Best Wig Poems


Premium Member Year of the Wig

(This is a true story from 2001, when I let my
hair grow back to dark, and I fooled a few people
who thought the wig was still my own hair but with 
a different shade of blonde!)

Growing roots meant bad hair each day;
bought a wig to stay blonde at school.
One guy loved my color that way.
Said, "Your hair's never looked so cool!"

For Rick Parise's "A Bad Hair Day" Contest
using Chastushka (Russian form of poetry
with trochaic tetrameter).

Where's My Wig

Two girls whisper something
I know they are talking about my hair

One of them has long straight sleek hair that reaches her mid back
The other has short hair that's smooth and silky 

Of course I can tell that the long hair isn't real, neither is the short
I wonder what's the price tag on the long hair
Must be someone's else hair
Or must be from the factory 
I bet she can't wait to take it off when she gets home, in her privacy, away from the adoring eyes of admirers of beauty 
I bet she can't wait for the end of the month when she gets paid so she can spent the bigger portion of her cheque on new hair

And the short hair! Girl, I bet she spends uncountable hours on it
The amount of time and man power spend on bringing out that "magic" must be a fortune 
And the amounts of chemicals dumped in that hair......if only scalps could talk!
Someone could be paying not just physical damage but also psychological one

Two girls whisper something 
Two girls make fun of me

They make fun of my natural hair
My hair has many names kinky, nappy....etc 
Some girls think I don't care
but I am proud of what I see in the mirror 

"I AM NOT MY HAIR" Thank you India Arie

Flipping the Wig

The girl had her groove on she 
laughed a lot and was hip and 
not too heavy going. At seventeen 
I needed an old lady to go to the
prom with. Not wanting to wipe 
out on my first try I caught the 
groove, Taking my time, this chick
was bitchen from top to bottom,
But I had a gnarly set of nerves 
because I woke up with a zit on my
nose, what a bummer. I didn't want 
her to think I had cooties so I waited. 
The time came to ask her. Well, after 
all this feeling like a dork, she said 
yes she would love to go. 
Wow what a gas, I flipped out.


My Wig (

We leave on vacation to see the Grand Canyon 
I ask my son when is the last time ha changed his socks, his feet smell like 
salmon 
My wife laughs and says that isn't his feet, it's his breath 
I tell her no more equate toothpaste, we're switching to Crest 
My wife says in a panicky voice, I forgot my social life line 
I tell her to calm down, everything will be fine 
She says, turn around and head toward home with the speed of a Russian Mig 
We can't take this trip, I can't be without my wig 
One hour and two tickets later we finally arrive back home 
Now she has her wig in hand and her voice has a nice, calm tone 
She says what are we waiting for, let's be on our way 
It's only 9:30am, it's already been a long, long day 
Now we are back to the area where we had to turn around 
I remember that singles club called Lost and Found 
As evening settles in, we stop by an eatery called The Autumn Twig 
She says please bear with me as I put on my wig 
My son and I sit in the car quietly, as we are close to death from a lack of food 
My wife tells us let's enjoy our vacation, you two need to adjust your attitudes 
We sit in the car and watch as people come out of this greasy spoon diner 
I keep reading their slogan, If you're lookin' for rib stickin' food ain't none finer 
I keep having these visions of me at the table, eating so much, my wife and son 
call me a pig 
Finally she is done fixing her wig 
I watch in horror as the Diner's lights go off 
My dream is gone, no pig, no trough 
She says in disgust, that's just great, where can we get a bite to eat now 
I tell her about a barbecue joint five up the road called Four Sides of a Cow 
She says okay, but I could not belive what she just did 
She smiles and says I told you everything will be okay, as she removes her wig 
We arrive outside the place rated as some of the best barbecue around 
She throws her wig on the dash and laughs like a circus clown 
She says my hunger has taken over, I believe she's flipped her lid 
She says let's go on inside, these people don't know me, they have never seen 
me without my wig

Wig of Stars

The moon 
put on her wig 
of stars
that trailed across
the universe.

If I get
stuck 
out on the sun
please don't
try to comb
me out.

I am the farmer
that
plowed
the field of stars
in your 
field of vision.

Premium Member Wig, Out

he’d bought a skull rug for that spot
high on his head where hair was not

but …

it brought him rash and scalp decay -
one horrid nightmare’s “hell toupee”









Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, February 28, 2023


The Wig Maker

When a wig maker saw my wife's hair, he adored it.
He wanted it and said that he'd pay top dollar for it.
So I cut me wife's hair off while she was asleep.
She walked out the door after calling me a creep.
Perhaps I did go too far.
But I wanted to buy a car.
I went to a used car lot and bought a beautiful red Camaro.
If you're wondering if I got away with it, the answer is no.
My wife went home to be with her mother.
And then I got a visit from her two brothers.
One came at me with an axe, I was lucky that my head wasn't severed.
The other torched my Camaro and covered me with tar and feathers.
It took four weeks to get that tar out of my hair and off my skin.
If I live to be a hundred, I'll never cut off a woman's hair again.

(This is a fictional poem)

Premium Member The Pigeons of Trafalgar

The pigeons of Trafalgar Square
Are feathered, yet lacking in hair.
They'd look erudite,
With wigs powdered white,
But wouldn't get up in the air.

Premium Member I've started wearing a wig in the car

It's thrilling
But so is this poem

I want to take up a most profound authority
Throughout the neighbourhood

A village pastor
And various pursuits of a similar kind

Give me my own planet
My own earf

Postmodernist scumbag
And cowboys from hell days

I want to hear the new Beyonce album
Between the buried and me

I am a cloud cuckoo lander
And wear a wig when driving my car

And the drying clothes all in the attic
I haven't time to fold them away tidily

But even the thieves were forgiven

Premium Member Adventure In An Upscale Wig Shoppe

Pierre's upscale wig shoppe sells fine toupees
Gus said, "This one I want to buy today."
   Gus was ready to spit
   'Cos his wig didn't fit
Pierre smiled ~ "First get a haircut, OK?"

Premium Member Grandmas Punky Wig

They could not wait to see what grandma’s newest wig would be.
Prepared for almost anything, she was whimsical and full of glee.
They began to laugh and point. The youngest one said “whoopee!”
She created a sassy and hippy-like wig that was totally punky.
My whimsical grandma for sure suits me, said Sammy, only age three.

Premium Member On a Wig Named Mary

borderline borderline

                                           strike a pose









***

Premium Member Drag Queen

bright colored feathers
dancing romancing red cheer
wig a gig heart big

In Her Copper Coloured Wig

A respectable girl was she; or so she appeared to be 
Living alone in her dear little cottage at number seventy three

Each day she left home bright and early, as she walked to the railway station
Awaiting the train she would ponder upon her total transmogrification

Travelling first class to London, dressed in a suit and leather brogues
She was the picture of respectability, but nobody really knows 

Heading straight for the club in Soho, where she was paid to perform
Descending the stairs, she took a deep breath, as she completely transformed

Into a girl named Sinitta, where dirty old men queued to meet her
She danced with seven fans and with carefully positioned hands

In her copper coloured wig, for she had nothing else to hide behind
Dancing in a trance, she would escape to her unconscious mind

She danced her eyes shut tightly, giving a zombie like display
Her only way of getting through the dance each working day

Whilst traveling home she calculated monies she would earn
For she had reached her breaking point; it was the point of no return

All monies that she’d earnt so far, went to support her dearest Ma
In the best asylum she could find; for sweet dear souls who’d lost their mind


Written 31st October 2018
Contest No 512
Sponsor Brian Strand
1st placement

Premium Member Mr Wig

[Pylon (UK) = Transmission tower or Electricity pylon (USA)
Domestos = Bleach]
_________________________________________________

Jeremy Wig was entirely bald
He sought the best hairpiece that he could afford
He opened his wallet which made the moths blink
With just a few coins he had to rethink

He went to a fancy dress shop for his hair
The price was unreal - like everything there
The wig that he purchased had hair made of nylon
He got a big shock when he walked near a pylon

People would laugh for his hair was a shocker
He looked like a seventies reject punk rocker
He hurried off home, wiped his feet on the mat
A static charge instantly toasted his cat

He went here and there, lightning bolts everywhere
Burning folk’s clothing and their underwear
Stark naked people with burned crinkly hair
All would curse Jeremy’s new nylon hair

People he knew learned to dress in asbestos
Someone said, “Let’s make the man drink Domestos.”
Whatever they said he just didn’t care
For he was so pleased with his new nylon hair

He went to a party and had some fun there 
Even when six balloons stuck to his hair
A text that was typed made his hair stand on end
The fireworks started when someone pressed ‘Send’

When someone said, “Go back to just being bald.”
He thought of the horrible names he’d been called
He wasn’t prepared to be somebody’s joke
He pulled a balloon off… and went up in smoke

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