Haircut Poems - Poems about Haircut

The New Cut

Every snip feels off.
I stare at my own hair.
The sides are sharp today.
The top does not feel right.

I run my fingers through.
It is different, maybe odd.
I pause, not sure I like it.
I hope it grows on me.

Maybe they will like it.
It could be a better look.
Could even catch some smiles.
The girls might notice too.

The mirror

haircut forces me into a hat

Grandma said she would take care of the kids now
I knew things were tight, gramps had run off with the cow
and a woman, but we were sworn to secrecy about that
Grandma took her anger out on us. Now I have to wear a hat

Son, You Need A Haircut: 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline

"A dressed day has disrobed into the depth of a drawer's nightstand." 

(Oh, how positively awesome that what can be sorted out in such an explanatory pattern that a difference would maketh a day.)

The muskiness slouches about to a point of apathetic stoppage, and even without looking over his shoulders, he indulges in an artless

Beard

I once sported a manly beard,
a beastly beard had I.
But then on the farm, at the crack of dawn,
while my lady cheered,
she chopped it off, and while the cows mockingly mooed,
I quietly cried.
And with that, a little something inside of me died.

I would venture to guess it was my manly pride.

She brushed and whispered into

Back Porch Haircuts

I let you cut my hair.
Whether you were doing well
Or about to make a fool
Of your only daughter
Completely irrelevant
As I focused on your
Darting nervous eyes
The wrinkles in the corners
Tightening with ever pass
Of those clunky barber scissors.
I realized you had no idea
What you were doing,
But I couldn’t bring myself
To pull away from hands
That grasp frantically at

Barbers Old and Young

I took my son to the barbers today, and I sat there and I thought about how it compared to when I was small,

All of the equipment is battery driven, but way back when it was scissors that were usually blunt,

The seat for a child was a plank of wood, but now they have a

The Haircut

As she waked through the door I could tell by the look in her eye
Exactly what she wanted and I would be the one to give it to her
Sitting her down I wrapped her firmly and released the golden locks
Which flowed like silk down her sides

My well-oiled tool stroked its way thru her thick mat

Haircut - Judges 16

It’s true, she didn’t ask me to do it.
But I could tell the first time we had dinner together,
When she mentioned the appointment with her stylist,
That she’d not be displeased if I made an appointment of my own.
I now look back and see that as a turning point in my life
No less disastrous than the

The Haircut

he sits
she cuts
hair once dark
like nights 
of passion shared
now white 
with streaks
and still she cuts
remembering
this once bold man
strong and full of challenge
mighty shoulders
arms that lifted her with ease
squeezed her breathless
brought her to her knees
with love
now flaccid weak 
balding gray 
this man she loves
so dearly 
fades away 
through her tears
she cuts 
remembering 
his loving touch 
with

King of the Jungle

King of the Jungle 

Queuing with my homies
Houdinis every one.
No sharpened  tongues, but scissors,
To calm the shaggy throng 

Not all blokes in this queue,
Despite lockdown's grooming blooper,
As I stand here and review,
Will contest my Bradley Cooper

Alas, Delilah wins. 
It's time to shave my greying locks
Hirsute-less head, Yul Brynner,
Now the look my ego rocks

Now a simple

My Mop

Barbershops all closed,

                                         a Covid nonessential.

         

Haircut

Before today, the last time
Was on February third.
I looked a mess; if you had seen me
You would have concurred.

For shorter hairdos need a trim
More often than the long.
That in-between length somehow looks
Just ultra flat-out wrong!

But now that my reflection, 
Which the mirror does display,
Looks a whole lot more familiar,
I must cover up the gray!

The Haircut

The Haircut
Written: by Miracle Man
5/16/2020

My hair is too long due to barbershops shutting,
I trim best I can but my hair sure needs cutting.
Today, on the street i stand silently waiting,
this one man barber shop now has me debating.
Gloves on, face masked, thinking is it worth my travail?
and my glasses start to fog each time i

Time For a Haircut

Flowing gray locks blown by the wind.
gives me a look of a hippy woman,
wearing bell-bottom jeans with a wide belt,
a big-collared shirt covered with a vest of felt.

Time for a haircut.

Hanging onto my hair length makes me feel
secure as I look at the mirror and realize that the
only things which changed are the color and

Old Man Haircut

Got a special “old man” haircut today
At 84, still got lots to comb and display
Gonna go on TV
Feeling free
A new star would emerge in the world of ballet

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