Long Bald headed Poems

Long Bald headed Poems. Below are the most popular long Bald headed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bald headed poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member An Old Man Slams the Slams - Throws Down the Gauntlet To the Punk Man

slam it to me punk you think you’re so cool
this bald headed old fart will take you to school
you think you’re the first generation to revolt
if you read a history book you’d know that’s a joke
yes that’s a joke
go ahead punk – take a poke

hell i was sitting down in a war protest strike
while guardsmen flexed their muscles and sticks of the night
don’t talk to me about your troubled young fate
until you’ve been through a night like at Kent State
people died there
shot by the man
four college kids killed right where they stand

go ahead shout, curse and be rude
show me your underwear and your attitude
pretend you’re real mean and ain’t scared a nuthin
brag like you think you can beat out my stuffin

i’m an old fart of fifty plus years
i’ve already shed an ocean of tears
i aint got nothing much left to loose
which is what makes me much more dangerous than yous
pain ain’t nothin when you’ve had a rectal exam
you think you can scare me more than the doctor can?
think again 
young man
i’ll slam your slam

this ain’t writing 
it ain’t exciting
its simply yelling and telling lies of being tough
it ain’t enough
now go write some good stuff

you think this stuff makes you a hero
you think it ain’t conforming to norms?  
you’re a real zero
you aint the first
heck you might be the worst
you are just replicating 
duplicating
other punks beat you to it
now write a sonnet – if you can do it
you’d be the only punk out on that island
that would make you brave
make you stand out
give you some clout

if you could do it
but you can’t can you
instead you say you’re one of a kind
don’t waste my mind
you think I’m blind
i’ve seen it before
you’re just a slam whore
easy to ignore

i’ll slam your slam
now go jam my jam
© Joe Flach  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Twos

I vented the wooden nickel, racing down the highway going to fat couldn't pack;
Eating linoleum flavoured kitchen tea towels cat ridden rodents just got carjacked;
The anchor washed the clothes of the drummer in beat;
While nasty peroxide infinite infiltration spread across the heavens
Also back on them streets
For air aged  wooded bleachers and plastic tic-tocks;
How often do the sheep sleep in caves;
Master Rhymer must be rhyming;
Cause! Factor factions decision made divided by bald headed lambs;
Can cottonwood be more than a tree;
As the flights of the washing machine;
Irons out the wrinkled mountain;
The way of flabbergasted ??
Form: Couplet

Life Begins At Forty

UUUUUHhhhhh!!!!!
I woke up this morning to find I am bald,
Wear glasses and only 5foot 7 tall.
Me bodies out of shape and what is more,
Me bits are all shrivelled, scaly and small.

Who the hell says life begins at forty,
I’m a blind, toothless bald headed shorty.
Which woman is going to throw themselves at me,
She will have to be blond and rely on a dog to see.

I walk up the stairs and stop half way, 
Me hearts pumping mad saying “lets call it a day.”
Me **** started making these terrible smelly sounds,
And parts of me body are having a race, the first to touch the ground.

I now need Viagra to turn me into a yup
Or scaffolding under to prop me bits up
Foreplay is leave me teeth in the glass
The climax of me sex life is squeezing a pimple on me ass


Oh youth where art thou,
You left me in a mess.
I look in the mirror and cuss with every breath,
I’ve turned into an obese belch farting sow.
And they say life begins at forty, with a body like this tell me how? 

** It has been brought to my attention that I should not have used "blond" so if you are blond please change it in your mind to blind, thank you :-)
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member I Wandered Lonely As a Tramp

"I wandered lonely as a cloud"--- By William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a tramp, 
Far, far away from all human habitats
Away from all prying eyes
Following the bent
Of my vagrant inclination; 
Into Nature’s sylvan pockets
To places studded with trees
To the tranquil bosom of the woods
Onto the heights of bald headed hills
Where shrubs struggle to strike root
From the cleft of rocks and ledges
Where in hollows, wild bushes grow in clusters

To watch the shreds of hovering mist
To gaze upon piles of sailing clouds
To shout loud and whistle long
And to listen to the hills
Mimicking my own sound

There I will hop and jump, 
Like a sprightly forest fawn, 
As I don’t fear
Either the silently gliding streams, 
Or the clump of swaying trees, 
The host of wild flowers, 
Or the monstrous mossy rocks, 
Either the birds or the beasts

Never will they watch my cranky pranks
And call me a loony
As here my own men might do! 

September 19, 2022 

Written for the contest, I Wandered Lonely As _ Challenge 
Sponsor, Natasha L Scragg
Judged on 9/24/2022

The Vulture

THE VULTURE
Scavenging wretch!
With a long neck 
And a stinking breath
Feeding on carcasses of the dead
Bald headed crook with eyes that are red
Eating the putrefied worms of the barren Islands
He roams through the plains of the rich brown highlands
Glides beyond the horizon
When the waves start rising
Like a rocket he flees
Above the deep blue seas
No comfort for him in Antarctica or Australia
Never falls sick or susceptible to malaria
And flies through the sky
In search of a feast when nature do call
Thief of the thieves
Who never plays ball
Greedy funny fellow
 Thin and tall
Never gives only gets 
Never forgives and never forgets
Only cheats
Cannot be cheated
Never stands when he is seated
Deception is your perception of life
Traitor!
Stabs Caesar in back with a knife
Hypocrites that serve only time and riches
And will slip and fall in hell like ditches
Lurks behind the corridors of power
Insincere and avarious
Economic adventurer who plans by the hour
Money, money, money
He can never get enough
Cowardly fellow who always acts tough
He never attacks the healthy and robust
But will kill the sick
And eat his intestines with his big red beak
Form: Narrative


Premium Member Bigotry Is Ignorance

Bigotry is ignorance 
Bigotry is not meeting but maybe one person in a certain category.
Bigotry is categorizing all people into the same box 
based on crazy things
like religion, the color of their skin,
even their hair color if you truly get down to it.
How many times have you heard:
all blondes are dumb? All old people are senile? All bald headed men are virile?

Bigotry is no here near pure and simple
It is also not totally absolute or self-assured.
I was once told by Matt who was a racist against Polish people,
“My sister could never marry a Pole.”
I asked “What if the Polish man was super nice?”
It would not matter.
“What if the Polish man was kind to the entire family?”
I would not care.

I got serious now.
This is America after all. 
I asked him, “What if the Polish man was rich?”
Here is where things changed.
“How rich?”
“Rich enough to buy you a new car so you would change your mind about him.”
“That would be different, he said,” no bigot at all, when it came to money.

Quasi Contractious

it was odd
strange
kinda unlike what
you'd expect
they sat and ate
sushi, and dirty-rice
while listening to
polka
wearing blue jeans
and those pinkish purplish
elastic like vests.
they wore black cowboy boots
and these cool looking
 native headdress's
they discussed management styles
and new and gifted prospects
they were offering their service
and expertise to those
who wished to be greater
those who lacked that
certain appeal
they humbled themselves
and sat their
eating and drinking
in this place
in the distant-boonie unreal.
to create a reputation
and have a lean trust
to make what had been complicated
easier with someone they
could trust.
Allying to have managerist
assitance
leaning on ever lasting arms
they tossed to new
begannings
one took up
a tuba and played a song.

they looked thru the window
it offered glances and curtained
appearances
only those on either side
knew what was going on.
don't let the jerk
in the netted shirt here you
he might have contact
with the media
we heard from our table
those swollen muscled up hippies
wore glasses to hide their face.
the bald headed freak begged the
other guy to be his manager or something
I wanna see how this plays out.
Monster storm abrewing
we better get home!
Form: Ballad

Premium Member My Minnie Thimble

I’ll tie my metal 
thimble of Minnie
on the metal chain
next to the bronze 
scissor charm

the two charms 
can share the space 
on my costume jewelry

we didn’t share 
our bed last night
you slept on the couch 
instead 

my friend gave me $20
yesterday 
I cried with gratitude
I love you 
but I came home 
and yelled at you 
instead 

not every night 
ends with a kiss, 
a shared bed, 
and an exchange 
of equal 
“I love you’s”

and I won’t 
force a rhyme 
when there isn’t one 

I actually slept well

but I dreamed
that I was lost
and broke
and wandering through
a city slum 
full of dirty water

dangerous strangers 
offering me beds 
getting sick 
when they sip 
the reflecting water

crowded hotels
of lost people
and beautiful books
for sale

a brown city
surrounded by boats
leaving this muddy 
circling nightmare 
and heading out 
to a cleaner sea

no directions
for little girl; me

I never found 
my bald-headed husband 
in the angry, greedy 
crowd

we are not 
Walt Disney
we are not 
Mickey and Minnie

their love is
an epic fiction

you and I 
are not cartoons
and sometimes
it isn’t funny,
cute, colorful, 
or clean
© CC Bloom  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Fred Froogle Put Your Footle Out Your Mouth

PUT YOUR FOOTLE OUT YOUR MOUTH


                                    Here's Fred Froogle
                                        Bald headed
                                     Wears eyeglasses
                                  He used to wear boots
                                        Feet itch so
                                 Soaks feet in toilet bowl
                       Sprinkles talcum powder on his nose
                                  Drinks hot Coca Cola
                                     Sucks his heal
                           Spits out his foot before a meal
                                 Foot kiss ashy nights
                         Walks on shredded broken glass
                           Swollen breath toe jam dress
                                   Spitting toe nails
                                 Choking on my heals
                                Can't walk foot caught

                             Put your foot out your mouth

3/2/18
Written Words by James Edward Lee ©2018

Premium Member X Men

Stranger things beacon
 these young teen agers
when a bald-headed
professor
saw them individually-telekelically

a girl a Marvel girl
she could perform miracles
can read minds nothing can be hidden
from this red head beauty
 
next,...

a cool tween miss guided a little mean
pick on lonely so he spend his youth
frozen, he couldn't be nice
so he was iced, a Iceman

next...

kinda athletic 
sort of pathetic
funny somewhat elongated big hands
big feet
Hank the hairy Beast

next...

a hot head or should I say
He has an EYE
for destruction he had better not look at ya
Cyclops

next last but not endangered
Rich boy at least his parents are
His name he goes by is Angel
The wings on his back, shedding sometimes feathers in his lap

These teens are strange yes
Gathered together being trained in the  DANGER ROOM by
Professor  X
mutants in kind
Beyond humans my oh my
Together teen mesh
these are

 the
XMEN

11/04/17
WRITTEN BY James Edward Lee Sr. POETMAN  -->X MAN

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