“She knows everything about everyone. That's why her hair is so big. It's full of secrets.”
~ Quote from ‘Mean Girls’ (2004)
Secrets in the locks of love
she knew everything true,
well, sort of,
as true as any gossip could bring.
Plastic rollers, as useless as her friends,
curled from her lips in hateful sprout
and spewed vile comments from her mouth.
She grabbed the secrets of others and shared them.
She didn’t mind her tangled ends belied her credibility.
Curling her mind around the struggle,
when all was said and ends began to fray,
it was she who brushed the cares away that day.
I remember my first impression of him,
He was always so very handsome.
I remember my second impression of him,
He always offers hosting a threesome.
I remember his long luscious locks of hair,
He looked so beautifully happy without care.
I remember him saying he shaved his hair,
He must look so handsome still, but unaware.
ah Coffeetop Locks
be the witch’s fox
a cunning you pair
in hand on the fringe
of village life wings
but inward at night
for her work
where you light
then quickly on hocks
ah Coffeetop Locks
Different keys
One suit only
For one true lock.
Too many keys
Too many locks
One master key.
A ruin lock
Can be repaired
By locksmith.
Scooped up,
Tied in the car.
No idea where I was going,
Or how far.
Pulled out,
Dumped in a chair.
Had finally arrived,
Still alive.
Momma said, " Hold still.
You're due for a haircut."
Held my breath,
Then turned blue.
What happen to my free will?
Comb approached in hand,
Scissors preparing to land.
Off came my locks,
Dumped on the floor.
Could feel the breeze,
As I ran for the door.
Momma said," Hold it right there!
Need to finish your hair."
Finish my hair?
With paint,
Or glitter?
A vast amount of locks gone.
Only induces me to carry on.
Out the door,
With half my hair very bare!
Daily, thawed car locks
Nightly, frost freeze them again
Never ending game!
She is a door creaking with the burden of secrets,
he, a latch turned halfway to the outside world.
Where she hides tempests, he guards stillness,
yet when they come together, there’s a wordless connection:
the unlocking of something hidden,
neither complete until the other shifts.
A canvas on beach
Beyond fortune's reach
Where ocean's opulence beseiges
The sand
That remains arid
Beneath my hand
I scribbled falsehoods
In sand of seashore
Washed away the waves
But I re-bore
The facade of sandalwood
With scentless core
I became the artist living in dreams
Suppressing the internal surreal screams
Praising the sun's loveless heat
Scorched scars linger but my fabrication's neat
Dusk broke, I anticipated gentle breeze
But the sun abandons me to freeze
I pushed away the ship meant for rescues
Succumbed to the charade upon demonic cues
A captive now of hollow laughters
The island stands on fragile rafters
Isle's canvas was built to swallow
A soul lost in its own hollow
Just another day of obstructions, heartless
souls, lack of communication on a daily. Obstructions
of gridlock. at a crossroad, at a crossroad, at a crossroad.
Around the corner cut across to abandonment, made a
left turn to mistrust swerved right to divorce while
approaching slander at a intersection. gotta find my way
back, gotta find my way back.
Should it be suggested the world seems to be so distorted?
trying to find one's way back, from these sign posts and
roadblocks and gridlocks.
I picked the ball lock
got them back
at least for the day
went outside….alone
performed some unsupervised
“manly” work.
They had that familiar feel
of old friends …
reuniting on the playground
dancing merrily to a shared rhythm.
Oh, the thrill of it!
The sashayed sway,
subtly drawing up
in a cold breeze,
the tightness of the
fight or flight tremor,
love’s memory
stiffening on the whim
of fancied fantasy.
DAMN!!!!
The grass is cut
hedges trimmed
thorny roses pruned
the smell of earth and sun and joy
unfiltered through a mask.
Just another day outside
With the boys.
John G. Lawless
©8/10/2021
The most Wonderful Thing that belongs
to us is our own mind.
Our brain is made of locks and keys.
Certain things, ingrained, will always
be there anyway.
No key required.
But a tragedy ensues when other
keys are misplaced.
Lost in a fog.
Keys that unlock memories of truth;
of our youth,
who we knew,
how we grew.
Jingling as a chain collar on a poor lost dog.
We should grieve for those who have
lost the keys
and the joy they may have known by
what memories can bring.
What a terrible destiny to go to the grave
without the thoughts
that bind us
to the Wonderful Thing.
After all these many years, I've still got much hair
Must thank Mom and Dad for bequeathing my share
Of gorgeous white locks
It totally rocks
Ladies clamour to check out my other wares
The combination
Locks
The drops that say
Today
Rain is in the forecast
And come what may
Can stay
The easy isn't
Answers
No lies the storys
True
With blue a backdrop
Waiting and clouds
That crowd
For you
I saw it simply
Simple
The hats and chaps
That clear
Ahead is no like
Answers
With roses
That show
Your dear
So tick the tock
And mean it
The stop like locks
Like clues
The news is free
Like always and
Mondays
Mean like lose
I Mean it
I have a
Hither
The morning
Cast it's shine
Like mine the meanings
Missing like locks
That's hard to find
So see me
Its a secret
I'll love you
When your gone
And song will play
Forever
And then its
Wrong
Like locks and
Leave it simple
Go here to find a
Clue
A combination
Of sorrow and
Tomorrow
Will say
Its true
Susie’s flowing blonde tresses
were her pride and joy
they shone like a halo above her head
and framed her delicate features
From the moment they met
her boyfriend called her Goldilocks
Five years after they married
cancer cruelly crept into their lives
Skilled surgeons removed her lump
but chemotherapy took its toll
and clumps of hair clung to her brush
They both sobbed bitterly
as her husband turned on the hair clippers
which buzzed across her scalp…
in the ultimate act of love
Goldilocks Zone Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Anthony Biaanco
04/11/21
She never kissed you
till she hated you
Her feelings deadly
—her motives dark
(Aldwyn: March, 2021)
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