Long Bald headed Poems
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Chorus
Banks! Banks! Let us all do away with banks
And their dirty tricks and their silly pranks
Banks! Banks! They mean very little to me
If I was the king all banks will be history
If I was the king all banks will be history
If I was the king all banks will be history
Verse One
Banks are stingy
Banks are greedy
They steal from the needy
Banks never give but they love to take
If your friend is a bank
He will rob you before you wake
Only fools bail out the banks
Because I will rather take my money
They sold me worthless shares when my day was sunny
With the hope that one day I will lick from the bank’s honey
Now my day is rainy and I don’t think it is funny
I would never buy those shares I rather buy an Easter bunny
Only foolish kings bail out the banks
I rather bail out a pauper
The economy is going bad
While my people are left to suffer
Beware of the banks and the evil that they do
Today it is me but tomorrow it may be you
Chorus
Banks! Banks! Let us all do away with banks
And their dirty tricks and their silly pranks
Banks! Banks! They mean very little to me
If I was the king all banks will be history
If I was the king all banks will be history
If I was the king all banks will be history
Verse Two
Bank! Banks! They can never be your friend
Today they are collecting your money
But you are broke
They say see you later Sunny
Beware! Beware! Beware!
When a bank tells you sign here
They will take everything you have
Including your underwear
Is it your bit of filthy magic?
To trade with a bank may be tragic
Shrewd little goldsmith demanding for gold
And any item of value
Or anything he could see or hold
Bald headed money lenders demanding for a pound of flesh
You can take the meat from his cheek
But remember that no blood must spill
Banks don’t care they will rather kill
Take off his damn head off with a sharp edged steel
Deducting money from my account bill bill bill
Banks are the biggest thieves because the love to steal
Banks destroy the economy and they never heal
Banks will charge you money for a rotten potato peel
Banks! I hate banks!
They say can I borrow you some money
I say no thanks
Banks! Banks! Let us all do away with banks
And their dirty tricks and their silly pranks
Banks! Banks! They mean very little to me
If I was the king all banks will be history
If I was the king all banks will be history
If I was the king all banks will be in misery
My Pa warn't much for music,
Not like ya hear today.
Them tune he learnt and taught me,
Were from a bygone day.
But Saturday nights were special;
At least they were to me.
Cause that was when we'd play them songs
I learnt at Daddy's knee.
Bald headed as a cue ball,
A grin from ear to ear.
He'd hum and play, and out would come
That music I'd revere.
He'd plunk his old five-stringer,
I'd make my old blues harp sing.
Ole Blue would start a-howling,
Till you couldn?t hear a thing.
Then Ma sung "Rock of Ages"
Her voice was pure delight.
The cats and dogs got terrorized,
And ran off into the night.
We'd continue our commotion,
Then really harmonize.
You knew the blend was perfect,
'Cause there'd be tears in Papa's eye.
Them old songs, sad and poignant,
Would soak you to the bone.
You could hear an old train whistle,
Or feel the chain gang moan.
Stooped right there with the slave man,
As he toiled out in the sun.
Or I'd sense the wild Missouri,
Watch it ripple, see it run.
We'd walk streets of Laredo,
A poor cowboy in the dirt,
His last request while dying,
With blood caked on his shirt.
Special words and music,
At least they were to me.
Sad old songs, just known to us,
Learnt there at Daddy's knee.
Well, Pa's been gone for ages,
Though it seems like yesterday,
When we would play together,
The world would flow away.
There's night your mind just wanders back,
On how it used to be.
So long ago, in simple times,
And the music at his knee.
I'll grasp my old harmonica,
Now cracked and full of rust.
Then squeak and squawk a couple notes,
And soon there's only us.
Out'a nowhere comes the fragrance
Of heady mountain dew.
Smoke rolling in an old wood stove,
As it dances up the flue.
As I fall back to Laredo,
The chain gang hammers ring,
I Taste dust from Georgia cotton fields,
As my harp begins to sing.
And then I hear his banjo,
I sense his presence near,
Oh God, I loved this music,
That only I can hear.
While in my head we're playing
And truly harmonize.
It must be close to perfect,
Tears mist my weathered eyes.
Again, we play together,
Just like it used to be.
For only I now know the songs
I learned at Daddy's knee....
Ron desperately wanted to have a girlfriend
He’d looked after his old mum right till the end
Ron was a tall and extremely attractive guy
Unfortunately poor Ron was so terribly shy
He saw a poster in a window for a single’s night
There’d be lots of ladies, it seemed just right
He phoned the organiser, her name was Eva
She’d greet him at the door; he couldn’t wait to meet her
Eva smiled when she saw Ron’s handsome face
with her skin-tight dress he baulked at her embrace
Her huge breasts looked like two bald headed men
He extracted himself; so he could breathe again!
Tables for two were set up around the room
Scented candles gave off a lovely perfume
Ron sat down at a table in search of a date
Would he be lucky and meet his soul mate?
Big Beryl sat down; she had such bad halitosis
She covered her mouth hoping Ron wouldn’t notice
The moment she spoke poor Ron got a foul blast
When their time was up; Ron moved seats - fast!
Then next he met Ann; she was obsessed with her pussy
He would only eat Whiskas; her Tom was ever so fussy
But any hope of romance they had to defer
As Ron had an allergy to animal fur
Butch Bertha said she preferred women to guys
Ron thought it a pity as she had such lovely eyes
Her mother had forced her to go out that night
They both agreed a date just wouldn’t be right
Mavis nervously sat down, she was painfully thin
From the smell of her breath, she’d been hitting the gin
She said she’d had a tipple to steady her nerves
And she’d got her hip flask if she needed reserves!
Ron began to think speed dating contrary
Then a beauty arrived, her name was Mary
Pretty in pink she stood out from the crowd
She was shy and demure and she wasn’t too loud
Ron hesitantly asked Mary if he could give her a call
And their very first date was at the local dance hall
At the end of the night they shared their first kiss
Now they’re happily married and life is just bliss
09-27-17
When fairy tales were in fashion, before true love was rare,
A prince wooed a maid who was flaxen and fair.
He came every day and patiently knelt
Before the dark tower wherein his love dwelt.
He'd call out, "Rapunzel, oh, show me you care,
And let down a ladder of your golden hair."
This scene re-enacted for forty long years,
His plaintive pleas ever falling upon unheeding ears.
But one winter's day, very bitter and cold,
The prince puzzled to fathom what his eyes did behold.
Overnight, it appeared, her hair came unbound
And the tresses lay scattered all over the ground.
As he gazed at those sad locks, his poor heart was torn,
Was his loved one now bald, her long hair shortly shorn?
Then the prince felt a chill shoot right down to his boots,
He perceived that the gold was quite black at the roots.
Suddenly down came a note in a filigreed cup,
"I can't hear the doorbell, so just come on up."
"Are you freaking kidding me?" he cried, quite beside himself.
"My perfect Rapunzel is bald-headed…and deaf?"
Much chagrined, he charged in, but the higher he climbed,
His ire waned at the prospect of the treasure he'd find.
He opined she'd be virtuous, angelic, demure,
But then he stopped dead in his tracks at the door.
The crone he encountered at the top of the stair
Was morbidly fat, and far, far from fair.
The prince blanched at the warts and stiff hairs on her chin,
As she lewdly, and nudely, gestured him in.
She lay draped on a bed wearing only a smile,
But a true prince is immune to lascivious wiles.
While most heroes in such tales are stalwart and stout,
This one raced to the casement and flung himself out.
As he plunged to his doom from that horrible room,
And ever nearer beneath him he watched the earth loom,
The prince yelled as he fell, shook his fist, and he cursed,
"Why the heck didn't I vet her on Angie's List first?"
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
SAT NAM
I am rose in sunlight breathing
Buddha in middle of balm bathing
beckoning my Heart leavening lively
I am a loop in Love cathedral of pure
passion where two beanpoles
dance dare devils deafening
I am wolf wandering in wild weather
finding a fabulous feathered feed
mesmerising messages of marvellous magic
I am darling dove in Dover
watching wedded buy woven wonders
my wings widen their purse-strings wonkily
I am ant anticipating bald-headed eagle
escorting a co-op car to labour ward
fetching mother and new bursting born
I am bardy breeze trying a tango
in coralled coloured church chinks
witnessing choristers sing new comely chords
I am quint quilt on forked farmyard fence
damp dough in toddler tweaks
forte fingers on trebled trumpet tumbling
I am sage steaming vapour soothing stomach
Salomon’s battle stoned and sprung
mirroring his victory on glass floors glimmering
I am tiger in Tibetan temple tempered
monks on my turf as they deserve
stroke my striking countenance smoothly
I am silhouetted stallion in South Sea surf
galloping my gay freedom song
whilst scientists girdle genomes googling
I am witch of weathered spirits
witnessing zigzag zaps down
lithe legs as learnings of latent timelines
I am grandpa goat gambling
another term of gum boot dancing
Lady Nada gifting a hymn for Beatles ballooning
I am Goddess of the Moon
inspiring mortals to seek
Sat Nam Sat Nam Sat Nam !
Saaaaat Naaaaaaammm…
©GhairoDanielsPoetry&Song
2008
Here's another story about Granny
I think she's probably done it all
This was way back during prohibition
When they outlawed alcohol
See, my granny was a moonshiner
This is about her very first still
She had to make sure no revenuers
Came snoopin' around her hill
So she set up fifty-one booby traps
Now It wasn't nothing too bad
But anyone caught snoopin' around
Would probably wish they never had
See, my granny was like Davy Crockett
She killed a bear when she was only three
Well, a limb fell and hit him on the head
While Granny was climbing up a tree
Anyway, back to the moonshine still
Granny made that still all by herself
With some things she found in the yard
And copper tubing she found on the shelf
Now my granny didn't make ordinary shine
Hers was something a little more special
See, she didn't put it in old clay jugs
This took a different kind of vessel
Now, Granny's shine was known world wide
They came from everywhere
They're were even a few bald headed guys
That swore that it made them grow hair
Now my granny's secret recipe, was one of a kind
I could tell you, but you would probably disappear
So it's better that I keep this secret a secret
Cause my granny has some real good ears
Then late one night, a revenuer came
He was fixin' to take my granny to jail
Til he stepped in one of her booby traps
And started screaming about the horrible smell
See my granny had put some skunk pee
Inside one of those booby traps
And when they stepped on one of her triggers
It squirted it all over their laps
Well, prohibition finally ended
They called Granny the "Moonshine Queen"
That little old lady never got caught
And was the richest moonshiner I've ever seen
FIFTY6FABELSOFCHARLAX
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CHARLAX
The Arizona Kidd
PART ONE
The Path Of The Wind
The Arizona Kidd hung up his spurs the day the tree split into crosses from the
lightning bolt surmising that his LORD was not well pleased with him that day
the Sherriff made his play. The Kidd wears a Jean Vest and spurs his boots are
always black and shiny his Hat is leather with a nickel band no feather his Indian
friends one day took his Rodeo hat and stuck a feather in it and laughed so now
he avoids his Indian friends. The Holsters on his web belt are reversed for his
quick draws the one on the left is his Silver plater hanggun. The holster on the
right has a Gold Plated thumb gun the trigger is tied back to shoot the bullits one
by one in a quick lethal manner he is shooting at the son of man to warn them to
be left alone at sunrise come. He used to use the silver bullits but the leaded
ones are nicer and the cost is so much cheaper and the Golden bullits on the
belt are costly and not cheep palaver is not his forte. Listen as this tale is
fabeled. He was drinking whiskey the Sherriff swore he would arrest him or die
with his boots on trying to uphold the lawman looked like he had never missed a
meal his bald headed visage in a grimace climbing up that hill to get a look down
on that killer's camped out near the tree was tall and filled with wormwood and
on that fatefull day the wind made a mourning noise and came near to watch the
Sheriffs' play with the Arizona Kidd. He could not see into the sun. This was the
Sherriff's thinking some people call it cheating.
There was an elusive little guy often espied during World War Two,
And who he was and whence he came no one ever really knew!
He was a bald headed little feller with a very prominent nose,
And he always left the message "Kilroy Was Here" in very stilted prose!
You seldom saw his eyes and his hands were clinging to a wall.
Many G.I.s saw him in latrine stalls and in their greasy dining hall!
His origin and parting message are debated to this very day,
And no one has ever nabbed the graffiti artists who always slunk away!
He was portrayed in cruisers, battleships and even on submarines!
Kilroy's portrait was tattooed on the chests of a few diehard Marines!
'Tis said Hitler saw "Kilroy Was Here" and wondered what it meant,
Thinking it a secret code when found on American accouterment!
Kilroy became as famous as the mysterious smile on the Mona Lisa.
(I even saw his mug when I climbed to the top of the Tower of Pisa!)
Rosie the Riveter may have been guilty, if the truth were told,
Of tracing Kilroy's image on bombers, including the bomb bay hold!
Well, 'tis for sure we couldn't have won the war without the little guy!
Kilroy's antics lifted morale at home and overseas, that you can't deny!
But you haven't seen the last of him, for he is forever etched in history,
On the World War Two Monument in DC - how he got there is a mystery!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
For those a tad younger who may have never heard of Kilroy, go to your search
and type in "Kilroy Was Here" and click the Wikipedia notation and you will learn
more than you ever wanted to know about him!
Once upon a time, in Irving on day,
Sat Billy, Keith, and Sam the usual way,
Keith got a call, important I’d guess,
Doc said his kidney in a terrible mess,
Go to the hospital, ER check in,
Potassium too high, could be the END,
So off Keith went, hospital again,
Our buddy our pal, bald headed friend,
Previous to this, ‘bout a month ago,
Had a sore on his foot, next to big toe,
Diabetes you see no feelin’ there,
Carol was mad and pullin’ out her hair,
So off came the toe, on the left foot,
With gauze and tape, the doctor did put,
Time to go home, the patches come off,
So Carol removed one with touch so soft,
Keith said NO, ya gotta go fast,
Rip it off quick, ya don’t make it last,
So Carol grabbed one with sheepish grin,
Remember I’m mad as removal begin,
It came off quick and Carol was PLEASED,
Like combing out fast, hair that was teased,
Off came more with great satisfaction,
Revenge for Carol by Keith’s reaction,
The nurse was grinning’ a told ya so glare,
‘Nother patch removed, it took some hair,
Now this aint all, I do have some more,
Keith in his recliner feet off the floor,
His head was shakin’, his leg did quiver,
His body movin’ like a ragin’ river,
Michael in awe, a dropped jaw look,
Carol speechless, as the whole room shook,
Then Keith did laugh a gotcha for sure,
Satisfaction sweet, motivation pure,
Not real funny, Carol sharply retorted,
It’s how I heard it as Keith reported.