Tag Archives: Romance

I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For

I brought a dozen roses,

A diamond, and a kitten

To serenade by starlight

The lass with whom I’m smitten.

I sang “Every Breath You Take”

To my very special girl.

Then she locked me in her laser sights

And sang me “Goodbye Earl.”

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And Don’t Even Get Me Started On The Necking…

If I were a turtle

I would be more fertile.

I’d have more girl turtles to court.

Also nothing but fertile

Rhymes well with turtle

And turtles don’t care if you’re short.

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Not Your Average Love

She was a starving art history student,

Forced by fate towards whatever was prudent,

Yet she had a temptation she could not evade…

A man, in a sense, who with her heart played.

He was the Egyptian God of the dead,

With unlimited power and an animal’s head,

Yet despite devestation he doled out at will

His heart had an urge that he just couldn’t kill.

Her focus was on just money and Monet.

All of existence was under his sway.

She spent her days in the study of cubists.

He spent his evenings just being Anubis.

Somehow the two met at a holiday party.

She thought him a bad boy. He thought her a smarty.

The exchanged numbers and met up for brunch.

She loved his mystique. He loved how her bones crunch.

Yet, deep as their love was, they each said good bye

For they’d not live together unless she would die.

So ends the tale of this starcrossed romance

Of a girl and a God, both with un-gotten-into-pants.

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…In All The Wrong Places

Her skin was pale as moonlight,

Here eyes were bright like glass.

Who would’ve thought I’d find a girlfriend

At my taxidermy class?

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Princes Need Rescuing Too

All day in the stables
Fighting straw dummies,
Shining our armor,
And tending our steeds
Preparing to rescue
Some distressing damsel
Who hasn’t a care
That we also have needs.

We wake in the morning
All strong and handsome
To work for the purpose
Of rescuing you,
But have you considered
In your captivity
That princes need rescuing too?

We put on brave faces
And ride o’er the kingdom
To locate princesses
Who’ll soon be our wives.
Thus is our duty,
Our privilege as princes,
And the entire purpose
Of our royal lives.

We wake in the morning
All strong and handsome
Thinking of ways
To be noble and true,
But have you considered
In your captivity
That princes need rescuing too?

Out broad shoulders need to be cried on.
Our arms need somebody to hold.
We need your assurance that love will be ours
When we’re fat, wrinkled, pervy, and old.

And so we will ride o’er the kingdom
With our perfectly coiffed princely do,
With the hope that we’ll save
The darlings we crave
Who know princes need rescuing too.

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Wherein The Poet Gets The Girl (The Only Realistic Scenario)

I fell in love just ten hours ago
To, literally, the girl of my dreams.
We met while in prison and she kissed me so loud
That the guards thought the sound was a scream.

So they took her away and apparently killed her.
They fed her to Jabba the Hutt.
You can see why the dreamland convict I was
Felt like I’d been shanked in the gut.

And later I learned I’d inherited money
To pay off my million dollar “bounty.”
So I paid it and left, absolved for my theft
And fled to a different county.

There I met my love, alive and well
And we lived happily as we could have been.
Sometimes a poet need not be creative.
He need only remember his dreams.

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