Hair Poem
Hair is heaven's water flowing eerily over us
Often a woman drifts off down her long hair and is lost
poem by Bill Knott

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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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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

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Hair
Wide cheeks? Let the hair hide the ears.
Broad forehead? Let the hair spills in front.
Dwarf neck? Let the hair in knot be up.
Lanky figure? Let the hair falls on shoulders.
Hair being dense is an asset to woman
27.03.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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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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I Wanted to Have a New Hair Style
I went to the barber this morning
To get a hair cut
Because my hair was too long
And I had decided
That I wanted to have a new hair style
I know it seems a little crazy
Maybe I lost my mind
Or I got a little carried away
poem by Aldo Kraas

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The monk with long pretty hair
I love this life,
Sworn to serve the poor,
My body honed to perfection,
With the life style,
The material skill,
The difficult chores,
And the blessing our the lord Buddha,
I will always honor him,
For he gave me the greatest gift of all,
My long pretty hair.
The others start to object,
Claiming my head needs shaving,
There just jealous,
I wear the orange robe,
What more do they want?
I’m always on time,
The best in my class,
I bet that’s why they hate me,
Because who could hate,
My long pretty hair.
Everyday I realise,
My hair is all I care for,
I made my excuses,
I need to be clean,
Because cleanliness is holiness,
Suddenly there’s not enough hours in the day,
I cut the training,
And fall behind on my chores,
To stare at perfection in the mirror,
My long pretty hair.
The Masters are angry at me preaching,
That my hair sets me apart,
As indeed it does,
I see the jealousy in every eye,
They hate me because I'm perfect,
Why should I shave my head?
Am I not the universe’s chosen?
Above all the others,
So what if I’m the better with,
My long pretty hair.
I’m banished from my home,
But that’s ok,
They left me a mirror,
Which I stare into all day,
I found my true love,
Better than my old life,
Helping and healing and fighting,
I rebel against my order,
Despite all I lose I still have,
My long pretty hair.
On the execution block I stand,
In all my glory,
They took my mirror away,
And dared to touch my hair,
Who can blame me for hurting them?
They deserved it,
And now I stand,
Proud and tall,
With my hair flowing free,
Caressed by the breeze
My long pretty hair.
And I now hang by the gate,
By my long pretty hair,
Final glory for everyone to see.
My long pretty hair.
poem by David Whittingham

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Heaven Is
Heaven is a woman
Dressed in blue
And heaven is knowing
Someone who is in love with you
Heaven is a television
Left on all day
And heaven is making love
And then running away
Heaven is
Heaven is
Heaven is believing
What your eyes dont see
And heaven is christy canyon
Falling in love with me
Heaven in waking up
To be a millionaire
And heaven is spending the whole next day
Just walking on air
Heaven is
Heaven is
Heaven is
Heaven is
All these things you say and do
It doesnt mean that much to you
But all these things you said to me
The memories wont set me free
Heaven is a dream
When it wont come true
And heaven is the sky
When its always blue
Heaven is the girl
With short black hair
And heaven is a woman
With enough to spare
Heaven is
Heaven is
Heaven is
Heaven is
Heaven is
And heaven is taking a holiday
And heaven is having you here to stay
And heaven is never ever saying sorry
And heaven is as easy as abc
And heaven is your eyes when theyre always blue
And heaven is just right here with you
Heaven is
Heaven is
Heaven is
song performed by by Omd

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Much Hair
There is thin hair,
heavy hair,
There is gray hair,
and red hair,
then there is no hair,
I will be hair
for you forever,
every hair you go,
I will go hair to.
(4-11-07)
On modern woman
Smile, take a pretty picture,
Be the best woman you can be.
Paint your nails a scarlet red,
Stain your hair a pale blonde,
Be the best woman you can be.
Perk up those breasts,
Put razor to flesh,
Then Scrape off those old skin cells
Breed, woman, breed!
But don't you get stretch marks.
Be the best woman you can be.
Tear the hair from your vulva,
Be the first to church,
When in doubt, smile.
Steam your hair and bleach your teeth,
Don't neglect your husbands needs,
Be the best woman you can be.
Woman, did you read it in a magazine?
You're a void I can not fill.
Don't ever wrinkle.
You don't have to like it, it's gucci.
Snort this line, eat my words.
Don't neglect your petty needs.
Be the best woman that you can be.
poem by H.J. Shreeve

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Misty Water Woman
I was driving round, as the sun went down
When I came upon a lake, the sign said misty water
And standing there, with wet and tangled hair was a girl
She said her name was bo, she was a farmers daughter
I said get in, Ill take you home, you must be cold
Misty water woman
You never get to her
Misty water woman
You never get to touch her
And feel her near
It began to storm, and our talk grew warm
Till I stopped the car outside a cold and lonely place
I said were here
But she had disappeared
And on the seat was a pool of tears
And a handkerchief of lace
I did not see her leave
I was amazed
Misty water woman
You never get to her
Misty water woman
You never get to touch her
And feel her warm
I sped into the house,
It took her father and her mother to straighten me out
What was it all about
Please let me know
She looked sad, and he looked mad
And he said, yes youre right, once we had a daughter
Her name was bo, but that was long ago
Years have gone since she drowned at misty water
And the way he took it, took me by surprise
Misty water woman
You never get to her
Misty apparition
You never get to touch her
And feel her near
song performed by by Rick Springfield

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mess Of A Man
Meet a man,
A man named Harry,
He's in need of a shave,
And it's quite scary,
He's got hair on his chest,
Hair on his back,
Hair on his ass,
And hair in his crack,
He leaves hair on the soap,
Hair on the floor,
Hair every place,
Including the store,
Harry, dear Harry,
Do something, please,
Your hair retains odor,
And you reek of cheese!
Look at your cat,
What will you do?
Your cat's hairballs,
They're the hairs from you!
No hope, it seems,
For your hairiness,
It'll just regrow,
So live in your mess.
poem by Maddy Jones

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My haircut
My haircut,
It was a misserable time,
To watch my hair go,
Snip, snip, snip,
It drifts away in a silence unknown,
To all who have known,
The misserable haircut,
I love my hair,
But it had to go,
like seeing something die,
But i could never really weep,
It is sad to say goodbye,
My hair will grow back,
But only to see it go again.
poem by Trenton watson

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Erotic Hair
when my hair
gets long enough
after a month
uncut by
my gay barber
they become
so curly
like my pubic
hair
and women
and even gays
love all the curls
of my hair
erotic hair
and i am wearing it
as a crown
understand
i am coping up
with mid-crisis
and i like to
say
i got hair
and they are too curly
like my
(messy) sex life
listen, my life
begins at 69.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Moonlight Woman
Her long black hair flowing
Eyes that look through you
Hands that show no labour
A heart that is ever so true
Moonlight Woman
She creeps in the back door
All for a discreet embrace
Her lips are soft and ready
The look of lust on her face
Moonlight Woman
She wants to be held so close
Two giggles you here at night
Such a twisted sort of love
But she makes everything right
Moonlight Woman
poem by Suelynn Walters

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The barbar down the lane
Most time as much a scissor talk
Call for long legs and hair walk
A thing that happens all the time
To every pocket that has least a dim
The man change a hair one
With smile and happiness morning in line
A hair enters and 'voom' disappears
The man inside with hair on repairs
Our barbar down the lane
Is a man with no shame
My hair I dedicate to him
And mine is down with all vim
The everday I wish to enter
And embrass the comb in my hair
This then I know it him
The barbar down the lane
poem by Henry Nii Ayi Cobblah

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Entangled in Her Hair
Her hair
covers my face
she
kisses my mouth
kisses my kisses.
She chuckles.
I stroke her hair.
She sways &
...moves.
Her hair
covers my chest.
She
titillates a nipple
...it tickles.
I run my fingers
through her hair.
She sashays &
...moves.
Her hair
covers my navel
& there...&
there...abouts!
I…almost beside myself
neither...here...nor... there...
Lost in the anywhere
of an everywhere.
I clutch
her hair.
She shimmies &
...moves.
Her hair
covers my crotch.
She
licks it
into shape.
She
goes to say
something
it’s on
the tip of
her tongue.
But, she says nothing
only: “Mmmmm...! ”
& smiles
...smiles.
I close
my eyes.
My hands
entangled in
her hair.
*******
TREAD SOFTLY
We rest on the bed
your head rests against my head
sharing the same dream.
poem by Dónall Dempsey

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Honey Brown Locks
HONEY BROWN HAIR
Honey dew, rays of sunshine fall upon
the silk of your shiny hair,
gently illuminating it in all
its radiant glory,
Woken up by nature`s rays, the warm
water cascades, washes tangles away so creams
and lotions beautify the flowing mass
of sensuous, surging waves
that I soon run my fingers through as I
blow dry, with you sitting on my lap,
Soon we lie on red satin sheets
And I whisper 'I love you'
As I thread a pink rose
Through those curls and waves.
So soon, gently kissing your curvaceous cheeks, lips, neck,
then I brush your hair lovingly, luxuriously,
in slow motion as we move to the jacuzzi
- a mirror above us........
If you would like your own personalized poem about your hair, please describe your hair to me, or if you would like this dream to come true and are ready for a loving, serious relationship, please let me know at [email protected]
poem by Richard Muirhead

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Room For The Life
Hey there, you lady in tears,
Do you think that they care if theyre real, woman?
They just take it as part of the deal.
Lost in your men and the games you play.
Trying to prove that youre better, woman.
But you neednt get heavy with them.
Like it or not, we were built tough,
Because were woman.
No, we never die for long,
While weve got that little life
To live for, where its hid inside.
No, we never die for long,
Oh! woman, two in one,
Theres room for a life in your womb, woman,
Inside of you can be two, woman,
Theres room for a life in your womb, woman,
Mama woman, aha!
Night after night in the quiet house,
Plaiting her hair by the fire, woman,
With no lover to free her desire,
How long do you think she can stick it out?
How long do you think before shell go out, woman?
Hey! get up on your feet and go get it, now.
Like it or not, we keep bouncing back,
Because were woman.
No, we never die for long,
While weve got that little life
To live for, where its hid inside.
Oh! woman, two in one,
Theres room for a life in your womb, woman,
Inside of you can be two, woman,
Theres room for a life in your womb, woman,
Mama woman, aha!
A-mama-woma-mama-woman-aha!
A-mama-woma-mama-woman-aha!
Oh, mama-woman, two-in-a-one, aha!
Oh, two in one, aha!
Oh, woman! woman! woman! woman!
Theres room for a life in your womb!
Theres room for a life in your womb!
Two in one, aha!
Two in one! two in one! two in one!
Room for a life in your womb.
song performed by by Kate Bush

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Siren's Cry
Thy silent maiden floats at sea,
Long golden hair flowing around her bod,
Nothing in her mind but a tale of love and woe,
As her tears fall to be lost in the sea,
Never to be seen again, but by those who whisper to she,
Whisper of a light so bright, that you cannot see the world,
The world that engulfs thy in horror of unreal wonders,
As water laps at thy feet, reaching, reaching for thy soul,
Crying the sirens cry to lure thee to her breast,
Her breast where thy silent maiden lay awaiting her lover’s hand,
Waiting for her tears to be dried with thy finger of love,
And still thy stand overcome by thy light of selfishness and want,
And still thy silent maiden lies out at sea,
Silver tears flowing from her closed eyes,
Arms out brushing backs of dolphins and whales,
Hair dancing in the waves,
As she sings her sirens song, pushing, pushing the water,
The waster that laps at thy feet, reaching, reaching for thy soul,
Water made of the sirens cry,
Luring thy to her breast, where thy silent maiden lay awaiting,
Awaiting her lovers hand to wipe away her tears,
And like so many before that have given their heart to her,
And that have become the foam that lines the sea,
Like those before,
Thou shall fall to the sirens cry.
By: Bethany Maxwell
September 18,2009
poem by Bethany Maxwell

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Love hair
I got down onto the bed and started kissing you but my long hair got in the way and I felt like I kissed myself.
Long straight hair which fell onto your head was the wall between me and you and I feared if I said: I love you, I would be saying it to myself.
I tried to move myself away from you but couldn't and soon my hair was all over your body, protecting it from my love.
I really felt like I loved myself when I kissed my hair that was against you.
And it started feeling weird after a long time doing it.
poem by Maria Junnonen

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