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David P Carroll Sep 2020
Shopping in Aldi today
We love it so much we want to stay
Where having so much fun
Shopping in Aldi today
With a smile on our faces
Where in right place
Aldi is where you should be
Spending your money here with me
And I love the taste of
Aldi's wine it's as nice as can be
It's even as nice as me so
Hand in hand we walk together
Me and my beautiful wife
Love shopping in Aldi and
We'll be together shopping
In Aldi forever..
Shopping đŸ€ŁđŸ˜
Allison Nov 2017
Unmoved by your arrival from the west coast,
ten thousand little things are different.

It’s October and the trees are on fire:
a forge that you won't notice, 'til you're gold.

Your Kicks don’t leave footprints on these cobbled streets;
even the children have old, leathery hands.

Try to paddle-board the Eno and the bass go belly-up:
that river’s for scattering ashes and making moonshine.

All they sell at Aldi is ethnic shampoo,
so now your hair twists like the roots you’ve lacked

'til now, because all you’ll ever need is two hands:
for prayer, and work.

Life moves on like a cigarette’s drag,
while somewhere Hope’s fiddle strums;

Take off your headphones and
go put your ear to an oak.
Joyous rapture awoke sleeping animalistic giant:
carnal, feral, gonadal horniness in deed, when defiant

this primate crossed figurative
   paths with a stunning woman
older than a spring chicken freed
   via ma hen nah paws van
jealous (of casual suitors),
when I figuratively crossed urban
paths with delectable dame.

   This hedonistic mwm veritable tan
tin nab buell lay shun caged in rein
   mister experienced euphoric San
ta Claus gifted encounter merely
   approached a female stranger ran
king as absolutely beautiful asper
   Samson recounted Delilah, Qan

i.e. qualification assurance notification
   within this poetic blurb. Pan
dum money yum (does not come close)
   upon entering a nan
oh meter times a gazillion equals
   scope of super sized ALDI's, every man
woman, and child could be housed.

   This supermarket (anchored lan
did at one end of a string of bungle
   low slung businesses conveniently kan
struck ted adjacent to popular stores,
   which aligned buildings a haven come Jan
ewe weary, these newly constructed
   bricks and mortal portals along Ian

eyesed, seen as primary corridor
   i.e. Ridge Pike (linkedin with Han
sill and Gretel recently rural gingerbread
   cookie cutter communities). Gan
a mead by Jove, said affordably priced
   food store noticed as a fan
tass tick location along the driver side
   heading towards Limerick, ean
at dark hours within Pennsylvania).

   This patron (me) of aforementioned Dan
dee nofrills modestly priced franchise
   espied an available card soon after Can
Nudda entered this outsize place
   to buy groceries. Another shopper (a bon ban
Joe plucky strung string apetite
   slip sans attractive gracefully aged gal) anan

entered said market seconds later,
   and dye motioned (to her) as she sigh
lent lee reached same idle sturdy cart,
   which ordinarily requires a quarter to pry
loose from a train of chained property.
   I unthinkingly, reflexively, and blithely my
deferred politesse she took possession of cart.

   Within instantaneous affirmation je
nais sais quais consent given for her
   to load groceries in sought after cart, this guy
noir got fast impression immediately formed,
   whereby visually this chic chica to die
for spurred enticement as very pleasing
   Halloween eye candy, hence desirable allie

madamoiselle in question totally tubularly
   unaware of lovelorn spate. Minutes before
tardy reaction (and perfect comeback
   ex post facto) momentarily preoccupied chore
viz reviewing mental check list, my intent
   to act with courage and acknowledge a door
quick to close.  Her (unbeknownst)
   attractiveness to me. Upon inadvertently
   froze me like Eeyore

glancing at thee beautiful doll female human,
   an aggregate of positivity arose. That four
tut hood toward slender youthful looking chica
   figuratively took my breath away. She galore
re: us lee ranked topnotch on my register
   of aesthetic delight. Thus, while this jackfrosted ****
frosted flake ambled up and down aisles,
   an aim sought to relay pleasant physiology while Igor
Stravinsky – Flight of the Bumblebee buzz

   within every square inch of my anatomy bon jour
quivered with cockiness, covetousness,
   and craveness without resorting to Dumble Da lore
for guidance, hence indecorous, impetuous,
   or idolatrousness loosed rampant as more
consideration asper jimmying bold, daring do
   hounded (Lo and Behold) luck did not ig nor.
A nod in answer to prayer ready set terrific
   wonderful chance arose pondering how to mine ore

and coax a major outcome addressing this ambition,
   which unceasingly pecked, piqued, dirt poor
**** lee  pricked thy noggin about sudden revelation
   presence pretty lady Upon quor
tar number of minutes passed,
   whereat her increasing proximity, an unflagging score
begging akin to patriotic duty and appeasement
   sans uttering a compliment recognized roar
ring optimal (once in a solar eclipse) chance
   to corral, field, and invoke latent obligation that tore
per regaling unknown xwoman a dollop gratutity.
   Whether embarassment ensued possibly war
temporarily shunted aside, cuz if no propensity
   to risk testing cab age comfort zones of yore

if awesome stroke ignored, a disappointment
   toward self would manifest irking conscience.
For the rest of eternity. So without missing
a beat (and reckoning with nary a spare off fence
guess not to turnip ma nose), a apple lick able amicus
   brief pickle this complimentary gents
dare devilishly egged, finessed, gambit regarding
   how gorgeous (a veritable stranger) kents
humed and appealed to me, whence squashing
   regret at a costly emotional ex pence.
judy smith Sep 2015
Cheap fancy dress costumes are to be subject to spot checks by trading standards inspectors, to avoid a repeat of the fire that seriously injured the daughter of the television presenter Claudia Winkleman.

Ministers have ordered the nationwide crackdown as thousands more children’s outfits and accessories, some of which are aimed at babies and toddlers, go on sale online and in supermarkets in the runup to Halloween.

The costumes, ranging from witches’ outfits to skeleton onesies, selling as cheaply as £6 each, will be subjected to flammability tests to assess whether they are compliant with safety standards.

The crackdown follows Winkleman’s warning about fancy dress costumes when her daughter suffered serious burns as her outfit, bought from a supermarket, caught fire. Winkleman questioned why the outfits were treated as toys rather than clothing when it came to safety tests.

The business secretary, Sajid Javid, said: “My immediate concern as a father and a minister is that children wearing these fancy dress costumes are safe. It is unacceptable for any costumes to be sold that do not comply with safety standards. That’s why I’ve granted funding to trading standards to carry out spot checks as part of a nationwide investigation. Parents should feel confident that any fancy dress they buy meets required standards.”

His department said it was working with the British Standards Institute to assess whether the applicable European safety controls needed to be more tough. Trading standards is to report back to the business secretary with their findings later in the autumn.

Sales of fancy dress costumes for children have soared in recent years, prompted by cheap imports being available and children increasingly wanting to dress as their favourite characters from blockbuster films. Halloween outfits have become more popular in the UKowing to the influence of American films and sitcoms. Supermarkets report that 31 October accounts for significantly more consumer spending than Bonfire night.

The dangers of the outfits were exposed in November last year when Winkleman’s eight-year-old daughter, Matilda, suffered serious burns when her witch costume caught alight. The outfit – a hat, cape, striped tights and flowing skirt – bought at a supermarket, was ignited by a flame.

Winkleman, host of the BBC show Strictly Come Dancing, said on Thursday: “We’re extremely happy the government are taking action on this and we’re so grateful to the supermarkets who are selling safer costumes.”

Some retailers have agreed to go further than minimum standards, after a recent investigation launched by Winkleman with the BBC1 series Watchdog. Tesco, Aldi, Asda, Morrisons, and Sainsbury’s, all responded to the investigation by stating that their fancy dress outfits for children would meet the equivalent of the higher fire safety standards required for youngsters’ nightwear.

A spokesman for Sainsbury’s said: “We have looked at every detail of our children’s dress-up range in creating our new standard and believe that it will be industry leading. This has not been a simple task, but the safety of children is our number one priority and introducing more rigorous safety standards for our children’s dress-up is the right thing to do.

“All clothing carries some fire risk, but we hope that introducing our own rigorous testing standards that test clothes as clothes rather than as toys will be the first step towards safer testing across the industry.”

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-perth

www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-sydney
Every chat up line I ever tried was a waste of time and then I died a hundred times or more waiting for her to come but the door stayed closed, believing I was supposed to be the epitome of masculinity, steroids to increase virility and a mustache because it suited me I was irritated instantly each time that she rejected me,
I suspected a conspiracy,
but
she did it on her own.
DannyBoyJ Sep 2015
Through the smoke, **** and *****,
A parking fine, ***** on it.
The most horrid sight, we’re used to it, right?
The capital’s disgusting and we’re ******.

Lengthy ques for employment,
Assorted drugs for enjoyment,
Our bank account’s bust, believe it we’re ******,
The government won’t even lend a hand.

Will it be Lidl or Aldi?
Wetherspoons, cheap and rowdy.
An overdraft to, purchase more *****,
Fracking makes us hate you more, it’s true.

Unpunctual trains, privatisation.
It’s ******* cold at the station.
Elite middle class, this country’s a farce,
Don’t even get me started on the EU.

Chicken wings and pollution,
Private health care – THAT’S THE SOLUTION!
Increased licence fees, no money for tea,
Five more years of Cameron and we’re *******.
Nick Strong Oct 2013
Earthy mottled brown,
Pomme de terre
The humble spud,
When not covered in mud;
Chipped, boiled or mashed,
Steamed roasted or hashed.
First the Incas of Peru,
Used them in a stew.
Now the tubers grown in space,
To further the human race.
Chopin, Mozart, and Vivaldi,
Can all be bought at Aldi.
(Other supermarkets are available.)
(More varieties are saleable.)
A versatile Maris Piper,
Couldn't be any riper,
When served perfectly baked.

    Â©  Nick Strong 2014
I don't want to be a speck in this ocean of humanity.
I don't want my words to be so small and obscure that even the keenest ear, still, cannot hear.
I don't want to be tossed and kicked and shoved about, like the speck I fear I am.
The speck that floats & sweeps and glides & sighs - the speck that will never be examined.

I breathe.
I live.
I mean.
I am.

I don't want to be invisible.

---

The world is one big bustle after another - people pushing and shoving, only to sleep and repeat?

I am the one you bumped into, in a race to catch the nooner to downtown Detroit.
I am the girl you stumbled past, in your rush to catch another cab.

I am the flower ******* McKenzie who sold you more marigolds.
The waitress at PJ's who asked, "More cream?"
The cashier at Aldi's who bagged your Arizona.

I am that ticket taker at Cinemark who gave you your stub and genuinely hoped you would enjoy your movie.

I am the girl you're seated by, right now.
This instant.

So close, you can hear her soft breaths;
So close, you can nearly smell her perfume;
So close, and still...
You stand.

You gather your things, get off the train, and run off to catch another, what?
Bus? Plane? Cab?

You're gone.
And, I'm here.
And, I'm still the girl;

The girl who might have been your soulmate.
But, you traded me for 15 minutes of silence and a bed you'd sleep in alone.

---

I don't want to be a speck in this ocean that is your world.
I want to be a boulder.

I want to mean something,
And be something,
And exist to you.

So, STOP.
I'm here.


"Hello."
Paul Gilhooley May 2016
Widnes aint much, but to me she’s sweet home,
Safe refuge from wherever I roam,
Many may claim that she’s ugly and ******,
But open your eyes, and she’s really quite pretty.

From down by the snig, to up to the Crown,
There’s pubs a plenty where sorrows can drown,
The Globe, The Coterie, now Pesto of course,
But to all us old locals, it’s still the Black Horse.

Town centre drunks, laugh while they rant,
Old ICI and their Paraquat plant,
An industrial past, its dirt and its grime,
A ***** old river, her sludge and her slime.

Of nature reserves, we have quite a few,
From out of our wastelands, something wonderful grew,
Wildlife thriving where once we dumped *******,
Now even the Mersey lives once more with fish.

The factory smells that insulted our noses,
Spike Island, proud host once to the Stone Roses,
Paul Simon himself, when loneliness found,
On one of our stations,  wrote Homeward Bound.

The Beatles once played our dear Queens Hall,
Derelict now, no more curtains to call,
We love our music live and loud,
We truly are a passionate crowd.

A sporty town, but leagues our game,
Tho’ recent years have been quite a shame,
Myler, Karalius, Davies, Offiah,
Crowned World champs, our status climbed higher.

Proud we cheered in old Naughton Park,
The cowsheds, cold, smelly and dark,
The glory days, they came and went,
Old fans speak in sad lament.

The whole town’s roads, my how they’ve changed,
Drivers sit there now, all deranged,
Confusing sets of roundabouts,
That lead us there, or thereabouts.

Morrisons, Aldi and now a Tesco,
Asda Halebank, well that had to go,
A curious accent, not manc or scouse,
Just hear us speak with Woolyback nouse.

W’s in words, like one, two, three, foewer,
And entering homes, through a front doewer,
It’s hard to explain in a few lines here,
But a few minutes in town, and all becomes clear.

Bowling, cinema and now an ice rink,
The town is recovering, back from the brink,
There’s Costa, Next, Boots and Wilkos,
Who else is coming, no one quite knows.

Widnes has changed in my 40 years,
But filled with hopes now instead of fears,
Change for the better? Let’s wait and see,
But no matter what, she’s still home to me.

© Cinco Espiritus Creation
2012
Poem written about my beloved home town.  She aint much, but she's home to me.
Jiawen ćŒ  Oct 2017
An international wire transfer was made last Monday.
2,000 dollars were sent to China from America.
I expected the money would arrive in China in 2 days.
Like, how it takes 2 days for my yearly 35,000-dollar tuition
To be sent from China to America.
    
I continued my week as usual.
I went to Aldi, a German company,
To get some groceries.
It was fast and cheap with good-quality products.
    
I went to Walmart, an American company,
To get more groceries.
I waited in line for 30 minuets.
It was slow and cheap with known-brand products.
    
That international wire transfer made last Monday,
Still wasn’t received on next Monday.
It went through an intermediate American bank,
Because my bank itself doesn’t do international transactions.
My money is still on its way to China from America.
#SomethingFunny
Ryan O'Leary May 2019
On the poster, outside Aldi, it
states that the O'Byrnes family
saved 347 Euros this month.

What was not mentioned, is,
Mrs O'Byrne who is known
to the Police, is a seasoned
shoplifter, she has been banned
from Dunne's Stores, Tesco and
more recently, at Lidl on The Park.

A Spokesperson for Aldi has
acknowledged that The O’Byrnes
were actually caught in the act
with 347 Euros of product, but
rather than prosecute, they opted
for the benefits from advertising.

The O’Byrnes have moved their
operation and are now shopping
a Dan O’Mahony’s riverside store.

I met them there yesterday.
Nick Strong Dec 2019
Talk to me, talk to me of Old St. Nick
Talk to me of Sinterclaus
Of Mikulas, Pere Noel, or Babbo Natale

Talk to me of candles, christingle and a silent night
Talk to me of crackers, carols and calamities
Talk to me of snow, sleighs, and stars
Talk to me of Christmas cards, wrapping paper
Talk to me of gold, old spice and mice
Talk to me of icing, icicles
igloos, ivy
Holly
Oh sweet Hollie
Tots of Drambuie
Marmalade and toast

Talk to me of Philip Scholfield
Carols From Kings
Mary Poppins
Scrooge
Festive films
Radio Times
And things that are too pretty
Lights, nights
Hark, Dark
barking dogs
tinsel
Tinsel Town
Wolves at the door
Salvation Army playing once more

Talk to me
Talk to me
Cream Crackers, cheese
Frosty mornings, old knees

Talk to me of snow covered alpine forests
Gateaux
Cherries
walnuts and berries
Festive fun,
A seasonal run
Of All Gold telly
With a full belly
Farts, sprouts
Turkey that tastes just like chicken
Oh talk to me of
Terry Wogan
Rosh Jogan
Grogan Josh
Last minute deals
Black Friday
White Friday
And all the Cyber Mondays

Talk to me of
Happy Mondays
Dancing Bez
In a Festive Fez

Talk to me
Talk to me
Of Festive time
Late nights
Early mornings
Beer
Cheer
All in entertainment

Oh talk, TALK to me
Of hangovers,
sleep overs
gloves
mittens
and cute kittens

Oh talk to me of
fake Chanel
Faux Fur and underwear
Celvin Klein

Talk to me , Talk to me of
Jonah Lewie
Bony M
The Pogues
and all those rogues
Fairy tale of New York
Stop the Cavalry
Mary's Boy Child
And the
Spaceman who came riding by

Oh talk, Talk , Talk to me
of places, and spaces We all know
Christmas markets
Tesco, Aldi and John Lewis Adverts showing
Christmas is coming
Christmas is coming
Christmas is coming
Chris
Oh talk to me
Oh talk to me of old St. Nick

Talk to me
Talk to me
Eggnog
Talk to me
Talk to me
Bah humbug
Talk to me
Talk to me
Happy Christmas
Read aloud at speed. Enjoy!
the landing has an unpleasant smell,
started the day before yesterday, warm weather.

air freshener spent, we use cheap perfume
from aldi. is my house not clean ? remember
this smell of old. some wee creatured done died
in the loft, floor boards, some which place.

i have spent hours looking for the body, to take to
the church yard gently, spent time spraying
madame glamour, my daughter.

know with time, it will fade, pass as all
things.

I found last years birds nest yesterday,
twined with horse hair.

the field is empty now.

one swallow.

sbm.
Madeleine Toerne Oct 2015
The new education
building was beautiful
because it was reminiscent
of friends’ houses past.
Fond, albeit naive, memories
of stone suburbs and finished basements and iPod stereo systems playing easy listenin’
trite popular rock n’ roll music to the smell of toaster muffins,
some Pillsbury brand I can’t remember the name of and didn’t bother to then
because my mom or dad (for different reasons) couldn’t be persuaded to buy boxed, branded
items (usually, and until an Aldi came to town), and don’t bother to know now because
it’s probably better and cooler to not know.  

We fear what we think we know about what we actually don’t know.
I learned that recently and it is popping up everywhere.
Popping up like processed delicious memories out of new clean toasters.
Where are all the crumbs? Where is the crumb life?
I’ll ask that if I ever return.
There once was a statue of a short Italian chef with a mustache and a tray attached to his stone hand, for letters, I assumed, and if I ever go back I’ll also ask: is that for letters?

See the truth is that there was depth.
There was depth but what bothered me I mean really made me uncomfortable
was that it was hidden and wiped off the counter and swept up so to speak
with perhaps, someone else’s hands.
The depth wasn’t measured in wood chips and smelly black beautiful old independent dogs
or falling apart antique chairs or comprehensive but dusty cd collections, k.d. lang, Stevie Wonder, Jesus Christ Superstar soundtrack, or posters of hot chile peppers or piles of unsold rocks and bricks in the backyard that were also high standing posts for kids who were imaginary queens and kings and warriors, or tacky red spray painted bicycles.
Our depth was visible and pure and it seemed like everyone else’s was cleaned up and stored away.
It felt that way when I was young.
Now I value my family’s visible depth
and consciously remind myself that no matter how
fresh the paint smells or how not present a quirky old photograph is
it is somewhere, it is somewhere
****, it is somewhere
it is beautiful
to remind myself that.
Guadalupe Meza Jan 2022
Another year has flown by and sometimes
Life brings us the worst storms but
Don’t ever feel that your time was wasted for
I can assure you that you have touched many,

Because life is like a sentence,
Each new beginning has a purpose.
brandon nagley Jun 2015
Walking in the grocery aisle today
A shan't little place called ( aldi's)
Cheaper food I must say

I saw a man
An older man
Maby seventies or so
Well whatever age

This man I could tell
Could tell the wildest stories
As in his time
Maby he fought in a hellish hideous war

Maby world war two
Maby Korean war
Maby no war at all

The sleeves on his button up shirt said to me quietly
They whispered
MARINE!!!!!!

As I didint know why his sleeves were rolled up
Maby because he was just hot
I mean
The sun is blazing today like hell at night
Well anyways
Back to storytime
This man's harsh look told me
He hast seen a world of things
Us younger ones couldn't fathom or want to

I thought his sleeves rolled up showed he was a man
Who didint give two craps on what others had thought of him
And for that grocery shopping cool man
Kodos to thou dear sir
Kodos to thou!!!
here at Highland Manor Apartments
earlier today Juneteenth 2022,
(a pitch perfect spring day)
with serious intent to read
seat of the pants suspense thriller
The New Comprehensive
A-Z Crossword Dictionary.

Invariably, yours truly
quickly experienced drowsiness,
succumbed to deep sleep
and dreamt being linkedin
with livingsocially off the grid
among ecological, liberal, social minded
people progressive in act, deed, and thought
versus participating in consumerist paradigm.

As a conscious conscientious counterpart
the missus shops with a conscience
and yours truly considers her price savvy
when she purchases groceries
at ALDI, Giant, LIDL, or other supermarket.

Impossible mission to adopt modus operandi,
whereby wife would entertain notion to husband
energy garnering fruits and vegetables
courtesy sweat equity
since we lack basic homesteading skills,
nor consider either of us
adequately financially solvent
to contact compatible intentional community
since requisite criteria
require a healthy monetary stash of money.

Unlikely substantial windfall
will appear out of the blue,
nor grandiose wish to draw winning lottery ticket,
thus sobering truth to burnish marketable skills
finds me seek assistance
courtesy office of
vocational rehabilitation in general
and counselor Donna Marchese in particular,
which most likely entails
securing training to learn
Microsoft Office Applications.

More precisely, some familiarity exists
regarding understanding computer software
since admission of foolhardiness
now averred how countless golden opportunities
slipped thru these ofttimes sweaty fingers.

Though never successfully completed,
received funding back in the day from:
CETA, O(ffice) of V(ocational) R(ehabilitation)
twice before whereby
the former and/or latter program
allocated unspecified dollars
(poor Ray McNeil, the first OVR counselor,
whose tiresome love's labour's lost for naught)
in an effort to acquire gainful employment,
which in all honesty sabotaged
cause of that bugaboo severe social anxiety
more specifically diagnosed
as schizoid personality disorder;
no shame to admit mental health crisis.
Good things



You see Christmas is good, yeah the kids love it oh yeah

Getting presents of all shapes and sizes

And Easter is the time where you get hot cross buns and Easter eggs

Yeah, they are very nice

You see as you go to the footy, you get loads of good things as souvenirs

Like blow up balloons and little cards on who sponsors this event

And when you go to the shopping centre there are loads of good shops yeah

Like the taco bar and the aldi store and the fish and chip shop as well

There is a great donut shop, where there are loads of good things to eat

Like long johns with jam and cream and flavoured and cinnamon donuts, take your pick

Loads of good things to eat

You see the coffee shop has a range of nice treats

Yeah the treats are as tasty, oh yeah

You see they have vanilla slices and passion fruit slices

Yeah there are more, too much to mention

You see, the only problem is, which one to choose

Yeah, which one could attract our attention

There are loads of good things around you see

Good for you and good for me

Like the fine young cannibals sang the good thing back in the '80s ya know

And you here Santa going ** ** **

And mother says to the kids no no no

Because, they are only good things for 2 days,a problem to the parents pay


Sent from my iPhone
we met in aldi quite by chance, leaning slightly away

from the cold of the freezer cabinets.the pizza area.



i asked about bill,she said he was fine,and working.



i told her of the pain and she sympathised.



we talked about breathing and having babies.



it was quite a nice autumnal day.



sbm.
MateuĆĄ Conrad Jul 2017
i have no heart to speak of,
only a stone's worth
of what you consider
yours to be soft,
pouch-like
     stumbling upon ovaries
and that, which
becomes an incubating
wound to your former
freedoms;
        a heart that's a stone
that's simply thrown
into an abyss,
   with, or without you to
catch it,
     my heart isn't a crucifix,
it's the temptation
in the desert,
          that it might turn
to bread, and feed you with
its softening,
  for care, concern,
for those alienating things
  bound to reveal
the semi-detached home of
  2+ people...
  my heart isn't a soft pouch
of kangaroo flesh...
and it isn't a bribe of reminding
you to abide by the umbra crux
set alight...
               if my heart as stone
cannot be turned into bread...
          to appropriate a life of
a worth of family...
   what could ever reason people
to think that a wooden cup,
or a wooden object of torture,
   turn into either marble or into
gold?
              if his heart,
the carpenter's ore of wood,
managed to achieve the alchemic
secret of being turned into
marble and into gold...
how can my stone heart,
turn into flesh?
             did he raise a family?
did he? did he?!
                    don't expect me to
climb down from my throne,
that's uluru....
         this heart, once as mighty
and majestic as a mountain,
shrunk to a pebble,
   and then into a grain of sand...
and?
   each day seems eternal...
              endless, uncomfortable
to make awake in the middle;
what's the most beautiful thing
about english summers?
esp. after a thunderstorm?
or there-lack-of?
      summers are only worth
glorification and prayer-like
gesticulations in the lunacy
of gratifying the coolness of air...
summer's evenings;
oh, and that 79 pence cider
bought at aldi...
      ******* tasted so good
i almost choked on my saliva
while walking... name?
       orchard irish cider...
     one word on this day where
i sweated out a marathon preparing
dinner:               mercy.
Aha - argh... oh my dog...
don't mind me muttering, eh?

Earlier today (May 5th, 2020),
I forget thee exact hour
found me utterly beside mice elf,
matter of fact even at this moment,
yours truly doth feel mad at himself
cuz Aldi's merchandise (mostly food)
needed to be restored to their proper shelf.

Upon further contemplation
me thought quite futile
and pointless to expend energy subsequently nill...
best swallow figurative bitter pill
and maximize opportunity to take quill

in an effort to salvage sanity lest poetaster
schrieks with voice noticeably shrill,
thus if curious to discover visa vis
motive poem got crafted read further if ye will.

Electronic Benefits Transfer (EBT) card, i.e.
formerly known as food stamps
I never secured into wallet for safe keeping,
mine minor ohm my dog oversight surged thru me
(as if charged with a bajillion amps),

said aforementioned revelation occurred
while standing in a long line at Aldi's
attested whereby other patrons stood
pipsqueaks in tandem with their gramps
which snaked all the way to "5th and Japip."

Pointless regarding yours truly,
ordinarily insightful and adept
(in short, a generic and garden variety
local ******) who schlepped
courtesy rubber express
(think shoe leather) - except
sneakers adorned little (mine) feet
thus imagine hypothetical inept

hobo or ***** his bindle
slung over shoulder
traversing countless miles,
cuz an odometer he (I) kept
indicated staggering and sprawling distance,
sometimes on all fours (faux pas) he crept
hence no way would exhausting effort
be made for nought.

Riches to rags summarizes bio in short
former spendthrift and prodigal son
with lip service paid toward quaffing port,
whence reduced to penury, a courtship wasted
mein kampf of pennilessness insync with sport
despite feted happy occasion,
I discreetly did cavort
unbridled shenanigans bedding young nymphs

entailed minimal effort,
when lavish catered affair slated to celebrate
one lovely slip of a lass,
she (no rookie) beguiled
stealthily intended marriage to abort,
nonetheless gaining handsome dowery
with quintessential private escort.

We both acquired deserved comeuppance
therefore allowing, enabling and providing
me opportunity to attend contra dance
by going stag
wowed by gamut of coeds

moost who with subtle nonverbal cues did entrance
oft times imagining traipsing across France
courtesans attending every private need
ah... so much for castles in the sky
invisibly concocted via
strong swooshing dominant arm with lance.

In reality scratching out what began as prime
motive to detail forgetting ebt card
intending poem to communicate
spending more',n dime
times one hundred

hemorrhaging checking account
as momentary lapse of reason with rhyme
as often occurs time and again
poem takes fabulous convolutions
squeezed like figurative lemon going from
ridiculous to the sublime.
violetstarlights May 2019
need not worry,
microscopic one.

for that in the end,

you are like a pineapple.

before, people rented you out
as table centerpieces for parties

but now, you are 98Âą
at the local Aldi's
i put this in her card for mother's day and lets just say i only have ONE red hand-shaped mark on my face
Whit dat tight till - say
yes, aye wool thank ewe
mooch at least for today
hoof fully (this Joe kerr)
can easily bide his time weigh
beef **** rammy cows come home.

Meantime India interim
lemme clover - reaching
far out on dam moost precarious limb,
bot do nut inspect me tub bark prim
and proper, nor procrastinate for tim
marrow, cause spontaneous whim

will lose heft, no matter how inane
poetic palaver could by then
elude ding me noggin to explain
nebulous jibber jabber hokey folderol
even confusing to a Great Dane

a dog (of course)
man's/woman's beast friend,
not hounding visa vis discovering
you improperly verb (bait him)
bone a fied with noun (sense)

barking up wrong tree
dangling modifier as gerund
faux paws and inquisitive,
nonetheless countenance do lend
sincere cachet gnome hatter compared

to average superficial **** sapien
said former doggone creature just thru
****** expression can mend
"broken" heart and soul,
which rhyming tangent did send

yours truly off scent, asper initial trend
actually truth be told, no paw tickle har
matter, I sought to sink teeth into,
but let babbling stream of consciousness wend,

where petty full extemporaneous tooting
oh my didgeridoo, which initially scares
the dickens out gills of hooting
blowfish until they recognize

this bloke juiced pooting
air thru a long wooden tube, be yule
then their piousness piqued to pisces,
gather together as if attending school
always mindful to follow

the goldenfish rule
i.e. aldi tom not erring,
floundering, and getting
tricked, royally suckered, and

hooked becoming gruel
resulting within tummy higher
up the feeding chain,
survival of dragnets cruel.

fission expedition for
salmon to hope fillet
enjoys almost done hook,
line and sinker - hooray,
sans to steal mental energy,
and precious time may

king another reason to be
persnickety and every ray
zen to be guarded, when
wading in cyber seas tay
king precautions, once
I return from Uruguay.
Ryan O'Leary Nov 2018
We have gone from a
famine to being a nation
of obeseness.

That's the American
influence for you, have
a twice day and all that.

It is so difficult not to
get what you don't want
in Ireland.

A cup of tea will be fine, no
sugar and I've just eaten, tea
and milk that's all, I'm grand.

"Ah: sure I've just been to Aldi's
got lovely cup cakes and fig rolls
on special, be trying them, won't you".
MateuĆĄ Conrad Aug 2018
yesterday was such a bad day for writing...
but only today, did i figure it out...
drinking and listening
to political commentary videos?

bad idea...

        you either drink, self-DJ...
        bug the bopping along on a windowsill
sitting on one of your folded legs,
massaging your **** with your heel...
or you listen to, hell...
as Sartre put it, namely other people...

thank god writing has an in-built
censorship bot included -
  which is more effective than for those
people who make videos...
   hardly any click-bait,
   a censorship that is by sly invitation,
and after having joined
Facebook, when it started in its university
innocence?
   and then seeing adverts pop up?

hell... Facebook is one company...
on the other side of the extreme are
the supermarket chains, German,
Lidl and Aldi...

   this is how advertisement works -
(a) you employ it,
  when either your company is failing
or
   (b) when it's branching out...
growing, on the positive note...

i can actually understand (b) -
a healthy advertisement mode -
but (a)? sick to the core.

     so... yesterday was a bad day for writing,
i've heard too much...
   too much commentary,
i succumbed to a quasi writer's bloc larynx
numbing...
   although i still haven't said anything
within the confines of my outer-urban
"prison cell"...

       hell, have a garden...
sometimes a kestrel swoops and sits on
the fence... the glorious crane...
and come mid-autumn,
   a squadron of migrating Canadian geese...

too much talk, which is always bad
for poetry, however prosaic,
and, anti-schooling in recognizable insertions
of autosuggestion "demands"
for, metaphors and the like...

            too much blah blah...
       worries about censorship...
that got me...
    
   only a few days i doxed myself -
       i already gave the information
to henry westons cider company...
              
em... i used to collect swords?
the first sword i ever bought was a hussar's
lance sword, roughly 1.5m long...
          might as well fetch it from
the attic, and hang in on my wall,
just in case an angry mob comes to my house...

vanity... ha ha...
   no... i already have genuine problems
with my neighbor...
  the problem will bug me for some time...
how can he tell me,
what i can and can't do on my property,
within the confines of sensibility?!
  i howled in the night once,
like a wolf...
    but did he bother to listen to the sound
foxes make at night?
      wolves are nothing by comparison...
you really have to hear
a fox at night...
   to get the picture...

       as the saying goes:
   it's always the darkest under the street lamp...
if i'm having problems with
my "neighbor"...
why do i need to worry about
someone on the other side of the world?

hell... Americans can have their guns...
i have a stash of about a dozen swords...
my favorite?
   a replica...
  bought in Camden Town...
                of a Russian shashka...
b'ah! kitchen knives are for the kitchen...
but there's someone pesky at
your door...
     i guess i'll simply have to bring
the shashka out...
   sharpen it,
    hang it on my wall among the art work...
and?

                                            wait.
Anne Curtin Apr 2020
Start where you are. Hike your own journey, being careful
of rocks in the road. Use your inside voice. Remember
everyone has a story needing to be heard. Look for the tall
people in ALDI - they can reach the string cheese on the top shelf.
A repeated mistake is a decision. Every day, breathe outside air.
Read: street signs, back-of-the-box instructions, your housemates'
faces. If you can't be kind, be quiet.
Syd Mar 2023
Sunblest Aldi bread
Defrosted from the freezer
An open sea coal fire
With a Northen Echo bleaser

Through the tinfoil tops of milk
Spuggys pecked their feral beaks
The wild cold wind gnawed
At our frozen beetroot cheeks

Wood chip then dado rails
Adorned our thin walls
Breathing second hand smoke
Brought hardly any side effects at all

Sticky summers, hayfever
Long grass and pollen
Childhoods are long gone....
But still not forgotten

How subtle things have changed
Recession, strikes, austerity
We can almost afford council houses
That fit around our TV's

Proud to have memories
And proud of our people's sovereignty
Proud of our upbringing
Proud of our poverty!
At 4:03 PM on November first
two thousand and twenty,
the missus nsync with yours truly,
(an inimitable average Joe - cur -
biden his time at Royersford, Pennsylvania

LIDL food market)
unexpectedly witnessed cashier
manning checkout aisle number two
to experience technological glitch,
which checkout person patiently,
thru various and sundry attempts

tried to nab ghost in the machine
invariably found register
to display DECLINE
despite one after another
dogged trial and error
deliberately entering $25.79,

the balance remaining
after ALDI purchases rung up today
at 15:27 (military time),
said unnamed cashier
tried his darnedest
to troubleshoot snafu,

while yours truly nonchalantly reports
my superhuman xray vision,
easily observed undetected
immense cerebral activity
silently and soundlessly

appraising amazing faculty
boring him with mine
invisible telescopic quasi proboscis
vicariously discerning himself
he finally managed
to surmount (figuratively)

mind boggling daunting challenge
applying cumulative technical acumen
at long gave last mental
herculean heave **
to resolve quandary
(after much time elapsed)

subsequently I made mental note
to notify management
first thing in the morning
designating said individual
as (at the least) employee of week award.
Jackson Steel Feb 2022
Doors
Doors
Doors
What if ******
.
Everything was a door. David is a door, Kalo is a door, I’m a door, the weather is a door, Aldi’s 75p pizza is a door. And what if all those doors are open all at the same time or, better yet, if you had no control over which doors are open or slammed shut at any given moment.
Your mind is just one big hectic corridor with spooky Escherian architecture and being creative is like playing a straining game of Twister down this twisty bit of brain fiber.
You can’t explore in one room for too long because another interesting door is flung open that you simply must enter. Moments pass and when you poke your head through the second door the prior one is already closed tight.
What if relationships were doors? Some of the rooms look very appealing but they're too big, too vast and too mysterious. You can’t wander through these rooms very far or the lights may go out and you lose your way or maybe the doors slam shut behind you and you can’t get out of the locked and lightless room.
What if you could manipulate the rooms in this corridor of madness? If two doors are so close to each other why not make a merger of equals? Collapse the **** thing in on itself and have each of them make way for the same large room. What if two rooms look remarkably similar but are too far apart in distance? Or right next to each other in distance but polar opposites in content? Who’s going to organize this place and how do you alphabetize every aspect of everything?
How do you make sure you don’t accidentally eat your own foot?
LJW Jan 2023
Baltimore will change you. Seen through the eyes, ears, and hearts of Black American, your liberal effort will be read as a white occupation.

It doesn't matter your intentions, if you've meditated on it all year long, if you yell at a black face, you have cast the whip.

You're not allowed to have emotions, you have to subservient yourself to the trauma of your students, your fellow teachers, the parents walking on the street. Your trauma no longer matters. It is not the same. It might not even be exist. Or rather, you're over 50, haven't you processed that **** yet?

Oh, Baltimore will change you. When you came here you wanted to help, you wanted to solve the problem of racism, of less than equal, you wanted to uplift like MLK and make real the sentiments of your 60s parents. Then you met the attitude, the snares as you walked through the Aldi on Orleans Street, the ostracization of your Black colleagues, the Black clicks, the Black power, and the side glances and suspicion waiting for you to be racist and oppressive. The questioning eyes looking at your old white face and grey hair, expecting you to control or belittle the Black man, woman, and child. Why did you come here to teach our children? What do you want with our children?

You face the slow walk of the Black man and woman. Why are they moving so slowly? Don't they know I am in a hurry? Are they doing that on purpose because of the years of white control and oppression? Are they punishing me for all the sins of the Whites? Or is it because that person is big, slow in pace because of the sheer weight they have to carry? Is that racist to think that? Does the butcher move slow at the meat counter because he wants to make me wait? Why am I even thinking this? I never thought this before! Baltimore is changing me.

You face the fast driving and the motocross culture of danger, noise, and recklessness. You meet the street fights our your front door, parents surrounding their children, cheering them on to kick the other 15year old's ***.  You get called a white ***** time and time again simply because you speak your mind. Or...did I do something wrong?  WAS I oppressive? I just wanted to....how can I even breath here? I might do it in a way that hurts the Black community. Why are they that fragile? Are they that fragile?

Baltimore will make you ask, where should I stand as the Black community moves into it's place? It will make you ask, "Why am I defending the white man? Why do I feel a need to play devil's advocate?" But why do I need to feel obliged to step aside for the Black? Isn't that the sentiment I have felt all my life? Move over for the Black. White people have had the lead for too long. Move out of the way for Black people, let them get ahead. Let them get ahead?  Like I hold the keys to the door? We were told (by MLK) that the dream was for us to play side by side, hold hands, walk up or down the mountain together. That is so hard. For both sides. Why are there sides?
The spouse betook monthly outing
today May 4th, 2022
to 3938B Ridge Pike,
Collegeville, Pennsylvania 19426.

No more bare cupboards,
fridge, and deep freezer
since returning with more than
our share of daily bread,
plus other sundry provisions
referring to this mister, who
frightfully squawks like an old geezer,
ruler of roost,
plus the missus – ole hen pecker
nevertheless, neither of us
ain't no spring chicken

being locked within crosshairs
constituting elderly stage,
she doth dread
feeling like a charity case
swallows her pride,
cuz ample carload for us,
alleviating this *** searching
for crumbs to tweezer,
thus  raw bits of powdermilk biscuits,
I need not scavenge, scrape, scrounge...
substantial commestibles

allows poet taster to breathe easy
inadequately satiates the missus,
(whose Godzilla appetite) defies
(cole) laws of nature to beef fed
predominantly healthy food,
that weighted our automobile like a led
zeppelin choking, intermittently
kickstarting, sputtering... along,
asper in (faux wheel) drive wheezer
putting utmost pressure
borne by taxing groovy tire tread.

Once mission (not so impossible,
but blessed relief) complete, I did aim
upon returning where we live
to acknowledge gratitude and claim
salvation for charitable deeds,
yours truly doth exclaim,
these volunteers, none I know by name,
nonetheless, a hearty poetic L'Chaim
afforded folks, who commandeer,
confidently coordinate quite efficient process

despite minor lament regarding
heavy toll stressing bulwark
quaking chassis, ripsnorting driveshaft,
shimmying entire automobile frame...,
hence no matter
our exhausted 2009 Hyundai Sonata
puttered along somewhat lame,
kudos to dedicated good samaritans,
worth their weight in gold to tame
hungrily growling, noisily rumbling tummies.

Healthy choices allow, enabled,
and provided us to secure provender
eases glum countenance of this clown
gratuity finds me bowing down
paying metrical obeisance
versus depleting meager monies
engendering botox frown
nipping in bud
forestalling need going
to preferred market such as
Aldi, LIDL, Redner's, Target
or Trader Joe's grocery shopping
to the nearest town.
Rudolph fell off the wagon
Santa is trying to hold on
this is not the past or the future
this is now and Christmas has gone

Aldi has sold out of egg nog
the yuletide log has been put on the fire
the autumn statement has been read to the public,
I fear that things are looking quite dire.

the turkey was scoffed for Thanksgiving
the cupboard is open and bare
Rudolph has the right idea
just get ****** and you won't even care.
If you ever espy a latitudinally
and longitudinally challenged
older yet shopping savvy woman,
(wedded to yours truly
for almost twenty six years),
who stands approximately
four feet and ten inches
a strong hunch that gal
stacks up as mine missus,
she dons costumed headwear
to avoid station identification,

whenever she steps out
into the public limelight
anywhere outside these four walls
of our one bedroom apartment
here within bucolic Schwenksville,
the town that town forgot,
and the decades could not improve,
where all the women good looking,
the men strong, and the children
wise to the ways of technology.

When this logophile
quite a few pounds lighter
ever since I first became acquainted
with unnamed aforementioned woman,
she adopted predilection to don apparel
allowing, enabling, and providing
modus operandi to present herself incognito.

Ofttimes said spouse of mine
upon returning from
grocery shopping spree
(ever price conscious of various
and sundry commestibles -
with a knick knack paddy whack
give this doggone husband
a plant based NON GMO bone),
she can rattle off the prices
of targeted items on her mental rolodex
how much food cost at:
ALDI, GIANT, LIDL, WEGMANS...

While scurrying to and fro
hither and yon,
a stranger might unexpectedly
pay a compliment to iterated getup,
which bobbin noggin makes her
easy to identify, when yours truly
tags along, (but despite
being considerably taller
by almost twelve inches),
these spindleshanks of one
sentient, ship shaped,
shanghaied, salubrious,

slithering, snakish, stuttering,
sluggish, smashface scarred,
sober, solitary, sangfroid
skidamarink singing, Shamokin
speaking scrivener, scuzzy,
spunky, starved, submissively
suicidal, sunburned, senseless
salaried shuffling senescent
snoutish soundcloud shutterflying
snapchatting schnorrer
find impossible mission
to keep pace with the wife.

— The End —