Love Poems :
Amusing or Sad?

 Amusing :

The Fat Lady's Request :

I, too, will disappear, will, Escape into centuries of darkness,
Come here and give me a cuddle, sit on my lap and give me a hug,
While we are still both enjoying this mysterious whirling planet,
And, if you find me fat, you find me, Also, easy to find, very easy to find.
©Joyce la Verne

Bloody Men :
Bloody men are like bloody buses, you wait for about a year,
And as soon as one approaches your stop, two or three others appear,
You look at them flashing their indicators, offering you a ride,
You're trying to read the destinations, you haven't much time to decide,
If you make a mistake, there's no turning back, Jump off, and you'll stand there and gaze,
While the cars and the taxis and lorries goe by,
and the minutes, the hours, the day.
©Wendy Cope

I'm Really Very Fond :
I'm really very fond of you, he said,
I don't like fond, it sounds like something you would tell a dog.
Give me love or nothing.
Throw your fond in a pond, I said.
©Alice Walker

Proposal :
Let's fall in love - in our mid thirties, It's not only where the hurt is.
I won't get smashed up, should you go away for weekends - we both know
No, two people can be completely all-sufficient, but twice weekly,
We'll dine together, split the bill, Admire each other's wit. We will,
Be splendid lovers, slow, well trained,
Tactful, gracefully unrestrained.
You'll keep your flat, and I'll keep mine.
Our bank accounts shall not entwine.
We'll make the whole thing hard and bright,
We'll call it love - we may be right.
©Tom Vaughan

Giving Up Smoking :
There's not a Shakespeare sonnet, Or a Beethoven quartet,
That's easier to like than you, or harder to forget,
You think that sounds extravagent? I haven't finished yet,
I like you more than I would like to have a cigarette.
©Wendy Cope

What It Is :
It is madness, says reason,
It is what it is, says love.
It is unhappiness, says caution,
It is nothing but pain, says fear,
It has no future, says insight,
It is what it is, says love.
It is ridiculous, says pride,
It is foolish, says caution,
It is impossible, says experience,
It is what it is, says love.
©Eric Fried

Go To Bed With A Cheese & Pickle Sandwich :
Go to bed with a cheese and pickle sandwich - it is life enhancing.
It doesn't chat you up - you have to make it.
A cheese and pickle sandwich is never disappointing,
You don't lie there thinking; Am I too fat? Too insecure? Too fertile?
Your thoughts are clear - your choices simple,
to cut it in half, or not to cut it in half,
How thin to slice the cheese, and where you should place the pickle.
From a cheese and pickle sandwich you do not expect flowers,
poems, words of love, and acts of adoration.
You expect what you get - cheese ..... and pickle.
You want, you eat, and afterwards - you have eaten.
No lying awake resentful, listening to it snore.
Safe snacks. It comes recommneded.
©Mandy Coe

Loss :
The day he moved out was terrible, that evening she went through hell.
His absence wasn't a problem, but the corkscrew had gone as well......
©Wendy Cope


Sad :

Funeral Blues :
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone.
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum, bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead, scribbling on the sky, the message He Is Dead.
Put crepe bows around the white necks of of the public doves, Let the traffice policemen wear black cotton gloves
He was my north, my south, my east and west, my working week, my sunday rest,
My moon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now, put out every one; Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun.
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood; for nothing now can ever come to any good.
© W H Auden

Unfortunate Coincidence :
By the time you swear you're his, shivering and sighing,
And he vows, his passion is, infinite, undying -
Lady, make a note of this -
One of you is lying.
© Dorothy Parker

Successfully Single :
Eating alone
my alphabet soup
speaks to me.
© Brenda S Duster

Love After Love :
The time will come, when, with elation, you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror, and each will smile at the other's welcome.
And say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine, give bread, give back your heart to itself, to the stranger who has loved you,
All your life, whom you ignored for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf, the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror. Sit. Feast on your life.
© Derek Walcott