I spoke to the sea,
a calm breath
though a gale raged
inside of me – both my
sails shredded, I begged
for mercy:
“Thou art the greatest world current,
what brag would be a wretched notch
like me!? Devourer of coasts!
Reshaper of vast continents! Bane
of man’s mightiest fleets! Countless
formidable have foolishly challenged thee, and now
lie silent in your crushing depths...were I
added to such esteem numbers,
a bald-headed, gray bearded, toothless
old dote, it would be a disgrace~
better toss me high into the
air, toward that island over there, for
unlike you, Great Wet Majesty, crocodiles
and lizards have no pride; then there
not be shame of yours to hide –
promise, never will I return….”
and this, dear children, is why
grandpa cannot take you fishing --
Ariana nodded, tremolo fingers,
and they ran across the killing field,
watching the steel-toed kite ascend—
a fleeting instant of triumph in the vacuum.
Josh scoffed as it dipped,
both caught in the pull of the abyss,
falling but not landing.
They took turns gliding it,
Bald headed eagles filling the air,
until it sank into the seabeds,
the depth charge igniting underground.
“Let’s see who can jump the highest,”
Ariana said, voice light but steady,
aiming to beat his rebound.
Josh clapped, mocking her.
“Ready to launch?” he asked,
handing her the Molotov cocktail.
there once was a fella named Joe
whose hairstyle's a wonky Afro
to the barber Joe went
Who repaired his head dent
Joe returned bald headed like Moe!
Copper elf found a coin
Matching the pot in his mother’s kitchen
All shiny against his limb and loin
He said “I think I’m getting rich’n”.
It is like a pretty penny his child said.
Yes, and it was such a marvelous surprise!
It has a shine that reminds me of your daddy’s head
A bald-headed elf who would have rolled his eyes
"I wandered lonely as a cloud"--- By William Wordsworth
I wandered lonely as a tramp,
Far, far away from all human habitats
Away from all prying eyes
Following the bent
Of my vagrant inclination;
Into Nature’s sylvan pockets
To places studded with trees
To the tranquil bosom of the woods
Onto the heights of bald headed hills
Where shrubs struggle to strike root
From the cleft of rocks and ledges
Where in hollows, wild bushes grow in clusters
To watch the shreds of hovering mist
To gaze upon piles of sailing clouds
To shout loud and whistle long
And to listen to the hills
Mimicking my own sound
There I will hop and jump,
Like a sprightly forest fawn,
As I don’t fear
Either the silently gliding streams,
Or the clump of swaying trees,
The host of wild flowers,
Or the monstrous mossy rocks,
Either the birds or the beasts
Never will they watch my cranky pranks
And call me a loony
As here my own men might do!
September 19, 2022
Written for the contest, I Wandered Lonely As _ Challenge
Sponsor, Natasha L Scragg
Judged on 9/24/2022
Bigotry is ignorance
Bigotry is not meeting but maybe one person in a certain category.
Bigotry is categorizing all people into the same box
based on crazy things
like religion, the color of their skin,
even their hair color if you truly get down to it.
How many times have you heard:
all blondes are dumb? All old people are senile? All bald headed men are virile?
Bigotry is no here near pure and simple
It is also not totally absolute or self-assured.
I was once told by Matt who was a racist against Polish people,
“My sister could never marry a Pole.”
I asked “What if the Polish man was super nice?”
It would not matter.
“What if the Polish man was kind to the entire family?”
I would not care.
I got serious now.
This is America after all.
I asked him, “What if the Polish man was rich?”
Here is where things changed.
“How rich?”
“Rich enough to buy you a new car so you would change your mind about him.”
“That would be different, he said,” no bigot at all, when it came to money.
There was a lazy, bald-headed man
Felt sunny day like a frying- pan
Put him up to his nest
Put his work off to rest
Got bump on head due to fallen fan.
Contest: Summer Laziness
Sponsored by: Mohan Chutani
Date: 14-06-2020
Alas, due to the insidious coronavirus situation,
The guv ordered barber shops closed for the duration!
Now, I suppose that is of no concern to a bald-headed bloke,
But since I still have a few strands on my skull, it ain't no joke!
What am I to do sans my barber deftly wielding his shears,
Taking some off the top and trimming about my ears?
If the virus prevails many more months, I'm afraid,
That I must stifle my scruffy mane with a luxuriant braid!
Attraction
As race is concerned
Beauty lies within
Buried beneath the surface
The stick figure
The petite
The full figured
And well rounded
The dreaded
The bald headed
Of body
Of mind
Of soul
Of pride
Nothing changes my perception
I am my own version of beauty of self
Attraction , repulsion
I’ll tell me about myself
And show me who I am
Rise up
And speak for myself
I wear a crown
And that’s enough
My own validation is sufficient
A journey of exploration
From pressed
To permed
To weaved
To coarse kinks
Love and guidance
Confidence and comfort -ability
Take possession and accountability
Life reimagined
I stepped outside and felt free
A dove flew over me
Walk with my head held high
The sun soothes my skin
Embracing my melanin
My hair deserves to command the room
Marckincia Jean
Free verse
09/04/19
I'm Bald headed-have piss yellow teeth
don't use balm or whiteners to appear young again
every scar is a jagged path to a novella called living.
Cursed and blessed with a good heart
wild horse temperament that's bucked most riders off.
Loyal to a fault for the few who've stuck it out
through all the ups and downs.
I could blow out of here at any time
but for now everything's just fine..
I've crash landed on a cay of calm..
Quite proud that I've made it this far
more than half way to a hell, oft mistaken as a star
At times slipping into the murky waters of mundane,
just another battered face rooting through a discount bin
Always on the fringe of a spinning tassel of content
Everywhere there's mounds of glitter glued to plastic bags.
covering up the dry rot-I've no interest in any of that
Shocking I can pull it together at a funeral
but not when I'm putting down a pet-
I want to be a whirling dust devil
outside this hollow town
not inside the plastic masks
of all the dead hearted clowns.
Beard and hair for man
What man will do for woman?
If no remain hair!
-October 23, 2018 Chattogram
///
In making love woman cares man's hair in youth and cares beard in old age cause of bald headed but what will be about woman!
Brown
Black
White
Red
That's the skin I am in
My skin that I am in.
Look real close
What do you see?
A human being in the skin I am in
In the skin I am in.
My hair may have braids,
Corn rolls, picked out , picked over
Nappy
Straight
Butt bald headed,
That's the skin that I am in.
Northern
Southern
Eastern
Western
No matter where I am from
That's the skin that I am in.
Take a closer look at me
And tell me what do you see?
A human being in the skin
that I am in
That skin I am in.
A bald-headed man from Jamaica
Attempted to scale a sky-scraper
From his hospital bed
He was heard to have said
‘I was seeking a hair-raising caper!
Bite Size Poem No.42 Poetry Contest
Sponsor :Line Gautier
PUT YOUR FOOTLE OUT YOUR MOUTH
Here's Fred Froogle
Bald headed
Wears eyeglasses
He used to wear boots
Feet itch so
Soaks feet in toilet bowl
Sprinkles talcum powder on his nose
Drinks hot Coca Cola
Sucks his heal
Spits out his foot before a meal
Foot kiss ashy nights
Walks on shredded broken glass
Swollen breath toe jam dress
Spitting toe nails
Choking on my heals
Can't walk foot caught
Put your foot out your mouth
3/2/18
Written Words by James Edward Lee ©2018
Deja what?
here with no view
into the underground
back to the zoo.
got a feeling that the glass
in this ceiling is cracked
and I'd rather break through it
than have to look at it.
Revisiting to solicit the facts
about tracks and tracts I once
pored over, but
now I'm under
ground.
In front of me
something that looks like a yeti
sat next to a bald headed gent
and I wonder if he ever meant to
go bald.
The postman
well he's always sat there
a comb over style in his
thinning hair
and the girl in the leathers
don't know whether she's a spy
but
she could be.
Mr horn-rimmed
skims through the news
more of the déjà what
who's
counting anyway,
it's still Monday and that's
all that matters.
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