Poetry to make you smile and maybe laugh

It's the little things you (don't) do.

Why do I love you?
God only knows
You don’t buy me chocolates
I’ve never had a rose.
You don’t paint the hallway
Or unblock the sink.
It’s been twenty years
Since you bought me a drink.
My friends say ‘Leave him’
But I can’t agree.
I love you so much
Because you love me.
You do don’t you?

Poetry of numbers

when you multiply a number by ten – write a nought on the end, and put down your pen

2 x 10 = 20

when you multiply a number by one – write the number as it was, your job is done.

2 x 1 = 2

when you multply a number by nine
multiply by ten , subtract the number from the result and you’ll do just fine.

2 x 9 = 18

eg. 2 x 10 ---> 20 – 2 ---> 18

Multiplying by eleven can be done with ease just write the digit twice – a total breeze!

2 x 11 = 22

But to multiply by eleven a number greater than ten, you split the number apart to leave an empty space, add the beginning and the end to get the middle place!

23 x 11 = 253

eg. 23 -----> 2 3 ----> 2+3 = 5 ---> 2 5 3

........................................ [___]

Friends Reunited.

We were friends for a very long time
until you stole that boy of mine.
I wanted to scream and scratch out your eyes
and other things not half as nice.

I dreamed of dancing on your grave
watching you drown in a tidal wave.
I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me,
I wanted it so much I couldn't eat my tea.

Then he dumped you - what a laugh.
You cried in Maths and smudged your graph.
You cried in Geog and wet your map
I felt so glad I wanted to clap.

A week's gone by, enough's enough
it's time to stop taking it all so rough.
Let's go out and just go mad,
but remember - keep your mits off my new lad.

Loves Labours Cost.

I fell in love when I was ten
With a boy who owned a fountain pen.
At twenty wiser much by far
I loved a man who owned a car.
At twenty three I ditched the louse
For a better prospect with a house.

But my last love died and I’m saying ‘When’.
after him I will seek no other men.
I won't look for a bloke his worldly goods to share,
there's no need my last was a millionaire.

Water puddle lies
rainbow swirling reflections
bright impurities
zest and fun to jazz my eyes
harmlessly the puddle lies.

An experimental post.

Food,
good

food cheap,
food tasty,

Food
nice

Food
spice

Food
hot

Food
cold

Food new
Food
Old.

Eat, enjoy.
Spam sandwiches.

Cauliflower Soup c'est delicieuse.

The humble cauliflower is often overlooked,
it can be found extremely bland
served plain and overcooked.

But years ago I tasted soup served in the South of France,
Called just 'potage' I asked for the recipe, they said 'not a chance'.
(Well actually it was something very negative in French )
It took me years of trying to reproduce that soup.
I tried a gazillion receipts and jumped through culinary hoops.

Until inspiration hit me and I used the blanc chouffleur,
chucked in the pressure cooker for ten minutes not an heure,
Eventually added les ognions, et des pommes de terres
with three small cloves of garlic I was very nearly there.

A knob of butter added and dill to add je ne sais quoi,
some salt and a bit of pepper and je me dit 'Voila!'

But the very secret thing that I only worked out yesterday,
was to use the bit of the cauli - I usually throw away.
When I used the curds the texture was grainy and not 'just so',
yesterday I just used the leaves and stalk, and that's the way to go.

So serve a soup so delicious it makes your diners weep,
and tastes as if you spent a fortune on it - though you know it was very cheap.
Tell them it's a secret recipe - from the South of France,
when they ask you to tell them it, tap your nose and say 'not a chance'.

It also works with children who are fussy about their food,
they lap it up though its full of veg and say 'it's very good!'

The certainty of banana_the_poet

I am bananas.
I am not very fond of Wendy Cope.

I am not Wendy Cope.
I am very fond of bananas.

I am bananas of Wendy Cope.
I am not very fond.

Fond bananas 'I am, I am'-
Not very Cope of Wendy.

Not fond of 'Wendy Cope?
Am I?'- very bananas? Am I?.

Bananas Wendy of Cope!
Am I not fond? Am I very?

Wendy Cope! I am not.
I am fond of'very bananas.'

I am of very fond bananas.
Not Wendy Cope am I.

With major apologies to Wendy Cope. Who is a very famous poet and way beyond my humble irreverent attempts. Someone who actually could have been Poet Laura if she had wanted to be - and if she had been called Laura
To read the original and better version which inspired this mediocre comedy copy please Google 'The Uncertainty of The Poet' by Wendy Cope. Better still look for her on Amazon and buy a collection of her works.

My husband asked me "Why don't you make pancakes like my Mummy?

Hers were brown and delicious and sweet and yummy"

judging by the number of mine that went into his tummy,

I thought he'd liked mine well enough, but they still could be more scrummy.

The secret ingredient that helped my pancakes to be tops,

turned out to be currants so I popped down to the shops,

bought some dried currants and sprinkle them into the cooking batter.

Its the little things you do for them that tells your men they matter.

So try some currants and see if you agree, that its a way to sweeten the currant economy.

To be sung to the tune of Golden Brown by The Stranglers.

Pancake for PM - a recipe for success?

Golden Brown texture like sun,
crisp and round, everyone loves him,

he's a pancake, not on the take,
not a tosser but tossed - is Golden Brown.

Golden Brown for our PM
Popular with women and men

He's a pancake. Make no mistake,
Never a frown with Golden Brown.

Takes the heat, copes with a panning,
He's so sweet, no scheming or planning.

He's not one to skive, we'd eat him alive,
taste of the town - it's Golden Brown.

Based on my statistics for my blog, it appears to be beyond doubt that pancakes are far more popular with the public than Gordon Brown is.

So I wondered whether we ought to have a pancake as our Prime minister?

Then a poem emerged. Or more accurately a song.

Here are my actual food recipes and pancake poems.

Pauper's budget but Millionaire's tastes?

Try this delicious indulgent recipe with pancakes.

What you need to buy in, if you don't already have some:

A small jar of Lidl Lumpfish Roe caviar- either black or red. About 3 quid a jar I think and you don't use it all in this recipe. Or if you are in Greece you can use taramasalata which is even cheaper and just as nice.
Lidl smoked salmon.
A squeezy bottle of lemon juice.
Freshly crushed black pepper.
Tub of Greek yoghurt, or fromage frais or quark.

First:
Use my pancake poem recipes and make some pancakes,

Next:
Place a small pile of smoked salmon in the centre of each pancake
Then squueze a small splash of lemon juice onto the fish followed by some freshly ground black pepper.
Drop a dollop of Greek yoghurt on top and garnish with the 'caviar' of your choice.

Roll up for neater eating.

This is something I used to make when I was a student and felt like spoiling myself with a foody treat. If you have it as a meal (2 of these are very filling) it isn't going to break the bank. When millionaires eat these they use Beluga Caviar from Russia, and have tiny little pancakes they call 'blini'. But this is an excellent taste sensation for people who like smoked salmon and zingy salty flavours. If you want, you can leave out either the salmon or the caviar and that still gives you a great flavour hit and reduces the initial spend by about 3 quid.

If you used all the salmon and all the caviar and all the yoghurt, you could do about 2 pancakes each for 4 people.

If you wanted to impress a loved one you could team it with a well chilled bottle of champagne - you can even buy those quite cheaply in Lidl if you watch out for the offers. I used to get a bottle for around seven pounds, I don't think they are much more now.

With Shrove Tuesday tomorrow it was perhaps inevitable that an eager scientist would apply their skills to creating the perfect pancake. Maths expert Dr Ruth Fairclough stepped up to the challenge, unveiling a complex algebra formula to help chefs nail the dish on the day.

According to Dr Fairclough from Wolverhampton University
100 - [10L - 7F + C(k - C) + T(m - T)]/(S - E),
But it's much easier if you just follow my pancake poem recipe,
Pop along to my previous post and see how easy it can be.

For those allergic to sums, believe me chums it's easy as A,B,C.

I never thought I'd write a poem with a pancake and algebra in it!!!

I decided to write a post that was all in rhyme. Not really a poem, I can't do that all the time. But just to write something interesting for better or worse, that would all be in rhyme if not actually verse.

I've been having a glitch when I try to write, it's got so bad I can't sleep well at night. I live in a wonderful beautiful place, and walk around with a huge smile on my face. But I can't help wonder should I write more serious stuff? Is writing silly poetry really enough? But the more I ponder, dither and think, the more and more my writing stinks.

I need to relax and not try and force it, let it run flowing as if out of a tap,
in American tap is called a faucet, I'm sure by now I'd be useless at rap.
So that's the end of this experimental blog,
you might like to print it out and use it in the bog.

Putting the mess into message, the mental into experimental, and the 'OH' into poetry.

Birthday Rhyme for Dakota Fanning.

Dakota Fanning never gets a panning,
she's a great actor through and through,
Only fifteen today with a career spanning,
longer than you'd expect someone's that young to.

ImDb lists 37 characters she's played,
an incredible body of work,
Consistent acting of way above top grade.
She doesn't know the meaning of 'shirk'.

I hope she has a rest today and has a lovely time,
and I wish her "Happy Birthday" in this rather silly rhyme.

Pancakes, crisp and pancakes hot, whether they're crepes or whether they're not.

I mix some milk with the right amount of flour,
then a little sugar, salt and an egg, then it sits for an hour,

The pan is lightly coated with a film of olive oil,
I let it get very hot, the smoke begins to roil,
Then I pour a little batter to make a round,
waiting for the underneath to crisp and brown.

I never toss my pancakes, it sounds quite rude,
I just flip them over once and serve them to my brood.
With butter, or honey, or home made jam,
or sometimes with melted cheese and salt cured ham.

However you enjoy them, whatever your way,
I hope you enjoy your pancakes on pancake day.

Pancake day for 2009 is on February 24th - have fun

The poetry of cheap food.

I'm not rich or posh,
I like crisps and orange squash.

Make your own and save a heap
homemade stuff is nice and cheap

Here's the link to my post on how to make your own crisps and squash.

I always think crisps and squash taste much nicer when they are fresh, free of chemicals and you hardly spent any money on them

Make your own crisps and orange/lemon squash and popcorn.

I just wanted to share these frugal tips because it surprised me how easy it was.

Making your own crisps is easy. Get 1 medium sized potato and using a sharp potato peeler (the sort that looks like a prong with a blade between its forks works best) peel very thin slices off the potato into a bowl lined with kitchen paper.

When you have finished you will be left with a bowl full of something that looks like you should throw it away. Don't. Even the little thin bits are all good.

In a high sided frying pan heat olive oil (that's the sort I can get hold of here in Greece and it works brilliantly but probably it will work with others as well) until the oil looks thin (when you put it into the pan it is oily and thick) and runny and starts to look less yellow. Drop one of the pieces of potato into the hot oil. If you have peeled the potato thin enough it won't splash, just fall like an autumn leaf and start to crisp up. You don't want the oil too deep, about a quarter of a centimetre.

If it is working then add one by one other pieces until you feel there are enough for you to deal with in one time.

You should have set up another bowl with kitchen roll next to the hob and have some long handled implements to turn the crisps over one at a time. It all happens quite quickly. The crisps turn into hard crisps fast ( you can smell them, yum) and you need to scoop them out and put them on the kitchen roll to dry. Then as you remove the cooked hard crisps, add more raw floppy ones until you have done the whole batch.

As long as you keep the pan full of cool raw crisps the heat stays fairly stable. If the crisps are getting too brown too quickly turn the heat down.

One medium potato will make the equivalent of two big family bags of crisps. You can flavour them to suit. in small batches if people have different preferences. Onion powder and finely grated parmesan (or cheddar) gives cheese n onion. Oregano and salt gives you the lovely Greek flavour, or you can use sweet paprika which is great. or you could use a small amount of finely crushed organic beef or chicken stock cube. If you have a cajun squirrel to hand you could try that.

Make your own Orange or lemon Squash

I tried this when we hadn't any orange juice and only 1 big orange and 3 people wanted a drink!!!

Squeeze the orange (or lemon) and scoop out the squashed pulp with a spoon.

Put the pulp and juice into a pan with a hefty amount of sugar (about a tea cup full) top with about one and a half pints of water (if you use less you will just need to dilute more afterwards if you use more you won't have to dilute so much). Heat rapidly until the sugar has all melted and it is sending steam off. Don't boil. But if it does it will still taste ok just the vitamin c will have been reduced.

Pour through a strainer into jugs to cool (or anything else ) when cool keep in a bottle in the fridge. Dilute to taste. I have no idea how long it will keep, we drank all ours in 2 days flat.

make your own popcorn.

You just need a tall heavy based pan with a lid and some oven gloves.

Put a teaspoon of olive oil into the bottom of a pan and chuck enough hard popcorn corns to have a layer of one corn without stacking on the bottom. (that is the maximum you can put less if you want).

Put the lid on and put the pan on a hot hob. If the lid is clear you can watch the corn popping. If the lid is a bit light you might want to hold it on. Carefully pick the pan up and give it a bit of a shake to let the unpopped corn fall to the bottom and put it back on the hob.

When the corn popping noise slows take the pan off the heat and let it sit until the popping noise stops completely.

Then dish it out.

Be careful with hot things and remember if you get a splash of hot fat on you - run it under the cold tap for ten (YES TEN) minutes immediately until it is almost too cold to bear - that will stop the burn being too bad. Then put tea tree oil on it - if you aren't allergic. if you need to do this turn the hob off first. Or you could be like me and grit your teeth because you are darned if you are going to be burned and let the crisps spoil as well But then you end up with a nasty burn that takes a couple of weeks to heal up.

Sorry this isn't a poem post. But the food tastes like a flavour poem if you get it right.

"Lessons have been learned." "Lessons have been learned."

Innocents are stabbed and raped, children have been burned,

yet still towards a blackboard are the social workers turned,

they have no time to save us, all our cries to them are spurned,

they just repeat the mantra chalked there "Lessons have been learned."

banana_the_poet

Not funny, but just thought it needed to be said.

Gordon you're 58 today
I hope that you aren't sad
You tried to get rid of boom and bust
guess one out of two's not bad.*

*Not bad in a statistical sense. In a practical sense it is plainly disastrous, but it is his birthday today so let's not be (labour) party poopers.

The full monty poem composed in advance for the 20th February in honour of our Prime Minister Gordon Brown can be found here

Who does Gordon Brown share his 58th birthday with? (here's the link to his own personal birthday poem which I am rather pleased with)

Now here's another truly awful celebrity birthday poem to make your ears bleed and your brain need a bath

Rihanna is 21 today, she's been having a really tough time
and lovely Cindy Crawford is 43
Patty Hearst is 55 and has paid for her 'crime'
and Ivana Trump has reached 60!

Happy birthday to these golden folk, and also to Gordon Brown who's trying hard the poor bloke

Gordon Brown born 20th February 1951

Gordon Brown as a Pisces?
Who would have guessed a fishy sign for this Scot?
But 'detached & impractical, gullible & lazy'
may well apply or may not.
'Easy going', 'accepting','neglectful' and 'passive'
are other words matched with this sign.
That may or may not be your take, but whatever you say,
I can't say if it's not or is mine.
Poet, writer or actor,social worker or model
just a few Piscean jobs he could do,
but he chose politician - a job suited for villains,
why he did so, I haven't a clue.
So Happy Birthday to Gordon Brown,
that noise you hear's not London Bridge
but the UK falling down.

I suppose I can wave 'bye 'bye to ever getting poet laureate now

Pisces (The Fish) (mutable, water, universal): Keyword: "I believe". The Pisces person is compassionate, empathic, imaginative, sensitive, mystical, spiritual, dreamy, passive, easy-going, idealistic, visionary, inspirational, accepting, undiscriminating, charitable, believes in soul growth, self-sacrificing and artistic. They can also sometimes be distracted, detached, illusory, impractical, gullible, neglectful, escapist and lazy. Suitable occupations are where compassionate and intuitive qualities are needed; such as caring for the sick, needy and animals, religious, social workers, hospitals and institutions, poets, writers, actors, psychics, and models. In medical astrology Pisces governs the feet and immune system. In astrology Pisces is ruled by the planets Jupiter and Neptune. The sun sign dates for Pisces are February 20 — March 20. The water form of Pisces is the ocean.
The above excerpt is from Wikipedia.

For what you are about to read I am truly truly sorry.
Read February 19th celebrity birthday poem about Hemingway,Robinson,Daniels,Copernicus

Hint - it's brown...

well that's not really a hint. It's the answer - it's Brown - Gordon Brown.
Oh I hope I can do him justice in the awful celebrity birthday poem tomorrow.
Any suggestions?

I suppose you all know 'what's brown and steams and comes backwards out of cows'

answer 'the Isle of Wight Ferry.'

OK it's Cowes really works better out loud rather than written down.

and 'what's brown and sounds like a bell?'

'Dung!!!'

Margaux Hemingway is 53 I can't believe that's right.

Smokey Robinson 68 made The Tracks of my Tears

Jeff Daniels starred, wrote and directed Escanaba in da Moonlight

Copernicus if he was still alive would be 535 years.

On February 19th these celebrities share their birthday,
Three cheers for them whatever their years, hip, hip hooray!

I will be doing a celebrity birthday poem every day now. Please forgive me for this crime against poetry. I feel dirty and ashamed and need to wash a lot. But I will keep on doing it just the same. Bad, bad, bad banana

Swearing isn't big and it certainly isn't clever
XXXXXXXXXXX you're a potty mouth
I found out from a bird of a feather.

They say you're like a porn star
they aren't talking about your kn*b
they are talking about the filth
that comes out of your gob.

I'm writing this because
I have a small child of my own
a gentle pure and sensitive
angelic cherub clone.

He says that you're his friend
and I have to say I'm shocked
for it looks as though you shoot your mouth off
constantly half cocked.

I'm very nearly done now
I have to say I'm saddened
but I've changed the names in this poem
or my cherub will be maddened.

Curse Bird is a website where you can go to monitor the level of swearing on Twitter. Do not click the link unless you don't mind seeing a lot of very strong swear words.

On Curse Bird you can enter the Twitter name of someone and see what their Cursing rank is for example wossy(Jonathan Ross) has a description "swears like a Drunken Sailor" and Ranked: 48,035th worldwide Swears: 4 Score: 79 of 100

The poem above was written after checking out a friend of my son's Twitter name - he got the worst possible designation of "swears like a porn star" !!!!!

stephenfry (Stephen Fry) "swears like a Children’s TV Presenter" (bless) with only one recorded swear word.

banana_the_poet (yours truly) "swears like a mute" - in other words I haven't sworn yet on Twitter. I usually tweet poetry and can't spare the space for swear words.

Molly Ringwald was Pretty in Pink and now she's 41,

John Travolta is 55 today but only recently lost his son ,

Matt Dillon 45 was in Mr Wonderful a favourite film of mine

Cybill Shephard who was great in Moonlighting - is unbelievably 59!

Four celebrities who have their birthday today, I hope this year will bring good things their way.

Being a celebrity is no guarantee of happiness. I hope this year is a better one for all these people than the one that has preceded it.

Super Sexy Syllables.

I had a speech impediment
it wasn't very big
but I couldn't say trees,
and so instead I said twig.

I avoided saying s's
wherever I could
I never found things excellent
but often said "Hmm Good"

I mostly managed to hide it
it was touch and go
But I couldn't say "Yes"
I was always saying "No".

Then I had an operation
to fix my broken mouth
and for the very first time ever
I went on holiday to"The South".

A poem about the benefits of maxillofacial surgery.

We open the paper to read our horoscope
and sometimes we believe it
It's lots of fun and and it gives us hope
just when we really need it.

Once it said that 'the moon is in uranus'
luckily that wasn't true
for it wouldn't fit and would surely have pained us
whenever we tried to poo.

Another astrological poem.

A birthday poem for Pisceans according to astrology.

Pisces. February 20 - March 20

Pisces is the sign of the poet
visionary sensitive fishes
they sense a thing rather than know it
and help others get their wishes.

Neptune and Jupiter their planetary guides,
they're good with animals and often like to ride.
So happy birthday Pisces,
you have more virtues than vices.

I hope this birthday poetry based on the astrological characteristic of Aquarius will be appreciated by Pisceans everywhere.

A birthday poem for Aquarians according to astrology.

Aquarius. January 2- - February 19

Apparently Aquarians
are objective & humanitarian,
unconventional and detached
with intellect unmatched.

Their planets are Saturn and Uranus
their medical spheres include the veinous,
So happy birthday Aquarius,
you have gifts that are many and various.

I hope this birthday poetry based on the astrological characteristic of Aquarius will be appreciated by Aquarians everywhere. Sorry if I missed your birthday, but there's still time for a few of you

One Man's Keats...

When I was young me and my mates
got confused between Keats and Yeats.

We rhymed Keats with hates
and Yeats with heats,
Despite their differing traits.

What really happened on Valentine's day.

He didn't get me a card,
he didn't buy me a gift,
he didn't give me compliments
to make my spirits lift.

When I woke up he didn't greet me with a cup of tea,
If I wanted to celebrate Valentine, it was down to me.

I didn't get him a card,
I didn't get him a gift.
But I didn't complain about him
or tell him his feet niffed.

In the shape of little hearts, I fried his eggs and toast,
then sulked all day so he'd realise that I love him the most.

I wanted to write a poem that describes the sort of Valentine's day I usually experience. So here it is in glorious technicolor poetry - all the gory details.

Woman to Man.

If I were you and you were me
What a change there would be.
If you were me and I were you
I would have the nicer view.

Valentine Promise.

It may be Friday the 13th but don't worry my ducky.
Whatever happens today, tomorrow you'll be lucky.
For I have plans that you and I will be getting good and mucky.

Hope or belief?

Today is Friday the 13th, unlucky so they say,
tomorrow is Feb the 14th and that's St Valentine's Day.

Some folk reject superstition, with it they hold no truck,
But tomorrow's the day, whatever they say, they hope they'll be
.
.
.
in luck.

Tomorrow is Friday which is usually good.
I like Fridays , Fridays don't suck.
But Friday 13 is understood,
as the harbinger of bad luck.

Now believing in luck is no bad thing
if used in a positive way.
But obsessing and angsting can only bring
you trouble on any day.

Some people go with their hearts not heads,
and try some good luck charms.
Others rely on just staying in bed
in the hope that'll keep them from harm.

To help I send you my very best thoughts
and my hopes for a lovely day.
May this Friday 13 be a day of the sort
where just good things come your way.

A poem for anxious worriers who are concerned about Friday the Thirteenth.

How do I love you? Let me count the ways :

I love you when you're grumpy and your sense of humour's gone,
even then I still love you and I carry on.

I love you when your smile is sad,
'cos you've just had news and the news is bad.

I love you when you make your awful jokes,
even when I have to spend a weekend with your folks.

I love you when you're ill in bed,
and you act as though you're nearly dead.

I love you however you may be,
because you're you and you're kind to me.

So those are just a few of the ways,
that I'll show my love for you 'til the end of our days.

I wrote one proper romantic Valentine poem - for the real softies out there (like me)

Someone I know joined Facebook
she wanted lots of friends
and now she has thousands
her excitement never ends.

But when her cat needs minding
or she wants a cup of tea
her Facebook friends are never there
and so she calls on me.

It should be called Face Spotter,
for collecting names in files,
is a little like train spotting
without the need to travel miles.

Or even Face collecting,
for those who don't like stamps,
or keeping great big albums,
to be gazed at under lamps.

So if you are on Facebook
networking happily,
with virtual pals be they guys or gals,
Say Hi to them from me.

I'm on Twitter.

A few clicks of the mouse, and internet porn destroys yet another middle-class marriage... article on the daily mail - no explicit pictures or anything so don't worry.

My darling I love you very much,
but it feels as though we're out of touch.
It may be just inside my head,
but you rarely turn to me in bed.

I don't want to leave or have an affair,
but I'm feeling very neglected 'down there'
The credit crunch means I can't afford hookers,
so I'll just surf for porn and gaze at some lookers.

I'd rather spend time with you getting rude,
but I haven't a choice 'cos you're such a prude.
Please try to understand this need of mine,
I wish you'd be my sexy Valentine.

It's traditional on the day of St Valentine
to declare one's feelings in poem and rhyme,
After 20 years of marriage to you,
I thought it was time for me so to do.

My love is strong and never ending,
passionate and yet befriending,
I see faults as perfection and cherish every quirk,
problem is it's not you, but a woman at work.

Drink to me only...

You're the only one for me, believe me it's true
I see beyond the surface to what's great about you.
Please be my Valentine for although you are a chub,
you're the girl of my dreams, 'cos your father owns a pub.

Here's another mean Valentine poem.

You may have noticed me gazing,
across the history class,
and looking away when you glance at me,
and blushing when you pass.

I'm just sixteen, quite young and sweet,
my friends say I'm no hag,
But I've been shy and this is why,
I want to be your WAG.

Hello everybody

I cannot believe the visitor numbers to my blog over the last few days.

Only 24 off the 800 mark yesterday.

Awesome!

I'm busy writing more funny poems (well when I say busy I mean nipping over to the computer and typing as fast as I can when inspiration kicks in) and will be adding them as they pop into my head.

So when you read the new silly rhymes on this blog, you are one of the first people in the entire universe to see them.

But with these large numbers of visitors I thought I ought to make things clear with a quick note about these Valentine poems / rhymes.
These are all original and obviously copyrighted to me (as are all the other poems on my posts).
They are offered free for use by individuals who may wish to include them on personal greetings to their loved ones. They are not to be used for any commercial purposes, nor are they to be published online without being clearly attributed to this blog.

In other words - I'm all for the person in the street having fun with these, but ripping me off is forbidden.

have fun,

banana

I bought some sexy underwear
for my Valentine,
for to see my love clad in satin
is a fantasy of mine.

A push up bra, suspenders
and a teddy made of lace
I thought it would add a touch of spice,
but you should have seen his face!!!

Here are the permalinks to all the mean, funny, and surprising Valentine poems I've written so far on my blog.

Enjoy

Valentine poems for your loved one relating to their Job.

Mean but funny Valentine's poems, to tell them how you really feel

A Valentine for the Naughties - Single Mum anyone?

Valentine's Boob!

A quick note about these Valentine poems / rhymes.
These are all original and obviously copyrighted to me.
They are offered free for use by individuals who may wish to include them on personal greetings to their loved ones. They are not to be used for any commercial purposes, nor are they to be published online without being clearly attributed to this blog.

In other words - I'm all for the person in the street having fun with these, but ripping me off is forbidden.

Here's a short excerpt from my comic novel - One Piece at a Time.
This book is no longer available to read free online on Authonomy.

Miss Tweedle was wearing her second best cardigan and the amber necklace.  She sat on the edge of her swivelly chair with her legs crossed at the ankles and tucked slightly under her.  She had read somewhere that this was the most seductive pose in which a female could arrange herself when in the work place and yet avoid accusations of sexual harassment.   She leaned forward a bit more to see if her cleavage might be better presented that way and overbalanced.  The chair's wheels shot out behind her and she landed in a heap on the office carpet,  just as Julian walked in.

Julian didn't notice her on the floor at first as his attention been distracted by a seagull sitting on the telephone wires outside so he was looking up and across the office out of the window as he entered.  But he heard her say "Ow" very clearly, as she used that one syllable with good effect to indicate he was now standing on her hand.

He leapt back in a fluster as she clambered up red faced, dishevelled, with a dusty black mark on her second best cardigan - which was yellow and did nothing for her skin colouring even when she wasn't red as a beetroot.

"Are you OK?  I didn't mean to stand on you.  What were you doing down there anyway, did you faint?" he burbled to cover his and her embarrassment.  If eye twitching was an Olympic sport she could have taken Gold for her current ocular gymnastics.

"Yes I'm fine.  I slipped.  Nothing to worry about.  How silly of me.  Cup of tea? Coffee?"

He seized the opportunity to diffuse the situation.

"Great idea.  I'll go and get them.  Which do you want?"

It was only 10.30 and it wasn't encouraging to see Michaela Hunt already in the coffee shop nursing a large cup of something with a huge cake on a plate in front of her.  He nodded to her before ordering and paying for a strong black coffee for himself with extra sugar and no milk and a chamomile tea for Miss Tweedle.  He nodded again to her on his way back to Miss Tweedle's office, spilling some coffee onto his jacket as he did so.

Wonderful. Now he would smell awful all day.  Much as he liked coffee as a drink, he was acutely aware that the smell could very easily be mistaken for something else, also brown, also associated with a well regulated morning routine but not usually welcome in company. 

Miss Tweedle had regained the attitude that in her body's lexicon substituted for composure.  She had given up her attempt at vamping Julian without much of an internal struggle.  She hadn't expected to be successful and in any case what on earth would she have done with him if it had worked? 

The ease with which the administrator abandoned challenges as soon as they presented themselves had been a hallmark of her successful managerial career.  It meant that she never became associated with failure, for any potential failure was so swiftly shelved or passed on to someone else that people barely had time to register it had ever entered her domain.  Miss Tweedle strongly believed in playing to her strengths and if her biggest strength was her weakness then so be it.  read more

If you enjoyed the quirky films Back to the Future, The Santa Clause, Sliding Doors, Shallow Hal, The Lake House,Premonition,Bedtime Stories or Click (in other words unusual storyline with a bit of outside the box strangeness mixed in) then you should enjoy the funny novel - One Piece at a Time.

One Piece at a Time - the only way to change anything, when everything needs to be changed.

A modern Valentine for the naughties.

I want to have your baby,
you make me feel like heaven,
I think that you might be the one,
to father number seven.
Don't tell me that this feeling's wrong,
because I know it's right,
so take your trousers off my dear,
and stay with me tonight.

This Valentine's day why not tell them how you really feel

My darling you have lovely teeth
and I like your chin placed underneath.
Your eyes are limpid like a pool
your lips are sweet like strawberry fool.
As girlies go you are top rate,
but I'm much more keen on your best mate.

You are my bloke and I'm your girl,
our relationship's been a bit of a whirl.
I wanted to tell you on this day
although I love you, I'm afraid I'm gay.

I've loved you for a very long time,
and I wanted to put my thoughts in rhyme.
Here's one thing that I wanted to say
You're an ugly bugger, but I love you anyway.

Yes you're fat and yes you smell,
Yes our life together's hell,
but you and I belong together
like a Duck's bottom belongs with a feather.

We aren't celebs and We haven't any dosh
I'm not Becks and you're not Posh,
But I really really love you to bits
and you don't need to spend a fortune on your t*ts.

Here are some funny Valentine poems I wrote for various types of jobs your Valentine may have.

If your Valentine has a job that isn't covered here - there is time for you to request some silly poetry to be written for you to use in your card.

OK here goes - warning - very silly and some of them have some very corny double entendres

Valentine for a Baker.
I think about you every hour,
you must have some kind of flour power,
I love you so much I just wanted you to know,
and it's not just because you have lots of dough.

Valentine for a Butcher.
You're my cheeky little chicken,
my tasty, beefy, golden prince
I've longed to somehow meat you,
from the moment I first saw your mince.

Valentine for an Electrician.
Watt makes me love Joule, my resistance may be low?
There's an electric force you emanate and I can't let you go.
When our eyes meet my heart beats with such velocity,
that Ohm my dear it Hertz me.

Valentine for a Banker.
Here's my latest statement "you're my honey,
 and I love you" and though it may seem funny,
I've extended you a ginormous line of credit,
so you need never bank again, 'cos you've got me - geddit?

Valentine for a Doctor.
Love has given me a fever,
don't turn me down and cause a chill,
you'll find I'm a very patient lover,
and there's always the morning after pill.

Valentine for a Dentist.
I'm captivated by your shiny excavator,
something about you impacted me and gave me a thrill.
Let's not fight these first impressions,
C'mon babe you know the drill.

Valentine for a Teacher.
Mark my words, I love you so
and I just wrote these lines to let you know.
You're the top of my league tables - it's you I select,
plus my heart is safe with you - 'cos you're CRB checked.

Valentine for a Policeman.
I love you my boy in blue,
please join me for a luncheon.
I promise I'll come quietly,
but you may require your truncheon.

Google kills Bambi's Mother - a Lament

Oh deer what could the matter be?
Google smashed right into and splattered me.
Won't be jay walking on any more Saturdays
'cos I'm up in heaven somewhere.

I was just standing quietly watching the world go by,
Who knew that it was the moment for me to die?
Couldn't even wave to my Bambi and say goodbye,
but everyone knows I was there.

The last thing to go through the poor deer's mind - apart from the hood of the van of course

There's a theory down at the forum
of why it's going slow.
I think it's because it's got so cold
the slush has turned to snow.

No more wading through the damp stuff
to see what they can see.
The editors have put their goggles on
and decided to have a ski.

It's lots of fun on the mountainside
with happy cries and calls
and in between the slaloming
they get to throw snow balls.

We'll have to wait until the thaw
and it all turns back to slush.
Just fingers crossed it won't get too warm
and cause a torrential rush.