Friday, January 23, 2009

My Funny Valentines

Thanks, Jo, for your inspiration. I normally let Valentine's day pass unmarked. Unmarked like those police cars that you don't notice, but can pull you over and ruin your life, anyway.

So here are some Valentines that I would like to see. Are you listening, Hallmark? (I may add more later, I don’t know.)

Valentine 1

When Cupid takes me in his aim
To work his cursèd craft,
It seems I never get the point —
I always get the shaft.

So, if you’re like me, a pitied fool,
A lad without a lass,
I’m sure you’ll share this sentiment,

Valentine 2
[Thanks, Jo!]

I’ve been dodging arrows left and right,
Thank you, Mister Cupid.
Eventually, you’ll strike your mark
’Cause, frankly, I am poopèd

Valentine 3: From a Terminal Patient

Won't you be my Valentine?
You know you hold my heart.
And, tho I now lay supine
I pray we never part.

If that day should ever come, my dear,
Please give me one last hug.
I'll shed a final, parting tear
And then you pull the plug.

Valentine 4
I give to you my heart, my love,
My spleen and liver, too.
I'll close my eyes, praise God above,
Then you can have those, too.

Goodbye! Take care, my sweets
Be good to your new owner.
Merry parts and merry meats,
From me, your organ donor.

Valentine 5

In the never-ending race for love
I don't know why I bust my ass.
Everyone knows, push comes to shove,
Nice guys *always* finish last!

Valentine 6

"It's ewe I love," the shepherd cried
As he gave a sheepish grin.
"I've loved before, God knows I tried,
You won't believe how long it's been!"

"Run away with me, my darling!
Let us flee this fulsome flock.
Enough, now. No more quarreling.
By hook or crook, I'll have you walk."

"People won't understand our love.
I know I shouldn't give a damn.
But it's not a thing I'm really proud of,"
And, so he took it on the lam.

Valentine 7: For An Australian

I’m A for T in love, you see,
I hope we two are never parted.
It’s plain to me, you’re dinki-di.
A bit more choke, you would have started!



Of Valentines I write tonight
I dread that fateful day!
For everyone whose partnered up
Gets candy, cards and lay(ed).

Wives, girlfriends get their roses
And their cards say “I love you”
They get taken out to dinner
And lots of chocolates too.

But those of us without a mate
stand out like a sore thumb.
We try to act like we don’t care
Our true feelings we keep mum.

I hate the day with all my Heart
It’s a Hallmark, schmaltzy ruse.
It makes us single, unmatched types
feel and look like fools.

Of Valentines I’m cynical
cause I’m single, through and through.
I may not get no roses
But to my own Heart I’ll be True!


On this day, I’ve called to ask
Your help with a minor task
This question may be a little bold
But I realize now, I’m getting old
I’ve searched the net far and wide
And can find no woman to be my bride
So I’d like for you to have my son
In your oven, I’ll put my bun
Your inconvenience will be minimal
I’ll cover every doctor bill
Well, that’s what I want, what’do you say?
Oh, and Happy Valentine’s Day.


I saw a girl I used to know
Then I went and chased her.
“Don’t run away! I’m friend, not foe …
You can use my turkey baster!”

“Come back to me, my One True … Like.
I only want to procreate!
I need someone to bear the tyke …
Come back before you ovulate!”

“I sense some hesitation.
This has ever been my doom!
I didn’t make a reservation
And you have a private womb.”


Of Valentine’s Day, I’m cynical, too.
Mated or not, it belongs in the loo.
I want to yell, “There is no Cupid,
Accept it, all you Stupid!”

Roses and candy and dinner out
What the hell is that all about?
Most of us sit home and stew
While hubbies scratch their heads and haven’t a clue.

When I think of my mate
It is so easy to berate
When I dream of roses
All the while he dozes.

No, partnered is no guarantee
Of champagne and brie.
Nor even of getting laid tonight.
Single or married, we can all agree
Valentine’s Day is oh, so trite.


Glad I am when Valentine’s Day passes,
A day fit for camels, and donkeys, and asses.
Roses shed petals, they droop and they slump,
Department store chocolates stay on the rump.
Candy hearts with rude sayings beneath
Are carcinogen-laden, and will break your teeth.
After some thought, I have now come to grips
That Cupid’s arrows have poison-dart brew on their tips.

1 comment:

dirtdiva said...

Number 4 still brings a guffaw and a tear...too macabre but still delicious. Ignore this fascist fake holiday! Just make poems!