Getting Tacky on Valentines Day

I know I already kind of wrote a Valentines Day entry by posting that Review article a couple of days ago, and I know that I personally have a few problems with the holiday (while all those advice columns are written with tongue in cheek I actually do agree with some of what I said this time), and, most importantly, I know I promised that this blog would be both treacle and poetry free, but..........well, I'm a rule breaker. What can I say?

I had to write a poem for class and since this whole blog was started as a way to inspire me to do more writing, I felt I might as well share it. Please forgive the repulsive amount of icky sentiment you're about to wade through.

A Love Story in Verse

Gentle reader, if you’d perchance to stay
And give me a couple minutes of your day
A story I’d love to now relay
Told through pleasant rhyme

A tale of that wonderful horrible sin
Known as ‘love’ to both men and women
And now, if you’ll allow me to begin
I’ll say ‘Once upon a time’

There was a boy of average genes
Not too short, or tall, or fat, or lean
Not really at all special by any means
Just typical like you or me

But there was one thing that set this boy apart
For he had gone and lost his heart
For a girl who was a piece of art
The most beautiful you could ever see

The most striking thing about this girl
Was her smile filled with twinkling pearl
That made you feel like the luckiest in the world
If it ever shone on you

And of this smile there was more
Because it often came before
Her infectious laugh came spilling forth
And sounded as sweet as dew

And her glistening eyes delicately round
Were like her hair a beautiful brown
And more wondrous than ever dreamed or found
By Van Morrison

Her body should never need to be
Described to my reader carefully
For you should care about her personality
But I’ll admit she was a perfect 10

And so this was the goddess of his desire
That filled his stomach with butterflies and heart with fire
That wore a face of which he’d never tire
For his love was true

But here a problem then arose
For, reader, how do you suppose
An average boy like this one goes
To a goddess with hopes to woo?

This would take much more than flowers
He’d need to summon up all his powers
And spend all of his waking hours
And come up with something soon

Suddenly with wondrous luck
A spark shone through his mind’s murky muck
As glorious inspiration struck
And he decided to write her a tune

She deserved a wondrous song
With Shakespeare words and Beowulf long
An orchestra to play along
But he had none of that

For all the things she did to he
Lyrics steeped in hyperbole
Are what he should write for she
But all his words fell flat

And the music was the hardest part
He wanted a piece straight from his heart
Notes that could be timeless art
From God to his fingers sent

But alack, alas, oh woe is he
For this simply would never be
Impossible most decidedly
For he knew no instrument

So he told his music all to hush
Tossed out his composition in a rush
Instead he picked up paper and brush
And tried to paint his muse

But he found to his dismay
As he mixed his colors a whole day
No shade would properly convey
Her skin’s translucent hues

So he eschewed music and paint
To find an other to create
Which he would present when proposing a date
With his most beauteous one

A poem, a statue, a three-course meal
A garden, a quilt, a spinning mobile
No project matched the girl’s natural feel
When they were finally done

So he moved from task to task
Occasionally looking up to God to ask
‘Why can’t I make some art that lasts
And does justice to my love?’

And he fell down in despair
Gnashing his teeth and ripping his hair
It seemed that God just didn’t care
For he received no sign from above

And when things descended to their worst
And he’d screamed every scream and cursed every curse
Drunk a bottle of gin to quench his thirst
A knock at the door he did hear

So our boy managed to gather himself up
And put down his alcohol reeking cup
Went to the door and opened it up
And standing there was his dear

She walked right in and looked and found
His failed love projects scattered around
Discarded, ripped, and tossed to the ground
Or crumpled to a ball

But they all merely made her groan
For his love for her she’d always known
But all she wanted from him was to grab a phone
And finally give her a call

She said, ‘I want no proclamation
No theatrical declaration
Or gesture set to orchestration
All I want is you’

And so our boy learned the fact
There was nothing his wooing lacked
For you need not put on some big act
When your love is true

And so the couple came to be
Together most inseparably
In love for all eternity
I promise you, my friends

So remember our hero’s folly-filled sport
How it proved a useless sort
And know that you need only love to court
And with that I say ‘The end.’

Again, I'm really sorry. I'm a self-aware sentimentalist which is the worst kind. It means I make myself gag.

If that poem didn't make you kill yourself, you get a prize. A slightly less painful look at romance, courtesy of The Jerk.

Happy Valentines Day!