Labubu grins, a curious work of art,
Kasing Lung’s dream, brought forth from the heart.
Pop Mart displays, collecting carts start,
Lisa’s embrace gives trends a new chart.
People of faith, consider your part,
Not every craze should capture your heart.
Fame’s shining lure can pull us apart,
Discernment and wisdom must always take part.
Enjoy what is lovely, but don’t let it chart
A course that could lead your soul to depart.
The world may entice with treasures and art,
But truth and love must anchor your heart.
Let light be your guide, not just what is smart,
For faith is the truest and timeless art.
Half besides Shoe Mart
Rise height of ephemeral,
The other side blank.
Mart has almost no friends.
He is a different race than anyone at school.
His low I.Q. makes him act differently.
He is a concrete thinker.
Abstract thoughts he does not grasp.
When he gets a friend, he is super thrilled.
His exuberance overwhelms them.
He speaks in a super loud voice.
He is an incessant talker.
He needs no personal space, so he stands in your mouth.
Mart gets offended easily.
He shrieks and screams when he feels disrespected.
Easy conversation can trigger him.
He is moody and gets upset easily.
When a person tries to end a conversation, he is offended.
Of course, these are the people my mother forced me to befriend.
She thought it would help me develop empathy.
It actually made me angry and upset, like Mart.
Being his friend meant losing my other friends.
On her face the portrayal:
Was undeserved betrayal:
While resting in mortuary;
Later in her obituary.
But her photo had come first:
A scream-it-to-The World thirst.
But I have my own challenge:
What would finding a thing change?
Lies that could break a strong heart:
She’d shoplifted in a mart?
Or whisper desultory
Alleging adultery
“Man had been a betrayer,
Her face ‘not First Soothsayer…”
What if Mona Lisa’s treated like corn?
In multiple forms made and marketed?
From one of a kind and mysterious born,
What if it steals no heart nor turns keen head?
Imagine several shades of dull grey,
And classics that meander out of hands,
What if Sun never sets nor ends the day?
Bouquet that passes hands till blossom bends.
Nature’s art’s not a blueprint of all space,
Nor can be stretched on and on till it yawns,
Art ‘s not a self portrait devoid of grace,
There’s no grace in wildly grown garden lawns.
No, you can’t milk and market art to death,
The mysterious can’t be mapped in one breath.
_________________________________________
Sonnet |05.07.2014, revised Sept 2022|
Poet’s Note: This sonnet was born in response to a suggestion an aficionado (and I am sure, a market buff) made some time back of popularizing old classic paintings by making their prints and marketing widely.
I wanted to buy Walmart stock
My husband said it was a bad deal
It would never increase in value
I had a different idea, but he is the financial genius
So I backed down
And watched it rise up and up and up and up and up
I am still watching it rise up
But I keep my mouth shut about it
“Welcome to Kansas Sofa Mart. How are you today? Looking for anything in particular?”
They look like an odd couple. He is old and ugly; she is young and cute. Too cute.
Husband glares. Wife runs toward salesman, jumps on my lap, strokes my beard.
“You remind me of my daddy,” wife says. Husband looks damned mad.
I jump out the sofa, dumping wife onto the floor. This seems to please him.
(He may have the checkbook after all).
“Sofas,” she says. “We want a sofa” (Easy, peasy. They sell themselves).
“We have such a fine selection of sofas,” I tell them, giving them my winning smile.
I lead them to the sofa section. We have at least two hundred sofas.
She tries out all of them; he stands around, shaking his head, acting mad.
She loves color; he does not. She loves paisleys, plaids, polka dots, stripes.
He makes it clear it is black leather or nothing. Two hours later they choose nothing.
“Thank you for coming in,” I say. Trying to gulp up a bit of a smile.
(And wasting six hours of my day by not buying anything).
Do you have a copy machine?
Well certainly, Wal-mart said.
And she proved it.
I don’t suppose you have a notary, I said hesitantly.
I AM a notary, Wal-mart said.
She grabbed up her rubber stamp, ready to stamp.
I don’t suppose you take blood tests here, I asked.
“DNA tests?” She asked, perking up, getting out a DNA kit.
“Marriage blood tests,” I said.
Bring him over here, Wal-mart said.
“I am a reverend as of yesterday, and a justice of the peace
as of an hour ago. Blood tests are out. You can marry your brother now.”
Wow, Wal-mart! Wow!
I grabbed my brother.
PARKING LOT MEDITATION
Leaning back on my car hood
the old blue skies have my eyes
squinting ion clues of a melody
wanting to be born of scars in me
innerspheres humming to a song
an accompaniment to this show
of seagulls’ white wings soundless
in a crowded messaging sky shared
with jets of travel and wars lost in
a gleam of black crows eyeing gold
corn tasseled rows in a farmer's field
beyond this blacktop mall as tissues
catch my blow of sun sneezes in this
Wal-Mart parking lot as micro America
flows through a non-returnable Sunday
we are all too much with stuff and ink
yet I ponder to inhale what is beautiful
Charles Eastland
Altiloquent in behavior
Quick to carom
Unabashedly pawky
A labyrinthine of misadventure
Like living in Greenland
Hardly felt warmth
Got the oil-
Wanted nothing more
Silenced your weapon
Named it trust
In the end
Just shot yourself
Like Halloween everyday
Since the mask came on
A new disguise
Darker and darker you stay
Years ago I wrote a jingle for a real store.
They didn't know I did, but I did.
The soda pop shop
The soda pop shop
Be sure to stop
In the soda pop shop
If it ain't pop
We ain't got it
Jeff Mart!
In the month of July during whirlpool
A Legacy was born to challenge a fool
Who in sphere of market did money drool.
As all feast and dance and sing in yule
Many people like Vipul, Maulik and Sanket rule
Over minds of customers who remain very cool
In our D-Mart which served as a perfect tool,
Come and join the ever-widening D-Mart Whirlpool.
All - cashier, attendants, owners, sweepers - pull
Praise, sympathy, good words and have globule.
There are many wicked, old, shrewd ghoul
Who conspire against you O! D-Mart, My soul!
ACs, clean floor, smiling faces and nature cool ;
Bhaiya, didi, managers, workers, watchmen Spool
Are the real source of income than other tool,
Come and join the ever-widening D-Mart whirlpool.
Future is bright of D-Mart with such module,
It also includes good products, service Gruel.
No judge can verdict anything like rice overrule
Or China food item never finds in its pool;
Clean and healthy food items, fine variety gul
And great discount on many items that ridicule
Those who conspire despise it for its fame and tool,
Come and join the ever-winding D-Mart whirlpool.
Road Rage At Wal-Mart
By Elton Camp
It was a task Meg did hate
A shopping cart to separate
After many jerks to pull one apart
Annoyed, shopping she did start
Moving up the produce aisle
Meg had to face her first trial
A cart she couldn’t get around
Angrily at its user she did frown
Picking her beans one-by-one
Was the woman’s idea of fun
Bread aisle was the next delay
Please excuse me, she did say
The customer did only glare
To let her pass she didn’t care
At the eggs, she had to delay
Another cart was in the way
Express Check the sign read
A full cart pushed ahead
Angrily, Meg began to curse
Hit the customer with her purse
Only at Wal-Mart
By Elton Camp
Where you must park a mile away
Beggars are at the doors every day
Vacant shelves all over the store
How can shoppers ask for more
Items out of stock for weeks
A bathroom that, of urine reeks
The brands you want not on display
They force “Great Value” their way
The rollbacks, goodness sakes alive
Was nineteen dollars, now $20.95
Longer to check out than to shop
Long lines make you want to drop
We now shop there less and less
Higher prices not so bad, I guess
Publix and Kroger get our dough
More and more it is becoming so
The large
man underdressed for November
booms at the uniformed
kneeling guy who pushes
chocolate bars on the shelf.
The lady glides, slimly with
forward pressed jaw and
questions in her eyes. I
rush down the aisle,
by the anti-organized children
and duty-bound citizens with
wealth converted into protein,
and worried-looking men.
An array of
cloth color contains bodies.
No music
only machines confidently
stating their instructions.
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