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Show Tune II
That's the long and short of it
now you know
how I've been waiting all these years
where I'm coming from
that's the long and short of it.
That's the long and short of it
now you see
just how hot hot jazz was
how it turned about, my bookcase
that's the long and short of it.
That's the long and short of it
now you know
that my arrest record's
not my best record
that's the long and short of it.
That's the long and short of it
now you see
how the Past's like a love
you can neither leave nor live
that's the long and short of it
That's the long and short of it
now you know
it was no gun in my pocket
it was a rocket
that's the long and short of it.
That's the long and short of it
and you're wond'ring dear
how I kept so pure
hull, it was easy
that's the long and short of it.
That's the long and short of it
now you see
so bounce your head
into bed
that's the long and short of it.
That's the long and short of it
read the blues
in these tattoos
make a song of it
that's the short and long of it.
How I wish
there was a bridge-
then I could burn it;
or the train
of a refrain
then I could board it
but there isn't
no there isn't, so...
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Aging Gracefully
You asked if I'd still love you if you lost all of your hair
Your baldness seems a tragedy: you want more fullness there.
It's strange the way we always wish for what we seem to lack
And anything that goes away is what we'd welcome back.
But hair-well that might be a different story all together
We grow it long or cut it short depening on the weather.
In time, it seems to him there's no such thing as too much hair
She spends her evenings waxing and goes shopping for more Nair.
It really is amusing as we old folks go to bed
She has too much; he has too little hair upon his head.
Perhaps a doctor may invent a way we all can win
By building him a grand toupee with hair plucked from her chin.
poem by Suzanne McNamee
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The Best Way to Comb the Blonde Hair
Years is the worst unforgivable hairstylist
He cuts my hair short;
shorter than our short story..
He cuts my hair off;
off the last relationship..
Now it's 4 sharp in the afternoon,
i, wooden, seize the comb, wooden.
Mirror does not tell lies
age can only climb high.
the comb runs through my hair
my hair flows through somewhere
more strands of hair are gone..
more worries are born
I forget how I combed hair
back in those years..
A young blonde is coming..
and i gonna ask her this question.
poem by Garland Jodie Jeen
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Making Love To A New Person
i do not wait quite that long to have you.
i like your hair, you had it cut finally.
short, but still silky, i touch each lock
like the way i feel
wool, sliding my hands behind you
and then
my finger lands between your lips,
not for anything else,
i do not want any word from you,
neither from me,
this is the moment i have been waiting for
all my life
to be with you, on this short moment,
like your short hair
i feel your lips close to mine,
i savor your breath
unto my own mouth,
your spirit unto mine, i breathe
through each lock,
silky, smooth,
too lovely still,
now, i die embraced by the
understanding of your
arms.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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There Is a Hair in the Bed
there is a hair in the bed
snagged in the sheet fibres
by the coil of its once braided curl
as long as the length
from finger tip to tip
as short as a sharp breath
there is a hair
there
between me
as dark as a polish winter
and you the colour
of dry summer skies
there is a hair in the bed
with a follicle bulb like a teardrop
and a sprout like a clipping
of conductive copper wire
the best part of six inches
of resistance
to my fat fingers
pinching
at the obvious question
why is there a hair
there
in the bed?
poem by Keith Valentine
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0016 Amphibrach
A tinker, a tailor, a soldier, a sailor...
‘A one and a two and a three and a four, guys…’
The amphibrach sings one of poetry’s basics;
a metrical foot – though a difficult one; it
is named from the Greek, meaning short at
both ends – that is, short, long, short, short, long short;
a poet can use it like this for a few lines, or longer;
however, it always seems trying to be something
else – like, some poor donkey who’s lame in one hind-leg;
it’s happier changing to dactyl or ana-
pest – see what I mean, now?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Like when I had long hair, you kind of got male attention from everything. But when you had short hair, it was a different kind of man that was attracted to you or I found coming up.
quote by Ashley Scott
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I've never wanted anybody to like me because I had long hair or short hair, or that they liked the way I dressed or they liked the way I dressed or they liked the way I smile.
quote by David Allan Coe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Longer Thoughts
got long thoughts recently like long bamboo poles
with oil around its body
can't climb further
feeling the falling of
helpless ideas
the man sitting over there
says
idealism is lost and we are
hopeless
on the first day of November
above those fluffy skies
near Sulu sea
i sing a song about breaking
days, digging hearts from shallow graves
somehow i think sorrow must have
split ends
cut them and have them
their short hair
some bangs like cute kids
in Sunday church
i think I'll go out, and have a short run
sweat out and be mad.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Rolling Down The Hills
(carly simon)
People who have bad times
Write hard luck songs
But when their days are green
They think about love
Sunshine, flowers in a garden
Did I bump you sir?
Im beggin your pardon
Have you seen such a day?
Lets begin it by startin -
And rollin down the hills with me.
People who have short hair
Write short hair songs
But when their hair gets long
They think about winding it around in daisy chains
Waitin for the showers
Just to wash it in the rain
Have you seen such hair?
Well let the wind play -
As youre rollin down the hills with me
People who have no hills
Write songs about plains
But if thats not what you want to do
Well you can jump aboard a bus
Or boat or wooden canoe
I know just the mountain
Thats been waitin for you
Too write songs about the peaks
And the beautiful views -
As youre rollin down the hills with me.
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Characteristics of People
Long hair,
Short hair
Dark or light,
Black or white
Small or full lips,
Thin or wide hips
Blue eyes,
Brown eyes
Skinny or fat,
This or that
Everyone has one or another,
Wether it's from themselves
Or their father or mother.
poem by Jessica Goudreault
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All Different, But Still The Same
Some people have short hair, some have long.
Some people have thick hair; some people’s hair is all gone.
Some people have black hair, some have gray.
Some people have brown hair, some blonde, some red.
Some people’s hair a color unsaid.
Some people are short, some people are tall.
Some people will love you; some won’t like you at all.
Some people like hot weather, some like cold.
Some people are timid, some people are bold.
Some people have dark skin, some people have light.
Some people have black skin, some people have white.
Some people eat meat; some won’t touch it at all.
Some people have a good memory, some can’t recall.
Some people accept Christ, some never will.
Some people are stingy, some people give.
Some people like school, some people don’t.
Some people will excel, some people won’t.
Some people smoke cigarettes, some never will.
Some people are honest, some people steal.
Some people have book knowledge;
But don’t know the Holy Book.
Some people burn food, some people can cook.
Some people are old, some people are young.
Some people do smart things, some people do dumb.
Some people just have a diploma
Some people have degrees.
Some people do things slow, some with a breeze.
Some people are complainers, some easy to please.
Some people hate shopping, some stay in the mall.
Some people hate God, but God loves us all.
We are all different, but still the same.
When I get cut, I bleed red;
You get cut, red blood you’ll shed.
Some people are plump, some people are thin.
But we are all the same, we’re all human being.
Copyright © 2010-Phyllis Strong
poem by Phyllis Strong
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Hair Styles I Remember
There are hairstyles I remember wearing
oh so long ago.
My father had a fit with most of them
told me, 'go comb that mess out before you go! '
I'd rat it up with the small toothed end of comb
so the base would hold it up.
Then took a brush to smooth it some
and then I sprayed it so it stuck!
The wind could blow its hardest
but my hair withstood its gail!
When anyone would touch my do
they said it felt as hard as nails!
There was one do called the, Bee Hive
It was hallowed out in the center.
Some gilrs would hide their smokes in there
and have a puff or two after schools dinner.
Then there was the bouffant flip
it was the smallest flip you'd ever seen.
Your head looked like this big balloon
with a small hat rim of hair flipping up, was keen!
Then the Pixie and the Bob
boxed off hair cut for cool guys
long hair for the slobs!
Then the Beatles made their hair debut
my father hated them.
Everyone wore the Nauru jackets
and their pant legs tight and slim!
Then Farra Faucet, that's a funny name
but her hairstyle look, was in the hair book hall of fame!
Not too many new looks I see now a days
just long or short, no curls, no waves.
No teasing of hair, no spray or thick gels
But highlights for sure, all look swell.
I'm glad those days are over with
took forever for you to get ready.
Now it's just blow and go, and sprits or two
and your off on a date with your steady!
poem by Linda Winchell
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Krishna Questions His Hair Braid Not Growing
Mother, when will my hair-braid grow?
milk you said will make it grow,
but still it remains so short.
Mother when will my hair-braid grow
you said like Bal it would be strong,
his braid has grown fat and long,
combing , braiding, bathing, drying,
to the ground like a serpent writhing.
for me you say milk is better.
never delicious bread and butter,
Sur, long live the two brothers,
the twosome of hari and haldhar.
poem by Sant Surdas
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Elongated Hair
She 'done gone and did it'
She pulled it out
The elongated hair on my side
Oh how I did pout
It had grown long before
Back in earlier days
I had kept it short myself
using several different ways
After time had gone by
I wanted to let it grow
I decided to give it a try
and become a freak show
I'd let it grow down to my hips
or maybe to my knees
this hair could grow up to my lips
or at least to my kidneys
She'd noticed it that day in passing
while feeling 'round my tummy
I had thought she'd just been sassing
She said, 'I'll cut it off you dummy'
I did protest then to her notion
It smelled of sheer butchery
To cut of this hair in such a motion
would be a crime to both it and me!
Then came the day when it happened
While I lay in her bed so quietly
The life of my hair would come to an end
with a tug from her hand so quickly
I had mourned it for a moment
and I'm sure I looked sad
whatever had been her intent
I told myself it could not be bad
So now it has another chance
to begin a life anew
Elongated hair please do advance
Again I'd like to see you.
poem by Sean Furlong
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They kept me in short pants as long as they could, until they were shaving the hair on my legs because it was beginning to photograph.
quote by Jackie Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So Many Different Hairstyles
Braids, pigtails, buns,
So many different hairstyles.
Blondes, brunettes, redheads,
So many different colours.
Red, purple, orange,
So many different dyes.
Mohawks, buzz, mushroom,
So many different haircuts.
Bangs, trims, layers,
So many different hair fashions.
Curly, wavy, straight,
So many different hair types.
Short, medium, long,
So many different lengths.
Bald, thick, thin,
So many different hairs.
Gel, hairspray, mousse,
So many different hair glues.
Bobby pins, clips, pencils.
So many different accessories.
Scrunchies, hair bands, elastics,
So many different frills.
Straightener, curler, blow-dryer,
So many different electric devices,
Comb, brush, separator,
So many different appliances.
poem by Janneke Tenvoorde
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The lofty legs are the beauty.
Short legs and short waist are the ducks.
Long legs and short waists are the geese.
Short legs and long waists are the penguins.
Lofty legs without waists are cranes
Who is graceful?
The crane stands out; the tall woman stands out.
29.04.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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