Long Follicle Poems

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


Argh I Suffer the Plight of Bad Hair Year In One Day

just moments ago, i went online and tapped Google 
   if some miraculous spell 
   could be drawn out of thin air
cause (this house husband 

   feels a bit embarrassed to divulge), 
   but at present, 
   the will to live aye cannot bear
cuz  after an ample lather of soap and shampoo,

ah pronounced heady effect became immediately clear
where times gone by 
   (even as late as early January 
   tooth how sand and eighteen), 

   the strands clumped, glommed, and matted together 
   as sieve ma noggin got sat upon by a deer
no matter after shaking head banging fashion 
   (imagine rock stars of yore 

   whipping their wild locks) from ear to e'er
butta noah such dizzy inducing antics 
   resulted in absolutely no fluffiness, 
   hence my worse fear

(irrational?) yes, an obsession i.e. 
   thy hirsute outgrowth fixation dated back 
   tummy boyhood when cranky gear
and defective cogs somehow impacted 

   preoccupation concerning 
   every singular follicle fostering hair
strand, but during prepubescence, 
   this now grown man took a fancy 
   to this, that, or the other lad, 

   who sported a style envied yours truly, 
   hie wished said thatch tubby upon mine 
   ma lil oblate spheroid, 
   and pleaded (weathered and in vane) 

   with fate to make magically ap pear
this, tis minuscule wiggle room 
   to muster support from rear
guard, hook offer me wiggle room
 
   asthma body electric goes on a manic tear
precious seconds ticking closer 
   to the final count down where
this mwm might remain bed ridden 
   for an entire year.


Country Pubs

Bubbling babbling burbling banter from the bar..

Sup hush….memory lane trip...Proustian rush..pleasingly tickled. 

Plushly ebbed…spidery beer swirls webbed…lace whirls..grace dimpled dappled jar..

Perch...parched pagans besmirch..sip...druid fluid drip..Iris’s secular church..

Venerate yesteryear dips…commemorate Faustian fillips....teasingly pickled..

Smug treacle toned thatch rugs hugs sturdy slabs.. shrugs..

Tugs tussling tree torn trusses and trestles....

Trumpets tradition.. crisp crumpets in flames..sedition flickering..

Like sassy strumpets calling each other names…playfully bickering..

Remember the surreal cast….gayfully ethereal echoes..

Beacons blush in the embers of the past..

Classy pubs dripping with polished pewter.. parochial paraphernalia…ballsy brass...

Crepuscular charms.  splinters splicing smokey shadows..

Wafting whispers.. across tobacco tinted tainted times..

Whistles whetted..quaffing…quenching ...cavorting with crannies..

Carousing with nooks naked in timber flannelled panels..

Canoodling on fecund bulbous bales farm foraged.. freshly fashioned...

Flirtatious follicle flicks....gurgling guffaws, raffish rascals' whisky whimsy..
 
Courting curious covens..sporting prosecco cackle cacophonies.

As sons become dad..in turn perched with their lad..

Lady lawyer betwixt a pimpled tyro…local employer, bumpkin on the giro..
 
Museums of marvels.. hoodwink misplaced metaphors.. 

Laced with a house pour of moreish memories of before..

That without impunity the nub of a pub..

The bar.. a community hubbub hub..

Gracious Landladies…loquacious Landlords..

Sagacious stars...near and far..

We raise our jar.

For our home from home..

A public house..

Ta..

KL Cool Cat Rahul and Panto Pant

Rat a tat tat..from the off…doff my hat to that.. rare..great hair and flair pair…the cool cat and crazy cat..

Teasing twang…of the Pant and anti Pant thang..the genesis of a genius nemesis it brang..tomfoolery along with duelery schoolery.. pleasing tang of yin and yang..

Whole shebang rang of..sublime Pantomime..our hearts sang…pangs for the young gun in the gang to bare those fangs.. go bang..

His prime partner in crime…K L cool cat with the bat Rahul..skill.. old school rhyme..that first rate trait…so much time..plays it so late…the definition of chill pill..

Follicle oracle..bouffant penchant…..rock star locks…another dab..but never drab..not a spanker..devil may care to share.. smash and grab..like the fab Rishabh lab.. 

K L ..Indian banker and anchor..while our favourite clown wearing his crown and gown…even lying on the floor..running amok with stunning cunning..score with awe and round the clock shock..goes once more..downtown

Never understood why the red ball numbers encumbers.. as Rahul part of the seriously good with the wood brotherhood..

So why the hell…pray tell has K L..the silky sage..well..how can it be that he’s only 
Got a Test average of 33..the same as his age…the game’s stats don’t lie…then why…
Not a hall of fame name..as won’t deny..I spy a wry sly superfly guy..

Add or subtract…can’t detract…a matter of fact.. the impact..
Run splatter..fielders scatter…can’t shatter the Pant..Rahul batter pact
Bestowing a glowing showing… us rapt at every act…let’s flatter the rule 
Of old school KL cool Rahul and our favourite fool..
Dearly ranting gallivanting Panting madhatter..

Cos clearly opposites with the bat really do attract..

Conspicuous Lice

Some conspicuous lice met once or twice  
With white follicle mites who came out at night
And an upside down tick who did magic tricks
That entertained maggots who shared roasted haggis
With pole dancing worms who wriggled and squirmed
Under Chinese mosquitos munching burpy burritos
Chasing cobwebby crickets selling counterfeit tickets
To shows where no sensible grubs want to go
Warning churchgoing termites that these shows were a blight
On a class of weevil whose bite could be lethal
For marbleized moths drinking steaming Scotch broth
And sanitized beetles who had pins and needles
From sharing cold baths with nonsensical gnats
Watched by camp caterpillars strung out on painkillers
Sharing smokes with loud locusts who were very much focussed
On prostrate praying mantises with suspicious practices

Growing my hair down below my knees

Growing my hair down below my knees...

stimulated courtesy follicles,
where Coconut, Olive, Grapeseed,
Jojoba, Amla and Vitamin E oils
allowed, enabled,
and provided head start
germinating peach fuzz into brown strands
after Flaxseeds, Pumpkin seeds and Fenugreek
being sprinkled on my scalp
yielded a bumper crop of hirsute weeds
occasionally tripping me up

analogous to hallucinogen
causing a public health hazard
warranting, necessitating, and goading me
to give shout out for stylist
to tender mine lovely brunette locks,
which might be repurposed into a wig
for patients undergoing chemotherapy,
or afflicted with alopecia,
(the partial or complete absence
of hair from areas of the body
where it normally grows; baldness).

As a knobby kneed, puny,
scrawny, wimpy kid whose,
(back in the nineteen sixties),
his parents decreed their singular
(painfully shy dorky, geeky and nerdy)
old school boy who sported a buzz cut,
which found him reacting and responding
(in short order rebelling)
passive aggressively by
refusing to bathe

until mommy dearest demanded
(well nigh upon
the bewitching hour of midnight)
to witness her son soaked 
and essentially marinated
(until my skin shriveled like a prune)
in the (clawfoot) tub
lest he stink to high heavens,
and given a serious dressing down
by the timely principal Mister Clock.

Far back as I can remember,
the significance of hair
assumed an outsize role,
whether enviously eying other lads
their thick straight hank,
or nowadays bristling
with self reproach
cursed with thinning
greasy limp strands
(interspersed with gray)

experiencing shame being seen in public,
a disgrace to our family name of Wagstaff
and an embarrassment 
to the human race
ofttimes associating 
myself with Samson,
whereat emotional, physical,
and spiritual strength
rooted (pun intended)
within each hair shaft

(the visible part of the hair
that sticks out of the skin),
and rooted in the skin and extends
down to the deeper layers of the skin
surrounded by the hair follicle
(a sheath of skin
and connective tissue),
which is also connected
to a sebaceous gland.


I Am An Eyewitness To Your Beauty Within

i am an eyewitness to your beauty within
if i could lick you there, then i would be blessed a rich man
flowers grow within the many hairs on my chest with every follicle you kiss
whatever i did right, i must have come from the left hand side
i never thought laughter with you can make me so light and mellow
i guess i have never really given myself a chance to view you away from the dew
what i see for myself is the very foundation of what i want for myself
my shyness is like wires from a downed power line preventing me from reflex and mobility
your eye contact is like a lethal injection in the veins of your pop quiz for my heart
somewhere between uncertainty and a sudden burst of balance i kiss your eager lips
clarity rises above a once cloudy and drab and dreary sky....
a greenhorn now seeing light, i am an eyewitness to your beauty within
© Marty King  Create an image from this poem.

Treasure the Pleasure of God's Blessings

once i had footprints as tattoos
the art was tasteless
the seed was a hateful hoax

once i had phlegm laced spit in every hair follicle
the gleam was unattractive
the roots were unbalanced and unevenly growing

once i had gnats fronting as a jazz band predominately playing dirges
the rhythm was a compulsive liar
the melody was basically a malady

then you came along 
you saw me in all chapters of unkempt
you dried my tears
you gave me shelter
you made me pray with you
you Loved me to Wellness

now i am a better man 
now i am smelling like lavender and vanilla
now my heart is richer than my many big pictures
now i know the true meaning of Prosperous Gratitude
now i know what it really feels like to be Definitively Loved
Now I Thank God and Give Him Praise For You.....

now i must go and get myself together and get ready
her funeral starts at 11am
her last words to me were 'You Blessed My Life By My Saving Yours'

Treasure The Pleasure Of God's Blessings......
© Marty King  Create an image from this poem.

Getting older part one

Not fretting couldn’t be gladder about getting podgy?

Forgetting about a stodgy bladder that’s definitely dodgy?

Sadder even snotty about needing a potty..regretting being dotty

Betting some grotty grumps about bumps & lumps anything spotty


Sometimes memory stumps.. only remember embers now befuddled

Somehow the huddled cast of the distant past still cuddled 

Ashes of once clear flashes of near yesteryear appear muddled


Ribald oracle.. grinning about going bald...hair thinning

Apart from the ears and nose where it shows..grows & flows

Can't pretend follicle foes & woes.. do descend dear friend 

Clearer you're now nearer to the rear end than the beginning


Refined increasingly find you do become more kind

Other than the tumour of another baby boomer

Defined needy seedy greedy.. must feed me consumer 

Not a rumour..increasingly I pined for candour and humour 

Chaps can perhaps blossom as a wined & dined late bloomer


No remorse.. scheming larrikin leaning's still in force

Gleaning the gleaming meaning of life is all about giving

Dreaming.. loving.. smile beaming and "living" of course
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Natural Hair Wig Braids and Knots

Oh, gaze upon the towering height,
A gravity-defying sight!
A masterpiece of horse and hair,
Held high upon the fabled stair.
No paltry scalp, no dull decree,
But architectural vanity!
From ancient Egypt’s royal reign,
To Versailles’ weeping, powdered pane,
The wig proclaims: “I own this space,
Regardless of my naked face!”
With scents of lavender and starch,
It marches past the swelling arc,
Concealing lice and graying dead,
A kingdom perched upon a head.
But look below the braided lace,
To where the scalp declares its case.
The fateful knot, the twisted rue,
Demanding praise and tribute due.
The tender-headed, weary plait,
A marathon of tug and wait.
With grease and ribbons woven tight,
It keeps the secrets of the night.
Yet, when the morning sun takes hold,
The tragedy of hair unfolds.
Flyaway, an epic old bag,
The dreaded, knotted, tangled shag.
A thousand hours at the drink,
To make a girl just pause and think:
“Why must this natural cyanide,
Cause every follicle to hide?”
So off it comes, the heavy plait,
Exchanging all for synthetic faith.
The wig is donned, the knot is fed,
A better, glued, and flawless head!
No frizz, no fuss, no morning dread,
Just instant “powder” in the spread.
Form: Rhyme

How To Proliferate Flowers

Thumb crush caterpillar fuzz follicle woven wire bent
Pipe cleaner indetectibly clamps fluttery paper crepe
Tiny tear splinter injury etched on crinkled parchment
Puncture forms an institute to forthwith contemplate


Together classified as flower, louloudia beauty flaunt
Plumage lurid thrives beside finite petal flop contrast
Tactical iron hand velvet glove primes formal contort
Proclamations crafted after careful strategy prefaced


Ruffled rogue construct erects its garish occupation
Origami hegemony laughs at limp stemmed genuine
Traditional rotted rose heavy heads rely on hydration
Pointed silver skewer stamen expands phenomenon 



            
               Sixteenth February
               - Pseudo Society -
Form: Rhyme

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