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Want More Hair?
I'd love
I think
more hair
more hair
like a big
old grizzly bear
more hair makes
you manly
more hair
makes you tough
more hair feels
like carpet
more hair keeps
you rough
more hair
for pretty ladies
to rub their faces on
more hair for
guys to jealous of
and more locks that can
be flung
I think more hair would be awesome
but I wouldn't wanna overdo it
because too much hair would make
me like a little furry blanket
and I couldn't cover both of us
just you and that ain't fair
more hair!
poem by John W. McEwers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wisdom oft lurks beneath a tattered coat.
quote by Caecilius Statius
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Jamie
Ither laddies may ha's finer claes, and may be better fed,
But nane o' them a'has sic a bonnie curly heid,
O sie a blythe blink in their e'e,
As my ain curly fair-hair'd laddie, Little Jamie.
When I gang oot tae tak' a walk wi' him, alang the Magdalen Green,
It mak's my heart feel lichtsome tae see him sae sharp and keen,
And he pu's the wee gowans, and gie's them to me,
My ain curly fair-hair'd laddie, Little Jamie.
When he rises in the mornin' an' gets oot o' bed,
He says, mither, mind ye'll need tae toast my faither's bread.
For he aye gie's me a bawbee;
He's the best little laddie that ever I did see,
My ain curly fair-hair'd laddie, Little Jamie.
When I gang oot tae tak' a walk alang the streets o' Dundee,
And views a' the little laddies that I chance to see,
Nane o' them a' seems sae lovely to me,
As my ain curly fair-hair'd laddie, Little Jamie.
The laddie is handsome and fair to be seen,
He has a bonnie cheerie mou', and taw blue e'en,
And he prattles like an auld grandfaither richt merrily;
He's the funniest little laddie that ever I did see,
My ain curly fair-hair'd Iaddie, Little Jamie.
Whene'er that he kens I am coming hame frae my wark,
He runs oot tae meet me as cheerful as the lark,
And he says, faither, I'm wanting just a'e bawbee,
My ain curly fair-hair'd laddie, Little Jamie.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beneath All Else...
beneath my feet
i hide my shadows and
they escape like
fugitives
under the guises
of their
sad stories
beneath my hands
i clasp my emptiness
and shaped like a ball
you mistake it for
fullness
you are confused
and i look amazed
still unfazed by your
feigned confidences
beneath my hair
i hide my thoughts
beneath my skull
i hide my soul
beneath my beliefs
i hide a number of faces
beneath my heart
i tell love stories
beneath all these
are the shallowness of them all
something that nobody expects
for i am simple
as a yellow paper
where you list
your bad debts
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Bear and the Hare
The bear is always bare. I have never seen a bear who was not bare. Or does he or she wear a coat of hair? Where does he or she go to buy a coat of hair so that he or she won't be a bare bear? Coats cost money. Bare bears have no money.
But bears eat honey. Even bare bears eat honey. And this bear had a honey who wanted a coat of hair. So when she said to her honey, 'Honey, I want a coat of hair, but I have no money.', her honey replied, 'Honey, I have no money to buy a coat of hair. But I do have honey. Maybe I can sell my honey for money.' So he sold his honey for money so that his honey could have some money to buy a coat of hair and not be a bare bear.
This bear had a friend who was a hare. This hare has hair. Is he bare? He is not a bare bear but a hare and hares have hair. But he is a funny bunny and likes a sunny spot even when it is hot because he like to have fun in the sun. But this funny bunny could not find a sunny spot to go to have fun in the sun until one day a fair came to town.
The bear and hare of course went to the fair. What a pair! The fair was quite far so the bare bear and the hare with the hair decided to ride the street car. To ride the street car, they had to pay a fare. I say that was quite an affair - to see the bare bear and the hair paying for their fare. The bare bear had no pockets in which to carry any fare. The funny bunny had no honey to sell to get some money to pay the fare so that he could go to the fair. The fare cost ten cents. But that makes no sense. It isn't fair to make a bear who is bare and has no pockets to hold a fare or a funny bunny who has no honey to get money to pay a fare to go to the fair.
Subsequently, the bare bear barely got on the street car after the funny bunny hopped on, the bare bear and the hair were there sitting in chairs riding in the street car to the fair without paying any fare. Along the way they saw a mare. They did not care about the mare. They wanted to get to the fair. Have you every seen a bare bear sitting in a chair? I once saw a bare bear sitting in a chair at a fair but he wasn't bare.
To get into the fair the bare bear and the hair had to pay another fare. And still the bare bear had no money to pay any fare to get into the fair. And the funny bunny had no money to pay any fare to get into the fair. So what did they do? How did they get into the fair? As I said, I saw the bare bear sitting in a chair at the fair but he wasn't bare.
Tell me if this is a poem. Thanks.
poem by Ben Gieske
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Dilemma
Now, by the blessed Paphian queen,
Who heaves the breast of sweet sixteen;
By every name I cut on bark
Before my morning star grew dark;
By Hymen’s torch, by Cupid’s dart,
By all that thrills the beating heart;
The bright black eye, the melting blue,—Â
I cannot choose between the two.
I had a vision in my dreams;—Â
I saw a row of twenty beams;
From every beam a rope was hung,
In every rope a lover swung;
I asked the hue of every eye
That bade each luckless lover die;
Ten shadowy lips said, heavenly blue,
And ten accused the darker hue.
I asked a matron which she deemed
With fairest light of beauty beamed;
She answered, some thought both were fair,—Â
Give her blue eyes and golden hair.
I might have liked her judgment well,
But, as she spoke, she rung the bell,
And all her girls, nor small nor few,
Came marching in,—Âtheir eyes were blue.
I asked a maiden; back she flung
The locks that round her forehead hung,
And turned her eye, a glorious one,
Bright as a diamond in the sun,
On me, until beneath its rays
I felt as if my hair would blaze;
She liked all eyes but eyes of green;
She looked at me; what could she mean?
Ah! many lids Love lurks between,
Nor heeds the coloring of his screen;
And when his random arrows fly,
The victim falls, but knows not why.
Gaze not upon his shield of jet,
The shaft upon the string is set;
Look not beneath his azure veil,
Though every limb were cased in mail.
Well, both might make a martyr break
The chain that bound him to the stake;
And both, with but a single ray,
Can melt our very hearts away;
And both, when balanced, hardly seem
To stir the scales, or rock the beam;
But that is dearest, all the while,
That wears for us the sweetest smile.
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Easy Prey
A demon lurks beneath his skin.
Although he looks so innocent.
His purpose is malevolent
to foster sin his sole intent.
Though he may wear a saintly air.
His rosy cheeks and twinkling eyes
his inner wickedness belies
His skill is telling artful lies.
He takes us in so easily
because we do not want to see.
It fills him with unholy glee.
To fool us with smooth sophistry.
Do as you wish, do as you will.
There is no God to punish you
and we accept his words as true
but only because we want to.
He is the father of all lies
and weaves his web of words so well
Encouraging us to rebel
against the rules we know so well
His words appear to set us free
from any fear of punishment
Indulge your sin do not repent.
Pursue a life on pleasure bent.
He leads the innocent astray.
His well pretended piety
conceals his veniality
and we respond obediently.
We sin because we want to sin
It is our choice to break the rules
Although we can pretend he fools
us into becoming his tools.
We know there is a price to pay.
A demon lurks beneath his skin
and we as fools invite him in.
We think to blame him for our sin.
There has to come a quarter day
when all he debts we owe fall due
and we are sadly left to rue
the things we did we shouldn’t do.
6-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The farmer and his wife (Sestina)
A girl was lying down flat on her back
with a straw hat at eye height over hair,
she was sun-struck, curling and fair
with a rain cloud ominous and black
drifting in a blue sky and a small track
meandering past and it needed some repair.
Some of your makeup is in need of repair,
there’s a guitar bag slung over your back
where you walk pass the girl at the dirt track
with the strong wind frizzling through your hair
and the sky is already turning black
but the evening up to now is fair.
Slowly you walk past the local fair
with some of the stalls needing repair,
the guitar you are carrying is black
and you walk straight on, do not look back
at the whistles of some men with long hair
while home you take a narrow long track.
Watching our horses on the racetrack
you are really sexy and very fair,
our horses do parade with shining hair
you notice that the stands need some repair
and I am standing somewhat at your back
while you are dressed prettily in black.
The highway is like a ribbon that is black
where it meets the old overgrown farm track,
there are huge blue-gum trees some way back
and you agree that the price of the Lucerne is fair
where some cows graze at the pen, needing repair,
swishing with tails to drive flies from their hair.
I pull my fingers slowly through my hair
and there are streaks of grey in the black,
but the cattle are only doing fair
while my love is coming with the field’s track
that must constantly be kept in repair
and I hear her singing over my back.
There were torn out hair a long time back,
when I met my darling and she was fair,
at a fight at a track, I was in need of repair.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Comb My Hair
evil hair
eats underwear
you have to take it
every where'
die my hair
and look real square
evil hair isnt fair
so get out of of here
evil hair
poem by Jessica Hendrix
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All The Fun Of The Fair
Tomorrow I'll find someone new
Tomorrow I won't have the flu
I'll wake up with the sun
Shake stardust from my hair
Watch all my colours run
Yes, all the fun of the fair.
Tomorrow I won't slash my wrists
Not while the alcohol persists
But cry to the same sad refrain.
And spend the night in a chair.
As love leaves on a distant train
Tomorrow, all the fun of the fair.
As bitterness eats me alive
She tears my heart from afar
My gamble is just to survive
My emotions all in a jar
- On the shelf of forgotten dream
While hope drowns in silver stream
That washes my touch from her hair.
Ah yes, tomorrow all the fun of the fair.
poem by Kevin East
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Ode
WHAT boots it to be great?
To live in royal state
And feast with kings,
Since now all things
One doom await?
5
What boots it to be fair?
Sweet eyes and golden hair,
And youthful bloom,
Since in the tomb
All foulness there?
10
To live in royal state—
That is not to be great;
Sweet eyes and golden hair—
That is not to be fair.
What is it to be great?
15
Content with thine estate;
To serve thy God and King
In everything—
That is it to be great.
What is it to be fair?
20
Sweet modesty to wear;
To keep thine honour sure,
Thy bosom pure—
That is it to be fair.
Much boots it to be great,
25
Much boots it to be fair.
poem by Frederick George Scott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I've done more harm by the falseness of trying to please than by the honesty of trying to hurt.
quote by Jessamyn West
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Miss Annie Hopkins
BENEATH the shelter of the bush,
In undisturbed repose—
Unruffled by the kiss of breeze—
There lurks a smiling rose;
Beneath thine outer beauty, gleams,
In holy light enshrined,
A symbol of the blooming flower,
A pure, unspotted mind.
The lovely tint that crowns the hill
When westward sinks the sun,
The milder dazzle in the stream
That evening sits upon,
The morning blushes, mantling o’er
The face of land and sea,
They all recall to mind the charms
That are combined in thee!
poem by Henry Kendall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The King of Erin's Daughter
THE King of Erin's Daughter had wind-blown hair and bright,
The King of Erin's Daughter, her eyes were like the sea;
(O Rose of all the roses, have you forgotten quite
The story of the days of old that once you told to me?)
The King of Erin's Daughter went up the mountain side
And who but she was singing as she went upon her way,
'O somewhere waits a King's Son and I shall be his bride,
And tall he is and fair he is and none shall say him nay.'
The King of Erin's Daughter–O fair was she and sweet–
Went laughing up the mountain without a look behind
Till on the lofty summit that lay beneath her feet
She found a King's Son waiting there, his brows with poppies twined.
O tall was he and fair was he. He looked into her face
And whispered in her ear a word un-named of mortal breath
And very still she rested, clasped close in his embrace,
The King of Erin's Daughter, for the bridegroom's name was Death.
poem by Norah M. Holland
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter XLII: What Lies Beneath
beauty lies beneath
sense lies beneath
secret lies beneath
character lies beneath
rule lies beneath
mind lies beneath
past lies beneath
foundation lies beneath
root lies beneath
dark hole lies beneath
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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County Fair
Twenty bucks buys ten coupons
Two ears of corn and one ride on
The tilt-a-whirl with your favorite girl
Keep on walking down the midway
Three-eyed goats and games to play
Step right up, Carney says try your luck
You can tell the sweet smell of summer in the air
Whole town shuts down, everybody's gonna be there
Down at the county fair
Big time, big top, big crowds, big hair
There's nothing bigger all around
This country anywhere
Than the county fair
Judging pigs and judging pies
Fighting for the first place prize
And have you seen this year's queen
4-H Club and FFA working toward a better day
And a petting zoo, yeah, they got that too
And eight o'clock rolls around, everybody knows
The grandstands open up and it's time for the big show
Down at the county fair
Big time, big top, big crowds, big hair
There's nothing bigger
In small towns everywhere
Than the county fair
song performed by by Lonestar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All is well: for if the bride has not fair hair, she has a fair skin.
Beneath The Skin
Beneath the Skin a caustic red river
Beneath the Skin corrosive abuser
Beneath the Skin genetic in rupture
Beneath the Skin all cold and hungered
Beneath the Skin a still born forgiveness
Beneath the Skin cell transfer in whispers
Beneath the Skin a lover cries murder
Beneath the Skin all cold and hungered
Beneath the Skin i wasted this moment
Beneath the Skin old undiscovered
Beneath the Skin another lies ruptured
Beneath the Skin all cold and hungered
song performed by by Queen Adreena
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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french Fries -context-2nd World War-1940-fall Of France
An owl hoots, hoots, hoots, hoots
A dog barks, barks, barks, barks
Then some boots, boots, boots, boots
Uproots, uproots, uproots, uproots
The night lurks, lurks, lurks, lurks
Red wines bespatter,
French fries berserk, berserk, berserk, berserk
As the tall neighbours jerk, jerk, jerk, jerk
There rents the air some surrealists
The face of renaissance recaptured nationalists
No ikebana for my darling in Paris
As scenaries take on cemetaries
And greenaries take on apothecaries
Some invitations dugging heccatomb
Our menu-guns, missiles, mortar and a bomb.
Some toddler girls hanging for apricots
Uproar the gargantuan mascots
Come bigots,
Come faggots,
All yield in to the zealots
Ablaze relaxes a man
In some shabby agonized catamaran
His cries laughed away;
His worries withered away;
Is he the last to give in?
For Paris to Berlin.
04/03/2009
The Guardians Of Mankind
For no one to see for no one to hear
They fight for our souls without any fear
When injustice done they open their gates
To maintain balance between good and bad
And as the winds of freedom blow they vanish into haze
The mighty shadow turns away and wisdom conquers hate
The guardians of Mankind
Are losin' their faith
'Cause malice and falseness
Spread over the human race
If guardians of mankind
Won't shelter our souls
The rulers of darkness
Will soon gain control
Don't try to deceive them don't try to play false
'Cause losing their favour will be the end of shelter
And as the winds of freedom blow they vanish into haze
The mighty shadow turns away and wisdom conquers hate
The guardians of Mankind
Are losin' their faith
'Cause malice and falseness
Spread over the human race
If guardians of mankind
Won't shelter our souls
The rulers of darkness
Will soon gain control
And as the winds of freedom blow they vanish into haze
The mighty shadow turns away and wisdom conquers hate
The guardians of Mankind
Are losin' their faith
'Cause malice and falseness
Spread over the human race
Guardians of Mankind
Are losin' their faith
'Cause malice and falseness
Spread over the human race
If guardians of mankind
Won't shelter our souls
The rulers of darkness
Will soon gain control
song performed by by Gamma Ray
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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