MO CAILIN ALAINN RUA(My Beautiful Red Haired Girl) /RED RIVER/WEARING HER HAIR - Sequence
MO CAILIN ALAINN RUA
(My Beautiful Red Haired Girl)
Your hair
taken by the wind
blown
into flame
a fiery red
Medussa
standing on
the edge
of this
mountain
a world
turned to stone
as if your gaze
froze this landscape
into place.
I too
still as stone
your hair
flaring up into the air
fiery snakes
like thoughts
bursting out of your mind
fighting the sunset
that only
a small box camera
captures
& contains
this photo
cutting off your head
from the rest of you
mythical
untouchable
mo cailin alainn rua
mo cailin alainn rua.
***
RED RIVER
Your hair
trickles down your back
in curls...curls
curl after curl
rivers of ringlets
cascading down your spine.
I want to drown
in the waters of your hair.
You wear a waterfall
over each shoulder
The fiery flames
of your tresses
crashing over thigh & hip & buttock!
My hands
like fishes
swimming all over
your body
splashed with the beauty
of your hair
touching & touching
the sheer
nakedness
of
you.
***** **
WEARING HER HAIR
You stand
before me
dressed only
in the dress
that your hair
weaves about you
naked
yet
not
you wear
your hair
as a magical
garment
from a half remembered half forgotten fairytale.
You undress
throwing your hair over each shoulder
I come to you as if a spell
commanded me to & you
wrap me
in your hair.
Both our
nakedness
wearing your hair
sheltered here
lost amongst
kisses.
***
A fellow poet(well, it wasn't a fella) divulged that she too was red of the hair(this had been unknown to me) and so this homage to redheads came into being just on this wisp of information...the memories and images flood back into being.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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!
The Ying & Yang Of Her Hair
One day I tell her
I love her hair
up.
Another day I tell her
I like her hair
down.
“Which is it? ”
She frowns
“Up
or
down! ”
“Ah...”
I say
“Either
or neither! ”
“I love your hair
up
in that it can
come down
splash all over me.”
“And I love your hair down
in that it can be
put up
in a cathedral of curls! ”
“I love the one
becoming the other
…the process of
becoming! ”
You leave the room
only to return
with one side up
& one side down.
I laugh.
“Not quite what
I had intended.
You throw yourself
into my lap
let your hair
waterfall
all over me
& I
drown... drown
poem by Dónall Dempsey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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)
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Curl
You curl, you know how to curl,
Yes you know a curl in your hair
And you curl yourself like a
Hair, in your bed,
It is so cold and no one
Sleeps here
No one comes
There is no hello
As guest and no
Hi to pretend
You are coming
Well, you curl, you know how to curl,
Like your hair,
This time, curl forever,
Nothing straight till the end,
Eternal curl,
Still
Touch it
It bounces and rebounces,
touch it again,
and be silent
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
Fifteen
You curl, you know how to curl,
Yes you know a curl in your hair
And you curl yourself like a
Hair, in your bed,
It is so cold and no one
Sleeps here
No one comes
There is no hello
As guest and no
Hi to pretend
You are coming
Well, you curl, you know how to curl,
Like your hair,
This time, curl forever,
Nothing straight till the end,
Eternal curl,
Still
Touch it
It bounces and re-bounces,
touch it again,
and be silent
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
0358 One for Bill
Redheads, with their fiery hair
oft have a temper that can scare.
Can God and Nature so conspire
to scarify with hair and fire?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tonight I Draw Your Hair
Tonight I draw your hair,
A hair of simplicity,
With a mysterious beauty,
That no one can ever resist,
A hair that blooms with the sun,
That always shines every sunrise,
And turns into deep black at sunset,
A hair of smooth silk,
That touches my face like a baby,
And comforts my soul into a sleeping baby,
Like the lullaby that can put me into sleep,
Your hair blooms unlike any other.
-GanNi
poem by Geovanni Leaño
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
Shinning gem's
so special is your hair
without
a seconds and
a countless of gesture, your
fingers wish
to touch
your glooming
hair
in your head
looking back the comb
that splashes the
thinned
shinning hair, as it flashes
all the oily
smooth curly strands, where
between its
length
the little tiny lies wish
to reach
the bottom
views of the beautiful
hair
my bosom friend
love to settle
her magnificent glows of gems
I kept it a
blinks for a while, tempted
to smell
wondering what
would it be, yet!
so fulfilling
to
blow the wind
dazzling to reach the
alluring hair
of my beloved
friend, the only precious
gems she
possess until, the beautiful
angelic hair lost it’s
fragrance of
existence, a glimpse of
dust mesmerize
the memories of the YOU
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ponytail Girl
Ponytail girl, twirl your hair
So that all may know
Your shiny flair.
Ponytail girl, you don't care
That people always question
How you wear that hair.
Ponytail girl, may I ask?
If your hair were any other way,
Would it be like a mask?
Ponytail girl,
I'd just like to say,
I hope you wear that hair
Just as proudly each day.
poem by Amelia Patterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!