Black is color of my true love's hair
So many songs have been written about my love.
The beautiful color of my true love's hair. The hair of a powerful beauty.
Black as a wormhole or as simple as a crayon.
Made of ions, electrons and protons, my love must have created all things
for her hair supports everything.
From the planets, moons, suns, constellations and universes. My true love has no prejudice or hatred for any one being instead love for all she creates.
Her face lights up planets and her waters house life while her skin supports all walking creatures and four legged enigmas.
Her eyes are stars gazers while her smiles are super novas
and her beautiful black hair is simply the dark matter in space.
poem by Josephe Buchanan
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Related quotes
Black Is The Color Of My True Loves Hair
Traditional
Black is the color of my true loves hair
His face so soft and wondrous fair
The purest eyes
And the strongest hands
I love the ground on where he stands
I love the ground on where he stands
Black is the color of my true loves hair
Of my true loves hair
Of my true loves hair
Oh I love my lover
And where he goes
Yes, I love the ground on where he goes
And still I hope
That the time will come
When he and I will be as one
When he and I will be as one
So black is the color of my true loves hair
Black is the color of my true loves hair
Black is the color of my true loves hair
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: What Isn’t Beautiful?
What is not beautiful? What isn’t ugly?
’Tis the beholder who decides ably!
Beauty is not just color or contour;
’Tis the perception of the gray-matter!
To appreciate you need two things unlike;
Beauty exists even if you dislike;
Beauty is there in both white and in black;
There is true of Nature, when you think back.
Beautiful’s the wisdom of the old man,
And the silver hair of the old woman;
There is much beauty even in a thorn!
And the wildest flower that you scorn.
Things in Nature have an innate beauty!
Appreciation, our bounden duty.
poem by John Celes
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Oh Who Is That Young Sinner
Oh who is that young sinner with the handcuffs on his wrists?
And what has he been after that they groan and shake their fists?
And wherefore is he wearing such a conscience-stricken air?
Oh they're taking him to prison for the color of his hair.
'Tis a shame to human nature, such a head of hair as his;
In the good old time 'twas hanging for the color that it is;
Though hanging isn't bad enough and flaying would be fair
For the nameless and abominable color of his hair.
Oh a deal of pains he's taken and a pretty price he's paid
To hide his poll or dye it of a mentionable shade;
But they've pulled the beggar's hat off for the world to see and stare,
And they're taking him to justice for the color of his hair.
Now 'tis oakum for his fingers and the treadmill for his feet,
And the quarry-gang on Portland in the cold and in the heat,
And between his spells of labor in the time he has to spare
He can curse the God that made him for the color of his hair.
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
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Loves Got A Hold On Me
Words and music by rick nielsen, robin zander & bun e. carlos
Your love has got me
Its got a hold on me, a hold on me
Your love has got me
Its got a hold on me
Youre not the first one
Youre not the last one
Youre not even the in between
Youve got the power, this is your hour
You crawl through harlem
On your hands and knees
Its not the way you look
The way you walk and the color of your hair
Its not the way you look
The way you talk and the color of your hair
Your love has got me
Its got a hold on me, a hold on me
Your love has got me
Its got a hold on me
Well there is something I feel about you
A feelin that just wont let go
Well in an hour, you have the power
The power of love over me
Its not the way you look
The way you walk and the color of your hair (no)
Its not the way you look
The way you talk and the color of your hair
Then you threw it away, you threw it all away
As you walked right out the door
You threw it away, you threw it all away
As you walked right out the door
Your love has got me
Its got a hold on me, a hold on me
Your love has got me
Its got a hold on me, a hold on me
Its got a hold on me
Its got a hold on me
Its got a hold on, hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on me
Your love has got me
Its got a hold on me, a hold on me
Your love has got me
Its got a hold on me, a hold on me
song performed by by Cheap Trick
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
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The true beauty!
The beautiful smile,
The beautiful figure,
The beautiful voice,
A smart guy,
A smiley person, .
A punk attitude.
The pinkish lip,
The reddish white skin,
The moon like face cut.
Black long hair.
Deep blue eyes,
Tough and rough treat,
Can any one of these
Be a standard unit,
To measure the beauty,
Of a man or woman?
Is there any thing to judge,
The true beauty of human?
I think we every one,
Every person in this world,
Blind, deaf, dumb,
Black, white, grayish,
Diseased, disabled,
Rich, poor, middle class,
Whatever he is,
As a human being,
He is the true beauty,
With what he has....
poem by Kafil Uddin Raihan.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Emo Kid
Yes I sit in a dark room
So what?
But still I can hear the devil's voice
He offers me trades
Should I...?
Would I...?
What if, I go crazy with blades?
Would you care if i cut my wrist?
I take the pain from my heart
And put it on my body
So what?
Yes my hair is different from everyone else's
Soo...?
Why is it your problem?
Exactly! ! ITS NOT!
I wear black makeup,
Why?
Because that is my true color
I paint my nail black,
Why?
Because I love how it makes me feel
I love black skinny jeans and high tops,
I love the way I am
I don't plan to change.
Why would I need to?
Oh because you don't like me..
Ok i get it now.
Well if you don't like me..
Don't stay to long.
This is me..
I am an Emo
XxEmoKidxX
poem by Chelseacrazylove Page
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Moonbeam Princess
She walked across the path
In the moonbeams of love
Her grace her beauty
Was heavens gift of love
Her raven long hair
Her slender stealth legs
Carried her afloat
To dance on the moonbeam
That flickers in the night
Her hair swirled
In the pale moonlight
As a cool midnight breeze
Caressed her lovingly
Her gossamer dress
Caressed each curve
Her beauty divine
Made my heart
Skip a beat
Suddenly I wake
In sweat, in fear
Will I ever see?
My true love again.
poem by Kaila George
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I love...
I love…
I love your hair
I love your eyes
I love your voice
I love every thing about you
I love the cute way you dress
I love your cricked smile
I love your dimples
I love every thing about you
I love the ring you always wear
I love the color of your hair
I love your height
I love every thing about you
I love your kindness
I love your love for everything
I love every thing about you
I love you
poem by Kalista Mccart
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Katrini
do you remember how we competed for a painting contest
in high school?
i was always looking at you for inspiration,
you were so beautiful
i got near you to make a scent
of your black silky hair
you were looking at me too
perhaps my black curly hair
complimented yours,
we were drawing something what our parents
did not tell us
it was too late for us to know
their love
was theirs not ours to follow
the year comes talking to me
my very own beautiful sister
how could i have loved you?
nature's foolishness played
a prank on me again,
but no, i didn't mind, my heart
knows how to love anew
it has its own feet to walk me
away and start loving for some
exciting beginnings.................
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The first woman
She’s old but man she is so powerful
In this block,
Her favorite is black
And she makes robots
Makes them love her with a simple
Click.
She’s chinky eyed, reminiscent
Of china, where she is rooted
And she filters light, like she is
Filtering people
She is never true, she is
Doublespeak and she looks so frail
In her blacks and whites
She stabs you in the back
You bleed and you’re out
You just don’t know.
I do not like her, and she knows it
And she has no way of
Entering my door, I have always closed
It for her, or her friends or even
My mother-in-law or even
My wife.
She has no way getting in
But she manages somehow
Inside my dream
There she says she misses me and
Asks me what am I doing to myself
And that she can do everything for
Me
She can be my robot
I refuse. There is no way that she can
Take even a single hair.
She cannot just pretend to be a robot.
That is never true.
I have known her and made
Her a period. She’s small and insignificant
And I want her to leave at once
Go away.
She is power. I do not need her.
Even in my dream.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rolling Down The Hills
(carly simon)
People who have bad times
Write hard luck songs
But when their days are green
They think about love
Sunshine, flowers in a garden
Did I bump you sir?
Im beggin your pardon
Have you seen such a day?
Lets begin it by startin -
And rollin down the hills with me.
People who have short hair
Write short hair songs
But when their hair gets long
They think about winding it around in daisy chains
Waitin for the showers
Just to wash it in the rain
Have you seen such hair?
Well let the wind play -
As youre rollin down the hills with me
People who have no hills
Write songs about plains
But if thats not what you want to do
Well you can jump aboard a bus
Or boat or wooden canoe
I know just the mountain
Thats been waitin for you
Too write songs about the peaks
And the beautiful views -
As youre rollin down the hills with me.
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I love my hair
I love my hair
I always toss it around in the air
As if without a care!
I love my hair
Once I caught the super hair bug
Caught it whilst I slept on an old rug
The super lice were playing scratch, scratch, and scratch
While my fingernails were playing catch, catch and catch
Finally my hair was shaven as there was no cure, no other drug
I wore my head on my shoulder for a while with a distasteful shrug
Hiding underneath a cap with obvious bald patches that seemed to match
I love my hair
Long, golden plaited and brown
Enough to move heads around in town
People just want to come near
And stare! Stare at me! Who is that alien from elsewhere?
My hair is beautifully plaited in strands
This kind of hair fashion is high in demand
So many different styles to experiment with and expand
Today a woman needs to look good, do you understand?
I talk to my hair with oils
I say today I need you to curl
And when I style you,
Stay in place, do not spoil!
I wash my hair twice a day
Maybe when I am old, it would go grey
But for now the beauty is here to stay
I hope so, I definitely pray!
Beware all, take care
I love my hair, I love my hair
Don’t touch! But you can stare
You can stare at how I wear
My beautiful hair!
Try and out-do me if you dare!
I love my hair
I like to show it off
Around me do not sneeze or cough
Or with you I can be horribly tough
Around me do not sneeze or cough
If you don’t want to know the meaning of rough
I mean it, this isn’t a bluff!
I love my hair!
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Ebony Princess
Her hair was as black as the calm of the night
And was as black and as dark as I could see
Her body slowly moved like a bird in flight
I saw her, and I was overwhelmed by her beauty.
Her eyes they shined like a full moon glistened
And her smile was that of a new day sun
My soul before her was locked away in prison
And releasing that key, it had already begun.
Her skin was as soft as the finest silk
And her lips they tempted me with their mystery
Her teeth they sparkled and was white as milk
And her skin, was the color of ebony.
I looked at her and then my look became a stare
She became my muse and also my destiny
Her skin was dark and black was her hair
Then she whispered in my ear, "Don't forget me".
"Don't Forget me", she whispered those words to me
And like a raven with secrets she went away
With her skin so soft and the color of ebony
I pray again that we would meet again one day.
Her name forever is locked inside of my heart
And it will be lost, until to God her name I will confess
Until then if any man asks me who was the beauty of my art
My answer will be, my sweet and beautiful ebony princess.
RANDY L. McCLAVE
poem by Randy McClave
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What can I say of myself
What can I say of myself
That others has said of me
Even though they were always wrong
No, I do not grow a tail at night
No, monkeys have straight hair not I
They say that I abandon
My children for a jail cell in the company of men
They do not know that I do not hate my dark skin
It is the money of whites, their power
That denies me; keep me in the yoke of self hatred
They fear my power to survive
It is greater then their to enslave
Financially and sexually as is the American way
By my black American culture am I made brave
They think that I want their daughters and sons
To bring then over to the beautiful dark side
As they are entice by the art of being black
They want me to mount them to bring
Them closer to the animal that we all are
To praise me they say that I am to articulate to be black
And they want to know if this is my real hair
And they call my skull cap a doo rag
They tell me that they too love fried chicken
And watermelon and can get down with some corn bread and collard green
With smoked ham hocks or neck bones
They want to know why I am so angry
As a black man who should be prove to be born an American
And why I am acting white when I dress preppy
Why don’t I sound black over the phone
They want to know why I eat pig feet
They say that I should get over slavery
But not that the Jews should get over the Holocaust
They want to touch my hair
Their women folks are quick to commit crimes
And blame it on a black man
They think that the lighter my skin color
The less dangerous and friendlier I am.
They tell me that I got rhythm
poem by David E. Patton
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Sight Of The Beautiful
My God what a beautiful sight, its the most beautiful I have ever seen. My Lord it is amazing what you can created by just saying simple words. Sometimes in life things can be simple but other times there that can be a hail storm on a sunny day. Many say that life is hard and death is simple, for as life comes with complication, death comes with freedom of letting go. Oh God, My God oh is this so beautiful, beautiful the stars in the night shy, beautiful as the pillar of creation, beautiful as the earth from the moon, and beautiful as a first kiss. My God Oh God how is this so beautiful? For such simple words as "let there be" can alter into reality, what all of earth should see, something that you have created just for me. Oh God, My God I love you so, for you have showed me the way to all that is beautiful. Oh God, My God for this you are beautiful, as beautiful as a rainbow in the lunar shy, those are rare to see, but so is the one whose eyes are on the sparrow. The things make you beautiful my Lord, and your beauty keeps me going, to see tomorrow, to see another day, to see everyday, and to eventually see you. Oh God My God you created beauty in its magnificence, and you never demand anything in return, only ask to return our love by loving. For we are created by of love, out of love, for the purposes of love, and that you, nay We can not be more beautiful. Oh God My God what a beautiful sight.
poem by Augustus Gatlin
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Behind Waves Of Ebony Hair
I see thou changed thy hair color
For his liking and mine despair
To hide thy beauty to mine dolor
Every time I spy at thou there.
I begged thee to never change
A single hair, or who thou art
For I loved thee known and loved thee strange
With all my love, all mine heart.
Thy look so dark with love's desire
Behind thine waves of thine hair ebony
Hiding from him, revealing to me
Thy secret love of thy hidden desire.
Thou still love me then, thou love me so
Still I'll never be loved, for I don't know.
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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I Sort Beauty, Until I Found Her
I sort beauty, until I found her
It was in the way she looked at me
True beauty is in her eyes
Her eyes melted my heart
Oh.. how she made my heart settle
I sort beauty, until I found her
It was in the way she was herself to me
True beauty means no pretence
Her natural self made me see beauty in her
Oh.. how she exposed a beautiful heart
I sort beauty, until I found her
It was in the way she accepted me
True beauty means true love
Her acts of love made me see love in her
Oh.. how she proved a lovely companion
I sort beauty, until I found her
It was in the way she talked about our future
True beauty means graceful talk
Her character showed a lady of grace
Oh.. how she'll be my child's graceful mother
poem by Nyota Yasulwe
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Mi Hermosa Fay
There is a girl for who I care
With deep brown eyes
And long blonde hair
A natural beauty to behold
The love she has can not be told
Oh how I wish that I was there
To see those eyes
And Stroke that hair
To keep her safe and free from pain
Something she'll never feel again
One day my Fay this will be true
And I will give my love to you
I'll see those eyes
And stroke that hair
And prove to you how much I care
poem by Alex Dixon
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My Beauty
There’s are days when you just wanna feel like a beauty in everyone’s eyes. But there’s always a butt head to make you feel less then you are I believe if you think or know you are then you are. It’s only what you make of it. There are times when I don’t feel beauty at but I think of what I always told myself. “My beauty is not just a pretty face. The beauty I have is a brand new sent of peace. My beauty is lovely peace sense of laughing out loud. My beauty is like an oak wooden chair that my daddyand I love to sit and think in. My beauty is a graceful smile I give her everyday.
My beauty I have is a great sense of style that I have to show the world. My beauty is my fragrant smell of lavender on my skin and hair. Beauty that I want is a 5 star hotel that someday I will stay in when I’m famous. Beauty is my toned color of the skin on my body. My beauty slowly surely of love i feel for you.
Beauty is my sleek smooth skin of my true beauty is deep within me. Now I know the sign of beauty I was bless with.
poem by Evevona Plummer
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