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POEMS - ANTI-VALENTINE'S DAY CONTEST
- Thread starter poetinahat
- Start date
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1: Screw You, Valentine's Day!
Love hits you like a lightning bolt
and drives you quite insane,
It makes you do some crazy things
that might cause others pain.
Like stalking, scheming, driving off
as quickly as you can
In diapers just to stop someone
who also wants your man.
Indeed this day for Valentines
is dedicated to
This maddening emotion
that affects both me and you.
Those lovey-dovey platitudes
in card racks at the store
Are bought along with chocolates,
roses, lingerie and more.
And those receiving mushy cards
or flowers in a vase
Will wear at least a temporary
smile upon their face.
But anyone who’s all alone
or broke up with someone
Will not be smiling much that day
or having tons of fun.
So maybe there should be a day
that sets a certain mood
In honor of unhappy folks
who feel that they’ve been screwed.
We’ll pick a day in February,
call it “Love Sucks Day”
And celebrate it in
a very unromantic way.
Like hanging up a photo of
some bastard from your past
And using it as target practice,
aiming good...and fast!
For love can be a blessing,
but can also be a curse,
And Valentine’s Day just makes
lonely people feel much worse!
Love hits you like a lightning bolt
and drives you quite insane,
It makes you do some crazy things
that might cause others pain.
Like stalking, scheming, driving off
as quickly as you can
In diapers just to stop someone
who also wants your man.
Indeed this day for Valentines
is dedicated to
This maddening emotion
that affects both me and you.
Those lovey-dovey platitudes
in card racks at the store
Are bought along with chocolates,
roses, lingerie and more.
And those receiving mushy cards
or flowers in a vase
Will wear at least a temporary
smile upon their face.
But anyone who’s all alone
or broke up with someone
Will not be smiling much that day
or having tons of fun.
So maybe there should be a day
that sets a certain mood
In honor of unhappy folks
who feel that they’ve been screwed.
We’ll pick a day in February,
call it “Love Sucks Day”
And celebrate it in
a very unromantic way.
Like hanging up a photo of
some bastard from your past
And using it as target practice,
aiming good...and fast!
For love can be a blessing,
but can also be a curse,
And Valentine’s Day just makes
lonely people feel much worse!
- Joined
- Apr 12, 2005
- Messages
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- 10,453
2: Wanted
Free to good home.
One, slightly used heart.
Fair condition,
Only broken twice.
Somewhat tarnished
Small crack on side,
Easily repaired.
Tendency to melt in the presence of
Small animals and babies.
Can be worn as a sleeve accessory,
Or tucked away for that special someone.
Full potential unknown.
Free to good home.
One, slightly used heart.
Fair condition,
Only broken twice.
Somewhat tarnished
Small crack on side,
Easily repaired.
Tendency to melt in the presence of
Small animals and babies.
Can be worn as a sleeve accessory,
Or tucked away for that special someone.
Full potential unknown.
- Joined
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3: Gifting
I once was taught t’was
the thought that counts
so what if the earrings
aren’t real
The cubic zircs
still sparkle the light
that’s the way you make
me feel
And what about my
reciprocal gift?
the ink pen you got
for free
I don’t request much
in this one-way affair
just once you go down
on me
I once was taught t’was
the thought that counts
so what if the earrings
aren’t real
The cubic zircs
still sparkle the light
that’s the way you make
me feel
And what about my
reciprocal gift?
the ink pen you got
for free
I don’t request much
in this one-way affair
just once you go down
on me
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4: Jack Don't Know
Jack Daniels don't know pain
Jack Frost don't know cold
Jack-in-the-box don't know surprises
Or the bitterness V-Day holds
So here I stand by the liquor
Wantin' something to pour down my gullet
Jack Daniels don't know pain...
But he sure knows how to dull it.
Jack Daniels don't know pain
Jack Frost don't know cold
Jack-in-the-box don't know surprises
Or the bitterness V-Day holds
So here I stand by the liquor
Wantin' something to pour down my gullet
Jack Daniels don't know pain...
But he sure knows how to dull it.
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5: Untitled
I wake up to the tears in my coffee
Salty bitterness reluctant to leave my mouth
Reminding me of the acrid taste of love
and the wound to my heart remains
a memorial of failed past romances
I'll finish what's left of my morning coffee
and find refuge in the piquant pain of my
sorrowful past.
I wake up to the tears in my coffee
Salty bitterness reluctant to leave my mouth
Reminding me of the acrid taste of love
and the wound to my heart remains
a memorial of failed past romances
I'll finish what's left of my morning coffee
and find refuge in the piquant pain of my
sorrowful past.
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6: Finding the Whitman
he resigned to the dimlight indifference
she sent in her smile,
crackling
like the neglected paint of their time.
with one last look
he inhaled the smoke of her eyes
infused it with strength,
let that bile become him, nourish
his bittered heart,
let it course his veins,
and stood;
with arms spread - far as they would stretch
looking crucified,
hung by the hands she once held,
he exhaled a Whitman "YAWP"
that sprayed her name
into the quiet that followed.
he resigned to the dimlight indifference
she sent in her smile,
crackling
like the neglected paint of their time.
with one last look
he inhaled the smoke of her eyes
infused it with strength,
let that bile become him, nourish
his bittered heart,
let it course his veins,
and stood;
with arms spread - far as they would stretch
looking crucified,
hung by the hands she once held,
he exhaled a Whitman "YAWP"
that sprayed her name
into the quiet that followed.
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7: Shy
we dithered in the heather ere
the day was spent,
the sunlight withered in your hair
of fading gold,
we tidied up our picnic fare
most diligent,
and beseeched the world to end at night's threshold.
the selfish day we spent in love's
idle repose,
the generous moments thereof,
might dash upon
the jagged points of stars above,
our love transposed
reveal the need that moonlight spawns.
So we dithered in the heather
ere the day was
spent our passion on the weather
and buttered scones,
idle talk to be together,
shy looks because--
such days end, and such as we meet dawn alone.
we dithered in the heather ere
the day was spent,
the sunlight withered in your hair
of fading gold,
we tidied up our picnic fare
most diligent,
and beseeched the world to end at night's threshold.
the selfish day we spent in love's
idle repose,
the generous moments thereof,
might dash upon
the jagged points of stars above,
our love transposed
reveal the need that moonlight spawns.
So we dithered in the heather
ere the day was
spent our passion on the weather
and buttered scones,
idle talk to be together,
shy looks because--
such days end, and such as we meet dawn alone.
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8: The Oak and the Rose
He was an oak tree who knew nothing of roses;
She, a white bud, in a garden of light.
He was a lover who knew nothing of love;
She was love and knew nothing of loving.
And she followed him,
The path in shadow.
He touched her;
Never held her.
He left her;
Never for ever.
She held her breath, her dreams gasping,
Until gasping, she let go of her dreams.
Once,
She thought she heard him say,
"I love you,"
But silent he was,
And soon, she.
And damaged he was,
And soon, she.
Cold days,
Hot nights,
An oak who knew nothing of life,
A rose who knew nothing of seasons.
It's winter now,
And she is a deep, dark red,
In a garden where no trees block the sun.
No trees,
No trees,
Not a one.
He was an oak tree who knew nothing of roses;
She, a white bud, in a garden of light.
He was a lover who knew nothing of love;
She was love and knew nothing of loving.
And she followed him,
The path in shadow.
He touched her;
Never held her.
He left her;
Never for ever.
She held her breath, her dreams gasping,
Until gasping, she let go of her dreams.
Once,
She thought she heard him say,
"I love you,"
But silent he was,
And soon, she.
And damaged he was,
And soon, she.
Cold days,
Hot nights,
An oak who knew nothing of life,
A rose who knew nothing of seasons.
It's winter now,
And she is a deep, dark red,
In a garden where no trees block the sun.
No trees,
No trees,
Not a one.
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9: Another Girl (formerly Untitled)
A pretty face,
though I've forgotten name.
You're just another faded memory,
a pawn in my game.
You were a trusting soul.
You're so naive.
Think of all the sweet lies,
that I could make you believe.
You're new at this,
But I'll teach you fast:
how much it hurts;
how short love can last.
All it takes is a kind word or two:
to make you smile the way you do.
I'll keep pretending till I get my way;
it won't take long, cause you're easy to sway.
And all this time you'll never see:
your insignificance,
how little you mean to me.
And the masquerade continues still,
you're blind to my intentions as I weaken your will.
You're young and you just don't understand:
all the warnings, my hidden plan.
I'm a good actor and shes caught in my snare;
never realizing till it was too late, that I never did care.
And when my game comes to an end
she'll have nothing left,
but a broken heart to mend.
You were beautiful without a doubt,
but you'll always be just another girl,
that I can live without.
though I've forgotten name.
You're just another faded memory,
a pawn in my game.
You were a trusting soul.
You're so naive.
Think of all the sweet lies,
that I could make you believe.
You're new at this,
But I'll teach you fast:
how much it hurts;
how short love can last.
All it takes is a kind word or two:
to make you smile the way you do.
I'll keep pretending till I get my way;
it won't take long, cause you're easy to sway.
And all this time you'll never see:
your insignificance,
how little you mean to me.
And the masquerade continues still,
you're blind to my intentions as I weaken your will.
You're young and you just don't understand:
all the warnings, my hidden plan.
I'm a good actor and shes caught in my snare;
never realizing till it was too late, that I never did care.
And when my game comes to an end
she'll have nothing left,
but a broken heart to mend.
You were beautiful without a doubt,
but you'll always be just another girl,
that I can live without.
Last edited:
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10: My Funny Valentine
So I got this card.
Hey, it’s the time of year.
For cards I mean.
You know, the romantic thing.
Funny, how Saint Valentine got roped in.
It’s not you, it’s me.
Hey, that’s what the card says.
Inside I mean.
You know, it really says that.
Funny, the words we use to say Goodbye.
So I need to know
if this card says it true.
For us I mean.
You know, it might just be both.
Funny, how easy it was to send it.
So I got this card.
Hey, it’s the time of year.
For cards I mean.
You know, the romantic thing.
Funny, how Saint Valentine got roped in.
It’s not you, it’s me.
Hey, that’s what the card says.
Inside I mean.
You know, it really says that.
Funny, the words we use to say Goodbye.
So I need to know
if this card says it true.
For us I mean.
You know, it might just be both.
Funny, how easy it was to send it.
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11: Bloom
Rabid, stinking growth upon my soul
Eating out my brain
My love inserts itself within me like a tapeworm
And after all these years
I am helpless again
Oh! naughty love!
You have poisoned me once more
The shadow of my logical self
Gets up and walks out the door
For YOU, love shine, are hot and dense
And fill my mind with utter nonsense
Hungering waves rise up and cover me with goo
While I lick and spit and eat more it anew
Oh love, leave me alone!
I am torn up enough from my priors!
(Yet the love sponge has soaked up my perfect water barrier, and I am succombing - oh love, I must go buy flowers.)
Rabid, stinking growth upon my soul
Eating out my brain
My love inserts itself within me like a tapeworm
And after all these years
I am helpless again
Oh! naughty love!
You have poisoned me once more
The shadow of my logical self
Gets up and walks out the door
For YOU, love shine, are hot and dense
And fill my mind with utter nonsense
Hungering waves rise up and cover me with goo
While I lick and spit and eat more it anew
Oh love, leave me alone!
I am torn up enough from my priors!
(Yet the love sponge has soaked up my perfect water barrier, and I am succombing - oh love, I must go buy flowers.)
- Joined
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12: A Broken Heart
Valentine’s Day isn't a warm and fuzzy time for everyone.
Some children were not popular.
Never received valentine cards in school.
My best friend was one of those lonely souls.
I use to give him some of my cards to make him feel better.
Sometimes special occasions can be hell.
So when I am reading my card.
Enjoying my dinner and wine.
Watching my wife admire her dozen red roses.
I always think of my best friend.
Who took his life at a very young age?
On Valentine's Day, and I forever end up with a broken heart.
Valentine’s Day isn't a warm and fuzzy time for everyone.
Some children were not popular.
Never received valentine cards in school.
My best friend was one of those lonely souls.
I use to give him some of my cards to make him feel better.
Sometimes special occasions can be hell.
So when I am reading my card.
Enjoying my dinner and wine.
Watching my wife admire her dozen red roses.
I always think of my best friend.
Who took his life at a very young age?
On Valentine's Day, and I forever end up with a broken heart.
- Joined
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13: Take This Valentine
Tear my blistering heart, if you will,
I can take it, the hate you gift me,
sow it from your darkened thoughts,
and baptize me with your pretty anger—
as is your usual wont. I can swallow it,
take it to the pit of my swollen belly,
digest it with the mess you gave me.
you can seethe, spin in infinity on
these soiled beds once used for passions.
It will do you no good. Shoot me
with your hatred. I will not succumb
to your shallow will, will not
bow to the pills you spill me.
Take this valentine, this blackened heart
filled with the pall of days, the deadly venom
of a hateful hollow. I give it freely,
this aching valentine, with fingers
flayed and splayed, flung open
with a shivering heart now dead—
un-beating in my withered palm.
Tear my blistering heart, if you will,
I can take it, the hate you gift me,
sow it from your darkened thoughts,
and baptize me with your pretty anger—
as is your usual wont. I can swallow it,
take it to the pit of my swollen belly,
digest it with the mess you gave me.
you can seethe, spin in infinity on
these soiled beds once used for passions.
It will do you no good. Shoot me
with your hatred. I will not succumb
to your shallow will, will not
bow to the pills you spill me.
Take this valentine, this blackened heart
filled with the pall of days, the deadly venom
of a hateful hollow. I give it freely,
this aching valentine, with fingers
flayed and splayed, flung open
with a shivering heart now dead—
un-beating in my withered palm.
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14: Ashes
Into his house,
through the tumult of nobody around,
Major Turner returns.
Another casualty of the social club
of overcrowded souls.
From his blue-lit hallway
he watches the ashes of his second-last cigarette
festering outside in the dark --
festering, festering
desperate to be re-lit --
testament to desire.
The flavour of his soul
crowns in a morbid exhalation --
his eyes wander in sorrow.
There's nowhere worth going,
nothing worth doing --
He leans against the cold concrete wall,
looks at his
once-honey-now-wooden feet.
Black and white
don't mix with yellow ochre.
The living room door is locked --
she locked it.
She's in there now,
yellow flowers in her hair,
her red dress fitting intimately.
She's playing soft tunes on the piano,
nursing a frothy hot chocolate.
He can hear the crackling hearth.
Smitten and lonely,
the great Major Turner
turns pale in despair.
He inhales the sharp air of not-her,
he inhales,
and falls to dust.
His ashes, there on the cold floor,
in the shadows of nobody around.
Tomorrow she will unlock the door,
her blossoming steps
will catch in fright.
She will inhale despair
and she too
will crumble to dust.
Into his house,
through the tumult of nobody around,
Major Turner returns.
Another casualty of the social club
of overcrowded souls.
From his blue-lit hallway
he watches the ashes of his second-last cigarette
festering outside in the dark --
festering, festering
desperate to be re-lit --
testament to desire.
The flavour of his soul
crowns in a morbid exhalation --
his eyes wander in sorrow.
There's nowhere worth going,
nothing worth doing --
He leans against the cold concrete wall,
looks at his
once-honey-now-wooden feet.
Black and white
don't mix with yellow ochre.
The living room door is locked --
she locked it.
She's in there now,
yellow flowers in her hair,
her red dress fitting intimately.
She's playing soft tunes on the piano,
nursing a frothy hot chocolate.
He can hear the crackling hearth.
Smitten and lonely,
the great Major Turner
turns pale in despair.
He inhales the sharp air of not-her,
he inhales,
and falls to dust.
His ashes, there on the cold floor,
in the shadows of nobody around.
Tomorrow she will unlock the door,
her blossoming steps
will catch in fright.
She will inhale despair
and she too
will crumble to dust.
- Joined
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15: Valentine's Dinner
Each curling strip
So oily
drip drip drip
salty like bacon
more salt; needs a shakin’
I peel them away
scapula to sternum
cooked just right, don’t burn ‘em
fleshy morsels …
… in sweaters
with cute high school letters
just plump enough to stuff
toward the back of my throat
coated in blood drops with a thud
into belly
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh ...
What a treat for me!
Should she have listened?
“blind dates are for crazies”
should have brought her friend, too
made a fine duodenum stew
over thirty’s too tough
and fourteen’s like veal
the steal and deal are these
twenty-threes with degrees
Small knees and the
most tender
forearms
I’ve
ever
taste-ed-ah
And what have we here?
hanging just from her ears
cute diamonds
stuck deep, not to keep
in my meat
tear the thing out!
she’s dead or she’d shout
then nibble the lobe
like a candy
thigh steak comes loose
enough to produce
leftovers for the dog and me
see, no guilt here, just eat ‘em
them clear my throat, sit down
and watch Nick’s Valentine’s Day
“Quincy MD” marathon
all
night
long
Each curling strip
So oily
drip drip drip
salty like bacon
more salt; needs a shakin’
I peel them away
scapula to sternum
cooked just right, don’t burn ‘em
fleshy morsels …
… in sweaters
with cute high school letters
just plump enough to stuff
toward the back of my throat
coated in blood drops with a thud
into belly
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh ...
What a treat for me!
Should she have listened?
“blind dates are for crazies”
should have brought her friend, too
made a fine duodenum stew
over thirty’s too tough
and fourteen’s like veal
the steal and deal are these
twenty-threes with degrees
Small knees and the
most tender
forearms
I’ve
ever
taste-ed-ah
And what have we here?
hanging just from her ears
cute diamonds
stuck deep, not to keep
in my meat
tear the thing out!
she’s dead or she’d shout
then nibble the lobe
like a candy
thigh steak comes loose
enough to produce
leftovers for the dog and me
see, no guilt here, just eat ‘em
them clear my throat, sit down
and watch Nick’s Valentine’s Day
“Quincy MD” marathon
all
night
long
- Joined
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- Messages
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16: Cheater
Damn the sun and damn the moon
and all the jitterbugs that dance in june
and damn the soil, and damn the earth,
and damn the day the world gave birth
to you, you piece of work.
Curse the air and curse the sky
and curse the pointless question "why?"
You mortal fool you ignorant slob
you no good lazy fatt-ass blob.
You're such a stupid jerk.
Get out of my sight get out of my space
I'll punch your nose clean off your face.
I told you once don't come 'round here.
I see you don't have a healthy fear
of dying. Well you should.
I've damned your house I've damned your car
I've damned the planets and every last star
I've damned your job and your circle of friends
especially that tramp. Now it ends
like I told you it would.
I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.
And never once, did I ever
think I would hurt
so
bad.
Damn the sun and damn the moon
and all the jitterbugs that dance in june
and damn the soil, and damn the earth,
and damn the day the world gave birth
to you, you piece of work.
Curse the air and curse the sky
and curse the pointless question "why?"
You mortal fool you ignorant slob
you no good lazy fatt-ass blob.
You're such a stupid jerk.
Get out of my sight get out of my space
I'll punch your nose clean off your face.
I told you once don't come 'round here.
I see you don't have a healthy fear
of dying. Well you should.
I've damned your house I've damned your car
I've damned the planets and every last star
I've damned your job and your circle of friends
especially that tramp. Now it ends
like I told you it would.
I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.
And never once, did I ever
think I would hurt
so
bad.
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17: A Gift
This heart's for you--
remember me when pallid sleep
shutters eyes with ivory
grip.
This heart's for you--
remember me when steady beat
drowns in memory's charcoal
breast.
This heart's for you--
remember me when frosted breath
recalls your life from scarlet
death.
This heart's for you--
remember me.
Remember me.
This heart's for you--
remember me when pallid sleep
shutters eyes with ivory
grip.
This heart's for you--
remember me when steady beat
drowns in memory's charcoal
breast.
This heart's for you--
remember me when frosted breath
recalls your life from scarlet
death.
This heart's for you--
remember me.
Remember me.
- Joined
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18: Return to Eden
This thing they call love
is like a deadly serpent
that slithers and crawls
and entwines itself
around your body, it is
like a bitter poison
pulsating through
your blood dulling
your senses
leaving you mute
incoherent
dumb.
Shield your eyes
avoid the tree
and delicacies
sweet and heady
for verdant branches
hide wicked creatures
and forked tongues
lie, lurking Ouroboros
waiting to strike
and devour itself.
Curse the day
and the garden.
This thing they call love
is like a deadly serpent
that slithers and crawls
and entwines itself
around your body, it is
like a bitter poison
pulsating through
your blood dulling
your senses
leaving you mute
incoherent
dumb.
Shield your eyes
avoid the tree
and delicacies
sweet and heady
for verdant branches
hide wicked creatures
and forked tongues
lie, lurking Ouroboros
waiting to strike
and devour itself.
Curse the day
and the garden.
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