Best Blonde Poems
BLONDE – ABSENT MINDED OR FAIR?
CLIENT
Goodness, gracious me,
Come over here and see,
How did you dare,
You have no flair,
My hair now’s dark,
It should be fair,
You’ve cut too much,
Let go don’t clutch,
I asked for just a trim,
You said your name is Kim?
Kim, you’ve made a mess,
I must confess.
I wanted fair and long,
Hello –ding dong!,
Can’t you even hear,
My absent minded dear,
My color’s on,
But now you say that some,
Colors do not take,
Don’t tell me you’re a fake!
You offer me a cup of tea,
But all you brought was cold coffee,
And now it’s time to rinse,
But your phone rings, its Prince,
My colors on and burning,
I’m going bald,
And all because Prince called!
You check your watch, you’re sorry,
And tell me not to worry,
But my hair has almost gone,
When I walked in here it shone,
Now I have to buy a wig,
This my husband will not dig!
You even want me to pay,
For having been treated this way,
Oh goodness gracious me,
I step out for the world to see,
What you have done to me!
ANSWER FROM A DISGRUNTLED EMPLOYEE
Well, let me tell you Mrs. Tea,
I tried my best,
But you put me to the test,
I want it short, no keep it long,
I held my tongue in order to,
Be strong,
You want it dark and then
Quite fair,
How did I dare,
To take you on,
For I am not a con!
And if Prince decides to ring,
He’s the most important thing,
That has ever come my way,
In my dreary job of little pay,
I’m sure that I’ll be fired,
But am absolutely,
Sick and tired,
Of answering to every whim,
I’ve had a grim
Few weeks, so if you want to leave,
I do not care and will not grieve,
In fact I’ll say so long,
My dear,
Don’t ever take a step,
Near here.
EAVESDROPPER
Ladies please shut up,
We have heard quite enough,
Of this awkward conversation,
Goodness what a situation,
I have to however say,
That after today,
Kim, I will never dare,
To let you do my hair,
For you are both unfair.
And as for you Mrs. Tea,
Even if a got a hairdo free,
I would never again come near,
If either of you are still here!
Even Marilyn Monroe had work done
She is beauty with or without blonde
Hairs and cares of movie star heights
Perhaps her pain made her bigger than life
She is a thick beauty we admire today
Crushed by it all she was lost by fate.
The neighborly thing to do would be
to ask them over for a drink, those
four lovely blondes living next door.
But I know they would refuse - it
may not be Christian of them to
drink alcohol. Perhaps I should offer
them lemonade. No Kool Ade, thank you;
ever since Jim Jones I never mix it
with religion.
Anyway, they look
more like the Perrier types. I'll
put out my Bible and tune the radio
to the inoffensive Muzak station.
As long as the conversation on
religion stays generic, it might actually
go ok. I may get on quite well with
the flour blonde-haired Jesus girls.
I doubt there will be any real close
encounters between the sinner
and the saints, but you never know.
I'm gold God works in mysterious ways.
I once had a dream of a girl that sang pop
She was only 16 dressed like a ****, so we called her prosti-tot
She went crazy and spiraled down,
Did a music video with a depressing clown
And as for the singer, Thank God! her career finally stopped
She contemplated life
Love
Quantum physics and religion
La raison d'être
The fact she could not cook
Her knowledge all well balanced on top of her head
Yet there she was puzzled
Of life and the dead
The whys and what’s
The how’s and the when’s
All that is not known
The library after all so Gothic and vast
In contemplation she began to mentally fast
There was one book though
In the midst of them all
About lovers and love
About the depth of it all
They called it Art
Arthur Vaso's tell all
Of passion and reason
Of intellectual treason
Her gaze exposed the whole in her heart
Imagine from a book
She discovered a new Art!
There he lies sleeping,
what used to be my blonde hair,
blue eyed little boy,
who is now no longer mine.
He is his own person,
a man in age, but not in actions.
His arms are covered in what
I consider meaningless tatoos;
"In memory of Matt" and
"Only God can judge me"
are just a few.
I wonder if he remembers Matt?
How can he remember and still
continue doing what he is doing?
Does he truely believe
only God can judge him?
If he did, he would change his ways.
The bullets around his wrist
remind me of a watch
Only instead of telling time
they tell fate.
I pray every night that
they are not his fate.
I pray that the funeral
I have planned in my head won't happen.
Yet I know it will take more than prayers
to stop the madness he has created.
It will also take courage and will on his part.
Only God knows if he will one day find them both.
I've asked God countless times for the answer,
telling him it would help me
find the courage and will to go on.
The answer has yet to come.
Is it because God knows if he gave it to me,
it would take away the courage and will
I don't think I have?
she drinks too much wine
chemo has been kind to her
she’s seen her child wed
I first saw him -the blonde Adonis - at church camp when I was but 14.
In the group ahead of mine, he turned around and our eyes magically locked.
I felt so sure he liked me. That’s how I recall it anyway, but it was not meant to be,
for shortly thereafter, another boy approached me, cute and sweet,
and he and I fast became an “item.” However, I kept searching every day
for just one sight of the blonde Adonis, whose image still lingered in my mind.
Later, I saw my new boyfriend from church camp at monthly regional youth activities,
where I’d also see the blonde Adonis, who sometimes eyed me, but spoke not a word.
After a time, my long-distance boyfriend and I called it quits,
but I never stopped yearning to know the boy who I’d seen first that summer day -
the blonde Adonis who I was later to learn was one of ten charming siblings,
all beautiful children of a couple highly respected in our church community.
Tall, blue eyed, confident, popular, talented, smart and athletic,
the blonde Adonis was a young man destined for greatness!
Ever hopeful, I kept going to the regional activities, thinking “this will be the day!”
Always I’d watch him, wishing I was the girl slow dancing in his arms.
He was the most fascinating person I would never get to know,
and his thoughts about me (if he ever had any) I could never even guess.
I felt so sure he liked me when our eyes locked like magic that first time. . . .
At least that’s the way I recall it.
For The Most Fascinating Person I Never Knew Poetry Contest of Craig Cornish
*For the Cutie's Identity, See "About this Poem"
Strawberry blonde hair blown wild by the breeze
Trailing behind as her mount she did tease
Rousing his vigour as they came to the high hedge
All the way over and still they had the edge
Will her triumph be held right up to the end
By and by we will know the answer my friend
Everyone watching and urging them on
Run boy run, is the theme of their song
Rising again to jump the very last fence
You should have heard the crowd as they winced
But though the log rattled it never quite fell
Long were the sighs as the pair did so well
Onto the finish line for a rousing cheer
Now it's all over, some will sup beer
Down at the stables much later that day
Ellie groomed her steed in the proudest of ways...
©Rhumour
July 14th 2010
like blue blisters in the sun her eyes pierce me
through with a fierce reckoning as she looks on
"you can't keep me here, I'm long gone" she told me.
and I smoked the rest of my lit cigarette as I watched her
walk passed the wall I had built around myself
and out the front door. she walked away
with the same sizzling stride God walked away
and I'm left here with a beer, partially intact, happy with my secret pact
to never fall in love
with a blue-eyed blonde beauty
ever
again.
to be in love again
like before. like the movie.
when you can feel the universes are
all
just the right size
and everything fits like a
glove
Rapunzel, Rapunzel, such beautiful hair
I bet it needs a lot of care
Oh how I love these lovely blonde locks
And those blue eyes, ever ready to shock
The tower in which you so sweetly sang
And all around the echo of your haunting melody rang
Often you’d let down your curly tresses
For the young prince’s hot caresses
Those wild kisses and encircling arms
Away from prying eyes of people on the farms
The evil witch in her scarlet coat
Would come visiting by the boat
And sternly call from right under
Her shrill voice would ring like thunder
Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair
That I might climb the golden stair
Enchanting is this love tale
That children have heard all around the vale
And preserved to be retold again
The world will a lot from this gain
25/07/2011
By Tahera Mannan
For Linda’s ‘Disney’ contest
His name is so touching it gives me wonderful joy,
he so amazing and rare i fallin in love with this blonde hair boy,
My heart was broken and now is renew, he has took all the broken pieces and had stuck them back toghter like glue,
I have asked God why he sent me an angel so handsome and amazing, he had told me back that angel was there to love u and to save me,
i pray everynight since the day we had meet that are love feelings would get stronger for that was what our mind was set,
we may be young and in love but for him i would stop at nothing, people may just get jaluse but you know they are blufing,
my passion for him is like an never ending hole, so deep and passonite when he is with me my life isnt dull,
i fallin in love with this blonde hair boy, i wont make any regret because i fallin in love with the right amazing choice !
Rolling golden green hills
of northern Kalifornia.
Happy cows play on swings,
happy goats and sheep too.
Makes for happy milk, happy cheese,
So they Say.....
Blonde like Strawberry,
Thru the eyes of the father,
from the lips of the mother,
Welcome to a new day.
Like cool rain in Summer,
Like unburied Treasure.
The adventure of a Life (time).
May we grow you straight
Big, blonde beauties
so beautiful and so pretty,
such girls of high class
drinking from glasses,
filled with the best champagne;
and smoking their fine cigarettes,
while gossiping their fine stories
bragging and spoiling on themselves.
ha! ha!
Tell me again about your big, booty, blonde beauty
and how she has such class!
ha! ha!
Look at the plastic Barbie dolls
strutting along side a wave of Ken dolls and GI Joes.
Clumsy broads who smell like a perfume kiosk
and a Paris tavern in the 20s filled with writers like:
Hemingway and Scott Fitzgerald.
Smart guys, with good taste in real women,
and not Barbie dolls.
It is really sad to see these so-called "women"
dancing and shacking on saw-dust dance floors,
and then they go off in drunken slurs of how "they have respect for themselves!"
and those dark devils, and fools with broken hearts,
and rich Wall Street boys who carry their Daddy's pocket wallet
filled with a thousand Benjamin's,
have their nasty way with them.
Stripping them down,
like mechanics on an old 65 Mustang GT,
having their sweet and marry way with them,
with them all... no consideration... no respect... no common curtsey... nothing...
Boy, these days with these big legged women,
these Big, Blonde
and Big, brunette Beauties,
boy, where did those women go?
Where did the real women go, and
how did these portrayers,
these lies come into play?
No Clue! No Clue!
Where or Why!
All I have to say is, "Where did the time go?"
Where is my big, blonde beauty
with her common sense still intact
along with a pure liver, lungs and a golden heart;
and her books of poetry, and love for classical music?
Her only friends are dead writers and role-models.
Where is she?
Maybe she's at the library,
or the bookstore,
or the theatre,
of maybe she is not here,
maybe she is not yet born?
Maybe...
all I can say is... she is out there,
my big, blonde beauty.
.1.23.2014.