John Paul Valentino’s Love Corner
Perched in the high tower of a castle overlooking the beautiful Cork countryside with a scroll, quill, pot of ink and a couple of cans of Dutch Gold at his side our resident poet laments about how he has been seperated from his love on Valentine's Day.....
"Making this Love Right"
14th February 2002
by John Paul Valentino
Oh my love, my sweet old doll,
As I sit here with this glass of methanol,
I think of the days you held my hand,
As we fought together at Burgerland.
The girl you attacked you fought with grace,
So well with bottles you slashed her face,
Stamped on her head with your shiny heels,
Stole her money, lipstick and deals.
My love for you is like a bomb,
The way you gurn just turns me on,
When you dance around my mates,
I love the way your jaw rotates.
Your gorgeous eyes, each like a balloon,
The smell of vics and not perfume
And when you black out, I'm always there,
Rubbing your shoulders and massaging your hair.
One perfect evening down Carey's Lane,
My headphones whispered the Ball'n'Chain,
You pushed me up against the door,
You said 'come on!' and we hit the floor.
But your gut fell out and it made me mad,
'When did this happen and who's the dad?'
'Well I guess' you said 'that could be tricky'
'Cos it could be Blades, Dan, Mick or Dricky,
Sully, Maca, Brick or Slasher,
Sausage, Pudding, Eggs, or Rasher.
Besides where do you think I got the cash,
For all those crates and bales of hash,
Oh I'm sorry I didn't realise,
And in my heart I appologise,
And for a second my heart, it skipped a beat.
And using a Dunnes Bag for a sheet,
We cuddled together 'till we heard a Postman say,
"C'mere ye two !...ye're in me way !"
But up you jumped up and being so wise,
You scratched this face and scrawled his eyes,
Grabbed his bag, away you ran,
Still clutching close your Bulmer's can.
But now you're somewhere far away,
I hope again we'll meet someday,
Despite the conviction and doing time,
I hope you'll still be my Valentine.