Best Lovehair Poems
in the dream of last
night, your hair was dyed
darkest brown (when its
sandy brown was what
I knew) but I loved
you still. you looked
at (and through) me
with still-blue eyes
that spoke the chance
I lost once,
long before
I even
knew what
I had
missed
but
you reached
out arms
I could but
hope ached as
mine had ached
embracing fear
(that was my soul)
and holding peace
despite the truth
that I failed to see
(or I did see, but
would not believe): that
you changed your hair but
still did not love me.
Shards of moonlight slice through my dash
weakened by long silent rain drops.
Sarah, tosses her blonde hair in half circles
bringing waves of Brian Wilson's “feel flows”
crashing off my thoughts of tainted blood.
She's still opaque behind heart shaped glassess, but
I've already seen the soft moles below her eye.
Newports and tangerine trident escape the rhythm.
Pabst blue ribbon and crooked art work is
passed through rolled up tin foil.
The click of my lighter glows the weeping
hairs on the side of her cheek.
Focusing on the melting numbers of the clock,
my eyes ignore imperfection.
Another number Drip and the thud of the car door will
leave me with only her silver hair clip.
Before I can spit another stylish fragment
She drives her hand through ashes
presses all of New York City on My neck..
I was a girl who cut her hair short Because I love to be different and not impress.
They called me freak and spit and I just smiled on the outside but inside I wasn't
laughing
My lover brought me comfort she loved my short hair she loved more than the world did
When we kissed nothing else matter when we were together nothing else mattered. If love
was all we had love was all we wanted and because of that nothing else mattered to girls
in love
Remember once when we last walked,
The beach of our childhood, you asked?
Make your choice, as I trailed sand behind you.
Then I climbed beyond your long shadow to the stone shore
And you reached out to me, do not fall now.
What choice is there for me? Tanks are on the beach
Our mighty military strategy pointing to the penguins and the seagulls
Choose your future, you speaking against the wind
Barely, I heard your word future, all I saw were tanks
with your wavy smile you held my hair back, crazy hair girl
Come back, we belong here together.
A life without tanks, I said,
My choice is,
to dream, to build and to think free, that is my destiny,
Separated, a life-sentence, you whispered,
So unjust a choice, you screamed it.
I cried loudly, louder and wider than the waves,
You screamed it over, over and over, frightening the birds.
The tank guards thought ours a lover’s spat on the rocks,
smiling down as we shuffled out of the tide in random steps.
Beyond the beach, I left your bed, your patio, your street,
I flew into the air.
Remember, yesterday when I forgave you,
Your choice that is,
to dream, to build and to stay here, that is your destiny,
And you reached out to me, do not fall now.
Separated, is our life sentence, I whispered.
Yes no choices left for us then, you said.
Choose again.
She wore a long gold coat,
a short black dress underneath,
and high heeled shoes.
Her hair was up, her make up carefully applied.
I took her to see The Nutcracker.
She said she’d never seen ballet before.
I longed to hold her hand,
my eyes on her thighs
as we sat in the darkened auditorium
and watched the dancers.
In the taxi she invited me in.
Looking wonderful
in the tight black lacy dress,
she gazed into my eyes, her pupils huge,
and let her hair down.
I ached to kiss her painted lips, but didn’t dare.
We sat and chatted about the ballet…