Knitting always looked easy to me,
as a child I wanted to try.
I did try it many times,
oh no it was no good.
I love knitted things,
only store bought.
Is for me,
so sad.
Soft.
My mother was a perfectionist.
A seamstress who made all of our clothes
She would look at a dress in a window
Run home and make it but prettier.
I did not have a store-bought dress until I married.
It cost $19.99 and I was askance!
How dare they ask that much!
My husband had to send me back to buy it.
succulent citrus
fruity and wet
dripping down my chin
I know I am in Georgia
When I can pick my own peach
Off of a tree in grandma's yard
heavenly nectar, loving the taste
nothing like store-bought
Professional Poet…
to cringe at the term
A lonely consensus,
so much to learn
Days writing couplets,
nights dreamed in verse
Feelings when gifted,
mine to rehearse
Professional Poet…
to run but not hide
Resisting the accolades,
cousin of lies
The Muse calls my marker,
chits payout in thought
Each line spoken freely
—no longer store bought
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)
Store bought happiness.
A new dress
when you are young
and feel sexy.
Store bought happiness.
A hat and shoes
When you are older and do not.
Store bought happiness
To fill you up
to lift your spirits
Temporarily and never completely.
Store bought happiness
Fades rapidly
when the bills come in.
Professional Poet,
I cringe at the term
A lonely consensus,
so much to learn
Days writing couplets,
nights dreamed in verse
Feelings when gifted,
not mine to rehearse
Professional Poet,
to run and then hide
Resisting the accolade,
cousin of lies
The Muse calls my marker,
chits payout in thought
Each line spoken freely,
—no longer store bought
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)
8 Hour Families
By Kevin Robey
December 23, 2013
In the places we both know
I keep finding them in dreams
For a fleeting moment it seems
I touch the gleam of the status
quo
Now I see these daydream
ghosts
Displayed behind this frosted
glass
The winter storm made by the
masses
Reminds me of what I’ll miss
the most
Crazy days selling delusional
lies
Never saw the cracks inside my
bones
Don’t tell me what is real when
I’m alone
Answers that I hide are mine to
identify
I used to ridicule those 9 to 5
dreams
Slaving away with store-bought
families
But it’s sadness I feel when I
cannot see
A picture of me in the skies of
that dream
What will this ever be for
someone like me?
There are no instructions for
my curious mind
Preferential ADHD, I’m no
longer blind
Wanting all I see regardless of
identity
As I hold hands with the future
I cannot see
It’s a part of me that I’ll never
let go
Won’t turn away from the inner
freak I know
Till death do us part these
foggy streets ahead of me
Words can be bought for $2.50,
in any bookstore.
And can be used for less---
It's not what you say,
but how you say it.
Need you speak,
when you can show me
well enough.
Halloween is coming soon
it's not that far away
But it's nothing like it used to be
way back in my day.
Part of the fun when I was young
was creating your own disguise
by using this and using that
you just had to improvise.
You might be a Clown or a Pirate
no telling what you might be
dress in your parents old clothes and with charcoal
you could draw a beard or a little goatee!
But today it's all store-bought outfits
imagination and creativity are out
original disguises no longer exist
which was what Halloween was all about!
I'm Old Fashioned and way out of touch, I know
and probably should get up to snuff
But I still think the old way was better by far
That's it, I've said enough!
As I recall Halloween as a child
We used to dress up pretty wild
But not in costumes from the mall
In fact not from a store at all
We'd raid the closets in the house
And play a game of cat and mouse
To see who'd get the coolest stuff
An outfit that was off the cuff!
My brother mostly was a ghost
And of his costume he did boast
At times a pirate he would be
But I was more creative,see
A witch or princess wouldn't do
I usually had to think it through
My mom would help me paint and sew
And I was unique don't you know
Sometimes I don't know what I was
But my costume always caused a buzz
Half the fun of Halloween night
Was making sure you looked a fright!
Todays kids don't know what they missed
To them a costume won't exist
Unless at Wally World it's bought
When it's sold out they'll be distraught!
But I think I'm the lucky one
I feel we had a lot more fun
I'm glad I grew up when I did
A store-bought costume-God forbid!
Cases of bottled water
are bought from the grocery store,
while breads are stuffed into sacks,
to be baked at home no more.
Plastic jugs of preserved milk
lay upon shelves for days;
cartons of chicken eggs
await a human's cooking ways.
The choices of various cheeses
confuse a mortal's busy mind;
cans of delicious treasures
are a stomach's priceless find.
A variety of society's foods
tempt the taste buds of the mouth.
When store bought foods rush in,
home cooking seems to go south.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.