Best Baldy Poems
Come and visit me in a dream,
And tell me how you are,
Are you floating on a cloud?
Have you found the brightest star?
I know you're with us somewhere,
Even though you can't be seen,
Painting the bluest sky,
Or among the grass so green.
As I'm wandering through the park,
Looking up at the trees,
Daydreaming of the joy you brought,
Will you visit me please?
Just send me a little sign,
White feathers on the breeze,
To let me know you're happy, free
And put my mind at ease.
Or ask a passing stranger,
With twinkling brown eyes,
A cheeky smile, and baldy head,
To nod as he passes by.
Or maybe play a special song,
Loud, on my radio,
That could have been written just for you,
About all the love we've known.
Come visit me in a dream,
And tell me how you are,
I know you're there, a floating cloud,
And one of the brightest stars.
George and his stupid acorns.
He has no sense of boundaries--
danged things falling on my head.
And Celia. She thinks she's all that
with her new clothes: red, yellow,
green, orange. How passe!
And then Baldy, the coward,
so afraid of winter he went stark
naked even before fall started.
And here come those helicopters again,
courtesy of Myrtle the maple.
They get into absolutely everything.
Sometimes I think I'm the only one with
any sense around here. You won't
see MY leaves going all psychedelic
or turning brown or flying helicopters.
Me? I stay green all year round, and
I don't go dropping leaves and nuts
all over the place. Sure, I have cones,
but they're actually more like accessories.
You can use them in arts and crafts
and as Christmas ornaments,
Speaking of Christmas, what month is it?
November you say? Late November?
Wait! What are you going to do with that ax?
Hey, let's talk about this...
8/24/15
Jolly Old St. Nicholas, grey hair, baldy man
A jingle with a twisted cane, see me if you can
Silver long haired beard, red nose, rosy golden cheeks
Giddy-up old St. Nicholas, won't you hurry please!
When the clock strikes twelve pm, on a darkest night
Driving the lonely streets, please turn on your lights.
My big house is decorated, wreaths and ornaments too,
May your blessings come your way, all your dreams come true
Bronson wants a pair of shoes, Brandy wants a shirt
As for me, you know what I want, hope he's not a flirt.
Jolly old St. Nicholas, send me a nice young man
I don't want to be no fool, just to hold someone's hand.
There was a woman thought all bawdy the limericks but all know she is gaudy She really lost her wigs when she did read this funny thing is now they call her baldy
Calendar cats are the Pussy élite.
Silky or spiky, or butch, or effete,
Calendar cats are a privilege to meet …
They’re, oh! SO beautiful!
My Bubble’s a bit smelly, and he doesn’t seem to care,
And his poor old baldy belly has got ‘flying-away’ hair.
He quacks and he sneezes, and he dribbles ev’rywhere –
It’s not pretty at all …
Calendar cats have immaculate hair.
It’s sleek and it’s clean – not a flea anywhere;
But they’re paper, not real-life – it’s true, and you can’t
Hear them PURRing at all …
Bubble’s greedy and he’s lazy, and his fur gets up my nose.
He gets it in my dinner and he gets it on my clothes.
He isn’t too hygienic at all, BUT – he PURRs
Like a pneumatic drill …
My Bubble does nothing, and he does it all day.
When he’s not on my lap, then he’s still in my way.
He sleeps in my garden, and dreams of the old
Days, - when HE had it all …
But calendar cats only hang on the wall,
And when you need a cuddle they’re no use at all …
So I’ll cuddle my Bubble ...
Yes, I’ll cuddle my Bubble …
And I won’t want a calendar pussy at all …
No, I won’t want a calendar cat
At all!
This is a waltz (3/4) rhythm, and verses 2 and 4 are in double time (6/8)
Sadly, Bubble is no longer with us, but he did live to nearly 20!
My love has got no eyelids
It sees but only you
No ears but so endearing...
A walk within a shoe.
It shines just like a baldy
And smells of morning dew.
It never shall dim mouldy
I blinking do heart you.
As always growing fonder
Your stubble now a tash.
Without your fondue icing
A gravel in a rash.
MOVIE NOTEBOOK
Recent films of note include
FISTFUL OF COMMANDMENTS
With Heston and Eastwood
THE MAGNIFICENT DWARFS AND SNOW WHITE
With Eli Wallach as Grumpy, and
Yul Brynner as Baldy, a kind of white knight
And the British biblical re-make
BIG BEN HUR
That one really caused me to double-take
Her partisan skin melted
to a grey pale paste
Debauched in glory
and Moaning Lisa when she gave up the ghost
for skin weaved
under the light of a Venus beam
mounted the demon hill and lay a backhand on my throat
The universal untold and unfoldeth
by chance
we are a million miles
into the dance
A hungry mongrel child
- Atlas’ apprentice
Dancing Moaning Lisa in silver gown
rolls herself and nowhere to lay my baldy head
She reigns underneath the sycamore
for a speck of dust in her eye lies
A young child is born innocent and sweet
A life that lies ahead many people to meet
Without a hair on his head
They bet on the colour as he lay in his bed.
Months as a baldy with no hair to be seen
Take a pick, any colour it could've been
Time passes slowly and hair begins to grow
You'd never have believed the colour starting to show!
To everyones amazement it turned bright red
Throughout the parish this news did spread
With every concerned look in the mirror
Each strand growing longer and quicker
The arduous trek to school was made
Each agonising day the ginger was slayed
Picked on, poked and universally hated
He felt like a lump of cheddar being grated.
Oh to be like his sis who had dark hair
Those carrot jokes they would no longer share
With confidence shot he's meek, a mute
Where are those girls who think I'm a beaut?
He hit his teens and crazier the remarks got
"Why have you got brown eyebrows?", one shot.
They put you under a microscope, so curious
As each day passed he grew more and more furious.
He contemplated going to the chemist for hair dye
It was something he thought he ought to try.
Alarmingly the voice in his head said otherwise
"As a ginger never live in disguise".
It's best to stay natural and forget the past
It's best to stay ginger at long last
Even though his hair is like a fire
He can say it's natural he ain't no liar.
He doesn't believe he lives in a world of pain
Those cheap shots were minor stains
Thankfully now they're all removed
To live as a ginger never to be bruised.
Habemus Papam
A long, steep road- life time for some- and
tired I paused outside a shop selling wigs
I didn´t go in, but its owner came out, handed
for a beautiful hairpiece for frosty weather.
I looked ten years younger, ambled with firm
steps to the town´s plaza and seen by adoring
women, wore sunglasses to hide my celebrity.
A gust of wind my wig flew off, landed on top
of a street lamp its light came on even though
it was in the middle of the day and austerity.
A chorus of unseen singers sang: Baldy, baldy,
baldy, my vanity vanished as morning mist.
“Why are you bald?” six year old girl asked.
“I was a seal suffering from hydrophobia and
could not jump up in the air and look cute.”
In a Chinese shop I bought a red hat, citizens
gaped at me with awe, and whispered is he our
new papa?
was conducted on a global scale,
taking billions of years in local space time.
Mere moments in the time of the Initiators.
Their quantum computers able to crunch numbers beyond human comprehension.
The simulation experiment would be run in countless simultaneous variations,
the results being keenly noted and analyzed.
The variables in each, some great, some small, would lead
to wildly different conclusions most of which ended baldy.
Some ended, however, with its inhabitants realizing their part in the experiment, enabling them to assist with conclusions.
These outcomes were looked on favorably by the Initiators as it aided to their findings. I wonder which variable we exist in?
A bald eagle sports white hair and a craggy face
He’s admired and feared for his power and grace
Though when I see him next to a brown-hair
~ ‘baldy’ has even more fluff up there
The Ginger Whinger’s in despair,
Life’s not so easy being the spare,
Seeing succession prospects recede
As baldy brother continues to breed,
And the world seems so absurd
To go and take him at his word
When he says he wants a private life
To live in peace with his kids and wife
Then gets them all in a fix
By telling all there onNetflix,
Wonders why he gets such a public rocket
As he stuffs the cash into his back pocket.
I wonder how much longer it will be
Til they tire of him the land of the free.
Will he expect the family to be forgiving
When he has to work for his own living
He had sympathy when he lost his mam
Then he tossed his toys out of the pram.
The world of food banks doesn’t really care
For the churlish antics of a redundant spare.
It would really be a sad and pathetic thing
To be as bitter as his Uncle the late ex king
Or for his only value on this Earth
To be by the accident of his birth.
A deer hunter’s daughter
#1
She illuminates the clock with her laughter,
loves her instagram her tic toc and her saunter,
she goes nowhere near disaster,
she’s got no ear for fear,
no hard summer rain,
no pain when she goes in disaster mode,
she is poetry and prose,
she loves her repose,
and thereafter,
she’s got innocent innocent eyes my Bess,
she’s my daughter.
We go strolling together,
we are bonded,
we have strong hands that feed us,
She forgives me,
I believe her.
Rainy days come, we sit on the sofa,
we amuse ourselves with table tennis,
we take our anoraks and run,
her wild loose hair moist,
to the God’s I would offer,
a sacred deer because we suffer,
all I have is her and she has me,
and me is all she knows,
my big brown eyes,
as we rise together and fall,
to me she’s my all.
We go strolling together,
we are bonded,
we have warm hearts inside us,
She forgives me,
I deliver,
I believe her. ??
#2
She goes strolling through the park,
it’s late in the afternoon,
there’s crescent silver moon,
her heart is on her eyes,
pale blue eyes of summer,
how I ‘d wish I ‘d have her.
She wears a wide brimmed hat,
she has flowers in her hands,
fingers that are magic wands,
a beautiful scarf on her neck,
she holds a candlestick,
her name is Bess and she is blessed,
how I ‘d wish I ‘d posses her.
The deer run scared,
This I can’t bear,
Their eyes are pools of sorrow,
their fear is in her ears,
they are ringing,
why dad?
why?
I can have a perfect 10 in anything I do,
I can paint the sky blue
and they ‘ll tell me bravo sweet princess,
it is my essence,
but when their blood spills,
I can’t come to their defence.
I killed a baldy,
now she will scold me.
#3
Don’t scold me,
I killed life,
now hold me,
it’s sunrise time in the forest,
deer drink their mother’s
milk,
I am honest,
it’s a sight to behold.
My pain is manifold,
and many a time
he comes to feel alive
and alive he can be
next to me
for I am his oblivion,
his warm garment
his heart of gold.
I shoot an arrow,
I aim and fire,
I live with little
and they don’t mind,
they are many,
and I have plenty
of time to kill,
and I don’t do it for the thrill,
it makes sense,
and the benefits are immense,
she plays the music I wan’t to hear,
she is my deer.
Paralegically tripped you up
Did you brush your teeth
Your look weird your eyes are far too close to your mouth
now im 70 i dont think i love you
but i should have realised when i was 23
knows how we got together its a mystery
touch of your hand makes me jittery
One day i will fall
hoping ever day love
Demented every day tell you who I am
So lonely now
Shake my head heart still beating
Can't think you are so loud
Could have found love but well here we are
You baldy Gonk and your stupid face
Nocrowds here give me back my name
You stunk on the piano the same way as your mum
How could i love you the same
'Lost money your house sold never old you've always been
God your smile's goes on forever sickening mind hopefully a memory
I'm thinking about normal love not your easy lays
Once had a murder plan
Couldn't find knives but the steaks
Rolling knife in hand
be out by now
So lonely now
Take your loathing arms from me
Glasgow kissed me seen a thousand stars
Shake my head heart still beating
Can't think you are so loud
Dare i can't hear a beating heart
You were so loud
Could have found love but well here we are
love can finally start