Yule Fever (With apologies to the King's Minstrel)
I must go down to the shops again, to the crowded shops go I
And all I have is a long list of the gifts that I must buy,
And a few bob in the old kick and a mere spot of credit;
For he'll trust me, so the boss said, but I hate the way he said it.
I must go down to the shops again, for the call of Christmastide
Is a stern call and a hard call that may not be denied.
And all I ask is a fair choice at reasonable prices
And a hard heart for bland blokes with blandishing devices.
I must go down to the shops again. There's gifts for Mum and Dad
And Jim's gift and Joe's gift and toy for Peter's lad.
Then all I want are gloves for Clare? And June? I'll send her roses,
And - who's next? The list says - I've lost it! Holy Moses!
But I must go down to the shops again, to the shops and the milling crowd
On a hot day and a fierce day when the skies know ne'er a cloud;
And all I ask is a fair spin 'mid the masses overheating
And the loud bawl of the bored babe, and the toy drums beating.
I must go down to the shops again, for I would be counted still
With the kind ./.. of the free hand in this season of goodwill;
And all I ask is a stout heart to carry on undaunted
While we scour town for the salt-pot that we know Aunt Annie wanted.
I must go down to the shops again, for they'll ply me, sure as fate
With the pink tie and the puce sock, and I must reciprocate.
But all I ask is a long seat when the weary trek is finished
And enough left for the Yule feast ere the bank-roll be dimished.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Related quotes
The Supermarket
I paid a visit to the shops,
On the arrival my wits died;
Money was exercised and I was made,
My own business stayed in the eyes,
The money made me rich and also richer.
No game was in the air, the shops,
The shops, and more shops.
This was a supermarket bustling with goods,
Food employed me to encounter it,
The wit of dying came to ruins,
The care of dying was living,
And this was the supermarket.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Avenue Of Love
(9/24/12)
Love is an avenue of which to explore
Go to any shop and open the door
Shops for every feeling known to man
Walk in to understand.
Shops for pain, sorrow, bitterness and heartbreak
Shop around - it's not to late.
Shops for joy, happiness, contentment, devotion
Shops for every emotion.
Stop in - look around - feel every emotion
That can be found.
Shop around ahead of time
To find out what awaits down the line.
But do not be fearful of pains
That may await
Take the chance - don't hesitate.
You can search every shop that's on this street
But there is nothing that can compete
To the love that you have deep inside
A love so beautiful that you can not hide
All these shops are in your soul
Open the doors and life unfolds.
© L. RAMS
poem by Louis Rams
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Stupidity Street
I saw with open eyes
Singing birds sweet
Sold in the shops
For people to eat,
Sold in the shops of
Stupidity Street.
I saw in vision
The worm in the wheat,
And in the shops nothing
For people to eat;
Nothing for sale in
Stupidity Street.
poem by Ralph Hodgson
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The Mall
Shops, snack bars
Chains of shops
To chain you to shopping
Lights, gleaming paint
Amusements galore
Kids hang out
At the mall
The modern day
Consumer fair
Built, just to consume
YOU
poem by Jason Palmer
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There are apothecaries' shops, where prepared medicines, liquids, ointments, and plasters are sold; barbers' shops, where they wash and shave the head; and restaurateurs, that furnish food and drink at a certain price.
quote by Hernando Cortes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Charity Shop
They're not called second hand stores
as that's not politically correct
so you must call them charity shops
out of courtesy and respect.
But where would we be without them?
because some are like an Aladdin's cave
as in them you'll find all kinds of stuff
and look at all the money you can save.
There's clothes for all shapes and sizes
Jumpers, T.Shirts, Trousers, and Shoes,
myself I like looking through the books
and the C.D'S of Rock, Pop, and the Blues.
We're living in a time of Austerity
meaning there's not much money to go around
so thank God for all of the charity shops
and those that sell everything for a pound.
So if your a bloke looking for a suit
or a woman after a blouse or a top
there's a good chance you'll find one
down your good old local charity shop!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Chronic alcoholism!
Wine shops,
Government sponsored,
Suicide attempt!
Wine shops,
Government sponsored,
Encouraging suicide!
Irrespective of caste and creed,
Education no bar,
Chronic alcoholism!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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What for is money?
I thought on how could be the life
Without having to work for money.
After all this is the money which we work for.
Had we only have enough money to spend
We won’t have to toil our body or brain.
Solution also seemed very easy to me.
Just have a lot of mints to mint money.
Make as much money as may people need
Give them as much as may people want.
All problems are seemingly soon gone.
The root of all evils I thought could be
the root of happiness of all kind instead.
“How could this easy way out be overlooked? ”
Thinking furthermore I thought.
We need mints and we need paper and ink.
We need banks and a lot of ATMs.
People will get money and go for shopping
So we need ample shops. In shops we need products.
We need make shops and we need make products.
but we also need people to run them.
So some people will make paper and some ink.
Some other will work in mints and banks.
Some will work in shops and making products.
Rest all the people will only happily buy things.
Thinking up to here my thought jumbled.
People needed money so they worked.
If money was available for doing no work
Then why should there be anyone to work?
If no one works then where from comes paper and ink?
Where from comes money, banksand ATMs?
Where from then comes products?
Without products how could then we live and enjoy?
So we need products and for products we need to work,
to get people into the works we need money.
So it was that money could not be made free.
I thought 'People have already thought it before me.'
poem by Palas kumar Ray
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In Sandringham
In Sandringham by the Pacific sea
The Town is quiet on this August sunday
Most of the shops for the weekend have closed
And dark rain clouds hang low above the bay
But Sandringham is not always like this
In Spring and Summer 'tis a busy Town
On sundays shops are open people crowd the street
From mid morning until the sun go down
But I would prefer Sandringham like this
I sit here in quiet cafe sipping tea
And only a few locals to be seen
And loudest sound the rolling of the sea.
The silver gulls outside the cafe door
They wait for handouts chips and scraps of bread
But man made food not much good for their health
It slowly kills them so it has been said.
I love the sea side towns on days like these
The streets are quiet and few people to be seen
And the loudest sound the rolling of the waves
And a soul soothing tranquility reign supreme.
In Sandringham by the Pacific sea
The Town is quiet on this August sunday
Most of the shops for the weekend have closed
And dark rain clouds hang low above the bay.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Ghost Town
This town is becoming like a ghost town;
Many of our local shops are closing down.
Once upon a time, this town was really hopping,
But now people go elsewhere for their shopping.
The life from our town has been sucked out,
And nowadays there is hardly anyone about.
Local people go to other towns and cities:
That it has ended up this way, is a real pity.
The town's population is rapidly growing,
But trade in our shops is rapidly slowing.
Many units stand empty for years and years:
Owners found the rents were just way too dear.
We need some life breathed back into town;
We need to turn this situation back around.
Of help for new businesses, we need much more,
So that our town can be the place it was before.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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The Finest Gift
verse one
She can shop all over town, turn the gift
Shops upside down
Finding something for her man with everything
But it's right behind her eyes and no matter what she buys
She'll always be the finest gift she brings
Chorus
Every year it's never missed, should be at
The top of every list
It can never be outdone,it's the perfect
Gift for everyone
Verse two
It's in everything you'll see scattered
Underneath our tree
You can hear it in the carols that we sing
It's the heart of love's design and it
Appreciates with time
And she'll always be the finest gift she brings
(repeat chorus)
Verse three
Now it's not in any store and she could
Never give me more
Then her promise of the finest gift she brings
I know her love's the finest gift she brings
song performed by by Clint Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Surprise in Japan - Shinjuku's sex toy shop
shinjuku sex shop
it's more interesting to buy
one staffer quips
The sex shops paraded rubbery sex toys all over. It was my first visit to a sex shop and was quite thrilled by the openness Japanese had towards such merchandise. The staffer was a woman. Shinjuku Kabukicho is one large red light area so such shops are found in the area. Perhaps she knew I am not a Japanese and tried to put a light joke on my visit. She knew it would be hard to sell me an item. But that was a surprise, a Japanese woman trying to sell something quite 'offensive' to a man and being quite cheeky about it.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Finest Gift
Verse one
She can shop all over town, turn the gift
Shops upside down
Finding something for her man with everything
But its right behind her eyes and no matter what she buys
Shell always be the finest gift she brings
Chorus
Every year its never missed, should be at
The top of every list
It can never be outdone,its the perfect
Gift for everyone
Verse two
Its in everything youll see scattered
Underneath our tree
You can hear it in the carols that we sing
Its the heart of loves design and it
Appreciates with time
And shell always be the finest gift she brings
(repeat chorus)
Verse three
Now its not in any store and she could
Never give me more
Then her promise of the finest gift she brings
I know her loves the finest gift she brings
song performed by by Clint Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Like so many Americans, she was trying to construct a life that made sense from things she found in gift shops.
quote by Kurt Vonnegut
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Like so many Americans, she was trying to construct a life that made sense from things she found in gift shops.
Kurt Vonnegut in Slaughterhouse-Five
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be yourself? Or act? Hide?
People are people,
Trees are trees,
Chairs are chairs,
Leaves are leaves,
Boxes are boxes,
Glasses are glasses,
Shops are shops,
Passers by are just passers,
People are the people they were born to be,
Whether that makes them “normal” or not,
Some people are totally care free,
Some people care an awful lot,
If someone is gay,
Then they are themselves,
If someone is lesbian,
Then they are themselves,
If someone is fat,
They are themselves,
If someone is thin,
They are themselves,
Some people act,
They act as other people,
They don’t want to be themselves,
They mustn’t be happy,
If you are who you are,
And receive grief,
They are only jealous,
If you are not who you are,
People look at you in pity,
They aren’t so jealous,
You can never win,
Do you be yourself?
Do you act?
Either way people judge wrong,
Is it them covering?
Is it them acting?
Are they themselves?
Or are they also hiding?
poem by Jodie Louise Pollock
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Million $ Question
Was always waiting for the crush
The car to drive right through the shops
To call in sick and late at work
And take a holiday
Was always tangled up in knots
To keep myself from speaking up
But no-one's listening anyway
Just trying to bribe me
And if it's alright
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Listening to a Drunk Complain about His Wife
There is a man sat at the bar
Complaining about his wife
How she continually finds jobs for him
Never allowing a moments rest
How he loathes the shopping trips
Standing around while she tries on dresses
Fifteen shops and back to the first
Still not a purchase made
Is the result of an afternoon wasted
He continues to complain drinking on
Saying how he wishes to be alone
I laugh knowing full well the difference
Knowing the lonely nights
The feeling of needing someone to talk to
Dining on a simple meal for one
Late night television being a companion
I’d trade it all to walk around shops
Complain about doing jobs
And whatever meal is prepared for me
The is a man sat drinking at the bar
He complains about his wife
And all I can think to say
You don’t know how lucky you are
poem by Matthew Holloway
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As Time Goes By
In our town there were many small shops, one selling
buttons the other socks; and a hardware store should
you need a hammer and nails to hang up a picture of
your mother -in- law, in the living room.
There was also a shop selling scarves, another selling
ladies hats, and a third one, quite posh, selling suits and
ties. I mustn’t forget the shoe shop, leather footwear
black or brown and white tennis shoes.
In our street of trade most shops have shut, those still
open are run by the Orientals where you can buy all
you need for a very small price. If your shoes wear out,
no point going to the old cobbler, buy Chinese instead.
Red lanterns sway in the fiscal breeze of decline where
wistfulness has no price tag. But you must remember
this, a shop is just a shop, yet, for us sentimental fools,
are remembered as a sweet memory of times gone by,
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Shop, she shops!
Once she constantly smiled
Bought cloths and jewelry that gave her style
Shop, shop, shop
She shopped till she dropped
Shop, shop, shop
She just could not seem to stop
Her credit was on top
Her spending way rocket up
She paid with cash or credit card
This Lady was absolutely shopping mad
Shoping malls!
Markets stalls!
Shoes, clothing, and handbags she bought all year long
Spend, spend and spend daily was her beloved song
Shop, shop, shop
She now shops like a flop
Shop, shop, shop
This lady has now put a stop
Today is different shopping expedition
This time spending with supervision
No more that crazy spending addiction
Her credit card is cut
Her goods seized, the whole lot
Today she spends, her pockets hurt!
She has become street wise
Haggling with each price
She has become precise
About what she needs and not what is nice
Shop, shop, shop
She shops like a flop
Shop, shop, shop
Her spending has taken a big drop!
This lady has now put a stop to shop!
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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