Related quotes: I use to wear it...

Baldly Stated

I use to wear it centre parted.
But now alas it has departed
When I was young I had thick hair
but now my head’s completely bare.
I wear a hat against the sun
a sunburnt scalp is not much fun.
The only plus that I can see
I need not pay a barbers fee
nor spend my money on shampoo
As hirsute men are forced to do.
A sign of masculinity
they say though I would rather be
Possessor of a well thatched head
than one from which all hair has fled.

1-Jun-08

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

I Am A Human Head

I'm a human head
And my best friend is also a head
I don't really need my best friend
Now my friend is gone
And I'm only a head by myself
I find I don't need my whole head
Now I'm just the top of a head
Just the scalp and the hair
I don't like the scalp just the hair
What do I really need?
Best friend also a head
Just the head
Just a scalp
Hair
Friend
No
Head
No
Scalp
No
Hair
I am only one human hair
With no scalp for a home
All I need's the top of a head
Now all I am is just a scalp
I don't have any head
I'd be glad if I had a head
Now I have a head
Look at me
I'm a fine floating head
Where is my friend the other head?

song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Well suited

I feel no need to power dress
No longer trying to impress.
My style today is casual

What you see is what you get
and I confess to no regret.
Today I can be comfortable/

I need not wear a shirt and tie
and try to act impressively.
I find it rather comical.

When I observe young men today
trying hard to make their way.
It’s not at all unusual.

For them to think they know it all
But pride oft goes before a fall
and sadly that is typical

When we are young we foolishly
we must dress fashionably
So that we seem acceptable.

Now that I’m old I do not care
If no one likes the clothes I wear
I dress to suit myself not you
it is my right and so I do.

25-Mar-09

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Womem's wiles For M'Lady Tara

When boys are young then generally
they are cared for by female kin.
But when approaching puberty
the father figures then step in.

To instil masculinity
instruct them in the ways of men.
How to act independently
and how to dominate women.

See women as inferiors,
who need to be kept in their place.
By men who are superior,
this men will state with a straight face.

But women know it is not so.
Although they let the men believe
that they admire machismo.
A woman’s way is to deceive

the male who thinks his word is law.
In each and every way she can.
That’s what women’s wiles are for.
They can run rings round any man.

Though some men know few
will admit they are aware that women rule.
Most men are quick to deny it,
which makes them easier to fool.

This women know instinctively.
So women usually get their way,
a sop to masculinity.
The only price they have to pay.

19-Jul-08

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Haircut.

The Barber came to cut my hair,

I told him that it wasn't fair.

My hair had done him no harm,

Without it I would loose my charm.

The Barber he grinned a silly grin,

Said to cut my hair would be no sin.

That I should face it like a man,

But I'm a coward and away I ran.

Do you like sitting in a Barbers chair,

With him chopping away your lovely hair.

Once my head was full of curls,

Covering my face with twisty twirls.

But then the Barber came my way,

I was a child, I had no say.

Off came my curls one by one,

The Barber seemed to have great fun.

Now I'm old and very grey,

I'm nearly bald, my hairs gone away.

But when I see a Barbers chair,

I feel the loss of my curly hair.

You know I truly rue the day,

When that first Barber came my way.

poem by Bernard Shaw
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Summers Day stroll

She wore a simple summer dress
Her arms and legs were brown and bare
What stole my heart I must confess,
the red/gold beauty of her hair.
Which rippled like a waterfall
caressed by every passing breeze.
Formed round her head an aureole
a sight that could not fail to please.
A poet with an artist’s eye
for that is what I claim to be
I did but see her passing by
but I remember vividly.
She looked so young and innocent
I looked my fill and was content

I do not think that she saw me
but if she did she would have seen.
An old man strolling aimlessly
An old grey haired worn out has been.
She looked at me unseeingly.
Much too engrossed or so it seemed
to spare a single glance for me.
I formed no part of what she dreamed.
She was still young and so naïve.
She thinks that youthful dreams come true.
But I am old and don’t believe
I know they very seldom do.
So I continued on my way
and left her wrapt in reverie
This pretty girl had made my day.
Albeit quite unknowingly.
Although I’m old I still recall
when dreaming mattered most of all.

10-May-08

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Double Sonnet

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dreads

It's not a statement of defiance,
I wear my hair in dreads.
It's who I am...
And I'm proud to show them.
Naturally...
On my head!

I use to keep my hair short and faded...
Conservative in conformity!
To fit into a 'conscious' acceptance...
An unspoken, visual uniformity.
Believing to appear like everyone else...
Would bestow upon me,
A certain respected sense of self.

Having no clue it was 'me' I pursued!

It took me a while to realize,
From myself I ran and fled!
Then when I 'woke' up clear with understanding...
I still had concealed a truthfulness not revealed.
My hair is 'nappy'!
And when not cut,
It dreads!
Curling into 'naps'.
And feeling comfortable on my head.

How sweet the awakening...
To a wholesomeness fed!
Not to dred but to wear in pride.

It's not a statement of defiance,
I wear my hair in dreads.
It's who I am...
And I'm proud to show them.
Naturally...
On my head!
Dreadlocked.

And now that I feel,
My best of self can be expressed...
I see so many who are trapped in masquerades.
Doing their best to project...
What they feel someone else,
Will accept without protest!

And I am so happy I can live my life...
With a peace of mind I find at rest!
Knowing a simple thing like 'dreads'...
Exposes a complete identity I keep.
And makes me feel at my very best yet!
Instead.
Forgetting the 'me' who I thought I knew...
And having not one regret!
Not within my heart I thread.

Note:
Dedicated to those dreadlock wearers
who feel the gloriousness of being who they are!
And a deep kindred with 'Jah' The Supreme!
A strengthening of 'spirit' develops when one
becomes...'dread-headed'!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Dad

Any fool can be a father.
It takes a man to be a Dad.
Though some fellows would much rather
play the field as Jack the Lad.
Take their pleasure where they can
avoid responsibility
The lack the guts to be a man
despite their masculinity.
Real Dads are made of sterner stuff.
Take their duties seriously
stay steadfast when the goings tough
and always try their best to be.
The kind of Dad who’s firm but fair.
But best of all He’s always there.

7-Sep-08

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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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Green Onion Shampoo

The baby-sitter's nuts! Please listen Mom, it's true!
Last night she washed my hair with Green Onion Shampoo!
Green Onion Shampoo! Green Onion Shampoo!
It smells worse than bad, and when you get through,
Your poor scalp will burn, your eyes will burn too!
Who ever heard of Green Onion Shampoo?
Why did she do that? She has a loose screw!
It's made in Cleveland! This stuff is brand new!
I don't understand! God, what did I do?
To ever deserve Green Onion Shampoo?
Promise to fire her! And trust when I say...

If you rehire her... I must run away!

poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
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Grin and Tonic for M 'lady Marilyn

I sometimes have a jaundiced view
when I survey the world today.
I have to pause and look anew
to try to see a different way.
It all depends on upon my mood.
The way in which I choose to see
and my prevailing attitude.
So in the end it’s down to me.
I wear an artificial smile
which will conceal the way I feel.
But oddly in a little while
I find my smile becoming real.
What I pretended has come true.
It works for me: why mot for you.

01/05.2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He calls me Honky.

My friend’s as black as ebony
and he delights in teasing me.
He says I am the coloured man
I can’t deny it no one can.
My hair is blond my eyes are blue.
His words are obviously true,
My facial skin is pink and white.
to anyone with normal sight
His eyes, his hair and skin are black
I cannot counter his attack
But he’s my mate so I don’t care
His banter isn’t hard to bear
We’re much the same bar for our skin.
What matters most must lie within.

Monday,16 November 2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unwritten for C.P.Sharma

I bought a new anthology
of poems from the First World War.
I offer no apology
The poetry filled me with awe.

To understand that tragedy
could inspire young poets to write.
Poetry of such great beauty.
To read it is a sacred rite.

I have a strange affinity
with young men cut down in their prime
Who made their mark on history
describing hell in metered rhyme.

I am forced to wonder what
they might have written but could not.

18/05/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Keeping up appearances forJTEllison

Why do we feel the need to ask?
Just who we are so frequently
Why is that we wear a mask
to hide our true identity?

Why do we try so hard to be
somebody other than we are
Adopt a personality
in the same way we choose a car.

Who are we trying to impress?
Why do we feel the need to hide
behind a façade of success.
It does not alter what’s inside.

Although we try we’re doomed to fail
because we can’t sustain the lie
Our efforts are to no avail.
Yet still we feel compelled to try.

2-Mar-09

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Look taller, woman.

Bare your nape. With hair knotted up.
Wear sleeveless and bare loins.
Drape in muslin clothes.
Wear small studs and such sorts.
You would look taller than you are.
You look nicer than you are.
30.05.2004

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Case Hardened for Joe Poewhit

A macho man must strut his stuff.
Because he lacks the sense to see
That any man who’s man enough
Can let his feelings show freely
Secure in his identity
He does not care what other say
about his masculinity.
He chooses to go his own way.
But macho men feel they must hide
behind a shield of bravado
But deep inside they’re terrified
that other people get to know.
Their attitude is self defence
their bravado is all pretence

Sunday,17 January 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Howdy for M'lady Mary Gordley

If you should catch a passing smile.
Then wear it for a little while
before you pass it on again.
You cannot lose you always gain.
For smiles are most transferable.
Most everyone is capable
of giving and receiving smiles
in many forms and many styles.
They take less effort than a frown
and lift you up if you feel down.
Surprise a stranger with a grin
a gesture that’s born deep within.
Strangers are friends you have not met.
A smile’s something they won’t forget

29-Jun-08

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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Glass Ceiling.

Business women power dress.
Their sole intent is to impress
The world with their efficiency
and not their femininity.
Though many try few will succeed
Men are unwilling to concede
That any woman possibly
can hope to claim equality.
Men think that masculinity
confers superiority.
Though women know it isn’t true
There’s very little they can do.
To change the system that exists.
The old boy’s network will resist.

Thursday,03 March 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What can you lose?

I’ve dreams to spare and dreams to share
For those of you prepared to dare
to leave behind reality
and try a little fantasy.

Although my dreams may not be new.
The promise that I make to you.
My dreams are all in good repair,
though some have seen a lot of wear.

You need not pay my dreams are free
because they’re low technology.
You do not need a power source
to view my dreams.Although of course

you must return them when you’re done
and if you’re truly satisfied
Exchange them for another one.
All sorts of dreams can be supplied.

Friday,22 January 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Making the effort.

My get up and go has got up and gone
tired of waiting it’s gone on alone.
I am content to just and wait.
It’ll come back with tales to relate.

Of where it’s been and what it’s seen
Its only aim to turn me green
with jealousy and stimulate
my interest before too late.

Rouse me from my lethargy
There is so much to do and see.
But I prefer to hibernate
Although I do appreciate.

The effort it’s prepared to make
I really do make no mistake.
I must cast off this lazy mood
I am sure that it would do me good.

I need some retail therapy.
There’s nothing really wrong with me
A little shopping will not cure.
I have responded to the lure.

I’ll wash my face and comb my hair
A quick car ride will take me there.
The metro centre beckons me
I can afford a spending spree.

If not today then tomorrow.
Although I may have to borrow
more energy from somewhere.
I will get up and go. So there.

Tuesday,10 November 2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Making the effort for M lady Ernestine