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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Related quotes
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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The Best Way to Comb the Blonde Hair
Years is the worst unforgivable hairstylist
He cuts my hair short;
shorter than our short story..
He cuts my hair off;
off the last relationship..
Now it's 4 sharp in the afternoon,
i, wooden, seize the comb, wooden.
Mirror does not tell lies
age can only climb high.
the comb runs through my hair
my hair flows through somewhere
more strands of hair are gone..
more worries are born
I forget how I combed hair
back in those years..
A young blonde is coming..
and i gonna ask her this question.
poem by Garland Jodie Jeen
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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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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)
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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Elongated Hair
She 'done gone and did it'
She pulled it out
The elongated hair on my side
Oh how I did pout
It had grown long before
Back in earlier days
I had kept it short myself
using several different ways
After time had gone by
I wanted to let it grow
I decided to give it a try
and become a freak show
I'd let it grow down to my hips
or maybe to my knees
this hair could grow up to my lips
or at least to my kidneys
She'd noticed it that day in passing
while feeling 'round my tummy
I had thought she'd just been sassing
She said, 'I'll cut it off you dummy'
I did protest then to her notion
It smelled of sheer butchery
To cut of this hair in such a motion
would be a crime to both it and me!
Then came the day when it happened
While I lay in her bed so quietly
The life of my hair would come to an end
with a tug from her hand so quickly
I had mourned it for a moment
and I'm sure I looked sad
whatever had been her intent
I told myself it could not be bad
So now it has another chance
to begin a life anew
Elongated hair please do advance
Again I'd like to see you.
poem by Sean Furlong
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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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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
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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
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Aish is all graceful
Be in ultra modern jeans, with hair cropped,
Be in curves with a bikini, with hair cascading,
Be in swimming suit, with hair dripping,
Be in top and middy, with hair thrown back,
Be in velvet chudidhar, with hair hiding the cheeks,
Be in saree and blouse, with hair loosely knotted,
Be with chemise on breasts, with hair permed and ornamented,
Be on cotton saree, with hair made to bun,
Be in half saree and blouse, with hair tightly plaited,
Or be in any fashion that comes into being,
The actress Aish is blooming and beaming,
What not is the fashion or style for Aish, all the grace?
19.10.2000
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Brilliantine
This hair,
They never looked her way,
Never understood from where she came
And digressed on the story of the grease
In her hair.
There was none.
They never touched her face,
Looked her way,
Nor saw importance in the moment
When she needed one
To hold her hand.
Or take the time for her
When it was called for.
It was the glossy brilliantine.
And the hidden styling.
The face again,
Which had the tendency to glance away.
And the hair which had no grease.
The clear hair that shone of cleanliness
In the light of the dirty windows.
The brown hair
Giving importance to the chrome
Of her eyes.
But they never looked away,
Digressing on the story of the grease
In her hair.
poem by Sammy Edrisi
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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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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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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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For a Good Cause and Care
Tides are high
Tides are deep
With a sigh
I cannot sleep,
Thinking of my long hair
I wish I could keep.
To cut it I would not dare
For I know it is a part of me.
However I know that hair
Grows back within each week
And I know I have the heart to share.
Even though for a moment I will weep,
It is for a good cause and care,
For my hair will grow back everytime I sleep
Just as much as tides are high
Tides are deep
Even if they go away in a chime,
They come back and up the beach they creep
Every day and for all of time.
So I know I can always keep
My hair for it will grow as tides do each time
As the seas swells and heaves as it sleeps.
poem by Music Galore
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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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All Different, But Still The Same
Some people have short hair, some have long.
Some people have thick hair; some people’s hair is all gone.
Some people have black hair, some have gray.
Some people have brown hair, some blonde, some red.
Some people’s hair a color unsaid.
Some people are short, some people are tall.
Some people will love you; some won’t like you at all.
Some people like hot weather, some like cold.
Some people are timid, some people are bold.
Some people have dark skin, some people have light.
Some people have black skin, some people have white.
Some people eat meat; some won’t touch it at all.
Some people have a good memory, some can’t recall.
Some people accept Christ, some never will.
Some people are stingy, some people give.
Some people like school, some people don’t.
Some people will excel, some people won’t.
Some people smoke cigarettes, some never will.
Some people are honest, some people steal.
Some people have book knowledge;
But don’t know the Holy Book.
Some people burn food, some people can cook.
Some people are old, some people are young.
Some people do smart things, some people do dumb.
Some people just have a diploma
Some people have degrees.
Some people do things slow, some with a breeze.
Some people are complainers, some easy to please.
Some people hate shopping, some stay in the mall.
Some people hate God, but God loves us all.
We are all different, but still the same.
When I get cut, I bleed red;
You get cut, red blood you’ll shed.
Some people are plump, some people are thin.
But we are all the same, we’re all human being.
Copyright © 2010-Phyllis Strong
poem by Phyllis Strong
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There was this thing written that I had gone into a candle store, and my hair went up in flames because of all the hair spray. First of all, I never have hair spray in my hair, and I've never even heard of this store, and my hair has never been burned.
quote by Nicolette Sheridan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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angry
' why are you so angry, ' the girl with the red hair asked me.
'why are YOU so angry, girl with the red hair'
'That's not important were here to talk about you.'
'Could you quit calling me that? '
'NO'
'I wasn't asking'
'But I was telling ya, girl with the red hair'
'lets get back to your anger'
'But i thought we were talking about your anger, so what makes you angry, ms'
'what makes you.angry, girl with the red hair? '
'you calling me that name what name, Girl with the red hair? '
'yes'
'why does it make you angry, girl with the red hair? '
'because all my life people have picked on me because of my RED HAIR.'
'O, well sorry to hear that'
'yeah'
'Well now that we atlked about your anger lets talk about mine...'
poem by Ke'Love Moss
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A girl with curls...! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
I don’t like my curly hair.
Everyday I say a prayer.
God, please make my hair straight.
I want to make two long plaits.
Do you think He hears my plea?
Oh, she asked innocently of me.
Dear, you look truly like an angel.
But they are always entangled.
Please, please pray for me.
I want hair like you, you see.
Do you think He really loves me?
Darling, He loves everyone you see.
Then why did he make my hair curly.
He loves you very, very dearly.
On hearing this she did a jig.
He must have a heart really big.
I just can’t love everyone.
That boy who teases me, for one.
Then she clapped and ran about.
Kicking the ball, scream and shout.
Forgot all about her curls.
How dainty is my little girl!
Of Anika, for Anika, my grand daughter
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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