Long Shopping bag Poems
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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
In every loving relationship,
There are often hurt feelings involve
We all have certain expectations
We expect our partners to resolve
And when they don’t live up to them
We can feel a sense of betrayal
But if we don’t know the expectations
Then how can we fulfill it after all?
But if we take a moment to think
We are really hang over some fantasies
Of how a perfect lover should be
We see on some romantic movies
True love are shown in many ways
And its don’t carry a price tag
Love don’t come in a size of a diamond
Or in a Victoria's Secret shopping bag
Love are shown with little actions
Like holding you close when you are sick
And running out to get what you need
Coming back home with it very quick
Love is bringing a tear to your eyes
By missing your love one from far
And telling her how sweet she is
While she eats lemons that’s very sour
Love is like the wind of a hurricane
It can travel across the universe
And it blows on all ages and colors
Love is very unique and diverse
I love the some one with out fear
And will accept her without restrictions
And I trust her without questioning
And I desire her without inhibitions
I though I would never find love
Love and I never had an understanding
To me love was like a hot air balloon
That will always results in a heavy landing
So I try to convince my heart
To give up on love already
Then god opens up the heavens
And send an angel here for me
Now I find a new passion for life
That’s full of hopes and expectations
It’s just like the seeds in the orchards
That will soon comes to full fruitions
Love makes you wake in the morning
And see the world for the first time
Love can make the highest mountains
Seems possible for you to climb
And it will take a miracle to be her
For she’s an angel and I’m just a man
But god who made us meets
So I have a lot of expectations
We take Bubba home to drop him off
His father and mother come out, they begin to hack and cough
His father extends his hand out to shake mine
My wife says don't be rude, go ahead and shake it, I do so, his hand is covered
with mucuossy slime
After shaking his hand, I begin to gag
The wife with no bra, smiles and hands me a Save A Lot shopping bag
She takes a swig from her 32 oz brew
Then offers it to my wife Sue
I say come on, it is your turn to show manners now
As she takes a swallow, I watch her face, the expression looked like she was
trying to give birth to a cow
Bubba asks his father if we can all stay the night
The father says fittin' us all in one bedroom will be very tight
I tell him we will sleep in the kitchen near the back door
He says pay no mind to critters on the floor
I ask where is the toilet, I have to go
He says out back, you're in luck, I just dug a fresh new hole
I think to myself, this is not the way life should be
A night at Bubba's I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy
At 3 am, they are in the kitchen stepping over us getting snacks
We are offered each a bowl of that famous soup called fatback
Bubba yells I want my box of cupcakes
His mom hands a pack of Reelfoot pork hot dogs and says for goodness sakes
He devours them as if he was in a hot dog eating contest
Bubba says, after I eat my cupcakes, that will tie me over so I can rest
A little after 4, Bubba gets his fill
After breakfast, we were told we can leave on our own free will
After trying some rocky mountain oysters, it is time we leave
The dad says we would love to come and stay with y'all on New Year's Eve
I tell him until 2040 we have plans
He says that's fine that will give them enough time to collect some aluminum
cans
We move to another state with no forwarding address
Never again putting ourselves in that kind of mess
How happy can one be?
Ofentimes, I wonder aloud,
Taking advantage of my creative licence.
Let me explain -
The filth I encounter in this city:
Stinking garbage hills along the sidewalks,
Bloody graffiti of betel-nut stains on walls and lampposts,
Jellying lumps of bronchial ejaculations
On carelessly laid pavements of crowded walkways
On which I negotiate my bearing with a grandmaster's moves,
A gentleman peeing into a roadside drain,
In broad daylight, all the while
Looking up at the sky,
As if he is criticizing a painting of Michelangelo,
Even as his beer color discharge bubbles on
Overflowing effluence let out
From cesspools of adjoining buildings,
A hairless dog licking at a sanitary napkin,
Thinking it is a slice of loaf with generous spread
Of jam on it,
Like the way a chupacabra plays with a helpless lamb
Before the fatal bite.
I reached my breaking point yesterday,
When I saw a shining red car with sparkling windows
Pulled up and a hefty plastic shopping bag flew out of it,
And landed at the foot of a signpost by a level crossing,
Which read - Don't dump rubbish here!
And the car rolled away in style.
I stood frozen in utter disbelief,
While a three legged goat limped in and
Began inspecting what was inside the new arrival.
I returned home hallucinated and deeply scathed.
In the bedroom,
I found your black silk stockings
Sprawled across the floor.
I observed the illusive embroidery on them and sensed
A slow storm brewing up in my guts.
A precarious yearning suddenly nudged me
To touch the blue veins on your ankles.
And I felt a minimalist petal of happiness swirling
On a gentle breeze in my papery existence,
In spite of the revolting landscapes.
Form:
Thanksgiving Day has arrived
in the nippy month of November,
and the dining room is in a festive mood;
Holiday music is softly playing in the living room...
the aromatic smell of the oven roasted gobbler
spreads to each room, to make everyone drool
for a taste of this delicacy in the late afternoon,
I bet all of them would!
Yesterday morning I went to the local supermarket,
and looked for the youngest and fattest turkey,
the one which is tender and moist...a turkey guests love to eat;
and when I spotted the best one, I hurled it into my shopping cart,
and went straight to the cashier acting a little crazy,
knocking down piles of canned food all over the floor,
and making all the customers scream!
Somebody next to me yelled,
" Young man, be careful...look out!"
Over there...another pile of tomato sauce jars
fell and the breaking glass sounded
worse than a quake hitting this quite town!
Embarrassed, and somewhat hilarious for the unexpected mess,
I rushed out with my heavy shopping bag...trudging like a hunchback!
The oven roasted gobbler steams on the table deplete
with lots of Holiday treats: eggnog, apple cider,
cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie, roasted chestnuts
and a set of red candles to match the glossy plates;
O gobbler so perfectly cooked, you're ready for the sharp knife,
and be cut by the volunteer who will say, "Grace!"
O gobbler so tasty and young, wouldn't you love
to come back to life...and poke everyone with your beak?
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
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.
While searching for unique places, where I could watch the rising dawn
with stupefied eyes always eager to search and discover,
I came across a rare and never seen childhood picture;
can anyone imagine the wondrous joy of the first exploding emotion?
That picture was taken in a town where history left its trace,
and by rediscovering it, it infused gladness
enabling memory to make a return to sadness...
when I stared at that boyish, timid face with a sun-lit face.
The huge square with a neoclassic water fountain was cramped with vendors...
it flashed vivid images of thrifty visitors, neighbors, family and friends;
I recall mom carrying her heavy shopping bag asking for my help,
and peaking to see what was inside, I accidentally dropped my gray cap.
Many decades have passed and much has changed ever since;
wasn't my town ravaged by World War II? Didn't horrifying screams rise
while above hovering Allied airplanes dropped their powerful bombs
to target the German soldiers who had invaded Baiano by the thousands?
A picture such as mine is a testimony of a bygone era some would like to forget,
and seeing buildings reduced to rubble was heartbreaking; no, some were never rebuilt
to witness the atrocities of war experienced by the doomed citizens of Italy;
and wasn't Mussolini Hitler's puppet of vain ego who caused his country much misery?
She didn’t know pt.2
The Getaway
Making my get away I was walking fast.
Hiding the two bags of money in an old target shopping bag.
Walking with no witnesses as to which way I went.
It was all I could do not to break out and sprint.
As we now know it’s not safe to wear a hoodie
when you walk through a gated community.
I saw the volunteer guard before he saw me.
Briskly I ducked behind a large Oak tree,
I didn’t wanna windup D-O-A
in the middle of my get away.
This time of morning
there were no other prying eyes,
so, I quickly changed out of my bold disguise.
Slowing my pace, taking time to rub a little
dirt on my face.
Karma and luck were with me,
still no one gave chase.
Made it six blocks and on a corner.
Found a man looking out of place.
We made a traded and I give him a good deal.
For his card board sign that said
(Help I’m Homeless)
He got a white sweat suit and enough cash
to eat a good meal.
I give him another twenty
and said to have a good time.
Because for the rest of the day
this is corner is all mine.
So, I stand on this corner
with my help the homeless sign.
Hiding in plain sight, in the next poem.
I’ll tell you what happened to me that night.
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
Form:
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!"