Love Sonnets And Terrible Poetry

Warning: this is a tacky post with poems that, well, are terrible, except the first and I didn’t write that…

Willie Shakespeare had a way with Sonnets. As you do. One of his more famous ones was his 130th…

SONNET 130

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips’ red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask’d, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

So I thought, as you do, I’d have my own go at it. Which I did, a while ago…

And then Chelsea launched her latest Terrible Poetry Contest and I was reminded of mine because she wants Love Sonnets, terrible ones, and, well, really this has to fit the bill. Doesn’t it? Anyway, here’s my entry…

Only Skin Deep (After Sonnet 130*)

 

The azure of the wide Pacific seas

Has depth, unlike your bland insipid eyes.

A dancer’s legs are shaped by art to please

But yours are not for show, they need disguise.

My tongue, whose form can change to suit all tastes,

From gentle probe to pert, priapic beast,

Becomes a dry and flaccid thing, all chaste,

If suffocated by your doggy breath’s release.

Facial engineers, who can craft Kate Moss

From Quasimodo, turn and run a mile:

I’d give my soul to Satan, bear any loss

If they’d mould Venus from your Cubist smile.

Let’s face it, love, on me you’ve placed a hex:

It’s not your looks that bind us, just the sex.

and then I read a couple of Chelsea’s examples and, well, I decided to really let the side down with this (with due apologies to the Authors of the Book of Genesis) and took love as a verb not a noun…

It’s Really Not His Fault… 

 

It had been, for God one heck of a week

So in fairness we should let it pass

And forgive that Adam, His coup de grace

Could have done with the odd final tweak.

 

The papers focused their gaze on the Fall

And those pictures of Eve in the buff

Where instead they should have done their stuff

And told us of His mighty cock and ball.

 

For Adam shouldn’t have needed a stiffy

To get himself into a sweaty old state

Where his only urge was to copulate

And his end was always so sticky.

 

And all he was given to perform this role

Were balls in a bag and a bewrinkled pole…

 

and for inspiration, well I couldn’t do better than Robin Williams

About TanGental

My name is Geoff Le Pard. Once I was a lawyer; now I am a writer. I've published several books: a four book series following Harry Spittle as he grows from hapless student to hapless partner in a London law firm; four others in different genres; a book of poetry; four anthologies of short fiction; and a memoir of my mother. I have several more in the pipeline. I have been blogging regularly since 2014, on topic as diverse as: poetry based on famous poems; memories from my life; my garden; my dog; a whole variety of short fiction; my attempts at baking and food; travel and the consequent disasters; theatre, film and book reviews; and the occasional thought piece. Mostly it is whatever takes my fancy. I avoid politics, mostly, and religion, always. I don't mean to upset anyone but if I do, well, sorry and I suggest you go elsewhere. These are my thoughts and no one else is to blame. If you want to nab anything I post, please acknowledge where it came from.
This entry was posted in poems, poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

39 Responses to Love Sonnets And Terrible Poetry

  1. Darlene says:

    Very funny. Can’t beat Robin Williams too!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. My goodness me, Geoff. YOu have taken Chelsea’s competition to a new high, or low, depending on how you look at it.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. willowdot21 says:

    Okay, okay I am chocking now 💜💜

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I loathe all the schmucky stuff of Valentines Day – this puts it in its place 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  5. JT Twissel says:

    I think you’ve found your calling! Big smiles here!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. LOL. Wow, Geoff. Terrible poetry. You should feel so proud. I started laughing at “your doggy breath’s release” and didn’t stop until “balls in a bag and a bewrinkled pole.” Ha hahaha. Well done… I mean… terribly done!

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Robin Williams, such an incredible loss to the world. ☹️ Loved the sonnets, Geoff!!

    Liked by 1 person

  8. George says:

    Haha! Has the Textiliste read these?

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Elizabeth says:

    Everything was priceless in this. I had known the Shakespeare since I had to find some way to connect with my cynical college students who loved it. Your two are great. Never heard that by Williams and he is hilarious.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Pingback: WINNER of the Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest | Chelsea Ann Owens

  11. Congratulations, Geoff! While I don’t recommend you go this route every week, you scored a winner this time!

    Liked by 1 person

  12. Congratulations on your win this week, Geoff! Well deserved as your poems reek with terribleness. Hahaha!

    Liked by 1 person

  13. Shruthi says:

    Simply loved it and enjoyed every word.
    Keep writing such great stuff.

    Liked by 1 person

Comments are closed.