Furnished And Burnished
My feet beat a rhythm across the Shopping Arcade floors,
and in through the swinging doors.
Up speeding lifts, to counters packed with attractive goods
and gifts.
Now, making straight for the place where there is glamour
for the face, one spies lipsticks by the score, so many
shades that one cannot but adore.
I must buy more.
That concealing blemish cream which smoothes on like a dream,
Is a must. They still stock it, I trust.
Eyebrow pencil in colour ‘blonde’, which just has to be donned,
and mascara in black.
I think I’m on the right track.
Some shadow for the eyes too, in gold, brown, silver, or blue.
It’s so reflective and so effective.
My countenance is now furnished and burnished. Such finesse.
And now I have to confess, that I am ready
to launch a new me, with a new philosophy.
So with my shopping complete, my feet retreat and beat
a rhythm across the Shopping Arcade floors,
and out through the swinging doors.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Great Defender
Down at the arcade the defender is there
Down off of broadway he's there playing his games
It's very dangerous
Putting money down on robotron
Oh, i'm the great defender
And i really know just how to get along
Down at the arcade, down at the arcade
Down at the arcade, down at the arcade
Down at the arcade
Down at the arcade
Oh, i'm the great defender
And i really think i've got it made
A fistful of quarters, a fifty dollar stake
Life is a gamble on video tape
I called a disc jockey
To dedicate a song to blair
It's the temps. singing "i'll be there"
Down at the arcade, down at the arcade
Down at the arcade, down at the arcade
Down at the arcade
Down at the arcade
Oh, i'm the great defender
And i really think i've got it made
The president called to give me the news
I've been awarded the nobel price in rhythm and blues
And stevie wonder
Wants to record one of my songs
Oh, i'm the great defender
And i really know just how to get along
Oh, i'm the great defender, listen to my song
I really hope you like it, it isn't very long
It's rooted in the 50s
But its heart's in 1984
And if you really like it
Then i sing it for you once more
Down at the arcade, down at the arcade
Down at the arcade, down at the arcade
Down at the arcade
Down at the arcade
Oh, i'm the great defender
And i really think i've got it made
Down at the arcade, down at the arcade
Down at the arcade, down at the arcade
Down at the arcade
Down at the arcade
...
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shopping
Were buying and selling your history
How we go about it is no mystery
We check it with the city, then change the law
Are you looking forward?
Now you want some more
Were s-h-o-pp-i-n-g, were shopping
Its easy when you got all the information
Inside help, no investigation
(no investigation, investigation)
No questions in the house, no give and take
Theres a big bang in the city
Were all on the make
Were s-h-o-pp-i-n-g, were shopping
Were s-h-o-pp-i-n-g, were shopping
Our gain is your loss, thats the price you pay
I heard it in the house of commons: everythings for sale
Were shopping
Were shopping
Were s-h-o-pp-i-n-g, were shopping
Were s-h-o-pp-i-n-g, were shopping
Ah ah ah, ah ah ah, ah ah ah, ah ah
Ah ah ah, ah ah ah, ah ah ah, ah ah
Were s-h-o-pp-i-n-g, were shopping
Were s-h-o-pp-i-n-g, were shopping
(were shopping
Were shopping
Were shopping
Were shopping
Were shopping)
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fireball Xl5
Ive saved a little bit of money from christmas gone,
What with my birthday nearly due,
Im dressing up as guy in the shopping arcade,
Have you a penny for a boy named blue ?
Ive seen it advertised on tv shows,
Flashed up on the evening news,
My local m.p. said I should grin and bear it,
But Id rather go and blow her fuse,
Right on, right off!
Right off, right on.
Right on, right off!
Right off, right on.
Let me tell you a little tale of naughtys,
On the estate I used to loathe,
I aimed 30 rockets at a shilling each,
You should have seen their front doors go,
Right on, right off!
Right off, right on.
Right on, right off!
Right off, right on.
Let it talk cb
Fireball xl sitting in the window,
Just waiting for a match to come,
Youre looking so so sad in your pretty coloured frock,
Dont let that make up on your eye balls run.
I got my little lot of money from a cherished friend,
His name was piggy but he wasnt to know,
He hit my god-damn hammer like a wall of bricks,
You should have seen his pig tail go,
Right on, right off!
Right off, right on.
Right on, right off!
Right off, right on.
Fireball xl propped up at my window,
Wondering what on earth its to do!
Now that its gone from the window of the shopping arcade,
Everybodys looking for a boy named blue.
Blue who
Blue who
Blue who
Blue who
Quack, quack, quack, quack.
Oink, oink, oink, oink.
Woof, woof, woof, woof.
Bridit, bridit, bridit, bridit.
Albert, albert.
Dont call us well call you.
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The rhythm of the beat
As the beats go on
I'll keep movin on
The music moves
Through my vains
I move to every beat
Watching my feet
Dance to the rhythm
To the music i hear
I close my eyes
And let my body move
Move to the beat
Thinkin of my feet
Moving to the vibes
That the music provides
The music gets loud
I dance more profounder
To the rhythm of the beat
I let my feet
Do all the dancing
To the music inside
As it flows through my vains
I let my body go insane
To the rhythm of this beat
poem by Karl Jones
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stopping Shopping
Aren’t we ever satisfied by shopping?
Just the thought of popping
Or, as some do, bopping
To the supermarket gets me hopping
Mad. Since my bag burst, popping,
When I was struggling, clopping
Home with the shopping
And distinctly dropping
And predictably plopping
Food on floors, with milk slopping
And smashed eggs dropping,
Making everywhere sopping
So it needed mopping
For, if I didn’t, they’d be stopping
There, where they’d be copping
Some unprintable whopping
Rude words that were popping
Out of my mouth. I’m lopping
Some out of this, not to offend topping,
Polite folk like you. And I’m chopping
And also quickly cropping
This poem short ’cos I’m flopping
With exhaustion. And I need propping
Up. So now I’m stopping -
Stupid shopping.
poem by C. Richard Miles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shopping for Yesterday
Busy crowds, lonely hearts, broken dreams
Shopping for yesterday.
Visiting the shared moments,
In all the familiar places
When shopping for yesterday.
We are all prisoners of the past
When shopping for yesterday
Knee deep in our loneliness
Surrounded by the crowd
We’re shopping for yesterday.
Pictures and memories
Half-forgotten words
Time slipping away
From the windmills of my mind
When shopping for yesterday.
poem by Adrian Wait
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The Beat Goes On
Drums keep pounding rhythm to the brain
La-dee-da-dee-dee
La-dee-da-dee-da
Wait till you have reached the age
Blah blah
History has turned the page
Blah blah
We still want to hear a brand new thing
Uh huh
We still need a song to sing
Uh huh
And the beat goes on (6x)
Drums keep pounding rhythm to the brain
La-dee-da-dee-dee
La-dee-da-dee-da
Love is a thirsting, lasting on my mind
From tomorrow until the end of time
And the beat goes on (4x)
And the beat goes
And the beat goes
And the beat goes on
Drums keep pounding rhythm to the brain
La-dee-da-dee-dee
La-dee-da-dee-da
We still move to a rhythm just like this
We still dream of sharing our first kiss
And the beat goes on (4x)
Drums keep pounding rhythm to the brain
La-dee-da-dee-dee
La-dee-da-dee-da
Well our kids are turning faster everyday (everyday)
We still want to dance the night away
And the beat goes on
And the beat goes on
And the beat goes on
And the beat goes on...
(to fade)
song performed by by Britney Spears
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A poem a day - Shopping with a friend
Shopping with a friend is cool
There's nothing forbidden, no rule
And no parents to say what's suitable
Or to tell you what's unaffordable,
Actually you don't need to be rich
To try on whatever your eyes wish.
Shopping with a friend is so nice
You might forget budget and price
And buy things you don't need
Just by habit, not by greed
Like get ten or eleven similar tops
From two or three different shops.
Shopping with a friend is funny
Even if you don't have money
You can try a formal blue shirt
With a long gypsy orange skirt
Pretend to buy them but act lost
Then don't, because they're low-cost.
Shopping with a friend is naughty
You can act humble or haughty
Change personnalities between stores:
Be a girl who laughs and snores
Or an english tourist, elegant and neat
Who went walking on the street.
But shopping is more pleasant with a friend
Who has a thousand dollars to lend.
poem by Rita El Khoury
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Stink!
'You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
Way off the beat without a syncopation given.'
All I've ever wanted from you,
Was your trust.
Although my honesty shows,
Perhaps I trust too much.
Can't you see,
I'd rather be in sync with you desperately.
But you think I should first prove,
My devotion is complete...
With a soothing approving beat you seek!
'You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
Way off the beat without a syncopation given.'
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink!
You stink.
You stink.
You stink! '
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink! '
I know this but I came without a motive.
'You stink!
You stink.
You stink.
You stink! '
Can't you see,
I'd rather be in sync with you desperately.
But you think I should first prove,
My devotion is complete...
With a soothing approving beat you seek!
'You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
You stink!
Don't you know you're out of tune,
And out of rhythm.
Way off the beat without a syncopation given.'
I get the message!
You have preferences.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Swinging Doors
Life can be like swinging doors
with people coming and going.
Some come in to stay awhile,
while others come in
for only moments at a time.
The swinging doors are never locked
and swing both ways.
There are those who enter
and never want to leave
and others who never want to stay.
Life is so unpredictable
and the swinging doors
are always busy
with people coming and going
from one day to the next.
1 September 2011
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shopping Without Edgar Allan
We will always shopping go
Without Edgar Allan Poe.
We go shopping, hopping, hopping,
From this store to that.
Edgar Allan was a Poe
Who never ever had to go
Shopping.
O.K., and so perhaps I lied,
And so perhaps his lovely bride,
Annabelle Lee and he
Went shopping, like
The rest of us.
poem by Fred Babbin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Downtown Dirt
Down at the arcade the defender is there
Down off of Broadway he's there playing his games
It's very dangerous putting money down on Robotron
Oh, I'm the Great Defender
And I really know just how to get along
Down at the arcade
Oh, I'm the Great Defender
And I really think I've got it made
A fistful of quarters, a fifty dollar stake
Life is a gamble on Videotape
I called a disc jockey to dedicate a song to Blair
It's the 'Four Tops' singing 'I'll be there'
Down at the arcade
The president called to give me the news
I've been awarded the Nobel Price in rhythm and blues
And Stevie Wonder wants to record one of my songs
Oh, I'm the Great Defender
And I really know just how to get along
Oh, I'm the Great Defender, listen to my song
I really hope you like it, it isn't very long
It's rooted in the fifties but its heart's in 1984
And if you really like it
Then I sing it for you once more
Down at the arcade
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Rhythm Of The Heat
Looking out the window
I see the red dust clear
High up on the red rock
Stands the shadow with the spear
The land here is strong
Strong beneath my feet
It feeds on the blood
It feeds on the heat
The rhythm is below me
The rhythm of the heat
The rhythm is around me
The rhythm has control
The rhythm is inside me
The rhythm has my soul
The rhythm of the heat
The rhythm of the heat
The rhythm of the heat
The rhythm of the heat
Drawn across the plainland
To the place that is higher
Drawn into the circle
That dances round the fire
We spit into out hands
And breathe across the palms
Raising them up high
Help open to the sun
Self-conscious, uncertain
Im showered with the dust
The spirit enter into me
And I submit to trust
Smash the radio
No outside voices here
Smash the watch
Cannot tear the day to shreds
Smash the camera
Cannot steal away the spirits
The rhythm is around me
The rhythm has control
The rhythm is inside me
The rhythm has my soul
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Christmas At The Big-K
At Christmas she went to K Mart
Which wasn’t very smart.
She got in the way
Of a mob that day
And was floored by a shopping cart.
Shopping sucks at Christmas time
Even at the five and dime.
Try shopping on line
And you will be fine
And you won’t be the victim of a crime
Or what’s more you won’t miss your Miller time.
poem by George Hunter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shopping For Dresses (feat. Loretta Lynn)
Jimmie Dickens, Merle Haggard, R. Q. Jackson
Down through the ages men have died for women
And done so for many times
Each time I loved one, I ve always lost one
Seems the right one is so hard to find.
Shopping for dresses with no one to wear them
One in each color, one in each style.
I ll find a lady someday to wear them,
My shopping will be done for awhile.
I ll bet somewhere s a lady shopping for britches
Comparing the value, appraising each pair.
Maybe someday the Lord will bring us together
And we ll both have a new wardrobe to wear
Shopping for dresses with no one to wear them
One in each color and one in each style.
Maybe someday if I'm lucky
I ll find someone to wear them
And my shopping will be done for awhile.
My shopping will be done for awhile.
I m looking for a lady who ll look good in dresses
She must be red-headed, green eyes and be fair.
I ll make exceptions to all my requirements
As long as she s willing to care.
Chorus:
I just saw a beauty with blue eyes, what a cutie
Bond hair like a halo around her did flow,
But the brunette beside her would be just as lovely
In the dresses I bought long ago.
Chorus:
Now as I sit here dreaming, planning and scheming,
Why should I make standards when everyone knows
As your need ranges, women make changes
And you must accept them or just let them go.
Chorus:
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Odd musings of an impatient heart
A shopping cart sits alongside the road
Its taunts me as its stands there alone
Just a piece of metal to passers by
But I see that metal and swallow a sigh
And now I've had more than I can take
Its eating me up and I begin to wish
That I could leave this place for a while
Or maybe forever that would be even better
Maybe I could meet someone who is new
And his words would be only the truth
Not lies compared to the thoughts in his head
But I see this shopping cart stranded alone
Just waiting for someone to come take it home
And i wonder of all the things that could make me sad
How a lone shopping cart had the effect that it had
poem by Kamryn Chew
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What If Girls Were More Like Guys?
Girls like nothing more
than making a guy run,
carrying a wish list
that may weight a ton.
Ignoring the work that should be done
to get away and have some fun.
Their actions make some questions rise,
some questions like the whats and whys,
and what if girls
were more like guys.
Not shopping for a thousand years,
not shopping in Macy's
not shopping in Sears.
Then, competition will be men's only fear.
This may be the life that men will like,
no more whats and no more whys,
when girls become
more like guys.
poem by Zoon Attique
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Praise Of Fiona
how orderly are your lines
how beautifully they appear
like morning sunrise that
never fails to arrive on the
window sills of my loneliness
and then the doors open
and then the floors sway
to the rhythm of your songs
but she was no longer there
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Perfections Highway
Do you feel the tapping of your feet.
Do you sense a quickening of the beat.
Rhythm in colour, rhythm in design,
Rhythm in your ear, rhythm in mine.
Hear the music liven up your soul.
Hear the notes as vibrating sounds control.
Let the pulsation give a serene touch,
Let the tempo mean to you, so much.
Sweet melody, weaving pleasant dreams.
Sweet melody, is always what it seems.
In accord, let intricate songs entwine,
In accord, they mingle, all so fine.
Come now, let the volume swell and strain.
Come now, let it be your best loved refrain.
For you, great symphonies will start to play.
For you, cloud nine’s perfections highway.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Battleground
Black nigger white nigger standing in the dark
Listen to the rhythm of the bass boom
Black nigger takes a hit sending up a spark
In the dark heat
Swaying a little to the bass beat
White nigger takes a hit takes money out
Says this is what its all about
Rots your brain - who cares
Black nigger stares
White nigger sighs
I like your music
I like your style
I crack a joke so why dont you smile
White nigger dancing out on the floor tonight
The bands not good but the beat seems right
The bands all black and the floors all white
Clenching fists unite and fight
Rock agianst racism rules tonight
But in the real world
No-one rules
But fists are clenched all right
Down in the underground
Out in the playground
The common ground
Is a battleground
Now you dont have to be black to be a nigger no more
The writings on the wall
Say - black is power
White is flower
Diveded we fall
And behind the wall
Behind the door,
In the dark heat
In the rhythm of the bass beat
Something is wrong
And no-one is taking the blame
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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