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How I Do Love Thee (Terrible Poetry)

February 3, 2020

If you’ve ever wanted to write a terrible poem while feeling somewhat romantic then you’re in luck because this month Chelsea says,

“…the Topic is LOVE LOVE LOVE! Write me a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad sonnet. Give me alliterations, adjectives, allegories, and aneurysms. Keep the Length long enough to capture your love’s interest without putting her to sleep. Rhyming? Up to you, but I recommend you do. Make it terrible! Cupid needs to pull out the real arrows after catching wind of your attempts.”

To share your terribleness, or to read someone else’s terrible poems, just go here.

= = = =

How I Do Love Thee

Do I love thee, you really want to know?
Like those idyllic, serene summer days,
when I see your face I begin to glow,
for in truth your face looks like mayonnaise.
As I stare deeply at your sleeping eyes
I wonder just what the hell I’m doing.
I think about my friends, those lucky guys
and wonder if another wife I shouldn’t be pursuing.

I can’t write you a sonnet. I can’t even kiss you. Specifically speaking: no serenely stormy split second spit-sticking smack on the shoulder. Nay, you naughty nonsignificant, knotty-nosed, norepinephrine-needing nudnik. Never no nibbles upon thine neck.

Forsooth (for anyone if soothe isn’t available) free me from this foul fraudulence.

Alas, you stir and turn your black orbs, dripping with eye boogers and brimming with heated demonic lust to mine. Those haunted eyes that lured me to seemingly eternal wedded

bliss.

You part your pulpy lips, an invitation to one innocent sensual deep kiss
as sweet as molasses
Lost, I ignored what was amiss
and I find myself once again in . . .

. . . an abyss.

We part.
You smile.
I smile.

Your morning breath –
– ugh . . .

Good morning, my love.
Happy Valentine’s Day, my treasure.
Sleep well?
(No, not next to you) Next to you is there any other way?
My prince.
How I do love thee…

###

Note: this is not based on a true story.

2 Comments leave one →
  1. February 7, 2020 7:30 pm

    Fishman, this was awful. I was so close to picking yours…

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Michael B. Fishman permalink*
    February 14, 2020 3:52 pm

    Thank you, Chelsea. But by not being picked it makes me more terrible than those who were picked and I can live with that 🙂

    Like

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