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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
I Grew My Hair Out
I finally grew my hair out.
I had tried before, but it frightened me.
It grew large, thick, black and wavy,
The hair my ancestors gave me.
They wore it long and free.
I finally grew my hair out,
And a friend said 'You look like a Greek god.'
And I said 'Which one? '
And he said 'I don't know. The chubby one that drank wine.'
And I thought about red wine
And the delighted laughter of women
About the hooves and horns
That I'd hidden inside my head
And had forgotten about, before I ever knew them.
But they were there all along, waiting.
Then I grew my hair out.
poem by Edward Allen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Haircut
I have wooly, wavy, woozy silvery hair
Cut just 20% you earn your fare
In bad trim down
Make sure I won't look like a clown.
With white cover she cuts away,
Her scissors, snip, snip night and day.
In mirror see my hair disappear
Trimmed nicely above each ear.
Finally touched my hair—few curls,
The more she accommodates I would adore.
Finish look seems more like 30% gone,
Hair wetted, scalped, I mirror no fun.
Next time another barber or good cutter
Better not scalp me" I sadly angry mutter
For well-kept hair on head?
I'd rather make more love in bed.
poem by Arthur Weil
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
So Many Different Hairstyles
Braids, pigtails, buns,
So many different hairstyles.
Blondes, brunettes, redheads,
So many different colours.
Red, purple, orange,
So many different dyes.
Mohawks, buzz, mushroom,
So many different haircuts.
Bangs, trims, layers,
So many different hair fashions.
Curly, wavy, straight,
So many different hair types.
Short, medium, long,
So many different lengths.
Bald, thick, thin,
So many different hairs.
Gel, hairspray, mousse,
So many different hair glues.
Bobby pins, clips, pencils.
So many different accessories.
Scrunchies, hair bands, elastics,
So many different frills.
Straightener, curler, blow-dryer,
So many different electric devices,
Comb, brush, separator,
So many different appliances.
poem by Janneke Tenvoorde
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
His Lock Of Hair
I looked at him and thought to myself
I must keep a lock of his hair.
So I clipped it while he was asleep
for there would soon be none to spare.
I remember when I saw him first
his hair was what caught my sight,
so full and wavy catching the light
as dark as a moonless night.
I would run my fingers through it
and see a smile on his face.
I would watch and see him groom it.
Not a strand was out of place.
Little by little it was not as full
and the treasure I would see
was slowly leaving as days went by
and I knew eventually
that his beautiful crown of glory
would become a thing of the past.
And so the lock of hair I clipped
was saved so it would last.
For now that his hair has fallen away.
I show him the lock I did save.
He smiles again as he's done before
as he finishes his morning shave.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I had beautiful wavy hair and a waxed mustache.
quote by Curly Howard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
Cinquain: Hair
Hair
Wavy, Curly
Washing, Shampooing, Conditioning
The ladies love it
Banging
poem by Albert Solis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mother Goddess
a circle of stars over
her head
hands holding white
flowers
her feet on top
of a snake
her long black hair
smooth skin
wavy eyelashes
slender fingers
virgin
pure
mother of all
in plaster of Paris
painted and revered
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Girl I Love She Got Long Black Wavy Hair
Whoah, the girl I love, she got long black wavy hair
I do declare!
The girl I love, yeah, she got long black wavy hair,
Ah yeah,
Her mother and her father, lordy,
They sure dont, sure dont allow me there.
Well i, Im goin back to my baby, lord i,
I swear I wouldnt lie, yeah
I never saw that sweet woman yeah in-a
A-five long years gone by, yeah.
Well Im goin ho__me, Im goin home
cause shes a sweet little darlin, ah
I said I been away, ahh-far too long,
I been away too long.
Take it jimmy!
Well, my baby when...
She shakes just like a willow tree,
Yes she does.
My baby, when she walks, ya know
She shakes like a willow tree, yeah.
Ah-that mean, mistreatin baby she know she
Hop, hops all over me.
Oooh.
Yeah!
Alright!
Hops over me...
song performed by by Led Zeppelin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Strange
The strangest man
I’d ever met
is a man
I won’t forget.
He entered my life
one fine day
and departed
in a similar way.
He looked a man,
but I’m not sure.
He rarely shaved:
but was mature.
Sparkling blue eyes,
pale and fair,
slim and tall,
with wavy hair.
We worked together
almost every day,
but he never spoke
of love or play.
He never mentioned
his past life,
a mother or father,
child or wife.
Often I tried
to weigh him up,
but he had drank
from many a cup.
Journeying to work
one misty day,
I saw him lying
by the highway.
With a finger severed,
lying in mud,
deep cuts on his face,
but there was no blood!
Strange!
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Likeness.....
THE MIRROR
limits what we are
there is no shadow
behind us
only the face and the likeness
of it
flat and staring
and clear.
THERE IS
another face at the back of our mind
opaque
silent
and deep
seated sockets
and wavy eyelashes
and well kept hair
and smooth skin
and glowing
WE HAVE NOT
seen much of it
But we shall always feel it
yes,
at the back of our minds
wanting
to find us.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Little Girl With Curly Hair
there is this little girls with black curly hair
flat nose, thin eyelashes, wavy goatish eyelids,
sitting on a bamboo pole
(the common furniture there)
with bare hands and bare feet
staring at me,
for i am new here and i have a big tummy
and i am white skinned, and i have candied
inside my pockets, she knows that soon
i will throw all these candies in the air
for all the other children
but there is something strange about this
little brown girl with curly hair sitting all alone
on that bamboo chair
her father and mother were killed in the last rebellion.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The 90's are the 60's standing on their head.
quote by Wavy Gravy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sure, I could of done it different... put my clown in a closet and dressed up in straight clothing. I could of compromised my essence, and swallowed my soul.
quote by Wavy Gravy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Gimme All Your Lovin' Or I Will Kill You
he drives a g wagon
and he looks just like my dream
I been climbin' all his mountains
I been swimming all his seas
no matter what or how I tried
I couldn't get the man to fall in love with me
turns out he likes the girls with long and wavy hair
mine is short and kinky
I have lost my mind
c'mon and
gimme all your lovin'
or I will kill you
put one through your head
gimme all your lovin'
or I will kill you
and cry when you're dead
his whole body was shaking
and he holla'd when he fell to his knees
I held tighter to my ak
he said please please whatever you need
see I have searched the wide world
to find the peace for the war in me
don't wanna look no further
but you refuse to give it to me
and I have lost my mind
c'mon and
gimme all your lovin'
or I will kill you
put one through your head
gimme all your lovin'
or I will kill you
and cry when you're dead
it's amazing what a gun to the head can do
my baby loves me now as hard as he can
my methods may be suspect
but you gotta get love however you can
I have lost my mind!
song performed by by Macy Gray from The ID
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Hairbrush
how i wish my fingers were the bristles
or my breath were the wind when it whistles
thru your hair, thru your hair
i wish you'd hold me in your hands
and let me skate thru all the strands
of your hair, of your hair
i could style it anyway you like it
i could brush it straight or even spike it
au contraire! au contraire!
or i would wait patiently in my box
until next i would comb the locks
of your hair, of your hair
i would braid it tight, tousle, and tease!
or pull it back in a ponytail, if you please;
if you dare, if you dare
how often is it a man confesses
that he wish to run barefoot thru the tresses
of your hair, of your hair?
you may think me a little touch'd
but can i tell you just how much
i hate your hairbrush?
this obsession may be zealous
but can i tell you just how jealous
i am of your hairbrush? !
poem by Rev. Dr. A. Jacob Hassler
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
Pigtail
When all the women in the transport
had their heads shaved
four workmen with brooms made of birch twigs
swept up
and gathered up the hair
Behind clean glass
the stiff hair lies
of those suffocated in gas chambers
there are pins and side combs
in this hair
The hair is not shot through with light
is not parted by the breeze
is not touched by any hand
or rain or lips
In huge chests
clouds of dry hair
of those suffocated
and a faded plait
a pigtail with a ribbon
pulled at school
by naughty boys.
Translated by Adam Czerniawski
poem by Tadeusz Ròzewicz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The First Day Of Your New Life (from Mount Sinai)
Along the path
Red currants of light
The sun through a veil
Sky so clear
Cloud like a hip
In your paper robe
A cup of gold
Near your left wrist
Wavy locks of hair
Smile on her flowery face
Every dawn
A sacred mirror of my life
(Music by Motohiko Hirami)
(Translation by Ólöf Pétursdóttir)
poem by Nicolas Grenier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!