Obligatory Valentines Day Post
Note: I don’t condone pretty much anything I may allude to. If you take anything here seriously and hate me for it, well, sorry.
It’s another Valentines Day and another year where I find myself single. I didn’t really have much inspiration this year for writing Valentines Poems. I guess I’m getting older and losing that loving feeling, not only that but with the cold weather and aching joint it’s much harder lurking in garden hedgerows these days.
I have, in the past, poured my heart out with some of my hardest work to romance the socks (at the very least) off some of the most beautiful and sweetest smelling women I have ever known – including some who also knew me. For the highlights, have a look back in the archives to Valentines Day 2008, Have You Lost That Loving Feeling? and Of Work And Twoo Wuv.
The following poem reflects the changing world and how we embrace modern mediums to find romance:
You told me you were engaged,
that you were officially ‘on the hook’.
But that’s not the story I got,
Each time I refreshed your Facebook.So, we met up at that nightclub,
You thought I was just another ‘player’,
But I knew we’d have a great time,
After all you’re the Foursquare mayor.We’re finally back to my place,
My dreams finally being placated.
If only you’d come along willingly,
But I guess “It’s Complicated”
I’d have done this for Twitter too, but 140 character limits really get in the way.
You are an image of beauty,
a vision most sacred.
Please don’t unplug that webcam,
I hacked in to see you naked.
The next one is for the people who fantasize about being in one of those romantic medieval stories or ballads:
I wish that I was your ‘white knight’,
and you saw me as masculine and hunky.
As I picture you as my ‘princess’,
whilst I lay spankin’ the monkey.
What, too blunt? Jeez, fine, I’ll be more subtle:
I’d fight past fire-breathing dragons,
and wizards who drain all my health,
because when I think of you, Princess
I touch my elf…
You think this next one would work with a gift voucher included?
I imagine your kisses,
they taste just like honey;
You say you don’t love me,
but would you do me for money?
For those from Bridgwater or the Deep South:
This passion we feel,
fills me like no other.
Is this love so wrong,
just ’cause we’re sister and brother?
Oh well, there’s always next year!