Short Shoveled Poems
Short Shoveled Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Shoveled by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Shoveled by length and keyword.
I shoveled the digs of hurt transposed beneath the skirt,
muddy waters bleed I hurt;
7/23/20
written words by James Edward Lee Sr.© 2020
We shoveled stuff under the couch.
Piles of it, until it was lumpy and the cushions rose in the air.
We shoved stuff under the refrigerator
But the mice shoved it back
This is when we fired the exterminator.
We shoveled stuff under the couch.
Piles of it, until it was lumpy and the cushions rose in the air.
We shoved stuff under the refrigerator
But the mice shoved it back
This is when we fired the exterminator.
Courage glows
with the golden hue
of dare devil speed,
when stirred from embers of
the souls fears,
then shoveled to freedom,
like snowdrifts pushed aside,
allowing that migratory crusader
to reign free as
the northern wind.
“Give me more,” he said,
as he shoveled slow death into his gob.
“Give me more,” he said.
“I won’t want when I’m definitely dead.
What wouldn’t I’d give for an eating job.”
He rubbed his arm as it started to throb.
“Give me more,” he said.
It’s cold
It snowed
I shivered
I shoveled
A Solstice sun
Silently smirked
Iridescent icicles
Licked their lips
A crunch of crusted snow
Battled the scritch of shovels
Headless snowmen
Wandered in wonder
I shoveled
I shivered
It snowed
It’s cold
A shoveled heart
And planted hands,
The endless years of
Love for the land,
Pruning growth
And raking up
Around the roots,
Are just rewards.
Proud thoughts,
Seeds and soil,
The sap of love,
All in patience, toil.
The autumn rose, there
In my heart she grows.
Grated darkness
Bleeding night
Serrated sanity
Shredding sight
Clenched teeth
Gnawing time
Festering fate
Widowed crime
Whispering walls
Squeezing shame
Callous hands
Chiseled name
Seeping shadow
Creaking door
Perfumed epitaph
Married whore
Seething scowl
Backyard breath
Shoveled plot
Cheating death
What is this creepy thing
Infecting my body?
Busily digesting my flesh, melting,
The first stages of the blob.
End of my extremities
Swell ominously, wriggling,
Undulating like giant worms
Busily digesting my tissue
I’m becoming what I fear most,
Mistaken for castings
Shoveled up and thrown
On the compost heap.
Poetry can be deep,
lord knows I have
shoveled some! Or shallow,
everyone loves icing --
instructive~ insight into
truth, passing go, a 1000
erudite words equal one, honest
poetic portrait --
size may somewhat count
with sex...but poetry, is
lasting intimacy –
as mysterious as love
and insolvable as God --
So many earths to unearth....
worlds that define my history
like a geological time capsule;
you see,
I hid them from seas
of terror
in a world of fear.
I shoveled them down
for years,
until I forgot how they look like.
Sometimes I exhume them
for remembrance,
only to crowd my mind
with unnecessary mess
all over again......
senryu series
the snow cometh
snowflakes pepper down
salt trucks on standby
***
dirt sleeps under
a blanket of snow
for a short while
*****
driveway fin'lly shoveled
city snow plow
re-blocks my entrance
***** *
heavy coat of snow
on the hillside
kids bundle up too
**********
park on the street
growing army of snowmen
guard the garage
The air was crisp, the trees were bare;
The paths were shoveled clean.
In Central Park today it was
Delightful and serene.
A lonely jogger trotted by;
A nanny pushed her charge.
Some dogs on leashes sniffed and strained;
The cloud-filled sky loomed large.
But mostly it was only me
A'stroll across the park,
Enveloped by the vista
Which was anything but stark.
There is a clearing opened free
just beneath the holly trees
a small patch of grass and dirt
where footprints of birds and songs are heard
thawed and cleared the melted snow.
In the thaw of winter wind and ice take flight
grass need not be mowed but shoveled light
for just a moment as sunlight beams
hope and promise of fluffed up dreams
holds tight the possibility of spring.
DESPONDENT SOIL
red soil, in a
hell hole, it was
shoveled, and the
hued cones, see the
borders, i am
waist-deep, in the
sewer, and by
waste-deep, i am
troubled, in a
cesspool, of woe
3/10/2017
Rob Carmack’s Lyrics III contest
*waist and waste - spelled 2 ways for effect.
*Inspired by both the contest song and my neighbor’s calamity
Tears and tides
Like shoveled snow
I fall with pride
And no longer glow
My life is no free ride
I got to pay my fare
And give my dues
This aint no free trip
Hopelessness,hurt are hobson's choice
So this not free for all
Its my future
And I don't want it postponed
Like events without sponsors
Is my life I living
And me should make my own choices
So if you planning to take free ride
Hope off this bus!
A simple chill
A silent glow
A land held still
By shackles of snow
The flakes in swarms
Approach the drift
The raging storm
Begins to lift
Though winter's wrath
Is cloaked in charms
Shoveled paths
leave weary arms
Bellowed and poked
The home fires flare
giving life to the smoke
that danced in mid air
Time passes slow
and the world is held still
And the winter did grow
From the simplest of chills
A PATHWAY TO THE ROAD
My neighbor made his own shovel and let me borrow it. My driveway looks like the precipice from which the Grinch sleighed down into Whoville! Perhaps an exaggeration, but I haven’t shoveled this much snow ever. I heard we usually get an average of two inches a year. The ruler measured eight from this one storm.
a homemade shovel
digs through snow and ice
picketing hard work
12/11/2017
Back in February.
We shoveled away our snow.
In March?
Our kites would freeze in mid air.
In April…
We would have burning days for no reason, while others are just like winter all over.
May is not perfect either.
Bugs arise.
Grass is out of control.
The air is hot, but the ocean is too cold to dive in.
I could go on about Michigan weather.
Before we know it, fall arrives.
And winter is around the corner.
As we wait for March again.
The Abba clones were about to perform
Suddenly Bob felt his feet wet and warm
Anna screamed "diarrhea!"
Mum yelled "mamma mia"
While their pug pup hid inside its fly swarm
Pip had gifted the gig wet smelly poop
Made Anna gag as she shoveled each scoop
At an abnormal level
A proud deed for this devil
For its contents were like newt eye witch soup
My aunt was laid to rest today
With eulogies and rain.
Her children wept and shoveled dirt
In disbelief and pain.
Her life was long and full and rich;
She clearly was adored,
With all of those attending,
Admiration-wise, on board.
My aunt loved "Que sera, sera"
And someone sang it out.
We all joined in, accepting what
That song is all about.
A funeral's an ending
But reminds us we should see
That the future proves the chorus -
What will be will surely be.