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Best Hair Poems

Below are the all-time best Hair poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of hair poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Definition & Discussion of Hair Poems
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See also: Best Famous Poems



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Details | Hair Poem |

Wind

The wind rustles your hair as the sun brings joy .

It tells your secrets and they are well kept.

They go where it is needed turning gracefully.

Will you dance again?

 

What about your joy?

Its buried now and your hair is gone.

Birds dancing and your bare arms reach for me.

Saves the last dance.

 

I love your cold breath and the heat.

Your almost home.

But you will leave  as before.

Dance for me.


Details | Hair Poem |

A Lovers World And Dreamers Dream

Hope lives on a four leaf clover.
Greener pastures when yesterday's over.
My heart spins when her hair gets twirled.
And I start to shake in this lovers world.

I walked around the corner and stayed awhile.
That's where I was when I seen her smile.
I felt more in that moment than in my whole life.
Straight to my heart just like a knife.

I've made that turn a time or two.
But theres no turning round now that it's you.
The sun came up on the other side.
Took away any shadow where I can hide.

Destiny delivered a dream for two.
Everything has suddenly become pink and blue.
I can't help but wait for the bubble to pop.
Borrowed trouble in this dream balloon shop.

Hope lives on a four leaf clover. 
Greener pastures when yesterday's over.
My heart spins when her hair gets twirled.
And I start to shake in this lovers world.


Details | Hair Poem |

Self inflicted blues

This day I grow tired
and so incredibly weary.
My heart holds only dreams
of a Life unfullfilled
A Life not nurtured,
yet barely a glimmer
of the spirit that once was.

I do have memories of some things good 
-not all bad,
But the fear that I am alone
is Like a fingerprint on my Life.

Shadowing, waiting to pounce,
always there, unshakeable.

It's the mirrors that hold me accountable
to my actions.
Proof positive that where ever I go
there I am,
Naked, vulnerable, and yes
still alone.

As I try to allay this fear, 
one Lonely and painful pluck at a time,
It becomes crystal clear, that I alone
am damaging my soul to the very core
with each stroke of my hand.

I steal one Last Look in the mirror
and know that I alone
have self inflicted these blues
Leaves me to ponder one question:

Will I ever allow myself the strength and grace
it will surely take to heal my scarred soul?                        
                                                      
  



This poem was written in hopes of begining the healing process for my self. I 
have a disease called trichiotillamania. It is an obsessive and manic urge to pull 
one's own hair until baldness occurs. I'm a 48 year old woman, married(with kids 
& grand kids)and have been doing this since the age of 5. It coincided with the 
begining of my stepfather raping and torturing me which lasted until the age of 
thirteen. This disease has me trapped and is NEVER letting me go. There are 
two inflictions in regards to my hair pulling in this poem, one must know about 
my disease in order to understand this poem.


Details | Hair Poem |

Worst Love Poem Ever Written

I suck at dying poems
Chemo poems, Metastatic Cancer poems,
Hair falling out in the shower poems
 
And I told a half truth
When I told you I could write you one
In less than six months (It's been eight)
I apologize for being so late

 
I wanted your poem to be pink and graceful
Like those ribbons
I see all over the internet
Filled with cheesy generic rhymes
That read like a Hallmark audition

  But already my metaphors are melting
And my similes are getting soft
 I guarantee you the rhyme meter will be off

 When I went to Google
And the typed in the word 'happy'
Three billion links came up

Not a single inference to
Breast cancer, hair loss
No redirects to mastectomies
Yahoo wasn't any kinder

 
The only thing research could teach me
Is that a good day on chemo
Is when your stool doesn't come out tar Black
And has no blood in it

Or when your urine
Smells better on Wednesday
Than it did on Tuesday

Sleeping less than 12 hours
When 24 would be better

  
America has more poets
Than it does alcoholics
   And Pot smokers combined
And you chose me to be
Your Breast Cancer
Poet Laureate

Trusting me to write a poem
About the biggest battle in your life

So I refuse to finish this poem
Without something bright and hopeful
 
And don't think
I didn't notice your Facebook activity
Had decreased by 88%
In the last three months

 
And you aren't really
Coming to any more of my poetry shows
Ever again. Are you??
But we still have March, April
Don't we?

 
But even if you had one breast
Or no breast

Or if you had less hair than I do
I promise to look only in your eyes
And never ever even notice
Or even think about it

And never for a moment
Would I feel sorry for you

Yes I suck at lying too...

 
But I don't suck at loving you
Or at hoping you wake up tomorrow morning
 With no Cancer at all
And that The Eiffel Tower will be right outside
Your bedroom window...

And I would be right there with you
Holding your hand while we look down on Paris
And you can impress me with your French again

 
And if I ever make it
To the Pulitzer Poetry board
I might lose a thousand points
Just for this poem alone

And my hopes for the prize will be smitten
And some old person 
With white hair will say
That was the worst love poem ever written


Details | Hair Poem |

All about Dan

So you want to get to know me,ok well here goes It's already in my poetry,but I may have left something out who knows? For the last twenty years I've been wearing Nike shoes,hightops that are black They're alot easier to clean then white ones I must say,that is a definite fact My friends all seem to like me and I greet them all with a big smile I've met alot of them through a life of partying,but now thats been over for a while My favorite book is the bible,because whenever I read it I learn something new My favorite movie I couldn't really tell you,since I have seen oh quite a few My favorite song is from Tim Mcgraw,it's"Live Like You Were Dying" In a funny kind of way it refreshes my soul,and I usually end up crying Favorite singer I don't really have one,so I guess it would have to be myself Because I just love it when I sing all the words and don't need anyones help My hair is a dirty blond thats straight,short and very fine It doesn't have a single curl and I know it's all still mine My favorite shampoo is Pert it leaves my hair so silky smooth With the fine and thining hair that I have,it's the one I prefer to use My favorite food is pizza,but fresh baked bread is my favorite smell If I had a food I'd eat everyday that is the one that would put me through hell I have everything I need,with only a few things that I dislike The only thing I want or really need is the love of my loving wife
Dan Kearley:5-25-12 Contest:All About ____???


Details | Hair Poem |

Farm Girl

On a Sussex farm works a golden haired girl
Surrounded by guys as she makes their hearts twirl
But her love and soul are miles away
In a Highlanders heart, she hopes to meet one day.
 
Its nearly a year since they were first in touch
As she's grown to adore him oh so much
Her delight will be, is too invite him down
And show him round her lovely town.
 
Her joy and smiles, as she holds his hand
Her heart pounding as she feels a million grand
Stopping for cuddles as they share a kiss
With her Highlander she's in sheer bliss.
 
The countryside where this English Rose stays
Flowering crops grow and animals graze
Noisy tractors Harvesters reap
Under a blistering sun, the baaing of sheep.
 
In her yellow dress, flowing golden hair
She takes his hand, as they climb the stair
Above up here is where we keep the hay
Again she takes his hand and down they lay.
 
Facing each other they start to kiss
This English rose in her mind she wish
To share her body with her Highlander
To adjoin their bodies as their loving stirs.
 
As they undress each other on this summers day
Bare skin warms the golden hay
Passions flow as their hands explore
Loving scent from their loving pores
Joys and sighs, they feel their bodies mix
Emotions and feelings in adrenalin fix.
 
Warmed and content,consumed in each others arms
Two heavenly bodies sharing each others charms
Kissing and cuddling on the flattened hay
As they stand up and look where they just once lay.
 
Dishevelled clothes, hair astray 
This loving couples summers play
Standing embrace their bodies quiver
Holding hands they head to the river.
 
At the river bank they undress each other
Under a shaded green leafy cover
Her naked body and long golden hair
Makes him proud to be standing there.
 
As they enter the river 
They caress and wash each other
Under this shaded leafed cover
They kiss and embrace to share their love
Under the leafy tree, chirping birds all above.
 
Heading home hand in hand
This loving couple feeling two million grand
They head to bed, spooned and cosy
This Highlander and his English Rosie.


http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love.php


Details | Hair Poem |

Rarely Met A Better Man

We communicate without language,
Gestures,symbols,motions of a hand.
He understands my language. 
I struggle with his.
But somehow we make it work.
We've lived together 14 years now,
Never thought to make it legal. 
Our love could not be 
More committed with a license .
He likes his hair long,
I prefer him less tousled
Though he does look appealing
When the hair fall in his eyes.

To find a partner like him is rare,
Although he has wandered on brief occasions.
I close the door behind him, but never turn the lock.
He always manages to find his way home,
With  downtrodden posture and liquid eyes.
I allow him to share my bed again,
After he grovels at my feet.
My heart has grown  soft for him over time.
I overlook his laziness and graying hair.
Smitten by his warm body and childlike ways.
Oh Theo, life at times is so unfair.
Though only a dog, I've rarely met a better man.


Details | Hair Poem |

-Nose hair madness-

I think I saw one I move a little closer there’s another one nose hair can be disgusting Nikko should I pull them out?
*Nikko's body part of choice nose hair lol*


Details | Hair Poem |

The Wisdom of Wine and Gin

My hair has receded and my belly grown fat
There’s hair growing in my ears and I don’t like that
My joints ache all the day and I have troubles with peeing
I’m tired all the time and have glasses for seeing
Gravity has taken over putting life in a downward spin
No wonder I enjoy drinking a little wine and gin


Details | Hair Poem |

Romany Gypsy

With flashing eyes she did enthral
as to the beat of drums she danced
a wild flamingo with clacking castanets
her wide hooped skirt was all a-swirl

Golden earrings sparkling and flashing
heels looking impossibly high as she twirls
her eyes flashing enticing messages 
as the men flock to her a mocking laugh

Siren of the senses as well she knows
she taunts and teases as she grabs hold
only to push her admirer head over heels
leaving him stunned and dazed in the dirt

In a puff of smoke she vanishes from view
long rolls of drums call to her to come back
the men look in vain for her return
a soft voice enticingly calls from the shadows

Singing of long journeys to far away exotic places
of caravan wheels swishing and of horses gavotting
of smokey camp fires bristling with full cauldrons
no clue to what lies within just enticing smells

She tells of lovers she has known in distant past
entreating the men, who try their luck to no avail
she sits brushing her long raven black hair of curls
and the sparks fly giving her an ethereal appearance

The fires die low and still she has not yet chosen
it seems she is waiting for someone not now here
flashes of lightening fork across the sullen skies
and the skies open in deluges of rain and thunder

As her admirers scatter seeking shelter she laughs
spinning round and round hair flying out scattering
droplets that glisten and sparkle in pale light
at last she crumbles done to the sodden ground 

A mighty flash of lightening rends the sky in half
highlighting a jet black horse rearing up high
she runs forward laughing he is here, he has come
her gypsy king, he swings her up before him and turns

As the summer storm fades the last fork shows
the two lovers high-lit on the rolling hill
then gone, gone to their secret place of tryst
she leaves lingering memories in men's minds of what might have been


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