Curly Hair Poems | Examples
These Curly Hair poems are examples of Hair poems about Curly. These are the best examples of Hair Curly poems written by international poets.
Me in love with my cluster of hairs
since I was running in my teens :
Curly, deep black, thick bushy,
also lengthy reaching my waist,
drawing attraction and admiration.
Felt proud paying reverence to hair.
On ageing owing to hair loss,
bound to cut till neck in steps.
Even in old age, fluffy woolly natural style
provides grace and elegance on my face.
my cockapoo pup
brings me happiness each day
fuzzy curly hair
My hair is wild, as wild as can be.
It sticks out in all sorts of places,
It goes through many fits and stages,
You can’t imagine the myriad of gazes!
I have curls to a large degree.
They won’t listen to my plea.
My hair demands to be free.
My hair grows much faster than most
You can ask my friends, teachers or ghost
If it is in a mohawk by breakfast it is at my shoulders at noon
I can usually stand on my locks in the mid-afternoon
My hair does not normally or usually grow exactly the same
God has blessed me with an unfathomable growing-hair mane
Sometimes it is ginger, curly with a wink of chestnut
Cutting it off at the roots and you will hear them “tut-tut”.
They are in charge of what my hair next will be.
Sometimes it is thin other times as thick as a fat chickadee
One time it grew straight and coarse like a horse’s tail
It was so long I stepped on it going out to get the mail
My locks are all woven into mats for the cat orphanage
I hear that when they get scroungy, they feed them to their pig
His name is Wilbur and he gets excited when he sees me arrive.
He has scarfed down mats made of my hair, I think ninety-five.
Don't make a difference, gender/sex
Strands of different textures
Styles so profound with variety
Stiff, sticky, tacky, wet, or dry
Products keep it tamed for styles
Wavy, curly, straight, stringy or locked
Red, blue, green, pink, purple, or rainbow
Color(s) bring a uniqueness to a hairstyle
Hair is just an extension from the crown of the head
Its our own way to express ourselves unapologetically
Start a new style from scratch
Add extensions for any new look
Shaved head; no need for styling
Hair can carry power or hold trauma
No matter style of your crown, you matter
Only you can decide what works for you
Always remember your are amazing and beautiful with or with hair.
Oh circular scrunchie
How are you ?
You have been tangled up in women’s hair
For far too long
Scratching the long curly beads
Of millions of youngish females worldwide
For decades now
Connecting brunettes blondes and redheads alike
Protecting the very fabric of femininity
Women’s scalps
Oh bless you oh scrunchie
You are a true survivor
A true victor
Worthy of many accolades
A symbol of strong women everywhere
No more need for Bobby pins
Ponytails are a thing of the past
Long live the scrunchie!
Hair today and here tomorrow!
painted finger nails
red ribbons in curly hair
dog grooming with flare
She's magisterial material
Though she's not on a box of cereal
'Tomorrow' she's sung
Her curly locks stun
Annie Oakley (Cortez) ~ imperial
Drowning in my own existence
Hating life
But the ultimate passion
I had to have
No, I am not the problem
I won’t let you take my breath away
I grabbed a rock and hit your face
Gasping for air
I ran away
But you chased me
Huffing and puffing
You chased me
I hid behind a tree
Digging for my keys
Pepper spray
Extra spicy
I sprayed you
When you caught up
I kicked you between the legs
I grabbed a branch
I took a stab at you
Then I escaped
Seeing you the next day in school
Was a bit creepy
Seeing you in the drive way
Outside my window
Bothered me
Seeing you staring
Not saying a word
When the cheerleaders
Flirt, lifting their skirts
You always seemed
To be watching me
Until one day
A month later
I had no partner in chemistry class
But you sat next to me
You helped me
We laughed
We passed
You walked me home
My mother let you in
She never cooks
But she cooked for you
I cleared the table
You did the dishes
I went outside
You grin
I kissed your lips
Sliding my fingers through your curly hair
Then a loud truck pulls up
My dad was home.
Once again
my partner didn’t do their part
In science lab
I was alone again
But you took his place
You were smart
You were handsome
You got me the “A”
You walked me home
I never get out
But you convinced my mom
Somehow
The next day
You said you wouldn’t have me out late
So I was excited
I waved goodbye
Then later on
After a day at the park
We took a short cut
Then that’s when I thought
We were lost but no
You knew exactly where to go
Hitting me in the back of the head
Dragging me to the stream
Holding my head under water
Just to bring me up
Before my skull
began to bleed
Into my eyes
I stared at your perfect tan skin
Your brown eyes
I looked closely at the tattoo
On your neck
How those birds did fly
The beautiful hair on your head
As you dipped me back into the water
I thought about moms meatloaf
It was so damn dry
I thought about my brother, Mark
My dead beat dad
And the creak on my bedroom floor
I missed it all I suppose
Maybe this is the end for me
Who knows
Slick it down with wax
It fits a crook
Tho' it could also be
a circus-master's look
Let it grow long, wooly and wild
It's an over-age, curly-haired child's
Squish it together into three teen males' little nubs
Presto! -- a psychotic 'student rifle club'
Eliminate its last faint trace
A dapper gent your life has just graced
A moustache is versatile, you will agree
be it 'barbershop-quartet-ish' or a deep mystery
Author Dana Redricks
May 9, 2023
Our hair, so beautiful and unique, a treasure to cherish, it's yours to keep.
Black and gray, it shines and glimmers, its texture, its strength, all of its features.
Embrace your natural beauty, love your hair,
Whether curly, straight, thick, or thin, it's rare.
Don't be ashamed, don't let them knock you down, for your hair is divine, and it deserves your crown. So, wear it proudly, let it flow and sway, never be ashamed to let it show for it's a part of you that should never be hidden. Love the hair that you have been given, for it's a gift from above that you have been given.
Anna Alpaca is a sight.
with long, long legs and long, long neck.
She’s almost as tall as a kite!
I lean in to give her a peck
and when I am too close she spits
to let me know to go away.
She’s not rude, it’s just how she gets.
It is her way of saying “Nay!”
Showing elegance and true grace
in her chic shabby rose gray coat,
In my heart she has found a place.
I wish she fit in my pink tote!
She could model on a runway,
she’s such a nice little cutie!
If you are good and let her play,
she might be your sweet patootie!
She softly hums among the grass
listening with long pointy ears
for angry threats that might harass.
She sounds alarm if danger nears!
Her curly hair and big brown eyes
are deeply soft and sweet to see.
She should win a special top prize
for being perfectly lovely.
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!
When I was growing up, the child I used to be
awakened every morning by the smell of his coffee.
Mami would make some breakfast
a bowl of cereal would do.
She claimed that it would make us strong
and help with grades in school.
We would hurry to be dressed
before we were told twice.
The morning ritual would always begin
with Papi and his coffee.
We would sit very still daring not to move,
as he plastered our hair with some Dixie Peach.
He combed every strand of our long curly hair,
before pulling it back as straight as could be.
In a pony or pig tail and tight as it could be
For as long as I remember, I will always miss you see
The time that Papi combed my hair
When a child I used to be.