Best Unshaved Poems
Keys rattle,
door slowly closes ...
An echo of footsteps walk upstairs..
You can hear his bedroom door close,
a little bump as he sits on his bed,
then there is just nothing..
They think he is angry,
raging at the world,
anti social, but at work he smiles,
jokes and shows a jovial side,
like a 'Pirate of the Caribbean'
but in his home he seems lost,
like a hollow house.
Nobody notices the scruffy hair,
nor the unshaved grisly stubble -
of a once debonair gentleman.
He once illuminated like a lighthouse,
but now seems invisible,
with faint tears,
hidden behind 'Johnny Depp' eyes -
in shallow depths his spirit drowns.
His room is dark with a somber hue,
with misty windows and fading walls.
A scent of suffering like 'Edward Scissorhands.'
His mirror reflects agony of an unspoken soul,
resembling a faded photograph - he is a ghost.
He feels he is a 'dead man from hell,'
but paying for the sins of others -
when in reality his pride is crucifying
his conscious into realms of future regret.
In his theatre of solitude,
he is an anti-hero in his own mute madness,
where he feels safe - forgotten.
A place to breathe his last breath,
which was reserved for his '
abandoned' butterfly beloved -
now lost in a storm.
Locked in the observatory of loneliness.
His glory is to remain a secret puzzle
in his silent story of suffering -
to decompose like an ageing painting -
forever abstract leaving the viewer pondering.
Categories:
unshaved, emotions, loneliness, missing,
Form:
Free verse
Screen goddess Marilyn Monroe
Rustling whirled dress with thighs that glow,
Her stockings were quite a plenty
To cover unshaved limbs, so hairy.
Kim Merryman's Cleri-Who? Contest
6/1/2015
Categories:
unshaved, beauty, humor, woman,
Form:
Clerihew
I will start with using my hand as a guide
And in the end I will open my eyes that I will decide
I consider to do this with one thing in mind
I will close my eyes and will imagine it blind
With no colors or fractionation of the light
Just plain me and a vision with my hand as my sight
My hair is very coarse and some what fine
What I just described is so benign
I twirl my hair and make it bend
And I will say its very clean not oily on the ends
As I press on my forehead I simply feel a distinct part
I notice from hair to skin it is very different from the start
The simple partings from hair not like skin
I am going to feel with my other hand and begin
The smoothness of my skin like years of water eroding a rough rock surface smooth
Not just that my skin is like home to years of stories like scars and attitude
And when I raise my eyebrows the wrinkles it makes is more so for expression
I did not notice it with certain ideas, thoughts, and emotions
I run my hands down to my eyelids I feel movement of my eyes trying to peek
Eyelids that I have, vibrates with some kind of fear, Why?, that I will seek
Just now as I thought about it a sensation ran through my brain
My eyes is the world to me and that is true and not insane
Myself portrait of me is through my touch for now
But to finish it I will have to open my eyes soon and how
I been in a trance full of so many ideas just with my eyes closed
I run my hand on my nose and lips and I smile who could apposed
The feelings in the tip of my fingers rub on my chin and jaw with care
I do notice roughness of unshaved velcro gripping hair
I skip my ears so I will sneak a feel with my fingers I chose
I notice it is like my nose with cartilage, so I don't suppose
I will now open my eyes that I will use a mirror to see myself
My head is oval shape and my neck is like a stump, please help
My skin is very tan and my eyes are brown with my eyes I see
With all the description with my hands, one sure thing is the same and key
It is the description of measurements that is what my hands and eyes can see me
With a smile I am looking into the mirror and I can describe that I am happy
Myself portrait of me is such a way to get to know myself once more
I will never think it was a waste of time or a bore
Categories:
unshaved, basketball, beautiful, beauty, confusion,
Form:
Free verse
The sea beckons.
The air is heavy with heat,
the sun fries the streets
shrivels up trees
and I feel parched.
Tired I trudge towards the waterfront.
Still the sea beckons.
Sweat runs down my face,
wets my unshaved face,
dampens my collar,
as I plod towards
the pebble lined sea shore.
The small waves glimmer,
winking in hot rays,
inviting me to cool myself.
Insistently the sea beckons.
Summer is at its worst.
I hobble down
towards the beach,
pull down my clothes
and stand in the sun's emissions
wearing my swimsuit.
Constantly the sea beckons.
I trudge towards the water's edge,
jump in and then
come out quickly, yelping.
I feel a jelly fish sting,
it burns red across my thigh.
Disillusioned I tramp back home.
The sea beckons no more.
21 August 2021
Placed 1
'Writing Prompt, Oceans or Seas -' Contest Info
Sponsor Constance La France
Categories:
unshaved, how i feel, sea,
Form:
Free verse
You can see him
an invisible man
Peter Daim
is his name
He is weathered and gray
An invisible man
but you can see him
An invisible man
No one accepts him
But everyone knows him
Poor, dirty and unshaved
Everything he owns
he has in a plastic bag
His precious treasures
He's an invisible man
but you can see him
Under the bridge
where the shadows are
he sleeps at night
Invisible and just him alone
Peter Daim
has no coins
He lives of our
food that we throw
What we call garbage
Everyone sees him go hungry and thirsty
We turn around
Because he is an invisible man
06.05.2016
- Sun :) - Anne-Lise Andresen -
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Categories:
unshaved, destiny, feelings, loneliness, pain,
Form:
Free verse
Unshaved for weeks, he looks like a yeti
Beard hangs from his chin, like soft spaghetti
Runs to the jugnel, from life so petty
Obsessed with money and mom's spaghetti
He doesn't have nada he's so in debt he
Has less nothing to his name, like he said he's
Sharing with the tribes of the Sarengheti
He's so worn down, his arms like spaghetti
Cutting bamboo with a sharp machete
The bambo breaks, just like raw spaghetti
The leaves fill the air like green confetti
He cut's through the jungle, slow and steady
Forgot bout home's warmth and mom's spaghetti
He's headed for camp, he's there already
Searching for other life, much like SETI
Showing natives things like mom's spaghetti
He opens his pack filled with raw spaghetti
Over boiling water, his brow is sweaty
In 10 minutes he'll serve them spaghetti
They all get a plate of cooked spaghetti
The chief goes wild, you can bet he
Dance round the fire like Deler Mehndi
Chief's flexible, much like cooked spaghetti
The've never seen a thing like spaghetti
Excitement abounds over spaghetti
Their lives so flexible, much like spaghetti
Dancing around over their spaghetti
Until the sun sets over the jetty
Categories:
unshaved, allah,
Form:
Ballade
I saw him sitting on the street,
With open arms and folded feet,
A beggar with a bowl,
He had on him a tattered jeans,
And matted locks that proved his means,
A poor and hungry soul;
I saw him coming out his car,
A rockstar with a new guitar,
The hero of the crowd,
A tattered jeans he had on him,
Uncombed long hair, unshaved face grim,
A rich brat spoilt and proud;
The beggar sat with hair not shorn,
Coz of no dough, his dress was torn,
I could understand that,
But that rich guy in clothes tattered,
Inspired by a beggar battered,
I think fashion fell flat.
08.23.17
Contest: Form T
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Theme: Tattered
Form: Tail-Rhyme
Categories:
unshaved, fashion, satire,
Form:
Tail-rhyme
There was a time when my dear aunt,feeling all alone,
Turned to the mail to fine a friend and so the seeds were sown,
Which brought about occurrences which shocked us and surprised;
For who'd a-thought he'd come to stay or that he had devised,
A way to become one of us,part of our family clan;
He thought we would support him if he took Auntie's hand.
He was a drunkard to be sure,a ne'r do well for certain.
Unwashed, unshaved and smellin' bad he came a-courtin', flirtin'.
She rebuffed him straight away told him, "I ain't your gal."
"All I wanted was a friend, you were just a pen pal."
So he began a small campaign to lobby for affection,
From any female in our clan, much to our objection.
My uncles came into the fray, told him that he must leave.
That they would help him pack his bag and took him by the sleeve.
They drove him to the bus depot and even bought his ticket;
But he returned next morning, he'd cashed it in at wicket.
My uncles swore their swift revenge, for him they'd find a cure.
"If you won't leave our girls alone we'll kill you for sure."
My auntie called the State Police and told them the whole story.
They came straight way and picked him up and told her not to worry.
They put him on the next bus out and said, "Do not come back,
For if you do next time we come you'll leave here in a sack."
Those boys don't care a lot for you so heed this warning well.
The swamp lands are no place for you,get out of town, pell mell."
We never heard from him again and Auntie learned her lesson.
She only wrote to those she knew,her pen pal was no blessin'.
Categories:
unshaved, family, people, relationship,
Form:
Tail-rhyme
How Unkempt and awful I look when
I forget to shave for weeks
Often have I to put off shaving for months
Once I went unshaved for a year
Either under stress,
or workplace pressure
as a result,
female colleagues
Avoid talking with me
and male
Co-workers advise me to wear a mask
my wife at home
declines a kiss.
Despite these grave repurcussions
I really never like to shave
For weeds on my face
Refuse to surrender to substandard blades
(And good blades are exorbitant and unaffordable)
I fear tetanus every time I cut my skin
For me to decide to shave is as difficult
a decision as deciding by US on carrying air raids on
Iran
Categories:
unshaved, adventure, funny, inspirational, me,
Form:
Free verse
Bedraggled and grimy they hike from the tracks,
Fleeing the urban centers to the south.
Unsteady gaits and sun worn skin glow.
A young couple with a thin mutt,
Ramble towards a local store.
The lively grin of the underfed dog transfixes me.
An overweight canine in my backyard has lost its zeal.
The unshaved one asks for cash.
I hand him a dollar.
The female asks for my socks.
I decline.
The company owns them.
Besides, they are drenched in the sweat of my labors.
The pair identify themselves as stowaways.
Unticketed travelers of the iron horse,
Riders of metallic pathways,
With destinations of unknown location,
Drifting to sleep in one state,
Arising in another.
They have not occupations or debts,
Shunning instruction for adventure.
Fed by the view,
Nourished with movement,
A tent rolled in a dirty backpack serves shelter.
Canada, Mexico, Pacific, Atlantic,
These will be the varied backdrops of unbound lives.
Taking in more in a week,
Then I in a lifetime.
I will return to my mortgaged life,
Sleep in my fixed bed,
Swallow the familiar and safe routines,
Honoring my responsibilities and obligations.
I can not chase after wild dreams today.
I am ashamed to say,
To this very day,
I fight the urge to cry.
When trains meander by,
Because I know I’ll sing this same old tired song.
While the train tramps have all but left and gone.
Categories:
unshaved, adventure
Form:
Free verse
Paranoid And Voided
If I step outside my house I’m dead!
There are monsters under my bed
I cannot sleep due to the sheep
They count on my naivety
You know how sheep can be
Cold, calculating, killers to the core
I understand from reliable sources in my head
That I am out to get me
I try to protect me from myself
Used rope to tie my hands behind me
But the rope is really a snake
Cannot be trusted, plotted against me with contempt
There is no mistake
My toys are in a rage and lined against me
Jealous of my powers and filled with envy
Ready to attack with guns and knives
Hidden behind their backs, thirsty for my blood
A delusional pack of savages to persecute me
They chase me down the hall to kill me
Or shoot me in in the back for satisfaction
I need to go to sleep….. but about the sheep….
You understand…. It is sheep
You know how they can be
They are sheep and need no explanation
I’m not paranoid at all but have to tell you all the time
Wash and disinfect your hands before you enter
There are billions of microbial creatures that have landed
Aliens, who come from other planets with a plan
Filthy, unshaved, ugly beings from the dirty universe
Come to hurt me and to place their curse
I refuse to be party to their plan and will avoid it if I can
Hold my head to keep the noise and voices in
Keep the enemy at bay with invisibility and invincibility
Hold my breath forever to keep the germs away
To kill or avoid everything there is
That can be neutralized or voided…. This I pray
Categories:
unshaved, addiction, betrayal, conflict, passion,
Form:
Free verse
When I was small
My favorite color was blue
It was my first day
Of kindergarten
Proud to announce it
Only to realize
That blue
Was a "boy color"
The girls told me that
Just like their mothers
Told them the genders
Corresponding with colors...
But this is not about colors
This is about how
Each unshaved hair on my leg
Or shaved hair on yours
Is your choice, not society's
This is about how
Women should be comfortable
In their own skin
This is about how
Each and every girl
Should be able to feel
Comfortable
In public
Without a mask of makeup
Hiding their natural skin
We are facing society
Head on
Wether it has open arms for us
Or not
No longer do we care
About what society thinks of us
We are the rejects of middle school
We have broken out
Of our boxes
And traveled beyond the shelves
And do you know what we found?
An entire nation
Of diverse
Intelligent
Women
Categories:
unshaved, confidence, girl,
Form:
Listening to incoherent jabber from Charles Manson
Or a continuos loop of music by Hanson
A summer cold with a nose that's runny
Or Bob Saget trying to be funny
A hairball that makes you cough
Or a concert performance from David Hasselhoff
Being arrested shoplifting at the Goodwill
Or putting your tongue on some cold winter steel
Soaking your clothes and running face first in to a live electric fence
Or tickets to a Barefoot Contessa upcoming event
Drinking soup out of a well worn boot
Or eating some nicely aged Baloot
Smelling a European woman's unshaved pits
Or ten yards from finishing a marathon and calling it quits
Eating a lemon lips cracked and dry
Or jumping off a building, then realizing you're not Superman, you cannot fly
Hitting shins in the dark on a metal chair
Or having a blowout in the ghetto, the blowout was your spare
Your car is ripped off, clothes in the car while you are skinny dipping in the lake
Or the thief that stole it realizes going down a mountain that it has no brakes
Sometimes decisions are a curse
You decide which is worse
Categories:
unshaved, funny, car, clothes,
Form:
ABC
The End.
Don't answer the door.
Or pick up the phone.
Never go out, opted out.
Do without.
Given up the fight.
Reached the end.
Switch off the light.
Cloths untidy, bed unmade.
Slouch around in dressing gown.
You gave a dressing down.
Why should I stir myself?
No one cares. I'm on the shelf.
Unshaved, hair askew.
Slouch around in my stew.
No hope for you, my man.
You've had it.
Thats true.
What a way to end.
In a dustbin, to send.
No good to man or beast.
Rubbish you are.
Never a star.
.......................................
Categories:
unshaved, angst,
Form:
Epitaph
A blind spot
was clinging on to earth.
Point of entry had
an eye against eye.
obsidian falls
unshaved. The guilt
of dawn was palpable.
A nimbus surrounds the pain.
A microdrone takes on
the spider. Diffusion of
hydrogen sulfide starts.
Don’t break the window.
Through my love, I touch
you on face with ashen fingers.
I step out from the hawk’s talons
into the prophecy.
Satish Verma
Categories:
unshaved, art,
Form:
ABC