Noticeably Romantic Poem

(Or extremely touching verses composed upon the occasion of my father’s weddng to Jenny The Tremendous)

My dad’s getting married next month to a lovely Bulgarian lady.  She is a polyglot Bulgarian translator at the American University over there, and that’s nice because my dad has neglected to learn Bulgarian in his whole 62 years on the earth, the wastrel.  Their’s is a story of such beautiful and affecting romance that I was moved and tautologically stirred to spoil it all with a poem.  Also I can’t sleep. 

Very Romantic Poem.

More than the fleas on a zoo-full of bears
More than both tres and beaucoup
More than marzipan’s icky and vile
That’s how much I love you

More than the squeak in a violin
More than a chicken is feathered
More than the spots on a teenagers chin
More than Al Greenspan looks weathered.

More than a teller can tell, do I love
More than avoiders avoid
I love you as surely as death will come true
Just as surely as eggs is ovoid.

More than Obama can stir with his speech
More than W couldnae
More than the good Sister Wendy will NOT
And Clinton, he did but he shouldnae

I love you more than feelings can hurt
More than a wee brother’s pesky
More than collagen trouts up your pout
Making you look all grotesquey

As loud as the sound of a fart in a church
And more than that last line was dirty
More than a butler called Igor doth lurch
And more than a grapefruit is squirty

More than, climactically speaking, we are
So thoroughly now in the poo
O! More than this poem’s romantic, my dear
That’s how much I love you.

The End.

30 thoughts on “Noticeably Romantic Poem”

  1. Nice one, Sam. I was looking for something eloquent and touching to put in Swe.Ge’s birthday card.

    Your royalty cheque’s in the post.

  2. Until now, I never understood what the big deal was with poetry. I come away from this poem truly understanding the depth of Jenny’s and your father’s love for each other. Woe be unto any who stand in their way! (That’s a vestige of my former, pitiful, understanding of poetry–sticking “woe be unto” into it to insure classiness.) I’m going to dash off a letter to the Bulgarian State Poetry Commissar, insisting that you be immediately appointed Poet Lariat of Bulgaria Ex Officio.

  3. A seminal meisterwerk it is to be sure! Good on your old dad. My upstairs neighbours are Bulgarians, they’re lovely. Does that mean you’ll be visiting Bulgaria any time soon?

  4. Huzzah! The PCB returneth anew! Tanned, rested and ready!

    The poem is a lovely start, but don’t tax yourself at these early stages, dear.


  5. Sam’s back and all’s well with the world. I loved it when Ingrid Bergman said ‘ I love you like a pig loves muck!’ Saratoga trunk I think it was but this is better. Tons.

  6. Yer pome is extremely touching. I will need remedial re-cynicaling by mid-afternoon if I’m not to break out in an effusion of amour for all humanity. The Bulgaria connection makes me think of the Wombles. Are you now going to have an Uncle Bulgaria by marriage, perhaps?

    Great to see you back on the innerwebs.

  7. Thank-you! You lovely, lovely, kind, sweet people! I thought noone would show up after all this time off the blog. I don’t really know why I stopped exactly. Lots of reasons, i suppose. For one thing the time involved in blogging and reading blogs was growing out of all control for me. I couldn’t keep up. It was time for a complete break for a while. Be good for me, I thought. See if I can actually do it, I thought. Then life-matters became more pressing for a time and in truth it’s been an uneven half-year – very – in terms of life. Great highs, great lows. Life all capitalized, veering from in-your-face Gothic script to Braille and back. I’ve been puttering around on Facebook a little, which isn’t nearly as demanding. What it certainly wasn’t was anything personal or a complete renunciation of blogging. I love it, and I love the people I’ve met through it. Just was not equal to it for a bit there and getting really, really flipping fed up of the sound of my own voice. Just wanted to be quiet for a bit. I’ve wondered about you all often and popped into your blogs from time to time, usually leaving commentless, don’t know why about that either. Just did. Anyway. I’ve been getting round to visit y’all, slowly. No particular order only fmc is first. Fmc is always first.
    Love yooz

  8. I recommend “A history of tractors in Ukrainian” by Marina Lewycka. You’ll understand why when you read it. Now, everything I know about Bulgaria can be written on a postage stamp. Made a short visit to Sofia a couple of years ago. A few photos here. Very hot in summer. Apparently there are some great resorts on the Black Sea. Used to have a king called Simeon. That’s it I’m afraid.

  9. Did he find her or she him. I ask for I just cannot see someone fecking a dart at a map and ending up in either place. And where will they live, or should I say winter. But best of luck to them both.

  10. There’s an American University over there with Bulgarian translators? Blimey. Nice to have you back and in full fettle. I’m not really here but I thought I’d say hello.

  11. Oh Sam, that is just priceless! I have missed you.

    I’ve got half a dozen Bulgarian students in my highest class here — two of them are just about my best students, in fact. Sadly, not a one of them would understand that poem, but some day who knows?

  12. well, I run into you… in a way you usually run into things in life and specially in a blog-filled world. Happy as can be, shall continue reading, because it’s been kind of you to brighten up my already dull hope of finding something actually worth reading.

    thanks are in order, and a tip on the cap too.

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