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
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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
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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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)
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
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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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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
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Bad Hair Days (A Fun Poem)
Everyday is always a bad hair day for me
Mine is very curly, they told me it's kinky
I have a hard time combing my hair, you see
Have to visit my hairdresser to fix it for me
It was very shiny, as straight as can be
It was always like these since I was a little lady
Now, I am used to see this everyday
Ummm, I don't see what happened to me
Getting up early in the morning is not that easy
I have to have a ribbon to hold it, the neighbors might see
Never mind If they laugh at me and call me crazy
I have a God who loves me and take care of me.
Hey! I am elated this way, God created me like that,
And no bad hair day will ever make me give it back,
Yes! Truly blessed to have hair as pleasing as can be,
Think what you want, I absolutely adore it. He he he!
Hmmm..not a bad hair day at all...I love it..! ! ! He he he
poem by Meggie Gultiano
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Terrapin
==============================
Smashing Pumpkins - Terrapin
==============================
I really love you, and I mean you,
The star above you, crystal blue
Well, oh baby, my hair's on end about you
I wouldn't see you, and I love to,
I fly above you, yes I do,
Well, oh baby my hair's on end about you
Floating, bumping, noses dodge a tooth
The fins a luminous
Fangs all 'round the clown is dark
Below the boulders hiding
All the sunlight's good for us
Cause we're the fishes, and all we do
The move about is all we do
Well oh baby my hair's on end about you
I really love you, and I mean you,
The star above you, crystal blue
Well, oh baby, my hair's on end about you
Well, oh baby, my hair's on end about you
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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Bread Hair
Im a wigged-out daddy with bread on top
I dig an easy-bake granny with a whiskey mop
If you love me, you neednt the whole wheat crop
cause they had a useless battle andll never stop
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Youre drivin all my hope away
Im a pumpernickel-do for you, dough you do
Use a yarmulka of hallah bread if youre a jew
I belong to cayope*, I be the wheat for you
Yeast and flour, bake an hour, its annoying shampoo
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Drivin all my hope away
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Bread hair, oh boy, oh boy
Youre drivin all my hope away
Thats a gone rug, buddy
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For Anne Gregory
"Never shall a young man,
Thrown into despair
By those great honey-coloured
Ramparts at your ear,
Love you for yourself alone
And not your yellow hair."
"But I can get a hair-dye
And set such colour there,
Brown, or black, or carrot,
That young men in despair
May love me for myself alone
And not my yellow hair."
"I heard an old religious man
But yesternight declare
That he had found a text to prove
That only God, my dear,
Could love you for yourself alone
And not your yellow hair."
poem by William Butler Yeats (1933)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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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
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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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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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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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Rope hair woman
Rope hair woman
Where you’re off to tonight
Rope hair woman
You’re lookin’ out of sight
O rope hair woman
I love with all my might
Rope hair woman if you could if you can
Let me be your dread lock man.
Dread lock man
Can you understand
That a rope hair woman
Does all that she can
To move you to that sexual point
Better then your hand
O rope hair woman
Here is my plain
Rope hair woman I will give
Up my womanly man
O rope hair woman
The world can understand
That you want a dread lock man.
poem by David E. Patton
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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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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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