Short Hair Poems | Examples
These Short Hair poems are examples of Hair poems about Short. These are the best examples of Hair Short poems written by international poets.
I wear a hat because I've lost my hair
Folk would laugh out loud at my head so bare
Long ago my hair was thick and wavy
It was the colour of mother's gravy.
Her gravy was dark as the lumps of coal
She would light a fire with, when it was cold
If short of cash, then us kids had to sit
In the disastrous sweaters she would knit.
Often they’d be too clingy or too large
Though knitted with love for those in her charge
Mother said if we were cosy and warm
It did not matter at all what was worn.
The years have passed by, hair has disappeared
The worst of it is, it's cold on the ears
But my mother, bless her, before she left
Knitted a draw full of hats, socks and vests.
Lovely, happy hair,
Rowed, and growing in beauty;
God’s sweet locks I bear:-
Hued as is the night,
Moonlight beauty reflecting
Ebony delight:-
Locks admired so much,
Gardened rowed short or shouldered,
Just got to be touched.
God makes no mistakes;
Creating natured beauty,
Whatever hue takes:-
Mirror check and see,
The blooming beauty of thee,
And gracefully be:-
My hair is a whimsical canvas my crown
It’s so versatile pinned up or flowing down
An expression of my natural creativity
Hair is a blessing of my femininity
Sometimes I let the pillow style it
Go with the flow wearing my wild wit
In this way my hair is a cocoa cloud
All soft and fluffy unruly truly proud
Sometimes the rain puffs it up
I don’t complain I just embrace love
If I wear a natural Afro style
Or twists with bliss will make me smile
I can never go wrong with braids
Long or short the patterns make waves
Take it down and enjoy it anew
Crinkled and wrinkled my hair is the truth
Even if I have had bad hair days
Can cut it short or even shave
Hair is an expression when I’m feeling chatty
Fine like vine thick like brick stringy or nappy
Beware of the men in bald, they say.
You’ll see them everywhere.
They come in sizes, tall and short,
upon their heads, no hair.
The bald men come in thin, they say.
They also come in fat.
Their heads are found upon their necks,
often, underneath a hat.
It is much better, people say,
to have hair upon your head.
It doesn’t matter, the color,
be it blonde or black or red.
But, if your head grew grass instead,
they’d say you ought to mow it,
and water it so it won’t fall out.
That’s what they’d say, I know it.
Now let me tell you something, son,
about the bald men you will see.
Some of them are not so bad,
like my father, his father, and me.
Mighty Mercury
Alert then aloof, snuggly warm then colder
His rangy legs spring to hitch a ride on our shoulder
Lifting our hearts to elation
He’s our portable vacation
We cherish Mercury more each day we grow older
I picked posies as I walked on by,
removing my red hair ribbon to tie.
My life is sometimes tranquility ...
By morning the flowers had withered,
I felt a sadness deep within my soul.
My life is sometimes regret ...
Farewell flowers short was your time,
I should have left you in the field.
My life is sometimes grief ...
I carried you all withered to the garden,
and lay you tied in my ribbon to repose.
My life is sometimes serenity ...
Stark naked, Sue walks down her stairs
Huge boobies dangle like ripe pears
Sue’s ‘hair’ stylist was lax
With her Brazilian wax
Short curlies remain, but who cares!
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05/15/23
No matter what you do
Your beauty will stay true
A radiance that stands out from the rest
With claret trellis on
So fair to gaze upon
Elegance and class in style of dress
And if your hair is short
I'm still here to report
Your splendor goes beyond what words can say
You're beyond the galaxy
In terms of what I see
You might not feel the same but that's okay
Under her arms
was a tangle of hair
It was quite easy
to get trapped in there
But thanks to the razor
the tweezers and laser
Drops of sweat now
love to betray her
Their igloos were short on insulation
Causing the Inuit consternation ~
Since the tops were all bare
They covered them with hair ~
Aha! Their 'Wigloos' were a sensation
I went to the barber’s today
I’d like a haircut if I may
Some new modern style?
He asked with a smile
I said comb both hairs the same way
Halfway through my life I changed my hair
from dark to light, which fits. My skin is fair!
I had it bleached, and I never knew what would
transpire eventually; it was not good!
One day I showered, and my hair stayed dry!
It crumbled in my fingers! I could cry.
I had to cut it short and grow it out.
New ways to change I had to think about.
My daughter is my hair stylist, and she
knows how important “color” is to me.
My roots are now half grey; I’m kind of old.
But I still love and want that look of gold.
An auburn hue she gives me with blonde streaks.
It stays that way a few months. Then grey peeks.
I’m also glad how long my hair has grown.
Often I return to Goldilocks Zone.
March 27, 2021
for Anthony Biaanco's Goldilocks Zone Contest
A poet may tear out his hair
if he truly does care
to follow every rule
they teach him in school
One foot too long, or one too short
can his finest ideas abort
And woe be it if an accent or two
fits not the traditional pattern
Let syllables be counted
stanzas too
Lest be committed
egregious boo-boos
So if a poet you know
has a full head of hair
He's either a rebel who dared ~
of of baldness he's scared
I can have short hair
Or I can have long.
I can color it or perm it
Nothing is wrong.
I comb it and brush it
It is soft as silk.
Sometimes I even
Wash it in milk.
I blow it dry
And curl it with heat.
To go to the hairdresser
Is such a treat.
Blonde or brown
Red or black.
My hair is thick
Flowing down my back.
Highlights and lowlights
Purple or blue.
What should I try
What will I do?
If you meet me in the forest tonight
We shall leap over those granite stones
Scaring the rabbits who live underneath
hiding their full tummies
We will snatch one out by the ears
and make short work of her
Terrifying her children
leaping over their bodies
to devour their mother
We shall be mighty
and fierce and show those
who ridicule us how dangerous wolves can be
When they reside in the bodies of old women
Now give me your most horrible awful terrible wolf howl
Let’s raise the hair of those who think we are invisible.
Let’s terrify their blood streams, and freeze them with fear.