Everybody's trying to be nice
By treating everybody
The same
We don't put anybody down
That is not right
That will only upset
Then
We don't want to see
Than getting upset
We all need to speak up
When somebody hurt us
Also we need to respect each other's
Race
And religion
Some of us are black
Other's are white
We have our style of clothes
That we have chosen to wear
We all have our own hair style
Some people wear there hair long
Others wear it short
None of us are rich
We are very poor
When it comes to money
As a kid my hair was a very easy fix,
just pull it back with a rubber band into a ponytail.
As a teen a ponytail was not going to work,
off to the hair shop with picture in hand.
I sat in the chair and said,
I want to look like this picture.
I sat dreaming about my great new hair style,
as I looked in their mirror I was horrified.
I did not look like the picture I showed them,
what had happened to my head of hair.
I will fix the professionals,
next hair cut was on me.
That is when I started to cut my hair,
I still laugh when I get asked -
can they have my hairdresser's information.
I have found some great new friends,
hats in all sizes - styles and colors.
having a bee in
one’s bonnet ~ is to be wrapped
up in obsessed with
the honey trap ~ is
an attractive or handsome
looks woos your fondness
the bee's knee's ~ is
something new like an iPhone
or your shoes hair style
the birds and the bees
~ birds do it bees do it and
smart-as-heck fleas SEX (Cole Porter's is:
educated/smart-as-heck
used to fit in the point--
SEX)
what's meant float like a
butterfly sting like a bee
~ life perseverance
My gran doesn’t ‘get’ this woke society
I told her that there’s a new sobriety
We went for a walk to see what we would see
And show her we all can be what we will be
Men can be women and girls can be boys
And most men in showbiz have that certain poise
I’ve seen a guy wearing a little black dress
And people whose gender is something to guess
But live and let live is the latest doctrine
Though sometimes I wouldn’t know where to begin
Someone approached us in pink dungarees
And Doc Marten boots and a beard to ‘their’ knees
With glitter mascara, diamanté tiara
A dog tag that said nothing more than ‘Tamara’
‘Their’ Mohican hair style was quite a strange sight
Twas dyed rainbow colours and went left to right
I tried not to notice ‘their’ tightly strapped breasts
But bits were protruding from her (their) string vest
In an unguarded moment I said, “Evening Miss.”
He/she/it/they gawped and said, “That’s remiss.”
I told he/she/it/they, “I’m not of this age
So don’t take offence, please don’t get in a rage.”
‘They’ strode off and snarled like a pantomime cat
And my little old gran said, “What The F*** Was That?”
Britney Greiner Horn Haiku
was an unfair trial
she has started new hair style
nail polish and file
return intention
happy again must mention
brought to our attention
above all she stood
head was covered with a hood
suffering withstood
she has much appeal
fine food will be here next meal
prayed when she did kneel.
would see white snowflake
on Native Soul breath did take
happy again make
Security leaked some private files
Of a cross dresser brand new hair style
He got popular, you see
His files spilled the tea
So, he unveiled himself with a big smile
Ka’mayia gives off the air of
Well giving off an air
Self-confidence personified,
in the form of a gorgeous caramel body
Her skin flashes with beauty,
but those eyes, oh, my, those eyes.
They are chocolate all-knowing orbs.
She has the knowledge of the masters.
Ka’mayia is an empath, so sensitive
that she has had to build walls, so shut out the hurt ones
For when they hurt, she hurts, but more painfully so.
She has love for everyone, and can feel their pain.
I note that her latest hair style reflects Medusa,
a great idea, she thought, hoping to keep strangers away.
It does not work. People are drawn to this beautiful African queen.
They tell her of their woes, their worries, their life.
She cannot go to a restaurant without pulling the entire back story
out of the waitresses, and the bartender.
And he is trained to listen! But not when she looks into his eyes.
She is an empath, and walls do not work for her. She cares too much.
Keep all in your lap or clench all
I'll not go to snatch your aristocratic mall
The elegant dressing up,
The sky scraper building,
The limousine car,
The hair style,
The beard style,
The shoe
For your food I don't wanna to be your foe!
But leave me on my righteous five rights
Food, Cloth, Residence, Treatment & Education
I don't wanna to live in your so called civilization!
-April 27,2018 Chattogram
Just me and my granddaughters, two sweet cute tweens
eating up pizza. It’s “No-night” for greens!
I tell them old stories about family.
Their own funny stories they tell back to me.
They’ve brought a nail file. One files my nails
while I tell more stories with juicy details!
We play on the internet for a short while
then chat about things like our favorite hair style.
It’s now after ten, but tonight is for fun.
No going to bed till well after one!
We pick out a series on Netflix to watch.
At last we discover one that is top-notch.
I with my popcorn and they with ice-cream -
we’re living it up while living the dream!
Oct. 12, 2019 for the contest of Line Gauthier: Living the Dream
She who appreciates the little things
The effortless gifts that life can bring
She who sees beauty in a stranger’s smile
A hand written letter
a fresh hair style
Her dreams of travelling
still just desires
Through her journey of life she has done what’s required
She who deserves a whole lot more
Could loose hours in an old book store
But there never seems time to just be her
Each whirlwind day passes as a blur
Yet she still takes delight in sand between toes
A Green light at crossings
Fresh Footprints on snow
has no idea of the lives she has touched
To many she has been a crutch
She who has wished a thousand wishes
But finds gratitude from her grandchild’s kisses
Inside I’m aware she’s fighting her tears
Saved up from many lonely years
Thinking nobody really sees her at all
“ Have I ever been free ?” She cannot recall
But I can hear her silent sorrow
And vow to brighten her tomorrows
Because I can see there’s so much more
Locked behind her guarded door
ODE TO A FAN
My fan blows beautiful air,
that minutes ago, wasn’t there.
It begins to circulate wind that was dead,
given it a purpose of living, not dying instead.
It can blow you a new hair style.
It can blow really hard, or extra mild.
Windmills of plastic go round and round,
creating a symphony of wind and sound.
The whir of motors and blades
remind me of a summer in the shade
Position it on the table or on the floor.
Put it in a window, or by the screen door.
It can gently sway side to side
or focus on certain parts of your hide.
On hot days and cool,
for the wise and the fool.
Faithfully serving,
Always observing
You can run it for days,
and it will not whine.
Or get a quickie
if you don’t have the time.
It doesn’t moan, belittle, or complain.
It works day or night, sunshine and rain.
I love my fan, and you know why?
It takes me to a place that passed me by.
6/2013
He's Blind
Love comes when you least expect
hair looking like its own private wreck
piece of lettuce caught between front teeth
ketchup on the face-- like a Christmas wreath
you get the picture...an utter mess
nothing like trying not to impress
Just then--in comes the guy, the one
if he looks at my face, I am done
he strolls over and asks if I need help
trying to answer, I let out a little yelp
he looks me over and says you look so cute
I think to myself this just doesn't compute
The cool guy gets nervous
I ask him to sit trying not to make a fuss
his voice shakes...he asks
date ----well, let's just say I said yes
I would have dragged myself there, I confess
where are we going to go
he said he didn't know
The guy hasn't just lost his mind
now I know he's also blind
later he told me not to wear makeup
that's not happening, unless I am in the lockup
loved my hair style--I hope that pimple doesn't erupt
You think its love
that it was sent from above
Boy, what a rush
nothing like a high school crush!
As I wrote my poem throughout the day,
I saw a Beautiful girl there reading
I walked up to her so i can say hey,
She looks up and now i have this feeling.
Her voice is so sweet and her eyes are blue,
And she has a dark brown curly hair style.
She said"Hello" and then " Nice to meet you",
But then i got lost when she did that smile.
We talk and talk until the sun goes down,
And stared at the sky as the stars comes up.
She holds my hand as she started to frown,
And that's how i know when my time is up
But the love story will never end here,
Because what you feel will never disappear.
He gazes upon gracious beauty
perform my ripe flower, my willow,
for him only, who pays, do your duty
dressed in your kimono of wild indigo,
play your melodic tunes, dance, sing,
while he survey's divine innocence
as seductive pleasurable tones bring
lustful thoughts, holding him in suspense,
desire heightens, he peruses your face
ruby red lips, masked white skin
eyes of darkest night, with stylish grace
You glide across, pleasure to begin,
you serve him with such affection,
dignified, delicately choreographed
routine, giving all without exception,
beautiful Geisha of pleasurable craft,
oh my beautiful Japanese courtesan,
your immaculate shimada hair style,
you have made him a very happy man
with artistry If only for a little while.
Sometimes I meet people not even meeting them
When I like what they say
And then I really feel there are things above poetry
Which I love with my honest heart
I will be checking for spelling, grammar, hair style, and regular flossing
Mostly I do it all the time as I love good word but also good
Look
at
My poetry
27.08.2016
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