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Anti-Valentine's Day Poetry Competition
Lita Doolan February 1, 2006
The Perfect Lover

I've given half a lifetime, clinging to the same bar.
It's hard to know how far to go
but a wet knife makes the perfect slice.
If you leave it next to you that fetches you
the perfect temperature for a silky texture.
8 small bites makes it fill out the morning break.
It's never too late to love chocolate.
It's just a sticky paste that sticks around my waist.
Lita Doolan February 1, 2006
5 a day

Flying high on the 'get ready' express,
to fit into my black cherry dress.
Banana scrub dazzles, spits
onto my sticky mango'd lips.
No time to waste, he's booked ahead.
A citrus slush kills all smells dead.
Pink grapefruit juice in a body polish
gets sprayed on with a Parisian swish.
So when my beau says, 'Feeling fruity?'
My answer will be 'Oui!'
Don't let the doom & gloom of the credit crunch
stop you both from going for the munch
eat and be jolly
no need for mistletoe or holly
how romantic is this valentine lunch
crunch munch crunch
St. Valentine's man I despise
I hate you with all my heart
I wish I should wrap my fingers around your neck until it all goes dark

Don't tell me that you love me
Because that really is not true
I think I'd have a better time in the gutter sniffing glue

Oh god look at what she has on her face
It's a pail of cosmetic death
I should have stayed back at my good friend's house and smoked some Crystal Meth.
Bangers n Mash
For some, or no, cash
Is the heavenly meal
That will still make us feel
That even Valentine's Day
Is nearly OK
Another Valentine’s alone, to my friends I whinge and moan
“I wish I had a secret admirer, to send me flowers and make the day brighter”
But behold another year without, when will end this romance drought?
So instead I hatch a crafty plan, Mission: bag myself a man
My girls and I we arrange to meet, to drink good wine and find a restaurant to eat
We chat to men and try to mingle, how come the good ones never are single?
Forget this plan, Valentine’s is a commercial hash, I’ll happily settle for Bangers and Mash!
Roses are red, violets are blue
I prefer a good book to a night out with you
our candle-lit dinner is my idea of hell,
the worst bits to my friends i will tell
your personality is like a damp cloth,
i can't believe i'm seeing such a toff
tommorow i will dump you, and all your silly ways,
you'll save me a bundle as it's me who pays
there's not much more to say sweetheart,
as i'm off to have fun and be a complete tart.
Cupid's arrow is alas now blunt
because I've strangled the little ....
Anti-Hallmark poem

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”
Maybe – but one that’s damp, dark and grey!
For if your “love comforteth like sunshine after rain"
Then I’ll make sure I don’t forget my brolly again.

“Parting” you said “is such sweet sorrow”
But I don’t want you to call, not today, not tomorrow.
You said “I’ll follow you and make a heaven out of hell”
But please don’t, as without you, I’m doing quite swell.

Each Valentine’s Day you have a message to impart,
But you clearly don’t understand the way to my heart.
This year, instead of some Shakespeare re-hash,
Why not try writing me something about sausage and mash?
February rolls around, and its come to this,
St. Valentines Day with no prospects of a kiss
Clintons are making stacks of dough,
So what? My card will never show.

The dreaded morning of the 14th is here,
Postman arrives, but no roses appear
Cheer up, there's no time to mourn,
I would only get pricked by a thorn.

Couples walk hand-in hand,
Tables-for-two are in high demand,
'Love is all around us' Wet Wet Wet once sang,
Forget that crap, let's all head to The Big Bang!!
Valentine Blues

Roses are red
But anger is too
And it's sadness (not violets)
I get when I'm blue.

Passion is purple -
And so too is rage.
Envy is green
(I'm not sure about beige)

And I'm a yellow-bellied chameleon
Of indeterminate hue
Still, I'm longing to paint
How I feel about you.

Because 'love' is just a word
Whereas colour can thrill you
And free you and freak you
Or catch you - and spill you.

Choose from indigo, ivory, crimson, cyan,
Aqua, azure, maroon and magenta,
Ochre and orchid, russet, raw umber,
Lavender, lilac, seashell, sienna...

But it's Valentine's Day -
So there's only one ink.
It's heart-shaped, it's fluffy, and
You guessed it - it's PINK!

And that's all you get,
'Cos the marketing guys
Sedate and placate you
No room for ...surprise.

No room for a love which is
Dark or chaotic
Ambiguous, twisted,
Or simply neurotic.

Just love that is bland
And so sugary sweet,
With no range of colour -
With no kind of *meat*.

Now mash can be fluffy,
And bangers are pink.
They'll charm and disarm you
Washed down by a drink.

But love's neither fluffy nor pink -
Let's get real!
So on Valentine's Day -
Join your friends for a meal.
One wonders why we celebrate
(I use the word with doubt)
A day we all look forward to
About as much as sprouts.

Of course, in some quaint bygone age,
It must have been quite sweet
To get a card from Question Mark
And blush with girlish glee;

But - speaking as the squishiest
And fluffiest of saps -
I can't help thinking these days it
Just makes us all feel crap.

Let's face it, as a singleton
It makes you want to puke,
With every couple in the world
Smugged-up in front of you;

But spare a thought for those of us
No longer on the shelf,
Who share our special, unique bond
With everybody else,

And have to buy a card to say
"I love you" - as if we're
Too thick to think of saying it
More than once every year;

Red roses, chocolates, teddy bears:
So how-it-ought-to-be -
Yet surely half the fun of love
Is spontaneity?

So 'til it's worth a day off work
Let's boycott it, I say! -
I'd rather have a cup of tea
And big up Pancake Day.

For love is like a puppy (though
A lot less bone-inclined):
It is - or ought to be - for life,
Not just for Valentine's.
I won’t be buying silly cards,
Or roses plump and pink,
I’ll not get chocolates shaped like hearts,
Nor buy romantic drink.
For what’s so great about this day?
It won’t make love more true,
And anyway, why should I pay?
I’ve better things to do.

For…
I’ll never be your Valentine,
I tell you ‘No’, not ‘Maybe’.
I wouldn’t be your Valentine,
Not even if you paid me.

If Cupid bent his little bow
And shot at both of us
I hope his aim is true and so
You die without a fuss.
And if by some unhappy chance
His arrow struck me too,
I’d rip it out without a glance
And throw it back at you.

‘Cos…
I’ll never be your Valentine,
I tell you ‘No’, not ‘Maybe’.
I wouldn’t be your Valentine,
Not even if you paid me.
My best friend Mary Lou
was beautiful at school.
I always envied her
her glitzy polished nails
and bright blonde hair –
and uniform accessorised with grown-up flair.

One Valentine’s
she came in with a secret smile
and in Geography she proudly showed me
what she’d ‘got from Harry
in the year above'. He’d handed her
the box, wrapped up in pink
(it matched her nails, I thought)
that morning on the bus.
We ate the chocolates furtively,
lined up the strawberry creams on Cairo
and the truffles on the Aswan Dam.
Halfway through my second Nutty Whirl
I thought ‘Harry’ pretty generous.
At 4pm though, Mary Lou slipped off
behind the bike sheds
and I walked home alone. Only then
I wondered ‘What did she give him?’

Five years on, I think of Mary Lou again.
It’s Valentine’s and dinner with six friends -
low talk and budget wine - was better
than a romance any day.
I’d have invited her along
But with her child –
Nearly four, she said –
She’s not around so much.

I’ll get her chocolates instead.
Cold sausages in the night
The fridge light glistens
He gave it to me in a doggy bag
The swell Big Bang man who listens.

I told him,'yikes! this mash amazes
But what about Saint Valentines?
I bet you get sick and tired
Of rosy couples ordering fine wines?'.

He just smiled a sausage smile,
A secret up his sleeve,
'Nah,don't you worry! If they get slushy,
I just tell them all to leave!'

'Only joking! but seriously
Don't fret about the date,
You'll be laughing when I give you...'
(and he produces from behind)
...Free bangers on a plate!.

So here I am, sausage in paw
Pyjama's gone a bit gravy
Thank you for my porky feast
Your rose-mash and chutney saved me!
Why do we need to bother
finding a Valentine lover?
Men are frankly overrated,
all that romance thing's outdated!

I'm a regular gal
happier with my pals.
We are Oxford born and bred
totally gorgeous and well read!

We composed this little jingle
cos we feel we're happier single!
Our biological clock's not ticking!
To our carefree ways we're sticking.

After Raoul's on Friday night
It's off to Big Bang for a bite.
The food's superb, the beer is great,
that's where we'll be on Valentine's mate!
Did I get a present?
Did I get a card?
A box of choccies? Teddy bear?
Surely it's not hard.

But nothing landed on my mat
On Valentines this year.
I will not moan, feel bad or cry
I refuse to shed a tear.

Instead I’ll go out for some dinner
The Big Bang's where I’ll head.
A fab night out with all the girls
Is what I need instead.

And if I meet my Mister Right
I think he’ll have to wait.
I won’t have time for love this year
Until I’ve cleared my plate!
my love is like a rocket,
it blasts off in to space,
but once up in the blackness,
it has no landing place.

all other blasting rockets,
have a planet to which they go,
and they are welcomed with open arms;
but where am i going?...I don't know.

and come this Feb. the fourteenth,
i fear all else will land,
but i'll continue in orbit;
no one to hold my hand.

and so alone i'll bear it,
unless by chance i crash,
in to five other lonely rockets;
all saved with bangers and mash.
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I like sausages
Better than you.
There once was a young man from Langer
To his Valentine, a song he once sang her
About a lad with no cash
So cooked her bangers and mash
And she consented to letting him bang her!
Mr. Starbucks and St. Valentine were mates.
on a queer February morn,
they were to be spotted on every street corn,
their marketing team clever demons,
programming their product in to the routine,
a must be done,
the essential way to live.
a caffeine shot; the trendy morning action jolt,
without, you quiver and shake.
the Valentine serenade, find one or if alone you will feel it,
without, you quiver and shake.
So they triumph and laugh as we surrender to their spell,
Unquestioning.
Yet far from our “progressed” world-
Where the coffee growers work the daylight hour’s active under the garish sun,
So that we drinkers can be active under the brazen cloud,
Love is as clear headed as love is anywhere,
Without the required enforcement of red satin devils or processed cocoa hearts wrapped in fancy card board.
And there is no demise without the
Presentation of these things,
And life continues in peace until
St. Valentine and Mr. S arrive here.
I hope they miss their plane.
"Romantic Constraint"

If you wish to dish and dine
with a Valentine next week
then think very carefully
about the way you speak,
for you may find yourself
incapable of saying
“Darling, will you be mine?”

Over the years it appears to be
that your intense study has broken
your speech apart,
for love is now a token
that cannot be expressed
as time has taken its toll
on your vocabulary,

Plans for V-Day may not work out,
Without a doubt it’ll be easy to fix
if you shape up and stop reading
so much damn economics
I’m afraid, you need to spend
more time trying to figure out
what love’s all about,

Friend, can’t you append a word
or two preferred by the those
more successful in love and
subtle in their prose?
Or will you spend yet another
Valentine’s day as a desperate
and lonely Econ nerd?
Don't Be My Valentine

I'm not your valentine,
Please don't be mine,
Because love is made up,
and romance sucks,
So leave me alone,
You can take yourself home,
Cause being a valentine's bad luck.
A cynic's love song

My love is like a child's balloon:
he bobs around like a fat buffoon,
His body is ruddy and rather rotund,
He blows up without warning leaving me stunned,
And at though at the start he seems firm for the night,
He seems to deflate once I turn out the light.
A popular day

‘Roses? Red I take it, and a dozen I assume?
Tied with a bow, with a handwritten note?
Been a busy day, down to my last bloom!
I’ll tell you this, Valentine’s got my vote!’

Actually, can I just have a pot plant please?
No, I’ve not seen roses as pretty as these
And I certainly do have someone I love!
No, she won’t want a card, heavens above!
I just want a pot plant. That one will do.
No, not a joke, it’s perfectly true.

‘Ah, Bonjour, welcome to our restaurant,
I take it you wish a table for two with candles tonight?
Fully booked but for one table, yours if you want
Believe me, for us, this day is all right!’

No, party of six for a friendly meal
No, I appreciate tonight’s a good deal
Yes, I know your champagne’s very nice
Thanks, I don’t need to look at the price
Next week for my booking would be fine
And no, heart shaped menus are not divine!

‘Just a newspaper mate? Not fancy a card?
This one looks lovely, covered in hearts!
Ill give you a hand, these choices are hard!
Box of chocs too, for when the fun starts…’

No, just a newspaper for me
Yes, it’s very pretty, that I can see
I’m leaving now, that’s all I need
Yes, I know the date, yes, I can read!
I don’t need a calendar to help me feel romance
Better to do it all year than do it just once!
The six of us are charming,
beautiful and modest too!
But the thought of Feb 14th,
leaves us feeling rather blue.

For this year we’re all single
and will be ’til that day has passed.
All that effort, all that pressure,
the chaps we know just can’t be arsed!

And who can really blame them?
Society dictates they pay
for a card, flowers and dinner -
no wonder they are scared away!

How are they to know,
that we’d gladly pay our share
and that we don’t want presents,
we’d just like to know they care?

It’s not something we can tell them
without looking too keen.
And they wouldn’t ask us,
for fear of seeming mean.

So they won’t bother this year.
They’ll all go to the pub instead.
Ironic that this day for lovers
kills all thoughts of romance dead.

Instead we could go shopping
and spend all of our cash,
but what we need is comfort food,
So please, bring on the mash!!
Come Dance

Come to a dance
Bring a boy dance
Dance all night long
You will have lots of joy.

Send a card to your darling
Your romance will soon be flowering

Like a flower like a star you're in love yes you are.
'Be Mine'

Another excuse to spend money on cards
Watching my friends go the whole nine yards
Buying flowers and teddy bears and little love hearts
Have you seen the price of these things? Now don’t even start.

These shops, they suck all the money out of your life
I mean isn’t it enough that I married my wife?
That cost me enough and here we are again
In the shops looking for something so we can pretend
That it matters if you get something saying ‘Be mine’

Another 40 minutes standing in line like an idiot to hand
Over more hard earned cash that I can't afford on some
Cheap plastic trash, give me a cuddle or get me a bottle of wine,
Let's go out for a meal instead and have a good time.
When Valentine's Day is about,
I'm tempted to get out of town.
The lack of cards and meals out
Has the tendency to get me down.
I've tried it all -
Dated pauper and prince.
I've cooked bolognese -
But forgotten the mince.
I've taken classes
In kung fu and flower arranging
But, despite the bruises,
Found no one engaging.
I sailed down the Thames
Rock-climbed in Taiwan,
I filmed dolphins dancing
But still found no one.
But this year will be different,
Me and my friends will not be rash,
We'll celebrate our lengthy freedom
With wine, dance, bangers and mash.
I cannot express my love for mash
And sausages of meat and herb,
But at the moment je n'ai pas de cash,
So give me what I deserve!
I deserve free venison, lamb and beef,
And oodles of gravy for flavour,
Piles of sausage with minty leaf,
Taste and texture to savour.
My tongue is longing to caress
Some real and decent grub
My stomach hungers to ingest
Something not served in a tub.
No more kebab or food from hall,
No Valentine's love or February ball,
I just want sausage and, at that, for free
I want six meals, and they're all for me.
You're gay
you're straight
you entertain me
this way and that
I'm addicted to you
you're devoted to me
I sit at your throne
my skills to hone.
Who needs a man?
you reckon, you plan
you seduce me with music
When we meet
you spread sheets
conjure up words
trail the world
I check and correct you
you never complain.
Where have you been all this time?
My PC valentine.
My love was a sausage
'Twas leek and 'twas pork.
On Valentine's Day
I requested a fork.
A year ago today we went to dine,
A simple meal to celebrate our state:
Some sausages and half a jug of wine -
I little knew your love had turned to hate.

Beneath the silky onions, I could tell,
A sausage lurked, all tantalising curves.
Your fiery glances complimented well
(Or so I thought) the crust of fragrant herbs.

The words with which you dumped me seemed so apt.
I quivered 'neath your bold sarcastic lash.
Your cutting phrases elegantly capped
The soft astringence of the mustard mash.

It lingers on, the image of you nude;
You're like a fading backdrop to my life.
When love is gone, what is there left but food?
I salivate as I pick up the knife.
Valentine

Who's Valentine? What a stupid name!
I know : He came from Underworld
And wanted to play a game
With pretty faces and hearts

He has green eyes and sloppy face
With big, leper's hands
His mother thinks he's a disgrace
To his family's tradition

So why the hell we celebrate
A social bomb, a creepy bloke
Who wished harm to pretty babes
And brought pain around the block

And if you read this shit
You must be crazy,
And if you still think of Valentine's Day you must be bored
It is a cheesy day and my wedding anniversary as well.
Valentine's Day
Why do we have it?
It's capitalist bollocks
Damn it!

The price of roses goes up for a week
Romantics get hardly any sleep
They sweat and stress about what to buy
Gift prices rocket up sky high.

Valentine's Day,
Why do we have it?
It's capitalist bollocks
Damn it!
I love you lots, I love you more
You mean the world to me.
...and love is proved by spending more
And more expensively.
One flower says: "I s'pose you'll do"
A dozen roses sing:
"I've shelled out cos I love you
But I'm too scared for a ring."
Romance has gone, to be replaced
By feelings of great glee.
Not on the part of lovers
But the greetings industry.
No longer will a simple card
Placate a Valentine
It's teddies, diamonds, holidays
that say "Will you be mine?"
As pubs and clubs hike prices up
And everything turns fluff
The ribbons start to strangle me
I have to say, Enough!
No longer is it Cupid's aim
That makes two lovers dote:
It's adverts aimed at jugulars
And Clintons round my throat.
I'm not a hippy but I'd say
If people wish to woo
It's not the shopper profile
Who is trying to get through.
Bangers are cool and mash is too
valentines day sucks and so do you
So its off to the Big Bang i am
defnitely without you but first i will
have to scrape you off my shoe
HEART STOPPING

The middle of February is a most peculiar time,
The 14th to be precise, is the basis for this rhyme,
It seems that the population, are torn in two; torn apart,
One group ruled by its head, the other ruled by its heart.

I am strictly belonging to the ruled by head group,
I need no diaphragm or diagram, to guide me through this Love soup,
A simple story of a broken heart, will allow me to attest,
That this fair writer has suffered a fatal cardiac arrest,
So this Valentines day, you won’t see me celebrating,
No sickly sweet sentiments, my heart rate will not be elevating,

But from all of you who are in deep, with Love's current version,
I am sensing some hostility, smacking strongly of aversion,
To those of you whose blood is boiling as you accuse me of perjury,
I wish you all the best of luck for the future and your, maybe not today,
Maybe not tomorrow, but inevitable, open heart surgery.
CAN I BANISH THOSE VALENTINE BLUES

Why is it I always feel more unloved when Valentines day comes round,
could it be that my heart doesn’t flutter with excitement and joy?
Because while I see hands held tight among star-crossed lovers
The ghost of my own dreams is lost in distant memory of that boy.

Is it always thus that melancholy will be my companion
when Cupid revisits our planet on his celestial birthday?
Oh, I wish I could again experience love's bitter-sweet pill
as in the past to reach such heights of ecstasy.

For he was the reason for life in those balmy days,
when carefree was a byword as we indulged our blissful state.
Not for us the worries of a woeful world
only the concern of arriving for our next assignation late.

But alas those days are gone with the distant winds of time,
dusty memories in a neglected loft of the mind.
Now, like Scrooge, I mutter “humbug” at love’s sightings
and bemoan why nobody since then has been so kind.

Wait, though, it shouldn’t perhaps be up to others to respond.
Maybe I should throw off those past days of wine
and get on with my life; well just look over there
for he’s a nice looking man who in time could be mine!

So, here we go again down that Valentine road,
not knowing where my heart will lead.
But I guess if you want to climb out of that valley to vistas new
you should be prepared for Cupid’s arrows to hurt and bleed.
Sonnet on a toilet wall

I love you, mister, more than I could ever say.
I won't say nuffing, mister, only stare.
If I could spit, I'd wipe your name away,
Or speak, and say I'd rather bleed than care.
The boys all think you're noncy and absurd.
I think you're lovely but you got no chin.
If you would only have me as your bird
I wouldn't let the boys all do you in.
You know my number, lipsticked on the tiles.
You know I always swallow when I suck.
When blagging smokes, I hope you're met with smiles;
When kissing me, I hope you push your luck.
And most of all I hope you know the sign:
Two fingers' V, that's me for "valentine."
ConsumerVal Day

Why I ask? Do we have this day?
An 'official' celebration of a 'loving way.'
Who is it that devised such a feast?
To remind us, of our loneliness at least?

Consumerism leads us to spend our money,
On cheap tacky presents for our honey,
These meaningless nick knacks are to help them see,
Our love for them - Doesn't Love come for free?

Love and relationships come and go,
We need to accept this and take things slow,
To allow us to enjoy and not rush,
Into something, which may eventually turn our hearts into mush.

I am not angry - or anti-love,
But I do think that everyone, the whole world should
Not represent such a rare thing with gifts,
Not conform to consumer - convention and myths.

And what I don't understand, in our human land,
We are scared of taking another's hand,
To tell them each day, not just for one
That our love for them is unconditional, not won.
Adam and Eve

"Adam," said Eve, "Leave off me, will ya?
If you don't cease this, I'll have to kill ya."
But Adam persisted: she did what she could.
She socked him a left hook, and got him right good.
So she left poor old Adam all done in and bleedin':
No more daughters of Eve, no more children of Eden.
The human race ended before it began.
And the world was protected from awful old Man.
The monkeys lived merry in polygamous joy
And never made much of that old girl-meets-boy.
No wars and no famines, no Tesco's or Blair,
And no Hallmark card nonsense to bring us despair.
If this don't win sausages, I don't know what will.
Bring on the ketchup, let me in for the kill.

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