"thrifting" poems
Ah, the season of gifting.
Antagonist of year-long thrifting.
Tradition sadistic,
Materialistic,
Four quarters in pockets worth sifting.
This year I hereby proclaim
I shan’t be consumed by the game.
Cycle of curse
Purpose perverse
The namesake, an oversight became.
Christ’s birth did in fact begin,
Holiday distracted by sin.
Misguided it be
To forget idly
The sacrifice He made for all men.
We naively regard generosity
As holiday’s behavioral piosity.
But if dollars and cents
Are the tools of offense
Over shadow favor luminosity.
Water in Africa is *****
American child in poverty.
Politics aside,
Convenient homicide,
To enable the ills of society.
In the global economy we flaunt
Wealth by comparison, bitter taunt.
First world problems abound
Pass the turkey around
Central heating and air, what a jaunt!
What if this season we decide
To extend two palms open wide?
Sacrificing ourselves
Rather than stocking our shelves
Dying whispers echo true: “we tried.”
Don’t spend your money on me this year.
Not iPhones, not tickets, not Blu-ray or beer.
Instead know you can
Distribute more than
A snort, a lie, and a tear.
(optional conclusion to assist interpretation of last line)
Snort of derision,
Lies of provision,
Tears, even true,
Hardly subdue
Anguish deprived of tradition’s revision.
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 5:25 PM UTC
i dreamt you could love me again,
that you had a big studio apartment in the city
and you bought her lots of gifts,
made her go thrifting with you
to buy strange clothes,
but she knew you loved someone else,
she knew you missed me
and that you would always be mine,
and although i woke up
and not a bit of it was true
(because i know you love her
and that you don’t think about me)
it was still nice to live in a world
where your heart had not
forgotten my name.
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 5:15 PM UTC
Un-Thrifting Essence, what of Loneliness
Allows the Hill across to bend and weep?
Who is to blame? Are you the Sorceress
Drawn to cast an Un-Witting Spell so deep?
These are all but Questions; If I may add
Failed on Writ, yet convenient to Subject
Here is the Adjective I thought I had
But the Spell did lie thus made to reject
My Immortal Covenant: To Keep you,
Dearest Talent; A Servant's Dud I make
Within a shadow shines a Brighter Hue,
A Promise I no longer will Forsake:
Though in Essence always revealed un-been
I am that Shadow never revealed un-seen.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 5:20 AM UTC
The new Genre Tourist Punk
is sailing the nation.
Hawaiian shirts and white keds are lining up all around Orlando to see
up and thrifting bands like
Lobster trap,
Lighthouse tour and
Dogs welcome.
Founded in a Starbucks
by Toni and Dash,
two MECA grads one student loan away from selling out and getting involved in
the lighthouse painting business,
The Band: Lobster Trap
gave birth to a whole new genre.
TOURIST PUNK
Toni and Dash decided they needed to provide music that was expensive. niche.
Something unspeakably mundane.
With smash hits like
"This traffic is ********
And "My name still isn't Joe".
Lobster Trap is flying
up the American top 40
faster than you can say socks and sandals
Sales of "I HEART LOCATION" merch has skyrocketed with every launched tour.
Crowds of L.L. bean boots and visors are Moshing, breaking poloroid cameras over each others heads in a salmon rage.
old school punk fanatics were skeptical at middle aged middle class suits getting into their scene.
until it hit them that they could now throw punches
at every pedestrian who ever cut them off.
"Hi thirsty, I'm Dad." By Land of the Polite
Has been played more times in the last year then any taylor swift song.
Money once invested in college-bound middle class vacationlander spawn is being wisely spend on bands like "discount Polo",
and "Local Diner"
So listeners.
if you spend an obscene amount of money on travel fair, and over priced, cheaply made souvenirs;
Or Work in customer service thriving to see those leaf peepers choked out by their own ***** packs.
Do yourself a favor.
road trip into your local bullmoose
sporting your states name on your chest.
And Treat yourself to an exclusive new album
of TOURIST PUNK.
Sep 21, 2016
Sep 21, 2016 at 4:16 AM UTC
Your Wreath, Un-Thrifting Essence, bears his Name
And Fine be your Acts soothe such Heavy Hand
Which Time boost as his Protector and Sage
Skimming the Dirt infect his Rising Sand
Though one would Wonder why such Blogger speak
Of Secrets known must bequeath to the Few
Though in your Boy's Best Fate subdue the Meek
Out of Best Concern his Wild Growth does stew
So persistent be our same Wonder at
Those Keys deserved should never be Endorsed
For his own Respect; As ours Mature that
Let the Gentleman go if his Plays be Forced.
My Loyalty, still, Un-Conditioned will be
Though Swords still stab on such Smile you Reprieve.
Jul 1, 2013
Jul 1, 2013 at 2:56 AM UTC
Somewhere between coffee and stupid talks
And infinite random city tours & walks.
The movie marathons and midday naps
Exquisite food and memories gift wrapped.
G-talk sessions and plane tickets to anywhere with you along
While in the journey, discovering our new favorite song.
Imaginary burn books and death glares,
Silent sentences spoken through stares.
Late night calls and whispers in the dark,
Threatening any guy who dares to break our heart.
Never judging each other and reading one’s mind
My love for ***** and your love for Wine.
“I am undateable” to “Open Up” monologues.
Putting up with the drama of all the loves lost.
Making pop culture references and finding it normal.
I don’t remember the last time we were ever formal.
Of making our fool in front of the ‘classy’ audience
And continuing doing that with elan and confidence.
Our love for wanderlust. Places far and bizarre.
To spend thrifting and getting broke in a hep bazaar.
Overeating and then cribbing about our weight.
To consoling ourselves that “him” is worth the wait.
Of nagging parents and relatives that crib.
Of closing our eyes and letting things slip.
Quick fights and quicker reconciliation.
Sharing deep secrets & deeper confessions.
It is between being mistaken for Lesbians
And being mistaken for Sisters.
Our ballad is a roller coaster ride that only goes up
Our ballad is all these things & more, ready to erupt.
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 3:15 AM UTC
with someone to have a good time.
Romanticize simplicity with yourself
Go to the grocery store
Get some coffee
Go to a view
Find a new place you've never been
Buy art supplies
Get lunch
Find a recipe
Go thrifting
Hang out at a park
Watch a movie
Read a book
Smoke
Listen to music
Go somewhere you haven't in awhile
Feel the energy in a metaphysical shop
Doodle on something random
Wake up early
Make a charcuterie board
Light a candle
Affirmations.
You attract what you put forward to the universe.
Jan 5, 2021
Jan 5, 2021 at 12:20 AM UTC
i don't feel very
whole these days
that specific sticky
dusty feeling all over
my palms neck tilted
sideways running the
tips of my fingers down
rows of plastic cases
"oh are you over
there looking at
music again?" you
sigh but it's not
the kind of reproach
i need to defend
myself against because
you know i always do it
and i don't think you
really mind how long
i take because once in
awhile i'll find one that
you like or that i'm so
excited over you can't complain
and then we wander
through rows of
scratched dressers
winding our way
around old doors and
molding strips that had
a better life once
chairs and desks
dinette sets and hutches
a little bit of this
a little bit of that
a little bit of something special
laughing over
strange items
ugly clothing
even art pieces
and for an hour or
two i can feel the
stuffy secondhand air
between us clear
we usually don't
buy anything or if
we do it's not much
because neither of us
happen to have very
much extra cash
but once in awhile we'll
find a fifty cent mug
potato coasters
a solid wood end table
or a nice cd rack
a piece of someone else's past
and i'll load the
furniture into
the van if you let
me keep the change
i like thrifting
because looking at
items with unknown
history puts the
present into
perspective
gives us a reason
to go out something
to laugh about over
the dinner table
to agree about how
nice that cabinet is
or to disagree about
how ugly wicker is
instead of what
the other is feeling
because everything
is subjective whether
it's trash or treasure whether
it's mine or the next person's
and i don't feel very
whole these days
but on the other hand
i'm not yet in
the attic of the salvage
shop on the corner
and neither is
our relationship
Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 11:46 PM UTC
Why is coeds so. Good at poem sew you ask?
Ha
What a stupid one you are guy
Ime thw voice of the nation, you know that's true. But thing is ya know I'm grea, do you filled
Have you Ben stein watch going on Henry'
Whom thrifting is unmatched laddie
I dell,chomp you know thei is ri
Atiocorrdt doesn't exactly ymwor doff name beaut I like is all the maybe
Hohe man I'm phony bad I'm goooîd
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 4:53 PM UTC
Thrifting through men
Nothing unique
Pathetic ***** want ***
Dec 1, 2011
Dec 1, 2011 at 9:38 PM UTC
Nights spent pulling away pieces of my skin remind me of trimming fabric from unwanted articals of clothing
My exterior does not define me
But I despise what's underneath
Maybe if I peel back far enough
And glare at the bare contents of my being
I'll see something worth saving
Thrifting, and scrapbooking my flaws
I do not enjoy this
I do not want to be this
These torn up jeans
This torn up soul
So I scratch off the scabs from every wound
Reopening my problems, exposing them to my ever changing mind
This scar stings my eyes the way the sun used to when I was a child
This scar has been there since I was a child
I believe that thought is called an epiphany
But I never wanted to realize these things about myself
So I throw them out
Leaving me hollow
Maybe something or someone can fill the cavity I myself carved from my chest
Maybe nothing and no one ever will
It's hard to tell
I feel nothing
I am nothing
Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 4:03 AM UTC
Look to blue stained greys
Raise your eyes and see
A teetering balance
Between drops of rain
And clear, happy skies
Look between the clouds
See past reflections
And tricks of light
Beyond our skies
And to the stars
Hold your hand
Ground you close
As fears rise
Thrifting your own
Stifle cries
There are worlds
Beyond what you see
More than you can allow
I can't give you dreams
But show you the way
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 6:00 AM UTC
You deserved so much more than what you were given,
My love,
You deserve the smell of rain on concrete,
Of crying in a lover’s arms,
Hands through your hair,
Hugs from behind,
Swaying in an embrace as you make pasta,
Pj days and thrifting hauls,
And someone who will pick up your room and bring you cocoa when you can’t get out of bed.
My Darling,
You deserve the world,
And everything it has to offer.
Mar 28, 2022
Mar 28, 2022 at 4:08 PM UTC
It's the last night ill make love to you. Frank ocean's Godspeed will play, loud enough to drown out the countless failed efforts. We pushed our luck.Ill let go of my claim for you; its a free world. It cant even escape our lips that we didnt try. Ive been thrifting too long, I dont wanna have to always make something out of the old. I need that new new. And no one can say we didnt try. Ill make love to you and what other lips couldnt say these will say. Smoke something, with me you could always let the tears shed. We'LL dance with tears in our eyes and better love at our finger tips. Youll find better and ill stop thrifting find that new new, where I love you isnt an apology.
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 12:42 PM UTC
dissociating again.
once again.
but this should be a happy moment
at brusters ice cream.
you're so heckin cute.
you like thrifting too?
and to think..
i almost blew you off completely..
because online you seemed
just like an average guy.
but heck;
im an average girl
aren't i?
but we can't stop talking.
we giggle during what would be
awkward silences.
wow.
and Aquarius;
just the thought of you is..
dreamy..
well here i am,
kissing you goodbye,
outside ulta
at 12:30
May 25, 2020
May 25, 2020 at 6:42 PM UTC
A dress for every me
I couldn't be with you
Feb 8, 2020
Feb 8, 2020 at 10:44 AM UTC
Another night I'm wasting,
According to the billionaire news letter,
Bowling with CL and JR.
A sleek new bowler's cap,
A broken in pair of bowling shoes,
I found while thrifting.
JR made a joke,
"They look like Al Capone's lost shoes."
And I guess they do,
So whether I dress like an English bartender,
Or an Italian mob boss.
That's up to you to judge,
Because I'm wearing my new bowler's cap,
My all American pool shirt,
And Al Capone's lost shoes.
Jan 10, 2025
Jan 10, 2025 at 6:29 PM UTC
let's go to the markets
thrifting
star gazing
road tripping
wandering through forests
staying in motels
music festivals
travel to new towns
i long for those things
with you
Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 4:01 AM UTC