Scraping Poems

Scraping Ice Off My Windshield

Scraping morning ice off my windshield is not hard.
I just use an expired credit card.

A Scraping of Shovels

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 Scraping of Shovels

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

Shovels' Scraping

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

The Scraping of Pain's Shovels

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

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

A Scraping of Shovels

My momma was big on naps when I was a girl.
Until I was eight years old, she sent me to my room on summer afternoons.
It was probably because of the heat in the south,
The way it it penetrates to your insides leeching every bit of moisture . . . 
Just like the overheated engine on

Time and Scraping Shovels

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

A Scraping of Shovels

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

Scraping Shovels

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

Sound of Scraping of Shovels

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

A Scraping of Shovels

It is a sanctuary of hushed 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

A Scraping of Shovels

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

Wind blows ashes all around,
as men toil – bent over at an arduous task.
In the place where a scraping of shovels incises the coming night,
their blades incise cold and black encrusted ground.

Attached to the shovels' handles
are arms which are skeletons,
and the arms belong to bruised, decrepit bodies.
Hacking and wheezing, the men continue smiting the earth

A Scraping of Shovels-

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

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