
Then it went tit's up as we now look back and tell
Bravado at the time, drinks, drinks, we're swell
High fives abounded, knowing we'd rid the scum
It's now the morning, reflecting, how we'd become
It was his bullying Officer, bullying, all down to such
Each and everyone of us, drunk out of touch
We'd had enough, he'd pushed us to our tether
In panic worried union, we'd suggested together
To a peaty marshy headland, headlights our guide
No thought to he's now lost, to no longer reside
Us, a scraping of shovels, as cowardly tears fall
All down to bravado, whilst the worried still call
Written 02/03/2019.
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