The Syrians
Portugal used to have many groceries, but with
The big supermarkets are usually out of the center, so one has to drive
for miles to buy four batteries
The groceries began to dwindle
An Arab family, perhaps from Syria, bought a closed-down shop
Their shop opens early and closes late
Here one can buy batteries, milk, and a loaf of bread
The locals are glad to have them here, especially the elderly or
those without a car.
The Syrians are pleasant people who also serve strong coffee
in the morning, say, at six
They are the correct type of migrants, dedicated to hard work
With a shop needed in the neighborhood, which tells us that
Not all migration is bad
pants for watching -
as we wonder around the supermarket
my daughter pushes her own trolley
she's trying to give her brother's shins a wallop
he shouts at her - how dairy
the trolley is confiscated; we look for the extra strong mints
there's a dog in a trolley
looking shell-shocked
we pass the ham
my son talks of hamlet
my daughter, in the trolley; her cheeks scrape against
the frozen food doors
sweet chin music in the fruit aisle
i jump on the melons
in snack limbo
we find the mints and confectionary
we can't find the car
cash and carry blues
a trolley is rolling towards us at 20 mph
we're running out of thyme
18
I know there are no answers in Saint Germain des Prés
Or in Copacabana, nor on the top of Everest,
That’s why we’re listening to Albert Camus,
That we eat frog legs,
There is no response from teachers or mechanics
Or The stewards,
That’s why we walk to calm down,
There are no answers in love,
That’s why we wear masks everywhere,
We know that there are no answers at Jean Jacques Goldmann,
That’s why we kiss in the night,
We are crossing California on foot,
I know, darling, that our love is the only answer we have to breathe,
To avoid the bites of the rattlesnakes,
We know there are no answers in supermarkets,
Neither in Nietzsche, nor in the doctors,
That’s why we read Rimbaud and Baudelaire,
Whether we play the piano Debussy, or Fauré,
To make the world still bearable tomorrow.
PS a write without pretension, I hold no truth, I do not have any answer either
Palestine
Hamas fighters, the brave men and women who
fights for a free Palestine have been killed in the Gaza Strip
together with wives and children.
And once again, Israel sinks in our estimate to a criminal state
this Jewish-occupied land lives on hatred and only exists
for the benefit of their own tribe and has nothing else to offer
in a world where the everlasting guilt of the Holocaust makes
the world is silent to atrocities committed in its hallowed name.
when the American gun culture, the right to wear arms kills
dozens in supermarkets and on the streets dripping blood
we can be sure of big headlights, but this horror turns to ashes
when seeing the steady drip of murdered Palestinians in what
can be called Holocaust with a long view.
LONELY
Cooking for one is not much fun
There doesn’t seem much point.
The smallest saucepan’s far too large
And if I cook a Sunday joint
It’s still around mid-week.
The supermarkets seem so vast
And I’m not catered for.
Although they have the things I want,
They’re all in packs of two or more.
And you’re no longer here.
Remember when I cooked for us
And ate by candlelight
Our favourite pasta recipe
You always said I cooked just right?
I never eat that now.
My dinner’s on my lap these days.
The television’s on.
I tune our favourite programme in,
Then realise once more you’ve gone
And let the image fade.
That tear? It’s just the onions.
You know what onions do.
It’s force of habit I suppose
That made me go and chop up two.
But you’re no longer here.
15th March 2023
Writing Challenge - 'L' words poetry contest
Sponsor - Constance La France
The supermarkets in Manhattan
Naturally are small,
Perhaps to compensate for
All the buildings that are tall.
They aren’t meant for shopping carts
Or giant stock-up sprees.
Most people grab the items
They can carry home with ease.
Today, though, in the suburbs
I hit Wegman’s - what a store!
So huge it seemed like there were
Miles of aisles to explore.
The produce all looked fresh, as did
The dairy, fish and meats.
The bakery was filled with lots
Of yummy fresh-made treats.
And oh, the choices in the section
Set aside for beer!
The IPA’s alone produced
A grin from ear to ear.
For someone used to city marts
I sure was blown away,
But overwhelmed by all the stuff
So tempting on display.
Service, service with a smile
nary a howl or a scowl
At gas stations, supermarkets
at restaurants across the land
America's Service was its #1 brand
Then came self-service gas, big box
and supermarket self-check-outs ...
'Service,' a quaint notion from days of yore
gasping for breath ~
a whale washed up on shore
We live in unprecedented times
no people anywhere is able to escape
interest rates and prices go sky high
what will become of us before its too late
The oil prices rise to affect us all
finding fuel rises makes cars hard to drive
so difficult to afford just for a trip
look into the future and how to stay alive
Then we have energy prices rising
escalating continuously knows no end
how do we find the cash? goes up and up
will governments intervene to help our spend?
Shopping in our local supermarkets
prices rising week by week mo longer cheap
even the poundshops lost their own ground
makes you wonder what price we shall reap
So what does the future really hold?
can generations coming up truly survive?
it's going to take some to be mighty bold
to survive this crisis and again thrive
that's when everything fell apart
that intelligence has harmed us,
repeatedly failing in these matters
which are like immense runaway trucks,
reaching trees clouds castles
and the naivety of colorful fantasies.
now is a time of dusty feelings,
of masks to mask the masks
and there's nothing about you
that I can't find in supermarkets.
there is always a way out said the mouse,
entering the cat's dark mouth.
the whole planet is full
of needles and pins.
have you seen how the fabric of anguish is sewn?
saw how time and space bend in pain?
it is with disgust that the boy spits out
the medicine that could save him.
when everything fell apart,
intelligence only got in the way,
repeatedly failing in these matters
which are like immense runaway trucks,
reaching trees clouds castles
and the naivety of colorful nightmares.
now is a time of dusty feelings,
of masks to mask the masks
and there's nothing about you
that I can't find in supermarkets.
there is always a way out said the mouse,
entering the cat's dark mouth.
the whole planet is a seamstress' pillow,
full of needles and pins.
have you seen how the fabric of anguish is sewn?
saw how time and space bend in pain?
it is with disgust that the boy spits out
the medicine that could save him
Supermarkets are dying fast
Home delivery is now in the forecast
Delivery no charge
Changes seem hard
But markets will compete as in times past
Whale Sharks are listed as, endangered
and are found in, all tropical oceans on the planet
They are the largest fish and nothing like the Titanic
and their white spotted skin, makes them known as gentle giants
Adults are often seen feeding, at the ocean’s surface
but can dive one thousand meters, to feed on plankton
They can travel very long distances, for the need to feed
to sustain their huge size, and their need of reproduction
They are highly valued, on the international black markets
for the human need of greed, of their meat, oil and fins
They are victims of bycatch, when fishing for the supermarkets
and fishing disturbs their feeding, that can led to propeller injuring
A DOG CALLED BLUE
We had this dog once;
We all called him “Blue,”
Was great
Especially around our cattle,
When living on the farm,
“Blue” was in his element;
When bringing in the herd
On their way,
To be milked twice a day.
Gentle but firm;
Was “Blue” around the heels,
A nip here,
A nip there,
Certainly helping
Keep Holsteins minds on the job.
From top paddock
Down to shed,
Only reward
Was a bone for the chore,
And a lying down for effort,
With cattle at the herringbone,
In giving out their precious loads
Destined to be sold;
In supermarkets and stores
Far off in the distance.
Francis Cooper – Mac © January 2018
Forbidden Fruit
Wild bat hanging from a tree
Wings curled around furry body.
Sleeping soundly, nose twitches
Net captured, frightened creature.
Hot steaming Chinese market
Exotic animals everywhere.
Herbal medicine, cultural difference
Healing, treatments for illnesses.
One moment in time.
Eaten the forbidden fruit
Coughing, high temperature
Hospital death follows quickly.
Virus
Bad blood circulating
Body exhausted, fighting back.
Breathing hard, lungs hurt
Oxygen stable, under attack.
People to people human touch
Droplets infected moving around.
Hosts unaware of silent death
Travel bans, society clampdown.
Lockdown
Numbers increasing, scared panic
Supermarkets shelves emptied.
Self-isolation, loneliness
Anxiety, stress, depression.
Community unites, help needed
NHS support people cheer.
Financial crash, business closed
Jobs lost, families struggle.
Vaccines
Vacant beds refilling fast.
Acute wards overstretched.
Coronavirus spreading quickly.
Cannot contain the disease.
Inventive research needed.
Now the time for a vaccine.
Emergency funds available.
Signs are hopeful for the future.
Supermarkets stay open
The corner grocer can't
His plans, hopes and dreams
All crushed like an ant's
Big box retail has income from selling its wares
As the little guy quietly tears out his hair
His door must stay closed; those are the rules --
of free enterprise in the land of the cruel
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