Poems about rake



The Rake

I saw him again
By my side as I wake
In the middle of the night.

A thin naked man
Contorted limbs fit more
For a dog than a man.

His burning scolding breath
On my neck and
He screams at me

I am The Rake
I am The Rake
I am The Rake

Large head, round black
Eyes pierce through me
He peels back my covers

And beckons to me
His hands twist in strange ways
As though not bound by tendon

And he screams

I am The Rake
I am The Rake
I am The Rake

It is still dark as I follow him into the woods
I know what he wants - just for me to wake

He is The Rake.

And he wants my bones.


Author: SW
Date: 03/12/2019



Strands and strands of my hair
On the ground
I'm twisting, I'm balding
I watch the minutes and seconds rake

Strands and strands of my hair
From the time
I stayed put on the ground
But a knob of cutting wood remains

Widening and splitting
Deep in my body

I see me now
I'm loud

After many years, a small seed
Under earth, a lost child
I was never this loud
But I can hear me now

The moan of these branches
Wrap around me like wires
My weary throat
Tightening, tightening
With nothing to show

From a tongue in its comfort
Long impaired in the silence
Hushed, hushed
Till I blacked myself out

And now my roots rip
Above land
Like desperate hands
Now that I must
Get ready to leave

And the minutes and seconds,
Won't wait for me

I cannot sow leaves
Back to a tree

Take my name plate
To the farthest of gates

It is too late
It is too late

*We must now


Author: Vivian Alvarado
Date: 25/06/2019




I rake a pirate measure to my
Whispers blooming mind
Fresh sprung to consciousness
Fertile ego wind


Author: Mark Wanless
Date: 28/05/2019


King Solomon, a Rake, and Three Midday Hours

On my bed night after night I
Sought him who my soul loves, I sought him
But did not find him...

I sought this morning
A handful of domestic tools.
I raked, I shoveled, I let fly
A gust from my mighty
Two-stroke gas blower, which
Shuddered to death in my hands,
Before all of the leaves reached
The end of the goddamn driveway.

I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem
That you do not awake my love until
The motor has had a chance to cool off,
Or you might flood the engine.

David was anointed with the
Oil of myrrh and cassia. My wrists
Are caked in Havoline from
1998. Solomon ate banquets,
Loved Sheba, three hundred
Concubines and boats of perfumed wood.

Ramen at lunchtime. Sixty yards of two-by-fours.

If I never resemble a king,
Let me sup of television dinners
Let me work my hands in the valleys
Of a clogged fuel line, let my bed
Fill with the twin odalisques of
Leisure reading and dirty sheets,
And give me never three hundred concubines.

And if I go about the city at night,
Pleading with the watchmen, have they seen
She who my soul loves, let them answer:
"There. "

The driveway is clean, now,
All the leaves left at the end to rot,
Or be swept away.

hours,  king,  midday,  rake,  solomon,  three.

Author: Wade Redfearn
Date: 23/05/2019


Man With a Rake

This room—not his
Nor the house, the yard
Though a placard bares his name
It slides out
At a moment's notice
When the waiting ends
When his old hand stops—
Twirling, mindless against the loving quilt

This house-- the same
But different
From a distance
He should be sitting in this still life
An old Sachem
On his lawn chair

This garage—where I stand
Still his, strangely

Patient tools
Cherry Chevrolet wait
With work gloves resting...
Cannot bring myself to touch
Where his hands last laid them
As if to move a thing
Would kill the matrix of the man

His moment rushing toward me...

I can hear their whispers now
Leaves, once forbidden
Have gathered in his absence
Tangled in his hedges
Nestled by the stairs
Chattering together—

€Man with the rake—no longer comes”

man,  rake.

Author: Liz Balise
Date: 22/01/2019


Rake and rambling

/ •) • ) \

( (

( )

Astride the world the warrior girl



The naked marketplace

We see all that's goin on


In the neighborhoods

Does anybody live here anymore?


The high moon shines

But where oh where

Are signs of her mystic potency?

| | |

And you sweet girl

Are YE gonna be a woman some sweet day!


She rocks!

She walks the quiet beach at dawn


All the boys love her and want her so!

Her smile is Forever she stays Young


You would like me if you knew me

This ------ everybody says and knows

rake,  rambling.

Author: jeffrey robin
Date: 09/12/2018


Clouds like the teeth of a garden rake

Trying to find
Profound things to say
About the escaping day
Swimming like those bubbles
You blew as a kid into the garden sky
About endings and capture
And letting pretty birds fly

The sky folds into grey
Peach slashes between ceilings

He names each nook and cranny of the coast
As it shuffles imperceptibly closer
€Ever thought of sailing places? ”
And just like that
Father to eldest son
He p
The sea into him

€Sometimes it good to be home”
She says of the chalk cliffs
And the purplest of greens
Bruising the horizon

clouds,  garden,  rake,  teeth.

Author: MereCat
Date: 07/12/2018


Why Must We Rake These Leaves?

I stood in the rows of stones
Sitting in growing columns,
As the trees littered the carefully laid
Orange and white wreathes with
Dying leaves.
Pink chrysanthemums root
Readying for winter.

I question
Why must we do these things;
The dishes,
Brush our teeth,
Wear clothes,
Paint the baseboard,
Return things borrowed,
Fix the handle on the drawer.

The sink may stink,
But the flies well fed.
Bad breathe brings distance,
But distance breeds fondness.
And no one asks a nudist hermit
To lose weight.

These leaves within these stones tuck
A blanket over the raw Earth,
Readying for winter,
Keeping warm the maggots and beetles.

With the shadow of the raised
Scythe looming over us all,
It's silhouette shrinking as the sun
Leaves us

I ask why,
Why must we rake these leaves?

leaves,  rake.

Author: David Moloney
Date: 19/11/2018