Shopping Trip
So when are you going to go
fishing then? 115 mm of rain says
nothing’s getting done while the
anticipatory pleasure of still more
to come remains discrete
And it’s not as if it wouldn't rain
weren’t you there – although, agreed,
enjoyment couldn’t be the
same as standing out in it
soaking up your privileged share
Eight days now you have delayed
a shopping trip in case you miss
a passing shower. Claiming ‘I’m not
that obsessed about it’ doesn’t quite
ring true somehow
This pique of moribund despondency
paints your thoughts grey and makes
you live anxiously; it’s not for me to
say but you to do – at least shopping
takes the legs off such unease
© 1 February 2010, I. D. Carswell
poem by Ivan Donn Carswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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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February Rain
To be the mud, the bog, the mire;
To soak the bones in February –
Eons from the autumn shower–
Even from a summer berry!
Sparrows chirp a desperate call,
Darting questions at the cows –
Oblivious to the dousing squall, they
Churn the sludge with pastern ploughs.
The crying air was lost in rhythm:
Drums incessant in the drops;
Not a chance for rainbow prism –
Even if the hammering stops!
Metallic chills entrap machines –
Tractors hushed within the shed.
Inside the house, a full cuisine
To bless with mead – and little said!
But out across the tiring field,
A sodden fox is hunting down
His prey of sorts – but nil of yield;
Perhaps he’ll starve; perhaps he’ll drown.
Still the clouds are hammering,
Hammering home their dreary aim –
A chatterbox in constant yammering,
Drenching all to make a claim.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Standin In The Rain
(concerto for a rainy day...)
(rain...)
Im standing in the rain
Im waiting all alone
Im so tired
I wanna go home.
Im standing in the rain
Getting soaking wet
Im doing my best
But what do I get?
Im standing in the rain
Cant seem to get along
People rushing by
Wish they could hear my song.
Im standing in the rain
Its teeming down on me
Cats & dogs
I wanna be free.
Im standing in the rain
Doing my thing
Im trying my best
What does it bring?
Im standing in the rain
Getting soaking wet
Im doing my best
But what does it get?
The good intentions and the pain
Lay drowned now in the pouring rain
I tried to be so good this time
But here I am under the sky.
The good intentions and the pain
Lay drowned now in the pouring rain.
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What If
What if I couldn’t see?
I wouldn’t know how to be.
What if I couldn’t walk?
I wouldn’t be able to go to the park.
What if I couldn’t smell?
I wouldn’t know early monsoon shower smell.
What if I couldn’t feel?
I wouldn’t even know how to heal.
What if I couldn’t taste?
All the gourmet food would go to waste.
What if I couldn’t touch?
I wouldn’t know love as such.
What if I couldn’t cry?
I wouldn’t be able to let go of grief even if I try.
What if I couldn’t smile?
I wouldn’t be able to feel light even for a while.
I can do all of these things
Lord, it’s a blessing.
, These are the gifts
We realize when we are unfit.
I have really no clue
How the less privileged do.
I guess with courage and acceptance
They go on with grace.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Peace Enough
it is impossible to discern
real ties between unwritten
shopping lists, injured shoulder
and mild depression –
so I rest easy
I know, I know, the
tamarillos need picking
they glare from unmown
grass beneath the trees
with angst restrained
been a hard week, grass
growing out-of-control
social calendar stealing
what little poise remains
I could be excused
which I won't be, there’s
always that self-righteous
bloody-mindedness playing
devil’s advocate – defence
against deference, so I’ll fail
but you will never know;
now if this shoulder would
relent maybe I’ll find peace
enough and contentment
in your epic victory
© 16 January 2010, I. D. Carswell
poem by Ivan Donn Carswell
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Standing There In The Rain
Standing there in the rain
crying through the pain
Standing there in the rain
its so dark no one thought
Standing there in the rain
i watch how all disappears
Standing there in the rain
i dropped to my knees
Standing there in the rain
no strenght to believe again
Standing there in the rain
i wish i can breath again
Standing there in the rain
Im no longer there
Standing there in the rain
wish i knew what to do
Standing there in the rain
the dark is waiting for me
Standing there in the rain
im getting stronger
No longer screaming
no longer believing
Standing there in the rain
i see someone staring
Standing there in the rain
its when the war began....
poem by Priscilla Colon
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Raining Blood
Don’t you wish the rain to wash away all fears
To blend with and dismiss all the tears
You wish the rain to calm all rage
To let you out of the emotional cage
You want peace to reign
Let all other thoughts fall away like rain
But when the rain doesn’t take all away
You wish the rain to not stay
When the rain is blood
It comes over you like a sudden flood
Fears come out to taught you
Tears come and attack too
Rage set free
Cage wont let you be
Reigning peace nonexistent
Rain now keeps happy thoughts distant
All things turn to blood red ash
Life no longer wearing a golden crown and sash
Means to me:
Well to me it means that the way the world seems can change because of one little thing.
In this case blood instead of rain falls from the sky.
February 2006
poem by Jessie Li here
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Rain Tears
Rain, tears, rain, tears,
Melding in torrential fears:
Chill of cloud; saddened eye-
In either way, a latent cry.
Rain, tears, rain, tears,
Married under sceptic jeers:
‘They'll never last.' Methinks not true, for
Either way, forever blue.
Rain, tears, rain, tears,
Simple love with lacy cares,
Their intercourse will ne'er refrain
From rain and tears and tears and rain.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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I Love You
How was your day?
I've not much to say,
But I miss you so.
What's it like there?
Snow in the air?
I couldn't watch you go,
But I want you to know.
Wherever you go,
Wherever you hide,
I'll be here waiting for you
In the middle of the night.
Whatever is lost,
Whatever may change,
I'll be here waiting for you
Standing in the pouring rain.
I'll do anything to be true,
To you.
As long as you love me,
And I love you.
How was your morning?
What time did you awake?
I miss you so much,
How ya been, Cupcake?
Why did you have to go?
Wherever you are,
I want you to know.
Wherever you go,
Wherever you hide,
I'll be here waiting for you
In the middle of the night.
Whatever is lost,
Whatever may change,
I'll be here waiting for you
Standing in the pouring rain.
I'll do anything to be true,
To you.
As long as you love me,
And I love you.
I miss your voice,
I miss you and me.
I miss how we were,
And how we should be.
Here I wait,
For the number eight.
The days going by.
They say time flies,
When you're having fun.
It's not yet begun.
Oh, hurry eight!
Don't make me wait,
And don't come late!
I can see you only,
In a matter of time.
I can't wait until again,
I can call you mine.
Wherever you go,
Wherever you hide,
I'll be here waiting for you
In the middle of the night.
Whatever is lost,
Whatever may change,
I'll be here waiting for you
Standing in the pouring rain.
I'll do anything to be true,
To you.
As long as you love me,
And I love you.
I love you.
poem by Mystykka Mysterious
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Cabbages And Beans
Like the dunny door it
simply bangs incessantly
until your patience thins
You can refuse to hear
it if you fry your brains
in oil with vapid apathy
A fear is that it might be
right and sadly true but
then again it might be wind
You’ve clearly had enough
if you accede too meekly
to its patent bullying
This cringing metaphor is
brazenness acclaimed
as an incipient authority
While all I see’s a pannier
of cabbage leaves and
salty beans
© 2 February 2010, I. D. Carswell
poem by Ivan Donn Carswell
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A Summer Shower
I'm standing here watching the rain
Running down my window pane.
For days now, there's been no rain in sight,
But when it does, couldn't it rain at night?
Every single plant and every single flower
Is extremely grateful for this summer shower.
I see people, who have been caught unaware,
Wet through with lank, bedraggled hair.
They quicken their pace and dash away,
Hoping that this weather isn't set for the day.
I, to, am hoping that it won't hang around,
As later, I was hoping to pop into town.
On the cars, the windscreen wipers swish to and fro.
Their tyres splashing through the puddles as they go.
The sky is grey, but I see a small chink of blue,
So maybe hopefully this rain will be over soon?
Returning to my chores, I hope with all my heart,
That the day will improve despite a dodgy start!
I return to the window. Half an hour has gone by
And I'm thrilled to see the sun is finally in the sky!
The wetness on the ground begins to evaporate,
So I dash into town before it gets too late.
The prolonged shower seems to have passed
And it's turned into a glorious day at last!
poem by Angela Wybrow
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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
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When it rains it pours
Rain is a strange thing
when you want it
it never comes,
and when you don't
it arrives in bucket loads.
Like at a barbecue
it will put a stop to that,
but you need it for your plants
so you won't get none for weeks.
You go out in just a t.shirt
and you get soaking wet,
but the weatherman said
it will stay dry all day.
I wonder if the weather people
told Noah it wasn't going to rain?
Don't worry I bet they said,
just the odd shower possible.
Rain stops sporting events
waterlogged pitches,
rain stopped play at Cricket
no Tennis at Wimbledon.
Grown ups dislike rain
but it doesn't bother kids
adults walk around puddles
but children just dive on in.
Rain can ruin holidays
sat in a caravan all week,
but you can guarantee one thing,
on your last day the sun will come out!
poem by Kevin Halls
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The Shopping Trolley Man
Every day for eight hours or maybe more
He walks up and down through the car park by the big food store
On the lookout for unreturned shopping trolleys for each one he returns a dollar is his pay
The most he might earn would be thirty dollars a day.
An ageing man of three score and ten maybe
By the big food store he is one you always see
To supplement his pension the unreturned trolleys he takes back
Despite his age in the will to work he does not lack.
His given name i do believe is Stan
But all of the locals know him as 'the shopping trolley man'
Tall and slightly stooped with gray beard and silver hair
Out of what he does he will never become a millionaire.
For the effort he puts in so little is his gain
He is there every day in sunshine or in rain
Yet one might say he's a hardy old boy
And what he does he does seem to enjoy.
To his toilsome task he remains ever true
And credit him since credit he is due
For each unreturned trolley he returns a dollar he is paid
Than this there's easier money by far to be made.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Rain... Rain... Rain...!
Rain on tinned roof
Rain on concrete
Rain soaking into sands
Rain on soft earth
Rain on metal road
Rain on windscreen
Rain falling into the sea
Rain in the river
Rain on flowers
Rain on leaves
Rain under trees
Rain on hills
Rain on my skin…
Each with its own unique raga
Reverberates across the sky
On to the earth…
05aug2010
10.30hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Rain
Billy said this town is dying,
it's dying just to be like me.
He was fighting everything in sight,
died when he was 23.
I used to meet him down at his cafe,
he had one eye on the door
and the other on the writing on the wall.
He'd get restless and angry and we'd all laugh
'cause we weren't really scared,
we was his friends, he wouldn't hurt us at all
And all he'd say was rain, rain, rain
rain, rain, rain,
rain, rain, rain,
rain, rain, rain.
We gotta leave this town.
And Glover was a dancer,
imitating Eddie Cochran by the jukebox.
In the corner of the room
'till he was lost.
Barry 'n me, we used to escape, playing I Go Ape
wearing Italian clothes drinking cider talking in the rain
Hey babe, come over here, let me buy you a beer, what's your name,
she said "Boy, it doesn't really matter, don't you see?
You ain't what I want, you ain't what I need,
you ain't what I fancy, you ain't what I dream of 'n I'd silently leave
?? you're ugly.
Rain, rain, rain,
rain, rain, rain,
rain, rain, rain,
rain, rain, rain.
I gotta leave this place.
My history is a cop-out
Somewhere in the dark I got scared 'cause I knew I was gonna loose.
You know that feeling you get in your guts, all that frustration when you know
you're going nuts.
You gotta make a move.
There was Billy and Glover and Pacer and Taylor and Valerie and Barry
I remember what he said about that town.
He said "I went to London once, came back,
wiped the tears from my eyes, looked out the window,
and it was still pouring down,
more of that rain, rain, rain,
rain, rain, rain,
rain, rain, rain,
rain, rain, rain."
I'm gonna get a train,-a
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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 Invisible
The rain makes me invisible
It invisible
The wind blows and thunder roars
Everything is more noticeable today
Except for me, invisible in the rain
Why did you make my heart cry
How did you make a strong man a weak one
I guess these feelings I can’t fight
Although made invisible by the rain
It has been an hour or two since you left
And yet I miss you immensely
It’s due to the thoughts running through
When will I see you again
Or even if that’s a possibility
Now as you’re looking down, I know I am not invisible.
And neither are these tears, I thought were hidden in the rain.
Written: November 18,2010
poem by Ryan Collins
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Lots Of Rain Around
Light rain may bless our gardens with its welcome shower
Blest rain may still our worries, make us once more sure.
Still rain may soften edges of the city street.
Soft rain may cool our anger, make things once more straight,
Cold rain may lighten the oppressive, summer heat.
Light rain may dampen fires of burning, seething hate.
Damp rain may grey the sound of unmeant harshness said.
Grey rain may wet our spirits, make us down and sad.
Wet rain may quicken our intent to stay indoors
Quick rain may lighten into sunshine, which endears.
poem by C. Richard Miles
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My Sneaking Tears
How heavy fell the rain that day
From burdened clouds of mournful grey.
The torrent forced them stay their height -
Composure swayed by onerous might.
My skin wrung wet with icy chill
As mud embraced that sodden hill;
But mind of mine had elsewhere gone -
'Twas clouds abandoned I was on.
The driving drops advanced their gears
To camouflage my sneaking tears -
Whence now did swell such floods of pain
To see me melt into this rain…
On equal bearing now were we:
This rain, myself, in harmony.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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