Frizzy Poems

The Queen of Venice Beach

Some late blooming occurred in the seventies
when 'Hey Jude' and the sunshine in her head
went public.

She settled into a craft shop, gently molested
by Applejack and Californian Skunk
until a self-image exploded.

An aftershock of rainbows continued.
Ruckle lips roam a now manic makeup.
Gainsborough hats trump frizzy kablooey.

On the boardwalk, she stands palimpsest,
a fragmented journalism of more colorful times.

She turns to her subjects, smiles, not for the camera,
but at the one thing that detonated her
back when she was just a girl
with looking-glass eyes.

A Freckled Glow

Unbridled downpour of laughter,
flooded frizzy her hair will plaster.
Rays splash from within.

She embraces impeccable quirks,
fully aware of exactly what works. 
Grin and rock that safety pin.

With eyes reflecting diamond skies
when she laughs she always cries.
Such charm should be a sin. 

Beautiful in such an atypical way,
onlookers flock to her without delay.
A freckled glow on supple skin. 

100 % chance when that giggle forms,
there’s a forecast of sunshine storms. 
That’s how she’s always been.

The Red Lion

Apart from the worn stone-step
where drunks still topple,
or the hand-painted sign,
all has changed,
now a neon glow backlights a plasticized fascia,
all ‘local color’ painted over.

In the car park,
two frizzy blondes face off,
The smaller has plastic bangles,
she rattles like a Zulu warrior,
fingers stab through cusswords.
Youths shout
over the clomping-thump
of their car radios.

"I used to come here often"
I explain to my incredulous wife.

"Good times."

Neglected

Lights off,
Door closed,
She leaves again.
I see the men she goes off with every night-
Never the same, never familiar.
And I'm left here,
Alone.
Always alone.

The silence.
That heavy, 
dreaded
silence
Descends when she leaves, 
The click of the lock, 
The turn of the key, 
Pushes her further away.

I want to scream for her,
Into the dark, unforgiving street,
But she won't come back.
Not for me, not for anyone.

She returns
When she must.
But she doesn't speak,
Not to me.
Her hair tangled, frizzy,
Clothes torn,
Sick on the carpet,
Tears fall,
One, 
By, 
One.

I hear them hit the floor.

I want to comfort her, 
To let her know I'm here, 
But she doesn't care.
Not about me.
Sometimes I wonder if she remembers me,
If she even knows I exist,
But I'm here!
I'm always here.
I never leave.
I can't.
I won't.
Because if I leave, 
She'll be all alone, 
Even with those men,
Those countless, nameless men.

They can't get enough of her.
Do they even know her name?
Do they know
She has a daughter?
A family,
A life beyond those nights?
Probably not.
They don't care.
But I do.
I'll always care.

service animals

the dog next to me in line at K-mart was a Pitbull
The lady behind the counter gave her mean looks so slow
I was horrified when she told me what kind of dog it was
The pouch was rather plain, had no fur, hair or fuzz.

I am terrified of them, but we have to allow them in.
If they have a sign that says it is a service dog, said Jenn.
I knew her name from her badge, she had frizzy red hair.
She nearly went insane when the next service animal was a bear.

Knotty

A knotty path, woven in twine 
With twists and turns like frizzy vine 
With ups and downs and rugged plains 
With teary tales and bloody stains 

Above and below knots of square 
Are damages one can't repair 
For they're engraved in hearts of stone 
And their hellhole reaches the bone 

But time is kind for those who wait 
For those who love and shun the hate 
For those who tie down their burden
On the waiting halls of heaven 

For time will come when chains will break 
Knots will loosen for goodness sake 
The knotty path will soon unfold 
The sky will clear as it was told

Keep, knock, knotty poetry contest 
2nd place

Pointless Fear

It seems to be in my domain
To be scared on everything
Like pain
Frisbees 
People with frizzy hair
That seem not to care
Made up words
Like zurd
jurd
And vurd
Or common names
Like sophia
Sophie
Sean
Or unique names like
Gurlda
Or hilered
Or weter
Or people that are super slender
Or people of the opposite gender
Or the centers that say we need chicken tenders
And fractures
Or really big words
Like Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis
Or Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia
Or Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
And hidden chickens in the kitchen 
And people who write poetry 
Oh wait
Thats me

Love Starved

Its midnight, my hair is frizzy from the rain
I can’t fight, I'm going numb from all the pain
The night sky dusts my face with tiny stars
But to you i still don’t look quite good enough

Sometimes , i just want you to kiss the scars
On my thighs, and tell me I’m a work of art,
love lies, between the seams and in the cracks
Of my life 
It is seldom found

Holy Moly

Mrs Mole gave birth to a baby girl
Who arrived early
Mother Mole was horrified
To see her baby's coat was curly
Mrs Mole got a brush
Before it was too late
She brushed and brushed her baby's coat
Trying to make it straight
The more she brushed, the more it curled
Which made Mother Mole dizzy
Looking down at her baby girl
Whose coat was now all frizzy
She did not look like a mole
Or a hairy shrew
Was she another species
Original and new
Moles never have hair,
They are covered in skin, smooth and velvety
Without a crinkle in
One can only imagine, on that fateful day
This baby girl was innocent
And brought her love with her to stay

The Good Old Days

From side to side;
the smile of the morning sun,
and the cool of the midnight moon,
amidst the sparky stars.

I grin like a Cheshire cat.

as I seat underneath Divinity’s love for the globe;
the Soft breezes blow from odorous meadows
I get filled up with
nostalgic memories,

Oh! the good old days.
my dark brown eyes,
the dark youthful skin,
my frizzy youthful hair.

Everything retreated from me.
Oh! the good sweet old days,

Am now ancient,
 My never ending epistemophilia and 
wish to give the young people optimism.
my adaptability be exhume,
and live among the folk.

Change cannot be paused,
it’s an automatic, 
it needs not your consent to transpire.

Wreathed in smiles,
about my then and now;
I go to slumber like
a bird singing on the tree.
I’ve tasted of life’s sweet wine.

It Left Her In a Tizzy

There was this lady I once knew
Who sat there looking so blue
Her hair was all frizzy
It left her in a tizzy
Cause this fellow just wanted to... uh... talk!

A Baby Owls Mistake

Oh I shouldn’t have left that nest,
these pelting water drops have zest.
They’re cold and hard upon my head,
if they topple this mushroom, I’ll be dead.

So cold and hard, heavy they be,
I wish I’d stayed within that tree.
Mum and Pop said, “don’t go down there”,
but, I ignored them, without a care.

Now I am too wet to fly,
I wish I were up, high and dry.
I sit here, with my toes wet and chilly,
my feathers are getting a bit frizzy.

What is that pain? Is it a headache?
Oh boy, I made a bad mistake.

My Mother's Christmas Angel

She sat grandly on our Christmas tree
hair of shining spun gold
her buttons sparkling
dress of white lace
an Angelic smile.

Her wings a shimmering silver hue
We watched each year
softly being placed
with loving care
atop the tree.

My mother standing back telling Dad,
move her just to the left Phil,
no, now right dear,
now forward.
Perfect!

The years have now come and gone
Mom and Dad have passed away
the Angel lay in her box now
her dress dirty and worn
hair frizzy & unkempt
buttons gone astray.

Memories are made and then stored
just like Mom's beautiful Angel
her radiance never forgotten
shining so very bright
each Christmas.

A Christmas Gift Memory Poetry Contest
Sponsor: BJ Legros Kelley
12/4/2021

National Hair Day

It’s National Hair Day - raise a comb!
Shake your tresses - write a poem!
Whether blonde, brunette or red,
Let’s celebrate what’s on your head.

Curly, wavy, frizzy, straight,
Pigtails or a single plait,
Buzz cut, Mohawk, updo, ‘fro,
Messy or arranged just so.

How we look, what gives us flair 
Depends, in part, upon our hair.
No matter what your style is called 
It’s yours to flaunt - unless you’re bald!

Dizzie Dazzel

Dizzy dazzel! Mizzy mazzel,
everybody is in a tazzel!

Frizzy frazzel, boozie bazzel, 
everyone is so crazy crazzel!

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