The Anti-Valentine's Day Poetry Competition
to win a meal for six at The Big Bang, Walton Street,
has been won by Anna Morgan!
Many thanks to all who entered - and watch this space for further competitions!

We've put a few of our favourite entries here -
we hope you enjoy them as much as we did!

Some milkshakes come with straws for two.
Some parks are made for skipping through.
Some views are made for sighing over.
Some folks hold hands in fields of clover.
It's Valentine's Day - know what I'll do?
I'll celebrate being over you.

I hate you, you're icky, you're like an old leech.
I hate you, you look like a whale that is beached.
Your ego's the one thing about you that's great.
You're so crap in bed I'd rather, er, read a good book.
I hate you, you think you're so gorgeous and cool
But you surely crawled from a defective gene pool.
You're a moaner, a droaner, a grouch bag, a whinger -
You've even got pubes that are luminous ginger.

Some people are jolly, they greet you with smiles
And not just a grimace because of their piles.
Some people are grown ups and treat others well.
Some people don't send out a god-awful smell.
Some people show kindness and love without end -
These people are all of my favourite friends.
It's Valentine's Day - so we'll throw a great bash:
I'll stop dating old bangers - just eat them with mash!

Anna Morgan



"Give us a bash at the bangers and mash",
My darling used to say,      
YOU may be good for a few minutes,       
But bangers will last me all day !





There was a young girl reading law
Who found parties a bit of a bore.
She skipped the Valentine's bash
And ate sausage and mash
Saying "This is what evenings are for"

Deborah Caedel

Hip Hip Hurray, the time has come
For all lovebirds to sing their song,
All the birds that is but one
Coz valentines cards?  I got none!

The cards are so expensive
A complete waste of money
Some of them are sick, or sickly,
And most aren't even funny.

The price of flowers goes up
The price of chocolates too
No tables free in restaurants
So I'm forced to eat home-made goo.

Hip Hip Hurray, the time has come
For all lovebirds to sing their song,
All the birds that is but one
Coz valentines cards?  I got none!

Helen Penguin


All the kissing couples
And the teddy bears in mugs.
Annoying shaped balloons.
And big pink cards that promise hugs.

Cupid's arrow didn't hit
Me anywhere this year.
So me, myself and I will
Drown our sorrows in some beer.

The 14th of the 2nd month
Is just another day.
So why the crazy air of love?
It just gets in the way.

I'd rather go out with my friends
Or sit at home and read.
I'd like a boyfriend, yes I would.
But its not a desperate need.

So "down wiv valentiney things"
"Down wiv love" I say.
Down with all the bears in mugs

Charlotte Scadeng



The only light's orange, from outside,
and the crack under the bathroom door,
interrupted by the shadow of her shoes.
You find it hard not to pick at the holes;
it's late, in the flat on Magdalen Street,
and it's gone too far; it's become tired.

You're glad that she's tired.
When she's asleep, you slip outside
in your old coat, standing in the street,
counting up symptoms by the narrow door.
For one: the coat carries a full quota of holes,
but she's far keener to get rid of your old shoes.

Could it ease things, to tell her about the shoes?
No; you've tried to explain it before. You're tired
of her inability to understand the value held in holes.
One time, she bagged them up, and left them outside
a charity shop. You found them in a wire bin, by the door;
bought them, and took them back home to Magdalen Street.

Perhaps you could tell her: this is dust from home, the street
where you played in the summer evenings, without shoes;
the tree-lined street that lead you to the ever-open door
which you finally closed as you left them behind, tired,
waving from the kitchen, too old to venture outside,
waiting patiently to be laid in their paired holes.

Or perhaps tell her: these were the holes
that let in the water on Magdalen Street.
You listened, in the darkness outside,
for the sound of the tap of her shoes
over the falling rain, wet and tired,
but still, waiting at her door.

There's new carpet inside the front door.
On this, the saddest night, the only holes
are those torn in clumsy haste. Too tired
to keep it up anymore, you quit the street
for the bed a last time, dragging you shoes
up to the flat, the birds starting up outside.

Close the door, and leave them on the landing, outside;
they may be a tired excuse, but the holes in those shoes
are all that'll endure this last night on Magdalen Street.



The pathway to my heart is strewn
With gifts which don't cause me to swoon

Malodorous, over-priced flowers
Which wither and die within hours

Fattening sweets I despise
Bringing cellulite straight to my thighs

Tacky red cards with the line
'Dear Valentine won't you be mine'

So if it's my heart that you seek
Please listen to these words I speak
Send cupid away
Forget Valentine's Day
We can resume our courtship next week



Bother... Tell me what to get!
Soft toys, heart shaped cakes and red
Roses scattered on the floor?
I can't take it anymore!!!

Feel like hiding in the pub
And consider breaking up.
But as you might feel like me -
Let's go out and grab a tea.

Antje Kastner

How do I love thee, let me count the ways.
There were the first four times you turned me down,
Once in The Gardner's, three in The Crown,
There was the twice you were drunk enough to agree,
And the twice you had somewhere better to be.
There was the once you slept with my best mate Ray,
The ten times you told me "he's as great as they say..."
The five times you laughed,
The four times you snickered,
Nine failed attempts to get into your knickers.
There are the dozen red roses that I wont be buying
There are ninety-nine tears that I wont be crying
Cause me and five mates are having a bash
We'll be stuffing our faces at Bangers and Mash.

Mr Navel Nite

In the dark, forgotten street
Where time, like a fog, curls 'round one's feet
And the slow hum of people begins to fade
I present to myself my own accolade
Most likely to pray to the stars above
Most likely to never find one's true love
Most likely to die, alone on a street
Where time, like a fog, curls 'round one's feet

The Great Lorenzo


Rose are Red
Violets are Blue
Our love is like a poem
Which doesn't work

Peter O



Won't you be mine you whine
But I decline your valentine

Your hairline is divine
But I decline your valentine

You're no genuine swine
But I decline your valentine

Oh fine, we'll dine at nine
But to be most sincere my dear
You can't buy me love any time of the year.

Gabriel A. Miller




A young lad from St Edmund Hall
Had no one to take to the ball.
Then he won a free meal
(Which increased his appeal)
And he got the best girl of them all.

Deborah Caedel



A dozen red roses?
You must be keen!
Though I must confess
This doesn't mean
You can love me less
The rest of the year
But for now I'll say
Why thank you dear!
Thanks for that day
You didn't frown
You said I looked pretty
Left the toilet seat down
Turned off the footy
Had a meaningful talk
Cooked me dinner
Took a lovely walk
Of course this day
Has yet to show
Perhaps next year?
Perhaps tomorrow?
But today my dear
I'm thinking how
Romantic you are
You'll do for now.

Jaded Love


A dozen red roses wont wash it with me
a card full of verses cant make me see

that valentines day is any better than others
its sweet and smulchy and completely smothers

lets cut with the crap and just hang out
with wacky friends who are in no doubt

being single and free is much more fun
sack stupid cupid and lets all be done

with fun friends lets all hang
get yourself down to the big bang

its the greatest place to now visit
anti-valentines please don't miss it.

Angela Rees


Stare the wall and think of her
"Sod it", call Jeff, and out to a bar
Raise the roof off with terrible songs,
Toast all my mates, one, two, three times gone
Out we stagger, into the night
Singing a Valentine to our last pint
Love? Ha! Give me beer, cigs and friends
And tell that little trollop that here's where it ends.

Peter Hart

Have you seen the card-shop windows
Ablaze with red on red?
Lipstick kisses, hearts of felt,
Hints of sex and bed.
Cuddly toys, hand in hand,
All seem to shout it out:
"Look at us, we're so in love -
There's a lot of it about".

Have you seen the cards inside the shops,
A riot of red on red?
Cute confections, soft and sweet,
Or hot and rude instead.
Ones with rhymes or bits inside
So hearts or parts pop out:
"Love is like this everywhere!
There's a lot of it about!".

Have you seen the streets and peoples' lives
Awash with red on red?
Crash-zone complications;
Things not done, not said.
Hopes held high, fallen down;
Hearts confused cry out.
Looks and feelings fooled them all.
There's a lot of it about.

Glenn Watson 8/2/5




'Of course we don't mind', my single friends cry.
'A boyfriend brings heartache'.  They all give a sigh,
'It's great being single; we do as we please
No more snores, farts and belches, egos to appease'

'We go shopping all weekend, no excuses to make,
Watch TV all evening without taking a break,
Our bathrooms smell lovely, all peaches and cream,
There's no dirty laundry from his rugby team'!

'On Sundays a lie-in, the bed to ourselves
No male with the habits of loud under-twelves
Time for hair-wash, and make-up and chocolate and phone
And then curling up with the cat and a tome'

So, why that the minute a chap comes in sight
My girlfriends just vanish; just a glimpse in the night.
Could it be that they're fibbing, no, heaven forbid!
They do really mean it;it's themselves that they kid.

On Monday the fourteenth, I shall gather them up
The prospect of good food and good wine to sup
May show all the 'Singles' that all is not lost
They'll be even keener when they hear there's no cost!




Oh beloved of mine,
Dear Valentine,
I love you so
(and Freud knows why)
Come let us dine
In candlelight
And talk of love
(and garlic mash)

So slender, you, in that fine dress-
ing, we'll make a match
And get a blessing,
For you alone were made for me
(from a pig), and now extruded
You'll cook so well,
And all are included
- at Big Bang on Valentines Day
So sausage dear, what do you say?

P J Moore


He talks fast thro' a frown; he won't slow down.
He has a lot to say, you'll find there's a lot on his mind.
He finds more and more ways of staying further away from me each day.
He'd die before doing anything for me; I always make the tea.

There's no one on our frequency and day time TV kills me.
The OC is going to wipe out our existence.
With Seth Cohen in town, we won¹t be going the distance.

Lita Doolan