Best Shopping Bag Poems
Had she looked back at me
Even for just a second ...
Our encounter might have been the stuff of tabloid frenzy.
But she left quickly a coffee in one hand,
A shopping bag in the other,
And I waited for my turn next in line.
scrubbing with her hands
red stains from the priest's collar
- strawberry picking
choosing wallpaper -
the red-breasted cardinals
in my shopping bag
Last night of harvest -
reflection of red blood moon
in his empty glass
red cherry blossoms
before next winter follows
-his last picnic morn
soft vermillion wings
flutter on her bare shoulder
- the first glimpse of Spring
Its vermillion wings
perching between rose petals
sips of ambrosia
scarlet wings flutter
upon a dry corolla
unsweetened nectar
Inspired by Silent One 's haiku /senryu 5//7/5 syllables
using the colour red - not for the contest
Grandma , I'm sorry but I'm bored
I just don't want to play out on my own
My mates have gone away
On their annual holiday
and I can't think of a single thing to do .
Darren , Please go down to the shop
Ask Hazel for an empty cardboard box
Bring it home to me
and after your Grandpa has had his tea
We'll see if we can find something to do .
The box is on the table but still I'm bored
I yawn and sigh and feel I'm being ignored
Grandpa has his pint pot of tea
but she walked straight past me
Now grandma is searching in the kitchen drawers .
With bent finger she beckons me to come
God , She gives me more jobs than my mum
Tea towels and sticky tape, marker pen and wooden spoons
Some old rags and a couple of happy birthday balloons
With the tea towels she made drapes
The box became a stage
Made fancy with happy birthday balloons
The marker pen in her hand
I began to understand
As she drew faces on those wooden spoons .
She dressed them in bits of rag
Tied with string from an old shopping bag
With twiglets she made a witches broom
She called grandpa from his tea
He walked in happily
and together took the stage into the living room.
TheY put on a show. On broadway it should go
Every time grandpa made that farting noise
This happy little boy
Laughed until I thought that I would die
Now I'm not bored on my own
but I don't want to go home
Grandma and grandpa are the reason why.
snow is falling, drifting, floating down like filigree
I stand discouraged in my doorway, flower shopping bag in hand -
perhaps, a cup of chamomile by the fire, warming feet
_______________________
January 8, 2013
Poetry/Sijo/snow is falling
Copyright Protected, ID 01-448-002-08
All Rights Reserved, 2013, Constance La France
Oh my goodness
What have we here
The house work to do
I would rather not dare
Kids to feed plus the cat
If this is a humans life
You can keep that.
I am a boxer dog
With a lamed back leg
Called Cassidy cos I limp
Do more than that by the end
Let's sit for a cuppa
Damn there's the phone
Blasted sales people,
leave us alone.
Right let's go shopping
Shopping bag or will have to buy
Card in purse, kiss money goodbye
Aisles are so busy, this is a chore
Will be glad to get home to put feet up
All 4
Meal to cook dishes to clear
Get kids ready for bed
Is the end nearly here
Think of my past life
I now appreciate no stress
Just curl up and sleep
They say it's a dogs life
Think this life... I will keep.
dated 22/07/2014
Why is it so hard to be happy
But so easy to be sad?
When I see how people treat each other
Sometimes it makes me so mad
It costs nothing to be civil
To make life easier for one another
Repaying years of love and care
To your father and your mother
Everywhere I go each day
People are in such a hurry
Trying to make ends meet
Shortage of money causing them worry
Whenever I am out and about
I can always find the time
To hold a door open for someone
They look at me like I’ve committed a crime
I was brought up with good manners
And sometimes people don't understand
Why when I’m introduced to someone
I always shake their hand
They look at me incredulous
As if taken by surprise
Then I shake them by the hand again
While we’re saying our goodbyes
When someone is taking up a seat
With their shopping bag on the bus
I sit in another seat
Because I can’t be bothered to make a fuss
I feel sorry for young mothers
With their pushchairs and shopping in hand
Their space taken up by a shopping trolley
So they have to stand
The pushchair blocks the aisle
And the driver he plays war
He shakes his head in disbelief
Can’t people read what that space is for?
If I am out shopping
And I’m standing in a queue
If someone has only two items
I know just what to do
I let them get served ahead of me
Because I’m in no hurry
The queue behind me tuts
But I’m not one to worry
Manners cost you nothing
It isn’t hard to be polite
But sadly many in this day and age
Don’t know wrong from right
The elderly feel insecure
Even in their own home
Many of them are housebound
Afraid to go out alone
Teenagers hanging around on street corners
Always saying that they’re bored
Making nuisances of themselves
Often community service their reward
What has happened to family values?
When people looked out for one another
Siblings always fighting for attention
In the shadow of a sister or a brother
I feel sorry for today’s generation
Good manners not being taught
I hope that by writing this poem
I have given you food for thought
when i got home from school
my mother was watching
oprah again
with a shopping bag
of ice on her knee
when i asked her
what happened
she said
“i dont want to talk about it”
and later i found out
she was working out
to a tae bo dvd
when her knee
popped out of her socket
and nobody was home
and she doesnt drive
and she had no friends
so she had to pop it
back into her socket
herself and she said
it was the worst day
of her life
In olden times things were saved or repaired
Old dresses stitched, boots and barrels staved
Worn-out clothing used as rags
No plastic wrap or bags
People believed in “A stitch in time saves nine” dictum
“Use and throw’ was a distant dream
I was the versatile commoner, the flour sack.
Branded with different names,
And stamped with names in purple, blue and gold
String sewn on the top pulled and seen.
Children used me as a school bag.
A man’s pillow, woman’s sleeping gown.
Or even a mail bag, or shopping bag
Constantly ready to serve, young and old.
All the time, at all the places.
Now lying in a deserted bunkhouse in a range
Still preserving the things of my master-ranger.
==========================================
Date 11-23-13
Dr. Ram Mehta
First Place win
Contest: Whatever Happened to Flour Shacks by Judy Konos
It was, I really must admit, with quite some trepidation
I braced myself and stepped up to the vacant self-serve station.
Placed my bag in readiness to save having to lift it
but a female robot voice boomed out and made me go and shift it.
After that it beeped and flashed as everything got scanned,
all items being packed away exactly as I'd planned.
Until I moved my shopping bag for another I'd be using
then 'Red Alert!' all hell broke loose,
the staff all stared, accusing.
Enough's enough- abandon ship, why let this thing unnerve me?
I'm off to find a corner shop, and let a human serve me.
I’m in your reign
You command thunder
And stir lightning
I’m in your ring
Working nine to five
Sweating for your love
I’m in your train
It’s a one-way ticket
A nonstop trip babe
I’m in your hair
Like tropical breezes
And I’m stung
===============
I’m in your rain
You command respect
And I soak in every word
I’m in your eye
I’m your apple
You take a bite
I’m in your head
And I’m lost
Out of my mind
In your shopping bag
Pinned to the bottom
Of your love’s spree
===============
I’m in your debt
You shop…shop
Until I drop
I’m in your pocket
Soaking wet
In the washing
I’m in our ship
Walking the plank
Oh my captain
I’m in your heart
Oh what luck
I found love
Walks with her shopping bag on her arm,
A big heavy light leather bag,
Her Mary Poppins bag,
She wants her milk,
The green topped one for her tea,
She doesn’t like the other one,
Something nice,
Some of that chocolate as well,
See if they’ve got that stuff
That stuff in the packet was nice,
I don’t like that “whats it called”
It had a funny taste,
She turns into her shop – it’s the best shop here,
The opening door bell ding-a-ding-dongs at her,
I hope they’ve got her stuff.
i make all stop
when i shop
for the holidays
my mind never fade
i just day dream
mabe i look mean
like a old hag
with my
CHRISTMAS SHOPPING BAGS
"Haunting Fruits and Innocent Wish"
Once I wish to be in a Souk
In search of some grapes and Fruits
On the way, I saw a poor woman with her kid
She bought him a couple of dates and fruits
On having made his wish good
Satiated he was , and in a happy mood
Peeping through the shopping bag, kinda shocked I was
Full of spoiled and rotten fruits it was
In a fit of pain and sudden burst of intense emotion
In my eyes, an outpouring of tears and emotion ,there was
Chasing her up , I walked fast behind her
Owing to the rush, from the scene I missed her
But the memory still haunts me to this day
Feeling of regret, I cannot get out of my head
(Muhammad Imtiaz[Jan-2017]: Based on a true encounter with a poor but self -esteemed Lady, who did not beg for fulfilling an innocent kid's wish )
https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10209150904209715&set=a.4719067274634.1073741825.1833114999&type=3
An erotic lettuce leaf. Strip. Then consume. Consumption of consummation is quite colourful in a layered green hue. But how often barbarians liberate barbeques with a token. How quite unfortunate for a flame to flambé. But nevertheless horseradish soup is extremely lovely at this time of year. Especially when tied to a tree. Tether well the cantering ones. In canopies. In classes. Fresh glasses are only an option in queue b and queue a often receives free unsolicited junk mail at ten a m. Do not judge a deviant monster of a mobile mob. For adjusted adjudication is best left to apples. In skirts. With very pink lips that bubble. Sitting on a time bomb is not wise. Over a decade. Over a drawing. And how quite entertaining it is to run around and around and around carrying a silver shopping bag with a golden handle. Great. Fantastic isn't it. Staffing steering steeples showing showery showerheads. And an exciting journey for a tiny little dog at the five million acre fun fair. Hahaha and how cutely arranged are the small onions leaping down the highway. Wow. Xxxxx curvaceous carrot creates calligraphy. Xxxxx demoralised Z no p y q today just Z
Tap tap play dough
ice-cream and rainbow
Grandma took us to Don Valley
To get some ribs for Aunt Sally
We went to the butcher's shop
There,we saw bees buzz buzz buzz
"Hello busy bee! How are you today?
How’s life? Is your hive making okay?"
Golden ball frowned and yelled at me
Stretched his wings and pointed his stinger at me
With his eyes blue as sky
He stared into my little eyes
I could see that he was angry
Hadn’t found my greetings so much friendly
I threw my ice-cream at him
I think I kinda squashed that thing
I screamed and jumped up and down
My grandma swiping her handmade gown
She banged my head with her shopping bag
I trembled and fell on dozens of beef stacks
More bees were coming for me
All for a small talk I did
Grandma grabbed me from my neck
Hurry! Hassled out of the mess I made
I shook my pants and stumbled
Tried to avoid the stares and mumbles
Lumps and bruises all over me
"I will never make friends with a bumble bee!"