Smell of your hair
rolling over in bed this night
I found a little hidden delight
for on the pillow I smelled your hair
making me wish that you were still there
memories of our time spent together
and how your hair tickled my nose like a feather
made me long for your joyful presence
though you've been gone for a month since
flooding my mind with your laughter and smile
still makes me wish you'd not been gone this long while
will I ever get over you? now, only time will tell
having lived through our breakup, has been total hell
even though my heart continues to billow
each time I smell your hair on your pillow
poem by Jr James D Nall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Pillow Monster Magically Transforms
Pillow Monster magically gets so big
he has magical powers, he never worked out in the gym.
Pillow Monster now has sweet memories,
memories of the Krendoll characters so sweet.
Pillow Monster can't figure out why he feels so happy inside,
he now has a colorful outfit with a bigger tie,
Pillow Monster is so happy he has a new magical life.
Transformed Pillow Monster is what the neighbors think,
they see Pillow Monster so happy to be alive,
Pillow Monster is so happy for he can't deny,
Pillow Monster gets so big, tears came to his eyes.
Pillow Monster gets bigger and bigger; but he makes it outside
Outside to see the sunshine, he is no longer inside.
Then it rains and makes a lot of mud,
Pillow Monster doesn't mind if he gets stuck.
Stuck in the mud goes Pillow Monster Toe,
then his friend Hamburger Helper Hand—
helps him because he understands
how excited Pillow Monster is to get so Big…
big like the biggest Pillow Monster that had magically grown,
Magical like Pinocchio's very Long nose.
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pillow Monster Magically Transforms
Pillow Monster magically gets so big
he has magical powers, he never worked out in the gym.
Pillow Monster now has sweet memories,
memories of the Krendoll characters so sweet.
Pillow Monster can't figure out why he feels so happy inside,
he now has a colorful outfit with a bigger tie,
Pillow Monster is so happy he has a new magical life.
Transformed Pillow Monster is what the neighbors think,
they see Pillow Monster so happy to be alive,
Pillow Monster is so happy for he can't deny,
Pillow Monster gets so big, tears came to his eyes.
Pillow Monster gets bigger and bigger; but he makes it outside
Outside to see the sunshine, he is no longer inside.
Then it rains and makes a lot of mud,
Pillow Monster doesn't mind if he gets stuck.
Stuck in the mud goes Pillow Monster Toe,
then his friend Hamburger Helper Hand—
helps him because he understands…
how excited Pillow Monster is to get so Big…
big like the biggest Pillow Monster that had magically grown,
Magical like Pinocchio's very Long nose.
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pillow
Your words
fell softly
On my pillow.
I hear them.
Like a bell
Far out to sea.
Nobody
Can console a weeping willow.
Or a caged bird
Yearning to be free.
Your tears
Fell softly
On my pillow.
I feel them.
Like summer rain
Upon my tongue.
As God
Spins cotton candy clouds
That billow.
I look for morning star
Where dreams once clung.
On my pillow
I can still smell your hair.
And your perfume
Like sweet flowers
Everywhere.
I can touch you
As my soul
Can feel a tune.
Love in the shadows
Still silhouetted
By the moon.
On my pillow
I see stardust
Glint of jade.
Sweet remnants
Of the promises we made.
When the magic flew,
Moonbeams
Were left behind.
On my pillow
Bathed in blue.
You kiss my mind.
poem by Kevin East
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Long hair dogs
Summer time is terrible
for dogs with long hair,
it makes them, very unbearable
they get to the point, they don't even care
Dogs with long hair
suffer more and long
they sometimes get cross as a bear,
and they can't wait, for fall to come on
Their so quite and still,
so hard is it,
for them to go up a hill
when bath time comes, they don't mind a bit
At The Middle Part
..and then she faces me
this time exposing every part of her
a tall. lean white body with long black hair
cascading like a waterfall
of silence
she walks towards me
as i lay my head on the pillow
as i signal her to come
and share with me
love and sorrow
and the passion of our presence
she takes a slow movement
her hands touching my hair
her lips getting near
my face
and then we close our eyes
and enter into another world
where we are one
so close
airtight.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Afraid To Sleep
We slept in this room together but now youre gone
And its so quiet I turn the tv on
We lived in this room together we painted the walls
Now time doesnt stand still
It crawls
And Im afraid to sleep
Cuz if I do I dream of you
And dreams are always deep
On the pillow where I weep
I never realized how much I was in love with you
Until you started sleeping with someone new
Last night I dreamed again and you were there
You kissed my face you touched my hair
And Im afraid to sleep
Cuz if I do I dream of you
And dreams are always deep
On the pillow where I weep
Lying alone in the darkness with a memory in my head
Theres a big hole where my heart is
And a lonely feeling rollin round my bed
And Im afraid to sleep
Cuz if I do I dream of you
Im afraid to sleep
Cuz if I do I dream of you
And dreams are always deep
On the pillow where I weep
On the pillow where I weep
Im afraid to sleep.
song performed by by Dido
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stanzas To A Hindoo Air
Oh! my lonely--lonely--lonely--Pillow!
Where is my lover? where is my lover?
Is it his bark which my dreary dreams discover?
Far--far away! and alone along the billow?
Oh! my lonely-lonely-lonely-Pillow!
Why must my head ache where his gentle brow lay?
How the long night flags lovelessly and slowly,
And my head droops over thee like the willow!
Oh! thou, my sad and solitary Pillow!
Send me kind dreams to keep my heart from breaking,
In return for the tears I shed upon thee waking;
Let me not die till he comes back o'er the billow.
Then if thou wilt--no more my lonely Pillow,
In one embrace let these arms again enfold him,
And then expire of the joy-but to behold him!
Oh! my lone bosom!-oh! my lonely Pillow!
Bed Of Flowers
i found myself in a bed of flowers
looking up towards the sky
i laid there inhaling the sweet
fragrances of the flowers
and thinking of you and i.
the fragrances tickled my nostrils
and the memories flooded back in
thinking of all the joys we had
and all the things we did.
every feature of your face
the color of your eyes
the way your hair fell upon your shoulders
and how you could hypnotize.
i felt your arms around me
the tenderness of your embrace
your soft tender kisses
kissing my neck
kissing my face
taking me back to another world,
another time
another place.
you had captured my heart with all that i saw
and in my heart live there
now and forever more.
i smell the fragrance of your body
and it fills me with delight.
i feel your presence near me
although you're not in sight.
all my five senses are reaching out to you
but you're not there
and i don't know what to do.
so i'll lie in this bed of flowers
until you finally arrive
and in my heart i know
that our hearts will both entwine.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The monk with long pretty hair
I love this life,
Sworn to serve the poor,
My body honed to perfection,
With the life style,
The material skill,
The difficult chores,
And the blessing our the lord Buddha,
I will always honor him,
For he gave me the greatest gift of all,
My long pretty hair.
The others start to object,
Claiming my head needs shaving,
There just jealous,
I wear the orange robe,
What more do they want?
I’m always on time,
The best in my class,
I bet that’s why they hate me,
Because who could hate,
My long pretty hair.
Everyday I realise,
My hair is all I care for,
I made my excuses,
I need to be clean,
Because cleanliness is holiness,
Suddenly there’s not enough hours in the day,
I cut the training,
And fall behind on my chores,
To stare at perfection in the mirror,
My long pretty hair.
The Masters are angry at me preaching,
That my hair sets me apart,
As indeed it does,
I see the jealousy in every eye,
They hate me because I'm perfect,
Why should I shave my head?
Am I not the universe’s chosen?
Above all the others,
So what if I’m the better with,
My long pretty hair.
I’m banished from my home,
But that’s ok,
They left me a mirror,
Which I stare into all day,
I found my true love,
Better than my old life,
Helping and healing and fighting,
I rebel against my order,
Despite all I lose I still have,
My long pretty hair.
On the execution block I stand,
In all my glory,
They took my mirror away,
And dared to touch my hair,
Who can blame me for hurting them?
They deserved it,
And now I stand,
Proud and tall,
With my hair flowing free,
Caressed by the breeze
My long pretty hair.
And I now hang by the gate,
By my long pretty hair,
Final glory for everyone to see.
My long pretty hair.
poem by David Whittingham
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wrinkles and Grey Hair (Children)
Mommy's getting wrinkles.
Daddy has grey hair.
It wasn't very long ago
when those things weren't there.
Wish I could smooth the wrinkles out
and darken Daddy's hair
to stop the changes going on.
It makes me feel so scared.
Grampa, does it mean they'll die?
They have wrinkles and grey hair!
I never used to worry
before those things were there.
Grampa said to look at him.
There were lots of wrinkles there,
and on his head, a snowstorm
was the color of his hair.
'Wrinkles only come to point
where smiles were, here and there.
It's your mommy's turn to get some
for the happy times you've shared.'
His white, and Daddy's grey hair
well, it was there to show
who had lived the longest time
so everyone could know!
Grampa said it's part of life.
We love, we learn, we live.
We earn grey hair and wrinkles,
they're prizes only God can give.
One month Anniversary (1)
In months time
Time flew by
So fast, so quick
So many memories already
From first kiss in the Drive way
To First date at TGI's
To my first photo booth pictures
To Caving at Devils den
To already having many developed pictures
To being with a great person for one months time
Memories fly, but time is cherished
Having these memories with you means everything
Knowing you're there to tell me Morning
Knowing you're there to tell me Night
Everything we do makes me smile
And makes me realize everythings worthwhile
So here's to a month
A month so great
A month with no debate
A month with no regrets
I'm hope you've enjoyed it as much as i have
I hope for another month and more
Happy One month anniversary
poem by Tanner Gallman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Good Catch
long hair spread on a blue pillow
her fishing-net full, a good catch
sweet dreams and a man's sunken head
deep in her blue fairy pillow...
poem by ONElia AVElar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Braiding
1.
We two sit on our bed, you
between my legs, your back to me, your head
slightly bowed, that I may brush and braid
your hair. My father
did this for my mother,
just as I do for you. One hand
holds the hem of you hair, the other
works the brush. Both hands climb
as the strokes grow
longer, until I use not only my wrists,
but my arms, then my shoulders, my whole body
rocking in a rower's rhythm, a lover's
even time, as the tangles are undone,
and brush and bare hand run the thick,
fluent length of your hair, whose wintry scent
comes, a faint, human musk.
2.
Last night the room was so cold
I dreamed we were in Pittsburgh again, where winter
persisted and we fell asleep in the last seat
of the 71 Negley, dark mornings going to work.
How I wish we didn't hate those years
while we lived them.
Those were days of books,
days of silences stacked high
as the ceiling of that great, dim hall
where we studied. I remember
the thick, oak tabletops, how cool
they felt against my face
when I lay my head down and slept.
3.
How long your hair has grown.
Gradually, December.
4.
There will come a day
one of us will have to imagine this: you,
after your bath, crosslegged on the bed, sleepy, patient,
while I braid your hair.
5.
Here, what's made, these braids, unmakes
itself in time, and must be made
again, within and against
time. So I braid
your hair each day.
My fingers gather, measure hair,
hook, pull and twist hair and hair.
Deft, quick, they plait,
weave, articulate lock and lock, to make
and make these braids, which point
the direction of my going, of all our continuous going.
And though what's made does not abide,
my making is steadfast, and, besides, there is a making
of which this making-in-time is just a part,
a making which abides
beyond the hands which rise in the combing,
the hands which fall in the braiding,
trailing hair in each stage of its unbraiding.
6.
Love, how the hours accumulate. Uncountable.
The trees grow tall, some people walk away
and diminish forever.
The damp pewter days slip around without warning
and we cross over one year and one year.
poem by Li-Young Lee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cryin Through The Night
Yes I am cryin
I got the blues and I dont know why
Yes I am cryin
I got the blues and Im so dissatisfied
cause Ive been cryin through the night
Tears on my pillow
And I have been cryin through the night
Weeping like a weeping pillow
From cryin through the night
Hear me cryin through the night
I am lonely, downhearted and sad
cause Ive lost the best woman that I ever had
To a fiend of mine
Just cant figure out how it could be
That somebody like him could take her away from me
And its on my mind
Nearly all the time
Yes I am cryin
I got the blues and I dont know why
Yes I am cryin
I got the blues and Im so dissatisfied
cause Ive been cryin through the night
Tears on my pillow
And I have been cryin through the night
Weeping like a weeping pillow
From cryin through the night
Hear me cryin through the night
Now I know just how best friends can be
cause he made sure you knew your best was with me
And its on my mind
Heres a lesson much greater than wealth
Keep your business to you, yourself and no one else
And your smiling eyes
Wont be cryin like mine
Yes I am cryin
I got the blues and I dont know why
Yes I am cryin
I got the blues and Im so dissatisfied
cause Ive been cryin through the night
Tears on my pillow
And I have been cryin through the night
Weeping like a weeping pillow
From cryin through the night
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Im weeping like a weeping pillow
From cryin through the night
Oh, oh, yeah
Hear me cryin, cryin, Im cryin, cryin
Im cryin baby, cryin baby, yeah
Even a fool can tell
That so many tears sho enough done fell
And pretty soon before you know
Ill have enough tears to fill a water well
Hear me cryin through the night
Oh yeah, cryin through the night
And its on my mind
Nearly all the time
Yes I am cryin
I got the blues and I dont know why
Yes I am cryin
I got the blues and Im so dissatisfied
cause Ive been cryin through the night
Tears on my pillow
And I have been cryin through the night
Weeping like a weeping pillow
From cryin through the night
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Im weeping like a weeping pillow
Oh, oh, cryin tears, cryin tears
Through the night
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Waiting For You (Sestina)
The tangled wood reminds me of your hair -
dark like the night and falling in whispers.
Kneeling underneath the sheltering pines,
I sip silence and stroke the memories.
You have long been gone, and I miss your hands,
slipping through the long sleeves of languid love.
Time is a leaf on the branch of our love,
curled in the corners of your chestnut hair
and falling like sand through hourglass hands.
Wind strokes my back and quietly whispers.
Stars float down a dark sky of memories,
their bright pulse like beacons above the pines.
Thus hangs the moon, suspended among pines,
promising brighter days showered with love;
but for now, I live in the memories.
I braid a blue blossom into my hair,
its fragrance wafting like weary whispers,
spider-spun silk in the palm of my hands.
I remember how you captured my hands,
held them within the shadow of the pines,
and kissed them soft as butterfly whispers.
It was then that I knew I was in love,
when you gently stroked the length of my hair,
now curled within the moonlight memories.
Moonlight makes magic of the memories,
within the palms of her shimmering hands,
and she sprinkles starlight throughout my hair.
Initials are carved in one of the pines
within a whimsical heart made with love
and sanctified with undying whispers.
The past unfolds in wandering whispers,
ushered through the gate of my memories.
I write a letter of undying love,
hold it like seeds in the palm of my hands,
and plant it with a kiss beneath the pines
as the wind looses a wisp of my hair.
The pale wings of my love move like whispers,
tangling in your hair like memories
captured within your hands beneath the pines.
poem by Linda Marie Van Tassell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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