Best Follicle Poems


Microscopic Windfall

Perhaps I’m facing pogonophobes? 
Apparently wore the wrong face.
Age-hardened wiry wisps forge 
post-pubescent platemail -
protect strangers
from my truest fleshy pores, protect me 
from the xenophobes of the Winter Conference. 

It’s all pitching and coffee breaks 
In a hall too grand for these meager mergers
Silent hecklers - likely clean-shaven -
likely Twitter-blasting about
an awkward pitch 
and bitterness. 

A beard grows opacity over my ebullient disinterest,
feigns sophistication amidst sophists, 
and harbors microbes – an entire ecosystem –
Bored, I wonder;
Do they hold conferences as well?
Share stories around a follicle?

How uncomfortable 
the itch of capitalism,
This profit pilgrimage 
huddles us together
for that sickness to spread. 
Free meals, networking with the estranged - 
connect vacuously over downed drinks 
and political action. 
Shallow words spread thick
on the biological superhighway 
bacterium feast freely. 
The Winter Conference;
a microscopic windfall.   

CONTEST ANNOTATION: 

I’ve attempted to employ alliteration (‘post-pubescent platemale’), ambiguity (‘…for that sickness to spread’), double entendre (‘free meals’ and ‘bacterium feast freely’), imagery (‘my truest fleshy pores’, ‘Age-hardened wiry wisps’), paradox (‘ebullient disinterest’, ‘networking with the estranged’), and parallelism (‘likely clean-shaven – likely Twitter-blasting’).  Not sure I’ve nailed every aspect of these devices - love the contest format as a way to force us in new directions!

Holy Follicle!!

Oh, I am so angered, outraged and appalled
I think that I’m going bald
My dad had great hair
So I never really cared
But, to the hair club for men I am called

From my butt, they could extract some hair
Because I think I have so much to spare
But I cannot tell
Do you think it would smell?
Oh well I think, I’ll just leave it there

Conspicuous Lice

Some conspicuous lice met once or twice  
With white follicle mites who came out at night
And an upside down tick who did magic tricks
That entertained maggots who shared roasted haggis
With pole dancing worms who wriggled and squirmed
Under Chinese mosquitos munching burpy burritos
Chasing cobwebby crickets selling counterfeit tickets
To shows where no sensible grubs want to go
Warning churchgoing termites that these shows were a blight
On a class of weevil whose bite could be lethal
For marbleized moths drinking steaming Scotch broth
And sanitized beetles who had pins and needles
From sharing cold baths with nonsensical gnats
Watched by camp caterpillars strung out on painkillers
Sharing smokes with loud locusts who were very much focussed
On prostrate praying mantises with suspicious practices


A Letter To Myself

A Letter to Myself



Should I give up writing
Seems all this bleating and wailing
Bemoaning this lot of love
I am allocated to feel
But never touch

Should I stop showing the world
Such a pitiful and pathetic face
As it twists and grapples
Dug in my heart
With its suffocating blade
Of aloneness

Where I am lost

When are the fluorescing lines
Of my gratitude
What are my words praises to love
With this eternal gift
Floating me in the fires
Of hot air balloons
But still gut wrenches out my soul
In this separation

“Come on,” I tell myself
What wrapped delight have I known more
I should be proud of my hunger
Feed it with all the imagined embraces
Just for her

More a rock I should
Than this wet dripping weak kneed flannel be

More colourful and joyous
In my need
In deliverance believes

Faith it should be
For the ever bonded
To such a fate
Allows my love to consume me
Her heart so tender
Must needs better of me
Than this whimpering sop
Who’s begging and pleading
Has no real foundation in my bones

More eloquent is she
More rapturous  
Than the blazing anthologies of Isis
The hymn and rhythm of her
Calls to me 
Shout of exultant
Piercing forever’s follicle
Permeable
She saturates

More a kin to glory I should be
More humbled
And less bent to paupers knee
To lift her ankle
And kiss her feet

Rather I should not
Die so
But 
Live

Treasure the Pleasure of God's Blessings

once i had footprints as tattoos
the art was tasteless
the seed was a hateful hoax

once i had phlegm laced spit in every hair follicle
the gleam was unattractive
the roots were unbalanced and unevenly growing

once i had gnats fronting as a jazz band predominately playing dirges
the rhythm was a compulsive liar
the melody was basically a malady

then you came along 
you saw me in all chapters of unkempt
you dried my tears
you gave me shelter
you made me pray with you
you Loved me to Wellness

now i am a better man 
now i am smelling like lavender and vanilla
now my heart is richer than my many big pictures
now i know the true meaning of Prosperous Gratitude
now i know what it really feels like to be Definitively Loved
Now I Thank God and Give Him Praise For You.....

now i must go and get myself together and get ready
her funeral starts at 11am
her last words to me were 'You Blessed My Life By My Saving Yours'

Treasure The Pleasure Of God's Blessings......
© Marty King  Create an image from this poem.

An Einstein Formula

The wall of horrors was never to be addressed.
I watch these monsters emerge as marvels.
Ten little white thumbnails aglow were detached setting in two rolls.
A short man stood by himself with such a pose.
There was a giant of a man in the line of the wall very ill-composed.
These monsters would visit my house for what I do not know.
However, on this particular night, my skin begins to crawl.

The wall of horrors was never addressed even with my grandma being of Irish 
      blood.
The short man that stood by himself was a Black leprechaun.
He would just stand there and show his rotten teeth.
I would shout out to him who are you to be.
The giant would not move one inch.
The little white thumbnails were also men.
Let me now mention the black goblin who eyes were effervescent.

The wall of horrors was not addressed.
On this particular night, I became rigid.
Hair follicle felt in the arms cause me to jump up and run.
In the front room, I went to tell my mother about what I see.
She told me go to bed.
I was an obedient child and went as she said.
Fast asleep, I desired; however, I only closed my eyes.
I will awaken, as day broke, with new profound knowledge untold.
_____________________________________________________|
PENNED ON OCTOBER 12, 2014!


Premium Member Sunlight In My Hair

I love the warm breeze with sunlight in my hair;
each follicle gently lifted, kissed by Sol.
Radiant arms touch my lively essence so rare;
making my aged, tired, and lame body feel whole.

Each follicle gently lifted, kissed by Sol;
warmth of his smile brightens chilly wearied days.
Making my aged, tired, and lame body feel whole;
soaking up all of sunlight’s magical rays.

Warmth of his smile brightens chilly wearied days;
when all seems lost and full of deep depression.
Soaking up all of sunlight’s magical rays;
always seem to help with the soul’s transgression.

When all seems lost and full of deep depression;
radiant arms touch my lively essence so rare.
Always seem to help with the soul’s transgression;
I love the warm breeze with sunlight in my hair.

Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey

First Place Winner ~ "Sunlight” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Nikko Palmario
May 12, 2011

Going, Regrowing

I'm sitting here in despair,
I used to have so much hair,
At least I've still got a grin,
Perhaps I'll have a lottery win
And get a follicle transplant to repair.

Premium Member Fascinated With Forensic Science

Forensic science fascinates me
in a curiously, unnatural way.
I cannot get enough of it.
The blood droplets, the hair follicle,
the fingernail that proved someone was
where they were not supposed to be.

Sometimes wondering why this has such an
all encompassing overwhelming hold
on me, I think it is the brilliance behind
the scenes that has amazed and intrigued
me into watching every forensic TV show
I can get my eyes on.  

That and the fact that these people have
gone to such great lengths to help solve crimes.
I think it is their expertise and genius that has kept
me fully engaged and enthralled.

Premium Member Chickenpox High

CHICKENPOX HIGH

I caught chicken pox from
My son,
Oh what fun!
I was thirty five and spots,
Enveloped me from each hair follicle
On my head,
Right down to in between every toe, 
I had to stay in bed!
My thesis for my Honours degree 
In Sociology
Was due in a week’s time,
I had a raging temperature, and
Floating quite high, 
Hallucinating I was about to climb,
The Peloponnese,
I got to the top with such ease!
My spots were itching and
Driving me mad,
But knew if I scratched them,
I would scar,
And in my delirious state,
Thought, how could I then become,
A superstar!
I applied tons of calamine lotion,
Gently, for the genie in my dream,
Whispered seductively it was a love potion!
A mermaid beckoned me to follow,
Her,
Which I did, and was joined by Garfield,
Whose purr,
I could distinctly hear,
And who stared at me grinning from
Ear to ear!
Even Asterix paid me a visit,
And we went to a rock concert, 
Together, we both got in with only,
One ticket!
In my feverish state I was confused, 
Who was who, 
Garfield, Asterix I groaned,
I have a thesis to finish!
They handed me a completed piece
Of work that was half in French and half
In English.
The following day I began to feel better,
And completed my thesis,
For my honours degree,
In Sociology.
I Passed and graduated, and in my
Dream that same night,
Acknowledged that all three,
Of us graduated together in this 
Frantic plight.
Thanks guys,
The next morning I woke up,
Teary eyed!

The Verse Is Mightier Than the Whole

the pen,
soulless,
stilled
with
chewed cap,
and emptied cartridge,
as my yen
burns like an addict's fire,
palm sweat on parchment,
syllables, prosody,
sans serif mind flow,
while demure muses
whisper soft moisture,
follicle and promise,
into my thought train,
running like a hangnail,
raking blank canvas,
flecked in textured ink
and immovable type,
scrivened on envelopes,
spilt on torn napkins,
blown out on e-pages,
squirt into ether,
no action,
no traction,
cry out for
electronic
reaction,
the verse
is mightier
than the
whole...

*****Sapience Sapience

He was born with a bushy round follicle-free head
and walks with two legs, because 
he is a Neanderthal(1) mutant,

for he is a mutational product, 
he is an android(2) not found in the evolutionary tree, 
and that’s why he was so sad; he began to roam the surface 
of the earth, he climbed up the mountains, crossed the rivers 
and traveled over the expansion of fields beyond the horizon;

to soothe the sorrow of being alien 
he labored to find another android similar to him;
and if he finds one, he is forced to lay her down on the ground 
and sow the seeds to establish a new genealogical table; 
the seeds grown to Hominidae.(3) 

As time goes by his hair on his head became thinner 
because the roots of his hair decayed from no follicle
and at last, he became bald; 

each time a sun-ray reflects on his head
his anguish grows in the valley of misery he is trapped in 
and leading his poor life. He escapes from the valley and crawls 
into a cave(4) peculiar from all the other caves he’d seen so far, 
and he fixed a flag.

As the wind rises the flag streams, 
when the flag flutters the sky roars to pierce the ears;
then the sky falls to the ground from a gap between
the roars gushing out ashes and fires. The fire heats
to burn the stones lying here and there by the water’s edge. 

When sky, earth, fire and the stones intermingled in one 
it tortures the Neanderthal with the red-hot iron of death,
then, *****Sapience survived from breathing the oxygen 
that Neanderthal left behind; and as day grows taller and taller
*****Sapience finds the way to preserve oxygen; 

thereupon, Hominidae mixes this excess oxygen to produce 
black powder with the ratio of 10KNO3 + 3S + 8C, 
and stuff it into a bamboo-tube;

tomorrow therefore explodes, time stops,
the sea swallows the earth. As things come this far,
though there may be worse things waiting in the future,
the crippled time, comes with quick steps winding a malfunctioning clock. 


NOTE: 1. *****Neanderthalensis and *****Sapience are different *****species, therefore, though *****Sapience Sapience is not a mutated species, but just so regarded in this poem..  2. Android: in this poem this phrase is synonymous to synthetic organism rather than electro/mechanical robot.  3. Hominidae: this term is used as existing modern Human.  4. Francis Bacon, Idra Specus.
© Su Ben  Create an image from this poem.

O Don'T Know What This Is Called

The implosion of a thought is neither a shred or a shard. In fact it is surely a pulsation of a wisdom whirlpool? Really? How rather radical. And amusing to the laughs of the rhombuses who gather with rhinos to celebrate the correct correspondence from a diagram which has been deleted by a diaphragm. No condolences required in a tepee but echoes of deaths can mean the picking of fruit would become timely,important,and long overdue. Oh dear. How unfortunate that a printed skirt can collapse on a beam like a fly on a wall. It is imperative to note that doctrines are not fables nor are they of importance for they merely feel that they are. And now it is the gatherings of the mutton mutations who are ingesting but losing wool due to the wisdom of wind capsules. Wow . The flotation of heifers timed is an undignified duty to an orbit of an orb and an orb can cast aspersions so never argue with an ambidextrous shrew in a multi coloured cape.  And a four gee sim can always placate and be more interesting than placing order in a misty mansion. But misty mansions were supposed to be respected. Yet folk trample and tread and feats by fairies are often unnoticed by small footed monkeys. Balance not a tome whilst on a step ladder. And always bathe in a light fragrance for air is importance to balance,stabilise and renew. Such a groundsheet sewn. And even a sultry hairdryer gets weary when catering for a cantering follicle. So go dust that tree. And iron the gardens. Rest assured that a four footer will grow. Good. Godly given gratefully greeted greatness. And a tree sap to sip. Not to spill. Line up the priests are out. Linking lineage. Then? And a cosmopolitan cosmic cosmetic clap. Bang. Oh. Oblivious to none is agreed by some so throw the leper in the bin. Radical ridicule rather ravenous raping ruling rods reeking. And a little fly to the sands of time. Great isn't it? No. For that is an Orpheus snail that is barking and a cacti jumps up and down. Downloads are a programmable prison then. Fornicate not with an thistle. And carry a weapon to a gig. Guiding giving grabbing going gone. Gits. And a 190,000,987,567 tall pansy. Great. Greater the greater the greater greets. Garnished. Under siege. Vehemently z

Premium Member Unbeknownst To Rhymezone

Making it known in the twilight zone, 
an unknown, error-prone player reached a milestone 
using  follicle stimulating hormone 
to produce a phytohormone clone of Alicia Silvestone 
honed from a fully grown breastbone and stray histones.
Above the wind blown ozone-  a moss-grown millstone
 the well known capstone of a milestone not foreknown.

Better known was Paula Poundstone 
for taking growth hormone when fully grown 
who could hold her own against the overblown overtone-
of reggaeton,
to win a starring role in Philosopher’s Stone, 

You may think this poem is overblown 
An alphabet kaliedophone.
A mining of words that are super unknown
And bemoan its pretentious overtone.
A poem that’s nothing but shadow and stone
Contrived to tickle your funny bone.

In View of My Mortality Part 2 of 2

- and GOD Said: -

Live Each Day With Joy Even Thru Tests
Live Each Day Having Mercy & Tenderness
Live Each Day As Tho' Opening A Treasure Chest
Yes, Live On This Earth, Like An Honored Guest

- yes GOD Said: -

Live Each Day Without A Skulk or A Scare
Live Each Day On Spontaneous & A Daily Prayer
For You Really Know WHO Is Truly Out There
It's More Than Molecules & Fusion-Moves & Thin-Air ...

- and GOD Said: -

HE Made The Elements & The Genetic DNA Stair
HE Calls Each Star & Counted Each Follicle of My Hair
HE Sent HIS Son, So That I Would Know HE Cares
& HE Put No More On Me Than I Could Bear
& So I Trust THE ONE Who Created Life To Share
As HE Forgives The Repentant Ones & Spares ...

As I Face My Mortality
I Do Not View It As Finality
For This Isn't The End of My Totality
Just My Memoirs of Victory Over Tragedy
For Future Review & Autobiography

and If Must, Let This Be My Eulogy:
"JAH Will Keep Her In HIS Memory
For GOD Will Re-Spark Her With HIS Energy
So, She Did Not Fear Eventuality
... As She Faced Her Own Mortality"

As I Face My Own Mortality
I See It As A Bridge To Humility
I See It As A Release From Infirmity
I See It As A Stairwell At The Mystery

Or As I Step On The Tightrope of Infinity
Balanced By The Almighty, Eternal Entity
WHO Gives My Endurance More Elasticity
... to Stretch  Out My Mortality Indefinitely

... As I Face My Own Rate of Mortality
As I Face My Own Efforts's & Tasks' Inequality
I Truly Thank My GOD Most Emphatically ...
For Being Guardian of My Mortality

& Changing Mortal Thoughts To Immortality


 Written & Copyrighted © :  9/7/2013 
     by:  MoonBee Canady

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