No married woman will have her white hair shaved at her mother's.
Related quotes
I shaved my head about 15 years ago and the first time I shaved it, I started running my hand through my hair and it was very therapeutic.
quote by Vin Diesel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Calving Cow is More A Beauty
Dear Aditi Gowtrikar,
You are Mrs. World 2001.
Before you were crowned,
I knew you as a model
And took you as a damsel.
I was mad under your spell.
Had not you been married,
Had not you calved,
Could you be that captive?
Doubtful.
A married woman and
A mother-woman
Are more in glow.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grandma's Old Piano Was Sold
grandma's piano is old.
she died ten years ago
being the second wife of grandpa.
my mother is her second child
that she sent to piano school
but father found her and married
her when she was still 18.
and i was born as their fourth
child. Mother knows how to play
the moonlight sonata which father
loves to listen at night when
i learn how to smile and laugh.
One day Papa found another woman
whom he said made him new again
and he left Mama.
One day Mama died and Papa married
that woman.
One day i left home.
One day the piano was sold
One day the piano was taken to another
town so far away from us.
One day, all these things, the piano, Papa
and my step mother are forgotten.
But then the Moonlight Sonata comes again
One night
From another piano nearby.
The keys are no longer made
From elephant tusks like grandma's old piano.
Not the off white of ivory.
So white and smooth like a well brushed teeth
of a very young boy.
I like to hear it when he learns
how to gnash.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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at the train station somewhere in Canada
and so it was evening
a Kenyan woman asks you if you are Chinese
and if you are married and if you have kids
& how many
on the pavement just below the bench
a white man is drunk
and could not carry himself back
on his feet
the Kenyan woman asks if you are waiting
for someone
and you point to the white man
who wriggles to signify that he still
hears both of you
talking about him
the train arrives and you both go inside
the Kenyan woman and you
you tell her that you are not Chinese
you are not married
and that you simply want to go back home
she says her teen age child is lost.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Floyd The Barber (KAOS-FM Radio Apr 87)
Bell On Door Ring (Clang), Come On In
Floyd observes my hairy chin
Sit down in the chair don't be afraid
Steaming hot towel on my face
I was shaved
I was shamed
I was shaved
Barney ties me to the chair
I can't see I'm really scared
Floyd breathes hard, I hear a zip
Pee-Pee pressed against my lips
I was shaved
I was shamed
I was shaved
I sense others in the room
Opie, Aunt Bea I presume
They take turns and cut me up
I die smothered in Aunt Bee's muff...
I was shamed
I was shamed
I was shaved
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Picture Of Papa
here is papa's picture
before he died
30 years ago
beside his izuzu pick-up
carrying a bottle of gin on one hand
and a gun on his holster
his right hand holds
the waist of a young woman
in white shorts
he has a pipe on his mouth
a smoke over his head
and he is grinning like a
macho lover
that young woman is not my mother
he says she was his true love
but she was taken away
by the rebels
mother died when i was six
but i already understood what was really going on
papa was very proud of me
he liked my drawings and my
games
i am the only boy
i do not smoke and i do not drink
and i married
the only woman that i really love.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Day Jane Fainted
Jane fainted in the town
by the coach
on Saturday morning
and her mother
and other women
were around her
and you stood
a little way away
wondering what
had happened to her
I think it must be
that time of the month
you heard one woman say
maybe
her mother said
but she's not usually
like this
she added
will she be all right?
you asked
bending down
next to one
of the women
who had gathered
her mother looked at you
and said
yes it happens
at certain times
of the month
oh right
you said
none the wiser
gazing at Jane
at her dark hair
her eyes closed
her features
white and sweaty
best give her some air
her mother said
and you all stood up
and her mother
fanned her
with her hat
then after a minute or so
Jane opened her eyes
and said
what happened?
I went all funny
and everything went white
you fainted
her mother said
waving the hat
in front of Jane's face
I want to get up
Jane said
and so you
and her mother
helped her
to her feet
and she leaned
against the wall
of the bank
and looked around
she'll be all right now
a woman said
it happens
another said
after a few minutes
they went off
to the shops
leaving you
and your mother
and Jane
and her mother
standing by the coach
I'll be all right now
Jane said
ok
her mother said
and you all walked
along the street
to the shops
Jane walking behind
with you
her hand stealthily
reaching down
for yours and giving it
a little squeeze
then releasing it again
looking up at the sky
which had become dark
threatening rain.
poem by Terry Collett
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~Reconciliation~
A black woman migrates to Europe
War devastated Germany in she finds a tolerant white widower to cope
Years some later a mulatto is born with arrear
Unluckily the newborn not so towards white but usual spirally knotted hair
She grows up and gets because of her white father´s repute a government job
Ego came out spontaneous in black aggression as corn on the cob
Her work by job agency comes mostly foreigners for demonstrations
Majority a jobless black immigrant who has not the lucky touch of Midas parentage in confrontations
She looks of blacks down and she herself is black
When asked to justify says she is more white hidden traits back
She repeats her satisfaction from day to day
Until she went to a white german barber for hair trim and foam some day
Your hair is another says the white old barber woman
I have no experience and i cut not those hairs as talisman
Go to a black barber she added
They understand more your hair as they the same headed
Pretty or Beautiful?
As I step onto the scale I wait for it to read my weight.115.
'What am I going to do I am still fat.
My family says that I am pretty but my boyfriend says that I am beautiful.
Which one am me? Pretty or beautiful?
I hear my mother saying 'come down for breakfast.'
I call to my mother 'one minute.'
I stare into the mirror and I don't see what my family sees.
I see my boyfriends point of view; beautiful.
The prettiest long brown hair and dark, hazel - green eyes
and perfect white teeth.
I see a young woman who’s ready to live her life to the fullest.
I see a woman who loves to help children in their day - to - day lives.
I see a woman who’s going to succeed in whatever she believes
it is right or wrong.
I see a woman who will help adoption agencies, shelters
and the homeless.
I see a woman who will believe in everyone around her and who
will motivate those who need motivating and help them succeed.
I see a woman who can do anything that is put in her way and who
will get it done right the first time.
I am that woman, of success.
I am that woman of motivating people and challenging them to
do the right thing.
I am a woman of faith of love and of beauty.
I am a woman who is ready to live her life to the fullest.
I am me!
poem by Shannon Monroe
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Rope hair woman
Rope hair woman
Where you’re off to tonight
Rope hair woman
You’re lookin’ out of sight
O rope hair woman
I love with all my might
Rope hair woman if you could if you can
Let me be your dread lock man.
Dread lock man
Can you understand
That a rope hair woman
Does all that she can
To move you to that sexual point
Better then your hand
O rope hair woman
Here is my plain
Rope hair woman I will give
Up my womanly man
O rope hair woman
The world can understand
That you want a dread lock man.
poem by David E. Patton
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The Fake Doctor
The fake doctor raped the married woman! !
For he saw the beauty of the woman and moved his libido;
But this married woman consulted him for an advice,
And he said that the devil made him did that.
Who did the act?
Was it the devil or this man?
And the unsuspecting victim was a married woman;
But the fake doctor raped her.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Half my father
Half my father
Half my mother
My mother white as a ghost
My father black as coal
In my face the mixture glows
My skin is white
Still I am a black man
By the make of my nose
My hair is curly
My eyes are gray
Within me both if them lives
My mother’s race
Did enslave
My father’s race
Was never paid.
Still within I bare the two
Am O the new American?
My father is white
My mother is Korean
They met during the war
And I was born
Their only son
By my tone of skin
And by my eyes
You can tell
That there is a divide
And by my blonde hair
It is there for you to spy
Am I the new American?
My mother is German
My father polish
I learned three languages
As I grew older
Both of them
Did love me well
And of each country did tell
That I could draw
From each well
Am I the new American?
My father is Chinese
My mother Spanish
Both crossed over the Rio Grand
I am in the make of my father
But I have my mother’s brown skin
Am I the new American?
poem by David E. Patton
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Free Man
I sold my house, I sold my car
I took a job at millys bar
I met a man who was running from the government
Ah he wants to be a free man yeah
Ah he wants to be a free man yeah
He took me out to his campsite
I met his friends
They seemed alright
Until I noticed everybody seemed real upright
They just wanna be a free man now
They just wanna be a free man now
They just wanna be a free man now
Pardon me man
Oh but whos your mother
Oh and didnt she say
You should love one another
He showed me how to load a piece
To shoot it straight between the teeth
And the next thing I know I think Ive fallen in love
And Im living with a free man now
Now Im cooking for the free man now
He took me out in his old truck
He told me anyone who aint white sucks
Thats when I realized Id made a big mistake
Oh Im running from the free man now
Oh Im running from the free man now
Oh Im running from the free man now
Oh but pardon me man
Oh whos your mother
And didnt she teach you
She should love one another
Late one night I snuck away
To use the phone so I could say
Id appreciate a little bit of government
Cause Im married to a free man now
Oh Im married to a free man now
Yeah Im married to a free man now
Well Im married to a free man now
Yeah Im married to a free man now
Oh Im married to a free man now
I think Im running from a free man,
Running from a free man,
Running from a free man now
Oh Im running from a free man now
Oh Im running from a free man now
song performed by by Sheryl Crow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I don't see a white woman. I see a black woman, even though my mother is white. Knowing that has made my life easier, I think.
quote by Halle Berry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Madonna Whore
What are you thinking when you're looking at me
What can you tell me of reality?
I'm only woman... not just a Fantasy
and the flesh and blood is warmer than some color transparency
Every woman's a Madonna; every woman's a whore
You can try to reduce me but I'm so much more
I don't want to be your mother; won't be shoved in a drawer
cause every woman's a Madonna, every woman's a whore, that's right
What are you thinking when you push me away
Was it some promise in your youth you made?
Holding out for something or hoping to be saved
Does it make you feel power or are you just afraid of me?
Every woman's a Madonna; every woman's a whore
You can try to reduce me but I'm so much more
I don't want to be your mother; won't be shoved in a drawer
cause every woman's a Madonna, every woman's a whore, that's right
I don't know
if you say so
got so many do's and don'ts my head is spinning
Hey Romeo, j-j-j-just let get go
maybe everything could use a little sinning
Every woman's a Madonna; every woman's a whore
You can try and reduce me but I'm so much more
I don't want to be your mother; won't be shoved in a drawer
cause every woman's a Madonna, every woman's a whore
Every woman's a Madonna; every woman's a whore
You can try and reduce me but I'm so much more
I don't want to be your mother; won't be shoved in a drawer
cause every woman's a Madonna, every woman's a whore, that's right
You can try to reduce me but I'm so much more
I don't want to be your mother; won't be shoved in a drawer
cause every woman's a Madonna, every woman's a whore, that's right
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mother
Everybody utter
They love their mother
Many of them
Do not respect woman
One who is a mother to other?
Or one day
Shall become a mother
A mother is a mother
Same sacrifices same pains
She has to bear
May be a king
May be a pauper
None could exist
Without a woman
Known as a mother
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Cutting edge
Like a sharp knife
cutting through a bitter lemon
into red lips dripping
the hairdresser takes my pleasantries,
chops them with a cruel hand,
throws them back in pieces in my face
snip snip into blond hair, brown hair, black, grey, white,
what heroic restraint, condemned
to a lifetime’s cutting, and not
to plunge the scissors into a spinal cord…
this little girl who cut her finger with
her mother’s scissors perhaps
to try to explain how they cut her heart
her love that would grow like hair
how can I know the heart
of this woman who cuts my hair
so expertly.. snip, snip..
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Honour to Women
The woman is my mother,
She is the wife of my father.
The woman is my wife,
She is also the mother of my children.
I love my mother,
My children love their mother, too;
So, I respect my beloved wife.
Every woman with the veil of Mother is honoured by all,
Heaven lying at the feet of mother, every woman moves proudly.
poem by Supanul Islam Supan
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St. Francis shaved himself first, and then he shaved his brethren.
Wavy
I thought that I had wavy hair
Until I shaved. Instead,
I find that I have straight hair
And a very wavy head.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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