Thirty-the promise of a decade of loneliness, a thinning list of single men to know, a thinning brief-case of enthusiasm, thinning hair.
quote by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Va Va Voom
Some men have shaven their heads full of hair.
To keep some thinking it's a style to shave them.
But thinning hair attracts some folks to stare.
And vanity is mainly known for women,
Who groom!
With nails they manicure and shoes that shine.
Colognes expensive are picked for the scents sent!
High maintenance is now the bottom line,
For men groomed.
To be swooned.
Some men have shaven their heads full of hair.
Va va voom.
To keep some thinking it's a style to shave them.
But thinning hair attracts some folks to stare.
Va va voom.
And vanity is mainly known for women,
Who groom!
With intent to be swooned.
Ooooohhh...
Va va voom.
Groom to swoon.
Both...
Groom to swoon.
Va va voom.
Groom to swoon.
Both...
Groom to swoon.
Some men have shaven their heads full of hair.
To keep some thinking it's a style to shave them.
But thinning hair attracts some folks to stare.
And vanity is mainly known for women,
Who groom!
Although there are high maintenanced men there too...
Seeking to be swooned!
Oh? Oh? Oh? Ooooohhh...
Va va voom.
Groom to swoon.
Both...
Groom to swoon.
Va va voom.
Groom to swoon.
Both...
Groom to swoon.
Va va voom.
Groom to swoon.
Both...
Groom to swoon.
Va va voom.
Groom to swoon.
Both...
Groom to swoon.
Va va voom!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Now
I sit here on the 2nd floor
hunched over in yellow
pajamas
still pretending to be
a writer.
some damned gall,
at 71,
my brain cells eaten
away by
life.
rows of books
behind me,
I scratch my thinning
hair
and search for the
word.
poem by Charles Bukowski
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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London Planes cling tight
Onto thinning green blankets,
Loathe to lose their leaves,
haiku by C. Richard Miles
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The Ground of Life
I am alone
in my high-back chair, listening,
attending to every sound, the breeze
through fluid curtains
strokes my thinning hair,
whispers poems
into eager ears
of the soft moaning of the dove
who warms her thin eggs
alone in that small place
above our front-porch,
telling me that love
is certain.
poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hair Today - Gone Tomorrow
I shudder to think
What life would be like
If women, like men, started thinning;
No peace would be found,
Men would go underground;
There'd be wailing and grief,
There'd be grinding of teeth,
And that would be just the beginning!
Hair-driers and dyes
Would be laid to one side,
As experts were given the time
To find a solution,
To make restitution
By each and all means,
To repairing the genes
Accused of this dastardly crime.
Yes, I shudder to think,
As all women, as one,
Bring all of their powers to bear;
To crush to submission
Illegal permission;
To mess with their beauty,
To ignore their duty
The genes have for growing their hair.
And if the malefactors
Are thinking they'll win
This battle in which they are caught,
They know not their fate,
They've no case to state,
No lesson was learnt,
Even try it, they daren't...
By the way - it was only a thought!
(Written 11th Sept 2012)
poem by John Carter Brown
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My Loving Heart (Fun Poem 95)
(Alternative Valentine Poem)
My hair maybe thinning
and my eyes are getting dim,
but my loving heart
is still filled to the brim.
My legs maybe stiff
and I walk with a limp,
but my loving heart
isn’t any kind of wimp.
My face maybe wrinkled
and my hearing almost gone,
but my loving heart
is still beating strong.
I may look like I’m past it
all wrinkled and crinkled,
but my loving heart
has lost none of its twinkle.
13 February 2009
poem by David Harris
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Perhaps, Death Is Like That....
perhaps
when one is conscious of
an impending death,
time becomes a
line thinning into
lips sealing
itself
one falls out of
words
settles upon a chasm
of silence
trying to forget
what good is there that remains
in life
imagining what is next
a door that opens
to someone waiting bringing light
upon his hands
signaling you to follow
and never look back
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Prayer to St. Francis
'The eyes of the saint make all beauty holy and the hands of the saint consecrate everything they touch.' Thomas Merton
Look at me, O Saint,
sagging skin,
thinning hair, face
lined with roads
too far traveled.
Can you see
in me God's
beauty?
Then touch me!
O take into
your holy palms
my living heart.
Fill me with desire!
Make of me
a holy psalm,
consecrated host,
eternal fire.
poem by Steven Federle
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Minding....
when the eyes of the other
look at you
you begin to feel the insecurity
of something like
what is she up to?
this fat? this loose skin?
this thinning smile? these falling locks of hair?
a stooping shadow?
sleepy eyes?
sometimes, no matter how we hide
they take away the covers
pull the curtains and break the doors
loosen the hinges
and throw us with so much light
that we become blinded
and helpless
and so it is the decision to be strong-willed
that matters
love goes out and
desire fades
and health fails
and bones break
and sight dims
we are what we are
because we decide to be
what we are
just like the way i am
no matter how you see
what is outside
of me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cactus
silhouetted against
a blazing sky
a thinning horizon
absorbing the dirge
of the stretching dunes
narrating the stories
hidden behind each particle
of life lived
of lives buried…
in stoic silence
there she stands
the forlorn queen of the desert
wearing a lone flower
amidst her shielding thorns
02 aug 2010
14.07
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Abaude: Your Eyes
"In an age where there is much talk about ‘being yourself, ' I reserve to myself the right to forget about being myself." Thomas Merton
When I look into the mirror
I see the perfect mime,
moving left or right, mimicing
my vanity as I comb thinning hair,
check wrinkled skin for new blemish,
try figure out who I am;
but when I look into your eyes
I see long drives, mountain roads
rising to clouds, ocean mist
washing clean the highest pines
as the eastern sky
grows bright with
morning.
Your eyes
enfold me.
Like the rising sun,
your love renews
my aging day.
poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Simplistic Solutions: Forgiveness
Forgiveness is
(healthy healing)
commitment
to go on be
(hopefully) well
adjusted balanced
strong in principles
(ethics resolutions virtues)
all other character traits
as applicable.
To love again
an innocent
(man or woman)
unquestionably
when appropriate
to acknowledge selection
(the appeasement of taste)
is a natural
(requisite of coupled duality)
when thinning
out a soulmate
(from potential...)
herd.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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She smiled at me
At Lolly Jackson’s bar
she smiled at me
and as smiles goes,
her’s was teasing.
She smiled quite gay
and her eyes and lips
and exquisite body begged
to play.
In my inner soul
I started to pray
to keep this blonde temptation,
with her inviting boobs and hips
far away from me.
The energy of life
was bursting out,
with every step she took.
a Year later
I saw her in the street
and her thinning hair
and bony face,
reminded me of someone
from somewhere.
When she smiled
It was a ironic grin
and somehow,
I could still see
beauty in her eyes.
Her body was paper thin
and her blue eyes
were sunken in
and AIDS had taken her
to the verge of death.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Misery....
if you are on top of the cliff
and you watch the world: the green valley
teeming with forest trees, the birds in v formation moving away from you,
the fog on early morning thinning and finally
showing to you the horizon of a blue sea
the white line between the land and the water
you may speak then of the beauty of this world
less the miseries of the heart of
the spectator in you
trying to erase
what lies
inside.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Hepatica
Black livers?
Are you really desperate
after a vision? Miasma
rising?
A disheveled sky was
calculating. Tide was turning
back carrying the
tremors of shores.
Was that true, you faith
thinning? I see myself
getting ready for slanting moon
eating seeds of death.
It tears through
the veils of abstract. Are you
looking back at paralyzed
sun who has swallowed a stabile?
poem by Satish Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Present State Of Spiritual Negligence
we feel sorry
everyday to the right God
because wrongly we
have feed our body
and soul
with the wrong food
and we have not become
healthy children
of his house
when we only try to
find the mirror of righteousness
we could have
seen how
emaciated our body has become
how pitiful is our
stinking soul
defiled
cracking skin and flesh
infested by worms
and soul
thinning out like
a desert air.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Rain
Roads not yet glistening, rain slight,
Broken clouds darken after thinning away.
Where they drift, purple cliffs blacken.
And beyond -- white birds blaze in flight.
Sounds of cold-river rain grown familiar,
Autumn sun casts moist shadows. Below
Our brushwood gate, out to dry at the village
Mill: hulled rice, half-wet and fragrant.
Rain
Roads not yet glistening, rain slight,
Broken clouds darken after thinning away.
Where they drift, purple cliffs blacken.
And beyond -- white birds blaze in flight.
Sounds of cold-river rain grown familiar,
Autumn sun casts moist shadows. Below
Our brushwood gate, out to dry at the village
Mill: hulled rice, half-wet and fragrant
At the Jazz Band Ball
Dressed up fine, ready to swing in time,
I set that Satchmo spinning.
My right hand clicks, he plays his licks,
You know that it's beginning.
Hear Bing croon, you know that soon
All your thoughts'll be thinning.
A voice so smooth, let your soul soothe,
It sets my mouth a-grinning.
Sinatra, Nat King, add something
But you know that it's all
Bing and Satchmo, if you're dancing
At the Jazz Band Ball.
poem by Liam O'Brien
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With Money And A Mouth Peice Of The Wise
Walking in paradise and not even knowing.
You think your the only one.
A theory tried and proven wrong.
Their is so many of us.
Small insignificant.
A minuscule being.
You simply don't matter.
It's alway the bigger and the baddest.
Jump just a little higher.
To reach the ledge and climb up.
To only a different level.
Being controlled.
By those who have cheated.
They are smarter and you have been defeated.
A conquest to somewhere.
But where are you?
A never moving frozen stone.
Solid and alone.
Taking on it all.
Weathering the storm.
Listening to the thunder roar.
Enduring the slamming of the doors.
The gates to heaven are closed to you.
Not till you have seen it all.
The third man rides a horse in with his cane pretending to be of the wise.
His old appearance with thinning gray hair is just another disguise.
For he's here to create compromise with the black knight.
Like the forbidden apple he passes the fruit.
Mmm, it taste good and all we want is more.
He makes his promise.
Then points to the dark shadow.
And soon we are engulfed in the darkness.
Not of the promise land.
One of the damned.
As close as you are going to get to hell on earth.
With the whispers of those who have been cursed.
Echoing from this place.
We are all swallowing with disgrace.
We are not the symptom but the problem.
Falling for it everytime.
With lies we believe.
It is only what we tell you.
With intelligence bought and pay for.
The ultimate form of mind control.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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