|Best Poems About / On HAIR
Hair Brushing and Love Wanting
The combing of the hair
the hand holding the strands
brushing her hair
it was her hair
wants to feel more
wanting to feel full stop
to enter in
each inch of skin
and o gods of wherever
is this love?
and the hair held
letting run through
the breath held
the breathing paused
love o love o love
there is this
to be with
to have and kiss
and the brushing of hair
and eyes taking in
from each angle
and she is speaking
and Coco hears
listens but the words
are slippery as eels
and are gone
just out of reach
and the neck
and the skin
and that space
her eyes settle on
and that bath time
as one does
that drying of another
as one is paid to do
o love wants more
not twice or thrice
if such there is
for this young miss
to have and hold
and deeply kiss.
Read more poems from Terry Collett >>>
Bad Hair Day (Free Style)
Oh no when I woke up this morning I wasn't feeling well and
Then when I looked in front of my mirror I got so stressed
What did I look but that my whole hair was just standing
On ends and that it was in a whole mess, and I was depressed.
Why did this had to happen to me
I haven't done anything wrong anyway
But just went to sleep for a few hours and
Now I am just having a very bad hair day.
Oh please someone just hurry and help me
A little bit, because i dont really know what to do
My hair is in such a bad shape that not even all
Those fancy gel and mousse can help and I am in a stew.
My hair is standing all on edge, and is all dried up and have frizz
And every strand of hair is out of place, and is all tangled up there today,
That not even my comb can run through in there and most of its teeth
Just broke off and now I am about to cry because I'm having a bad hair day!
Dorian Petersen Potter
Read more poems from Dorian Petersen Potter >>>
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.
Read more poems from Sammy Edrisi >>>
And nose rings,
And belly rings too,
Purple checkered and
Colored jeans too.
Looks and more looks
Are everywhere you look.
Their on TV
And in real life.
They are in church
And on the street.
Were always concerned with our looks cuz they are all around.
To preppy and
What you look like describes your personality.
If you where tight jeans why must you be skater?
Of if you wear your hair black,
Why must you be punk or Goth?
It is all just in our heads,
You can wear tight jeans and be Goth,
Or black hair and be prep,
Why are looks so defining?
Because we make them so.
Why do people do this?
Hell if I know.
It is all just a mirage.
None of its real.
So why are looks such a big deal?
Why do we try and make believe,
If you look like that then you must be this?
There is no point to this strange behavior.
So lets stop this lookism and just get to someone despite how they look.
BlackXWhiteFeathers Raven Mendez
Read more poems from BlackXWhiteFeathers Raven Mendez >>>