There was a man
There was a man with a golden crop.
Started to see, the growth he had did stop;
Over a few months he noticed as he did look,
A cricket pitch, was now he saw it over took.
There was a lady of almost 60, and in a mood,
She looked in the mirror, found her chin growing a brood;
She tried to pull each new hair till it came out,
But a few weeks later, two no three, new ones came about.
These two met for a cuppa, and a sweet,
And spoke of their problems on their seat;
She said to him why is it to me, such a bother,
I'll soon need to shave, I'm not a guy I'm a mother.
He agreed, and started to laugh, at the situation,
That he also had a problem, a hair complication;
Then she said why do you laugh, it's no joke you know,
But; soon saw why he thought it was fun, said o blow.
He said dear girl, as we get older, I'm losing my locks,
But you sweet ladies start growing a beard so why the knocks?
From the younger generation, that we see everywhere,
After all one day it'll happen to them as well, and see if we care.
poem by Margaret Haig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
This Morning At The Barbershop
This morning at the barbershop,
a barber is busy with the hair
of a much older grey haired man
that he is trimming neatly
and a young man
sits in one of the barber’s chairs.
When I sit down to wait
the young man rises
turning to me
and asks if he can cut my hair.
I was happy to get attention immediately
while the other barber was finishing
with the older man,
as he looks to finely tuned to me.
My hair was smartly cut
with a pair of scissors
and the young barber
held his fingers
to determine the length
and I wanted it shorter
than just cutting off the ends
while the other barber
first took a hair blower
from a drawer,
sprayed something over his own hair
before he started to blow it in the mirror
and he then said
that he cannot go
to the bank to wait in line
with a head looking like Tut’s ass
and I saw my locks
falling dark brown
with dots of grey around me
and saw the other barber
combing his long hair
and smiled at myself
about the vanity of humanity
while I looked at myself
and were starting to look much better.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Reasons I Cheat
A working day to long when everything goes wrong
And a boss who dont know Im alive
I once had a notion Id get that promotion,
But now I barley survive
A wife to demanding with no understanding
Of why I stay dead on my feet
A dimly lit tavern a willing young woman
Are some of the reasons I cheat
The hair that Im losing and a women whos choosing
To lay sound asleep by my side
The bills they are mounting thats when I start counting
On someone to help sooth my pride
A lady that knows me affection she shows me and a smile so easy and sweet
The dreams that Ive buried the load that Ive carried
Are some of the reasons I cheat
My children keep on growing me age keeps on showing
Like all of my old friends I meet
So Im getting older my lifes growing colder
Just some of the reasons I cheat
Yes Im getting older my lifes growing colder
Just some of the reasons I cheat
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Mystery - Song Lyrics
Walked into a store
Started talkin' bout the Lord
The people told me to leave
Didn't want to hear it anymore
So I walked away dismayed
They thought they were being played
But little do they know
With Him they'll have it made!
Chorus:
Did you ever wonder
Why things happen as they do
The puzzle pieces don't fit
It's the old that makes things new
Cause He takes what is broken
Gets everything all fixed
Does it simply with love
He don't use any tricks
What a sweet mystery!
When I was back in school
I always acted like a fool
People thought that I was messed
But I thought that I was cool
When I got a little older
I started getting colder
Life started getting tough
I never used His shoulder
I tried to do it all myself
Threw my problems on the shelf
Hoped they would just go away
Wasn't good for my health
Chorus X 2
Did I plant one of your seeds?
Can You tell me when it grows?
Can You let me in on your plan?
Are You the only one that knows?
Do you want to keep me guessing?
Are you going to use him too?
Is this all a part of Your will?
Is this what you called me to do?
Chorus
What a sweet mystery!
What a sweet mystery!
Was blind but now I see
It's such a sweet mystery
What a sweet mystery!
What a sweet mystery!
Was blind but now I see
It's such a sweet mystery
It's such a sweet mystery
It's such a sweet mystery
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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The God Called Poetry
Now I begin to know at last,
These nights when I sit down to rhyme,
The form and measure of that vast
God we call Poetry, he who stoops
And leaps me through his paper hoops
A little higher every time.
Tempts me to think I'll grow a proper
Singing cricket or grass-hopper
Making prodigious jumps in air
While shaken crowds about me stare
Aghast, and I sing, growing bolder
To fly up on my master's shoulder
Rustling the thick strands of his hair.
He is older than the seas,
Older than the plains and hills,
And older than the light that spills
From the sun's hot wheel on these.
He wakes the gale that tears your trees,
He sings to you from window sills.
At you he roars, or he will coo,
He shouts and screams when hell is hot,
Riding on the shell and shot.
He smites you down, he succours you,
And where you seek him, he is not.
To-day I see he has two heads
Like Janus--calm, benignant, this;
That, grim and scowling: his beard spreads
From chin to chin' this god has power
Immeasurable at every hour:
He first taught lovers how to kiss,
He brings down sunshine after shower,
Thunder and hate are his also,
He is YES and he is NO.
The black beard spoke and said to me,
'Human frailty though you be,
Yet shout and crack your whip, be harsh!
They'll obey you in the end:
Hill and field, river and marsh
Shall obey you, hop and skip
At the terrour of your whip,
To your gales of anger bend.'
The pale beard spoke and said in turn
'True: a prize goes to the stern,
But sing and laugh and easily run
Through the wide airs of my plain,
Bathe in my waters, drink my sun,
And draw my creatures with soft song;
They shall follow you along
Graciously with no doubt or pain.'
Then speaking from his double head
The glorious fearful monster said
'I am YES and I am NO,
Black as pitch and white as snow,
Love me, hate me, reconcile
Hate with love, perfect with vile,
So equal justice shall be done
And life shared between moon and sun.
Nature for you shall curse or smile:
A poet you shall be, my son.'
poem by Robert Graves
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Romancing The Beard
What women are attracted to
Though to some it may seem weird
Is a man who has a curl-i-que
That we’ve come to call a beard
They seem to love what’s hair-ly
On the chin and down below
That hair they find so rarely
Is that hair that they can’t grow
They love that tickly feeling
When caressing bearded men
Those beards just send them reeling
For those men they have a yen
These ladies have this craving
For men with chin filled bristles
These men who do no shaving
Who have these chin filled frizzles
A beard can really dazzle
When covering a jawline
With it’s sexy kind of frazzle
It can dazzle any fraulein
poem by Stanley Cooper
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My father started growing very quiet as Alzheimer's started claiming more of him. The early stages of Alzheimer's are the hardest because that person is aware that they're losing awareness. And I think that that's why my father started growing more and more quiet.
quote by Patti Davis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Summer's Coming
In my head I hear a humming,
Summer, summer summer's coming,
Soon we're going on vacation,
But there is a complication,
Day by day the problem's growing,
We don't know yet where we're going,
Mother likes the country best,
That's so she can read and rest,
Dad thinks resting is a bore,
He's for fishing at the shore,
Sister says swimming's cool,
Swimming in the swimming pool,
I don't care,
I'd be happy anywhere,
In my head I hear a humming,
Summer, summer, summer's coming,
Soon we're going on vacation,
But we have a complication,
Day by day the problem's growing,
Where oh where will we be going?
poem by Sophie Shaw
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sitting
Oh Im on my way, I know I am, somewhere not so far
From here
All I know is all I feel right now, I feel the power growing
In my hair
Sitting on my own not by myself, everybodys here with me
I dont need to touch your face to know, and I dont need to
Use my eyes to see
I keep on wondering if I sleep too long, will I always wake
Up the same (or so)?
And keep on wondering if I sleep too long, will I even wake up
Again or something
Oh Im on my way I know I am, but times there were when
I thought not
Bleeding half my soul in bad company, I thank the moon i
Had the strength to stop
Im not making love to anyones wishes, only for that light I see
cause when Im dead and lowered low in my grave, thats gonna
Be the only thing thats left of me
And if I make it to the waterside, will I even find me a boat
(or so)?
And if I make it to the waterside, Ill be sure to write you
Not or something
Oh Im on my way, I know I am, somewhere not so far
From here
All I know is all I feel right now, I feel the power growing
In my hair
Oh life is like a maze of doors and they all open from the
Side youre on
Just keep on pushing hard boy, try as you may
Youre going to wind up where you started from
Youre going to wind up where you started from
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As Bald As My Boot (Fun Poem 79)
I woke up one morning
my hair all over the pillow
where my head should be.
I looked in the mirror
and was shocked at what confronted me.
My head was as bald as my boot.
My wife screamed, “We’ll have none of that! ”
She then started combing like mad
our poor old cat.
“I’m going to make you a toupee.”
Now whenever my hair gets wet
I start smelling like something
that popped out of a smelly old dustbin.
She never did say which end the hair came from,
the front or the rear.
I’ll leave you to guess that little bit of fun.
23 May 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Started A Joke
I started a joke. Which started the whole world crying.
But I didn't see that the joke was on me.
Oh, no, I started to cry. Which started the whole world laughing.
Oh, if I'd only seen that the joke was on me.
I looked at the skies. Running my hands over my eyes.
And I fell out of bed. Hurting my heads from things that I said.
Till I finally died. Which started the whole world living.
Oh, if I'd only seen that the joke was on me.
I looked at the skies. Running my hands over my eyes.
And I fell out of bed. Hurting my head from things that I said.
Till I finally died. Which started the whole world living.
Oh, if I'd only seen that the joke was on me.
Oh, no, that the joke was on me. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
song performed by by Wallflowers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Started A Joke
I started a joke. Which started the whole world crying.
But I didn't see that the joke was on me.
Oh, no, I started to cry. Which started the whole world laughing.
Oh, if I'd only seen that the joke was on me.
I looked at the skies. Running my hands over my eyes.
And I fell out of bed. Hurting my heads from things that I said.
Till I finally died. Which started the whole world living.
Oh, if I'd only seen that the joke was on me.
I looked at the skies. Running my hands over my eyes.
And I fell out of bed. Hurting my head from things that I said.
Till I finally died. Which started the whole world living.
Oh, if I'd only seen that the joke was on me.
Oh, no, that the joke was on me. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
song performed by by Wallflowers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Started A Joke
I started a joke
Which started the whole world crying
Oh but I didnt see
That the joke was on me...oh no..
And I started to cry
Which started the whole world laughing
Oh if Id only seen
That the joke was on me
And I looked at the skies
Running my hands
Over my eyes
And I fell out of bed
Cursing my head
For things that Ive said
Till I finally died
Which started the whole world living
Oh if Id only seen
That the joke was on me
And I looked at the skies
Running my hands
Over my eyes
And I fell out of bed
Cursing my head
For things that Ive said
Till I finally died
Which started the whole world living
Oh if Id only seen
That the joke was on me
That the joke was on me.........me.........
song performed by by Faith No More
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That Was Almost
Me now travol trom home
To town me find a lot of pipo running away
Me don know wat has happened
Me suddenly find da police van pull up
Dey say they want to take me
I ask dem wat I have done
Da police laugh and dey hit me in da belly
Me triy to run dey thro me down
One police man shouted he didn't do wrong
Me triy to say dey hit me in da belly
Now wat happened was a night mare
They hit me in da belly
Dey rolling me like a chicken
Dey called me thief
Dey kicked me a lot but me started to cry
Dey laugh and laugh but I stoped to cry
Now what happened was heaven
I got up I hit one in head
And he started to cry
Den suddenly all of dem ran after me
Me started to shake almost urinated
Suddenly dey caught me den me started to sing
Dey laughed dey laugh
Den I started to remove my cloths
Dey now thot I was mad person
Dey quickly got back in the van as they thot dey caught da wrong person
Den me ran home
I told my mom dat was so close
poem by Tanaka Chirombo
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Hairy Woes
(This not a poem. One day I thought whether I could write about hair problems and this is what I could come up with. Have a good hair day.)
Oh all the balding men of the world! Neither split your hair nor let your hair down; instead, get up to fight against hair experts and hair industries because, you have nothing to loss except hairs, which you are already losing anyway.
The scientific study published in, 'International Journal of Fake Studies', has proven beyond doubt that, all kinds of hairs and particularly black hairs, absorb sun light and thus indirectly contribute to the global warming whereas, shining bald pates reflect sun light back into the atmosphere, thus help to make earth’s climate cool. So taking these facts in account, bald persons should be given the tax rebate in form of carbon credits whereas, high taxation should be levied on persons with hair for leaving carbon footprints behind.
It is true my friend, that you are paying the tax as well as losing your hair, but try to imagine a plight of less fortunate ones, who neither earn enough money to pay the tax nor have enough hair to loss.
'Son! Why do you worry about your hair problems; get me mustards seeds from the home, that doesn't have hair problems', thus spake enlightened sage, hearing which young man became calm.
The biggest cause of hair fall, dandruff and other hair related problems is existence of hair.
No person with hair on his head, can solve all your hair problems, neither can the person without hair.
As, not all the armies of the world, can stop the idea whose time has come so, not all the hair experts can stem the progress of baldness, whose time has come.
Only two things are universal, hair problems and human stupidity, but I have doubt about former, thus spake Einstein of hair science.
Not all the trichologists, dermatologists and hair experts together, armed with shampoos, hair oils, hair dyes and herbal ointments can cure all the hair ailments, as long as hairs are there.
As long as hairs are there, there are going to be hair problems, similarly as long as shrinks are there, there are going to be mental problems.
The hair industry expands their business by perpetuating the two myths, first is there are more hair at unwanted place and other is, there are less hair at desired place.
Hair here, hair there, hair everywhere similarly: problem here, problem there, problem everywhere.
He fell in love with her hair and married the whole girl, soon he was without hair.
In early part of his life man losses his hair to earn money then he uses same money to gain hair back.
Don't bask in a glory of the hair, you used to have in past, instead tell me, do you have gorgeous hair now?
There is some truth in a myth that the bald men are fortunate; to begin with, they don't have to spend their fortune on comb, hair products, hair cuts and last but not least girls.
There are more blondes on streets of India than women of the rest of the world put together; thanks to Garnier. Take Care.
White hair is nothing but a flag hoisted by a tired life, signaling armistice with hostile time, which eventually leads to surrender to the death.
Blessed are the monks who shave their hair themselves, a symbol of a vanity of the world, because nature is going to destroy that vanity eventually anyhow.
Oh Sinner! Vain is your attempt to hide your sins, for sins will shine in your life as bald pate shines through the sparse tufts of hair.
It is irony that the monks who do not care for their hair often have beautiful and luxuriant hair.
Trees are nothing but hair of Gaia, the earth; if you destroy, them then earth too would take her revenge by creating conditions, that won't allow the hair to stay on your crown.
More often than not, one owns heir are responsible for one owns hair fall.
If you cannot prevent hair fall, enjoy it.
15/01/2011
Dr Hitesh C Sheth
poem by Hitesh Sheth
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Jealousy
She wore braids in her hair
every single day.
Not because she wanted to.
It was her mother's way.
She braided them so tightly.
She thought her head would break.
Sometimes just the thought of them
would make her poor head ache.
'Why can't I have my hair
flowing down my back?
Her mother's frown would let her know
to try some other tact..
'Mother can we cut it
just above my shoulder? '
the answer that was given was
'Not until you're older.'
And so she wore her hair like this.
She never wore it down.
When at night she unbraided it
she looked just like a clown.
She knew she would cut it
the very next day
right in front of her mother
to see what she would say.
Her mother watched and sat down
and had a cup of tea.
Her mother simply said
'Now you're more beautiful than me.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Ode to Baldness
Heads that shine are “oh so fine”
And mostly trouble free
No hair to fly when wind is high
They’re always slick and neat
No hairspray or Brylcreem to buy
No brushes or pocket combs
And many ladies, I’ve heard it said,
Are fond of the old chrome dome
That must be why so many these days
Full heads of hair will shave
But, you can’t shave hair that isn’t there
I got mine the natural way
Now, you men of poetic métier
Whose hair has taken leave
Just write a verse if you’d care to link
With the bald headed poets’ league
Copyright C R Clark-3/2/2008
poem by C.R. Clark
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A Front Row Seat To Hear Ole Johnny Sing
Now you know some fellahs, they want fame and fortune
Yeah, and other fellahs they just wanna swing
But all I wanted all my life
Was a TV set and a truck and a wife
And a front row seat to hear ole Johnny sing.
Yeah the TV and the truck I got on credit.
And I got that girl with a little old Woolworth ring
And life was warm and life was sweet
But still, it was kinda incomplete
Without a front row seat to hear ole Johnny sing.
chorus:
Hey, John you walk the line,
Do 'Deelia' one more time
And when you do them Cottonfields
You warm this heart of mine.
So, one day I thought, Hey, I'm gonna do it!
(That's what I said)
So, I mortgaged the farm and pawned her wedding ring.
I sold the gold tooth out of my mouth
And jumped in the pickup and headed South.
For a front row seat to hear ole Johnny sing.
I hit Nashville cold and wet and hungry.
I said, 'I'm here, bring him on let him do his thing.'
But they told me down at the Old Pit Grill
I'd have to go all the way to Andersonville
For a front row seat to hear ole Jonny sing.
I found his house knocked on the door and it was opened
By a brown-haired girl and a baby with a teethin' ring.
I said 'I seen you somewhere before
but don't stand there and block the door
I want a front row seat to hear ole Johnny sing.'
(chorus)
She said I'd have to go down to The Opry
And the feller there said I'd have to wait till Spring.
He said, 'We've been sold out for months and months
And this poor insane fellah wants
A front row seat to hear ole Johnny sing.'
Well, he said a couple more things, and I started cryin'
And then he laughed at me and that's when I started to swing.
Well I bust through the doors in a roaring rage,
Crawled over the crowd till I reached the stage
For a front row seat to hear ole Johnny sing.
(chrous)
Then some crazy guard started shootin'
I shot back, and the next thing I know I was winged
and on the floor
When a guy in a voice kinda deep and low
Says, 'Boy that's a mighty long way to go
For a front row seat to hear ANYBODY sing.'
And I guess that judge, he weren't no music lover.
I got fifteen months but that don't mean a thing.
Cos' yesterday in the prison yard
A show come through and HAR! de HAR!
I had a front row seat to hear ole Johnny sing.
(chorus plus some typical Shel ranting and raving)
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Love You
When I was younger man I hadn't a care
Foolin' around, hitting the town, growing my hair
You came along and stole my heart when you entered my life
Ooh girl you got what it takes wanna make you my wife
Since then I never looked back
It's almost like living a dream
And ooh I love you
You came along from far away and found me here
I was playin' around, feeling down, hittin' the beer
You picked me up from off the floor and gave me a smile
You said you're much too young, your life ain't begun, let's walk for awhile
And as my head was spinnin' 'round
I gazed into your eyes
Ooh I want you
Thank you girl for being a friend
And shinin' your light in my life
'cause ooh I need you
As my head was comin' round
I gazed into your eyes
And thought ooh I want you
Thanks again for being my friend
And straightenin' out my life
'cause ooh I need you
Since then I never looked back
It's almost like livin' a dream
Ooh I got you
If ever a man had it all
It would have to be me
And ooh I love you
song performed by by Nine Days
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Growing In The Vale
Growing in the vale
By the uplands hilly,
Growing straight and frail,
Lady Daffadowndilly.
In a golden crown,
And a scant green gown
While the spring blows chilly,
Lady Daffadown,
Sweet Daffadowndilly.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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