Long Hair style Poems
Long Hair style Poems. Below are the most popular long Hair style by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hair style poems by poem length and keyword.
Memories
Jogging on opposite ends of this rural street
We ran parallel miles of joyous scenic beat
As morning hues rose upon new orange sky
And glimpses of a new dawn ambled nearby.
Upon your journey my tracks soon laid eyes
As you paused briefly to my pleasant surprise.
And you didn't mind as I approached your side,
Greeting me graciously with a smile amplified.
You asked me about spark you saw in my eyes
And I playfully told you it's been there for a while.
As you delicately caressed your blond hair style
Your blue eyes boldly seized my heart's desire.
Golden rays glistened your bluish jogging attire
As aromatic morning bloom blossomed in the air
And soft breeze fluttered leaves with urgent dare
Holding me captive of an opulent atmosphere.
We bonded on this street ever since eyes first met,
Your loving image in my eyes is permanently set,
Tugging my heart fervently with every breath I take,
Holding days smitten and keeping nights awake.
I held you in embrace as you kissed me longingly
And I kept holding as if till the dawn of eternity.
That was last I saw you, as you hastily pulled away,
Sweet memories comfort me now as I jog in dismay.
October 30, 2017
Just me and my granddaughters, two sweet cute tweens
eating up pizza. It’s “No-night” for greens!
I tell them old stories about family.
Their own funny stories they tell back to me.
They’ve brought a nail file. One files my nails
while I tell more stories with juicy details!
We play on the internet for a short while
then chat about things like our favorite hair style.
It’s now after ten, but tonight is for fun.
No going to bed till well after one!
We pick out a series on Netflix to watch.
At last we discover one that is top-notch.
I with my popcorn and they with ice-cream -
we’re living it up while living the dream!
Oct. 12, 2019 for the contest of Line Gauthier: Living the Dream
So She knew
That declaration of love
It took me by surprise
We hadn’t spoken for decades
The cut off when I didn’t reply
Later the daily prayers she sent up
I still did not know
Then the bald picture
It frightened me
She asked how I liked it
I replied in silence
She sensed my shock and lied
Its my new hair style
I completely missed it
She called to say Happy D died
I was sad and cried a little
We grew up together
They were both my (girl)friends
She asked me to send a donation
Then sent pictures at the funeral
She looked healthy with her white smile
When we parted as teenagers
That smile always stayed with me
We used to be mischievous
Playing in the rain all wet
Everybody knew then she left
And now two more pictures
She had lost a lot of weight
I barely recognized her
A gold ring on her withered hand
A grandchild on the other
They were dressing for church
Several months passed
I called again in vain
Finally the news came
She was gone …
She couldn’t wait for me
I have been thinking of her
Those days long long ago
I would wait up to catch a glimpse
Or perhaps to talk as she came by
I remember her other leaving
Like this one without goodbye
She had shielded me again
I just now caught on
She had a masters degree,
from Trinity Cambridge,
was brokering deals in the city,
with overheard talk re. financial leverage.
Whilst I’d a diploma
from a,
“technical” college.
A photographic memory,
from heart she could recite,
the Shakespeare plays and
the complete periodic table,
and her port and whisky bottles had their own silver labels.
A no mortgage flat, Persian cat and a cleaner,
a holiday retreat on some remote Welsh peninsula.
but despite,
the disparity in background and mental capacity,
we clicked and hooked up and for a while,
lived,
quite lustfullly.
To survive, comfortably,
in her social circles,
I needed to eliminate some of the hurdles.
The barriers that doubtless would have stifled,
my chance of becoming,
economically entitled.
A list was produced, and included employment and personal grooming,
but my care free attitude,
Is what attracted her,
I imagined,
what she found appealing.
But lust is short term and knowing,
knowledge is power I began reading her own books and with time on my hands spent hour upon hour.
I read 1984, so not to be a bore,
at her parties.
I read to Kill a Mockingbird, so I would be heard,
at her parties.
I read The Great Gatsby, because I had to be,
at her parties.
I read Death of a Salesman,
to be life and soul,
at her parties.
I read Great Expectations, to get
me out of situations,
at her parties.
I read The Grapes of Wrath, so they wouldn’t laugh,
at her parties.
I read Pride and Prejudice, to stop them extracting the piss,
at her parties.
I read Catcher in the Rye, so I could look people in the eye,
at her parties.
I read The adventures of Huckleberry Finn, just to fit in,
at her parties.
I read book after book,
but no one gave a flying f*** , about me,
at her parties.
Ironically after reading Gullivers travels,
almost as I closed the cover,
she told me to pack my bags.
It was all over.
I went up North,
got a job,
on a three month trial,
Coincidentally, as a trainee librarian,
at a private school,
near Carlisle.
The acceptance photograph displaying the Chancellor’s handshake,
new wife,village life
and my f*** you smile,
and a perfectly groomed new hair style.
The 60's
The look was penny loafers, bobby socks,
pleated skirts, button up shirts,
bell bottom pants and headbands
Flower children were also the era,
Stood for peace and love also political movement
Listen to the music of the Beatles, Monkeys, Rolling Stones plus many more.
My heart throbbed for John Lennon, so young and in love
In my private time I listen to Liberace on the radio
Danced the Twist, Jerk, Monkey, Mashed potato, and the Watusi
I love to dance at the school Sox Hop dances up on the bleachers
Swinging my long auburn hair to the waist, back and forth
My hips moved to the twist
While everyone else danced on the gym floor
Mom’s favorite hair style, the Beehive
Dad looks so good looking behind the wheel of his 1959 De Soto station wagon
A child’s joy jumping rope, hopscotch, jacks,
Rotating a Hula hoop around my waist
Playing marbles with the boys
My favorite, climbing trees but
It always came with a broken bone
Our 35th president was John F. Kennedy
I was sitting in a swing in the playground
When we all heard he had been fatally shot
I was only 12 then
Tears ran down my face when I heard
People weren’t being treated equal
He stood for Equal Rights
We lost great man was that day
Growing up in the 60s was fun, but also very sad
Contest Name: Decades The 60’s * 2nd Place
Sponsor: Kelly Deschler
Time Changed Words
Olden days
Days so golden
Golden then
Then not at all
All wish them so
So wished away
Away in time
Time was quite lost
Lost daydream style
Style your hair
Hair style is new
New slim fit blouse
Blouse blue is mind
Mind your step
Step two at a time
Time won't stop
Stop standing still
Still I did fear
Fear strange new days
Days after days
Days traveled past
Past my dates
Dates time words
Words not distilled
Distilled new words
Words now renewed
Renewed words mimed
Mimed well this time
Time blink blinks
Blinks twice then waits
Waits a few minutes
Minutes pass fast
Fast paced life
Life still goes on
On and on
On a roll
Roll out change
Change changes words
Words you did say
Say stay in line
Line up your mouth
Mouth just good things
Things might change
Change the past
Past changes sight
Sight softens views
Views not the same
Same things so true
True words spoken
Spoken gently
Gently does it
It can work
Work it out
Out damned spot
Spot the difference
Difference is just that
That love is kind
Kind loves kind words
Words changed by time
Time in the present
Present time changes words
Words should be golden
Golden not Olden Days.
First posted 30/1/2015
Has a note saying it's "Chain Verse" (Not sure?)
Seems similar to Blitz format.
Aqua. M Poems.
Form:
Trousers and tights shirts
Tights and baggy blouses
Buff boots and converse
Heelys without wheels I do
Is what I wear
Is what I am
Is what I be
Under that dress and flats
Behind that hair style and makeup
Is what I pretend to be
Is what people want me to be
Is what they want from me
It’s a switch in personality
From boy to girl
Or that is what they say?
I act boyish?
I am being me
But they just won’t accept me
It’s not like I committed a crime against nature
I was just being me
Acting to be myself
And that is my nature
But what people also say
What I also noticed about myself
I intend to succeed in having
Two personalities
Tough? Soft?
Wild, sensitive?
Adventurous, poetic?
Athletic, lazy
Singer, screamer
Dancer, deep?
Fighter, surrender?
Strong, weak…
Is that what they say?
Or is it just mixed up?
I’m glad I do…
September 6- date for returning to school,
I am going to embrace it with joy;
grateful and ready to accept each rule,
and ev'ry experience . . . girl and boy.
I inform mom that I need lot's of stuff,
and a brand new hair style to flip and fluff;
and a trendy backpack to overstuff.
I tell my dad I need some tech supplies,
a laptop, printer and maybe a cell;
oh sure dad, of course, I can compromise.
get me this please- so this girl can feel swell.
I need stuff too like pencils, markers, pens,
notebooks- scissors, rulers to share with friends;
style for gathering in library dens.
Oh yes, need school clothes like tops and cute jeans,
skirts, dresses, leggings, shoes, socks scarves, and hats;
remember, I like things in pinks and greens,
I can just see trendy me having chats.
Oh, mom and dad, yes, I plan to study,
I will find a smart school study buddy;
dad, I read it's bad to over-study !
_______________________
September 04, 2022
Poetry/Rhyme/Back to School in Canada
Copyright Protected, ID 09-1485-366-04
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Back to School
sponsor, Francine Roberts, Judged 09/20/2022
My gran doesn’t ‘get’ this woke society
I told her that there’s a new sobriety
We went for a walk to see what we would see
And show her we all can be what we will be
Men can be women and girls can be boys
And most men in showbiz have that certain poise
I’ve seen a guy wearing a little black dress
And people whose gender is something to guess
But live and let live is the latest doctrine
Though sometimes I wouldn’t know where to begin
Someone approached us in pink dungarees
And Doc Marten boots and a beard to ‘their’ knees
With glitter mascara, diamanté tiara
A dog tag that said nothing more than ‘Tamara’
‘Their’ Mohican hair style was quite a strange sight
Twas dyed rainbow colours and went left to right
I tried not to notice ‘their’ tightly strapped breasts
But bits were protruding from her (their) string vest
In an unguarded moment I said, “Evening Miss.”
He/she/it/they gawped and said, “That’s remiss.”
I told he/she/it/they, “I’m not of this age
So don’t take offence, please don’t get in a rage.”
‘They’ strode off and snarled like a pantomime cat
And my little old gran said, “What The F*** Was That?”
having a bee in
one’s bonnet ~ is to be wrapped
up in obsessed with
the honey trap ~ is
an attractive or handsome
looks woos your fondness
the bee's knee's ~ is
something new like an iPhone
or your shoes hair style
the birds and the bees
~ birds do it bees do it and
smart-as-heck fleas SEX (Cole Porter's is:
educated/smart-as-heck
used to fit in the point--
SEX)
what's meant float like a
butterfly sting like a bee
~ life perseverance