Best Wigs Poems
Wigs stolen
from a city store …
police comb the area
Categories:
wigs, world,
Form:
Senryu
Weaves to women is like an aid
Some they wear straight and some they braid
Wigs are used for easy access
They grab one quickly when their own hair's a mess
Some women wear wigs and weaves
To desire that look they want to achieve
Women think men prefer long hair
But to some men, it doesn't matter
Some really don't care
Wigs are all ready, you can grab one real quick
You put it on top of your own hair and there it will stick
Some weaves you can do yourself, you can sew or even glue
Though most go to professionals cause they know just what to do
Women spend lots of money on their hair, this you can bet
They don't want to mess it up, yet alone get it wet
I know this lady, her name is Shirley
She wears long weaves and wigs that are curly
I know this lil chick that we call Shorty
She wore the bob cut wig to Wayne's after party
Tyeisha does hair between 9 and 4 o'clock
She does extensions, twists and braids and even dreadlocks
Donna, she just likes her weave to hang
For that's how she does it when she's doing her thing
Tiffany gets her weave flat ironed with that Chi
And looks like a model everytime you see her
Now you see Colette, her hair is real long
She doesn't wear wigs or weaves for her hair is her own
Women know wigs and weaves will always be around
For wigs and weaves can be found in your town
But it really doesn't matter what you do with your hair
Because wigs and weaves ain't going nowhere
Categories:
wigs, hair, women,
Form:
Rhyme
White and powdered dressed in black coats Upholding lawlessness with finesse With forked breath they express Their jargon they bargain as they burrow and laso Freedom with ease legally they are not the west of pacos Two rights are never wrong where the morality rules The Law is good when a lawful tool Only when the vilest of men so pretend to be as sheep For punishment of doer's not to be themselves evil reap's That is when life liberty persuit of happiness are infringed Drinking up the law of the land like cheap wine they binge With greedness they leave you rubbing your chin again Seated for life was a founding oversite We have something to say it is not to late to make a date For political correction for terms and re-election When you see the wolve's affections In your court they will not your grievance's address I do not digress a call for redress God the giver riegn's supreme the Law he spoke Not for men to change or misquote
Categories:
wigs, allegory, life, men, political,
Form:
Rhyme
YEAH, MAYBE WHEN PIGS CAN WEAR WIGS
You go and try speaking to them
I’ll do my talking with my f-----g fist
Make them want to open their inner jugular veins due to the day they became a
lobbyist
Hey, Grandma Jones can’t afford her meds because you dug into the deepest pocket
And as for the subject of bribery I’m here to mock it
Don’t you see that little child laying semi-comatose?
Well all you damnable demons deserve a dose
A dose of your own medicine you legalize knowing a few may fall
Can someone lead me to a hallowed hall
With big wigs who wear small wigs
All getting with one hand and getting with the other, those amoral pigs
Oh, and that young boy took another dirty trick of yours and now he has only the
ability to crawl
And as for lobbyists, I say f__k them all!
© 2011.…Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
Categories:
wigs, angst
Form:
Monorhyme
Petunia was a pink pig
Most pigs are pink
I think
This pig spied a curly wig
Floating in the sink
I thought it was an animal
One that was dead
That lay drowning in the water
Not a wig for a sows head
Sows are female pigs, I think
As far as I remember
Lady pigs don't wear hats
Maybe in cold December
December can be very cold
In some foreign places
People wearing different clothes
To warm, hands, feet and faces
Never in my short life
Have I heard of any pig
I think
To own a curly wig
Wait! I have been thinking
How can this possibly be
I saw my Daddy wink at Mummy
And she smiled at me
If pigs don't wear curly wigs
they can't drop them in the sink
Daddy fooled me once again
I have been hoodwinked
Categories:
wigs, 1st grade,
Form:
Rhyme
i have hair
people do stare
it needs care
that am aware
i just love to eat figs
and love to wear
WIGS
Categories:
wigs, adventure, funny, growing up,
Form:
Light Verse
*Theresa's Quote:**
"To the black hairstylist: Again, I will say that you are a blessing to these women and a blessing to this hair. Black hair is a heaven-sent gift that helps black women keep their heads held high in public."
I prefer the black wig B1; it suits my complexion and looks convincing.
This is about her internship in Washington, D.C. During her college years, her health fluctuated. She spent two weeks traveling from Maryland to the city, all while searching for a place to park her car.
Before boarding a train to Washington, she majored in political science. Some stories are best left untold, but not this one. It eagerly reveals itself through my poetic sense of humor. Poetry writing is not only about rhythm and rhyme; it can serve as a voice of reason, a therapy session, and a means of soul-searching as our fingers work their magic.
A Black woman’s hair is often viewed as off-limits to outsiders. Her numerous wigs are her crown and glory. Her extensions tightly squeeze her natural hair, which she ignores for the sake of beauty. Even with a low-paying job, she carries herself with grace. Even if it means using the same wig repeatedly, she secures the B1 bob cut with bobby pins.
On that Friday afternoon, her school credits were on her mind. Her career path and every little thing weighed heavily on her thoughts. Even her romantic life took a backseat. As she headed toward her car in the parking lot, she searched for her keys in her bag, thinking of ways to beat the bumper-to-bumper traffic back in Maryland.
As she opened her car door, she noticed a well-dressed man in the adjacent car watching her. He looked attractive, and her instincts kicked in. Was he checking her out or being creepy? She offered him a faint smile.
Just as she was about to get in, her bobbed wig fell to the ground, exposing her messy natural hair. Embarrassed, she quickly picked it up and closed her door, silently asking herself, "What just happened? Why did my wig let me down?" Second chances seldom come along.
Categories:
wigs, america, anger, anxiety, appreciation,
Form:
SHE WIGS!
-Dharga Nagar Safa
Under the wig of MS wear,
Hiding,MISS and MRS hair!
Categories:
wigs, longing, lost, missing,
Form:
Verse
The siblings in our family consisted of 4 brothers and 8 sisters.
The boys were right at home in keeping our hair washed and combed.
On the other hand, the 8 girls wore pony tails, braids, and on
rare occasions, curls.
At the time of our father's demise, he was 58, mother was only 35,
and our maternal grandmother was 75. The ages of the siblings in our
large family ranged in age from 9 months to 19 years, and we were
well taught to look after each other.
I must confess that before today I never once gave thought to the subject
of hair which was a family matter that our precious mother had to contend with day after day, year after year. Indeed, her hands were filled with hair.
We were aware of wigs, but there was never a sign of wigs in our house.
On the other hand, we boys kept busy watering and feeding our father's pigs. We had a cow, a goat, a pet rabbit, and lots of chickens, but there was no sign of wigs. There was a hot plate, hot comb, straighting combs, and curling combs, but honestly, there was never a sign of wigs.
Anyway, I'm delighted to share with you that our household did have an
affair with hair. Both our parents and our maternal grandmother who lived
with us had black hair. Two brothers had black hair, and two brothers had
brown hair. Five sisters had brown hair, and three sisters had black hair.
Our mother was also a beautician, and the 8 girls always had lovely heads
of hair that would very often command a stare. I tell you, my beautiful
sisters never gave wigs a care. I share this matter of wigs with you because
I wish to clear the air that my mother, grandmother, and 8 sisters simply
did not need a wig.
We all learned early in life that there were lots of things that just were
not fair. And yes, our mother had a lot of burden to contend with and to
bare. But there is no doubt that she spent a lot of her time and effort
taking care of the hair of my 8 sisters and grandmother. But again,
there was never a sign of wigs.
Categories:
wigs, family, hair,
Form:
Narrative
I have a few whys that really bother me
like why when it rains do I pee frequently?
Why do some people enjoy wearing wigs?
Why do some men act like pigs?
Why don't cars have more of a buffer?
Why do people have to suffer?
Why do certain fabrics crinkle?
Why does old skin have to wrinkle?
Why doesn't a red head's hair turn gray?
Why won't Drs. listen to what their patients have to say?
Why won't any one write a letter?
Why isn't our world getting any better?
Categories:
wigs, 1st grade,
Form:
Light Verse
some have long hair
put it in the air
or aware
the men stare
some really dig
watch like pig
some don't know
it just a show
it the
LADY AND THE WIG
Categories:
wigs, fantasy, natural disasters,
Form:
Light Verse
my hair is long
and strong
and its black
but its wack
hard to take care
people stare
to get to my gigs
I WEAR A
WIG
Categories:
wigs, sad,
Form:
Light Verse
Autumn burnishes furry heads,
even we, who however scant our hair
flourish in this wind-blown leafy.
No room for stray gray wisps;
our locks turn golden brown,
crown our minds with crinkly laurels.
Mr. Groundhog looks pretty spiffy
in his cabbage leaf toupee,
even the bent old lady
who walks pell-mell
in the Fall, the strewn and gusty,
has sewn together a wig so big
that it covers her face with beauty.
Categories:
wigs, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
The best wigs are on dandelions.
Zig-zag leaves can make a crown.
The lion is the yellow flower,
and it will leave behind...
a pom-pom for a clown.
Categories:
wigs, garden,
Form:
Rhyme