Long Hairdos Poems
Long Hairdos Poems. Below are the most popular long Hairdos by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hairdos poems by poem length and keyword.
Dear God, our fashion is but a façade
when our spirits are lifeless, dormant within.
Dead is the part that should walk with you, God.
Dark are the alleys we travel in sin..
The real me is that part that's worth saving.
We all give the body far too much weight -
the plush garments which our pride is craving,
the fancy hairdos and nails we create.
The real me only Jesus can perfect;
my mind may decay but not my soul.
No matter the training, we'll never connect
if deep at our core there lies a great hole.
This body is just a house for my soul;
My soul needs no ornaments to achieve.
Passions unreined, mind bent on control,
my greedy will I inherited from Eve.
Where rests my spirit that key piece of me?
the nucleus I use when I’m praying.
Communion with God can change mind and body
but not when my spirit is straying.
My mental state, God, must accept Your dressing.
Your gentle wisdom and love should fit me
for Christ-like submission and confessing
my “fig-leaf” attire is vain and flimsy.
Jesus, you're the Source people need to see.
Our soul’s lone covering - Your righteousness.
May folks see in us meekness and mercy
as we shine Your Light in peace and distress.
God, grant me calm towards my worst enemy.
Deep in my spirit sealing that huge hole
May your spirit dwell in me completely;
my body – Your temple – my highest goal.
inspired by Dr. Adrian Rogers
In the dog-days of summer of so long ago
there were bear-hugging moments I like to recall
Like leafing through pages of ram-shackle books,
that are dog-eared, and faded, wearing hound-tooth worn seams
I had a bull's-eye encounter with puppy-tail schemes
There are cat-walks through memories, over turkey-trot trails
wearing pigtails, and Mother Goose, and laughter would peal
Where pony-tailed hairdos would swing like a bell,
and where kids could play leap-frog, and happiness dwells
We would run like the roosters and bull-doze the grass,
picking puffed dandelions, to blow with our breaths
Spreading the catnip and watching it gasp
Grasping the wind, while it wolfed-down the rest
Blooming sweet dogwood would bend in the breeze
Elephant-ears would line every path
With cattails and polly-wogs, we would bunny-hop home
for chickpeas, and monkey bread, and gooseberry creams
Then hug little teddy-bear, in our goose-down reclines
while dog-days of summer would live for all time
Christina knows a thing or two about sacrifice
Ceaseless days, cold offices and numbers
Checkin' catalogs for the remnant of a social life
Eats her lunches at her desk, yet she's dying from hunger
But there's a medal on her neck
And should the overlords inspect,
It stands as a reminder
That there's at least one other martyr
Who had a cross --
Maybe all's not lost
She wears it close
Close to the bone
All her life been kept in line
And she's been there all alone
Corinne was never like other teenage girls
A shaved head in a high school of mile-high hairdos
Punk rock treated like a misfit in the disco world
And those jocks and guidettes say whatever they care to
But there's a secret near her breast
To why she ain't like all the rest
A terrible reminder
That back at home there is a father
Likes little games --
Oh what a cryin' shame
She hides it close
Close to the Bone
All her life pushed out of line
Disaffected and alone
Move your hands out of the way
And show your heart
I see flickers of a soul
Is how I know it's blowin' apart
There's a war being waged inside
Maybe protest or maybe it's pride
Your personal reminder
That everybody's a stranger
Battling the world --
So don't sweat it, girl
Hold it close
Close to the Bone
Nobody's life exists within lines
Yours is not to be alone
There’s no such thing as normal
For we’re each of us unique,
From our styles – blasé or formal –
To our hairdos or physique.
What we read or eat or order,
Where we visit, shop or sleep,
If we’ve come from ‘cross a border
Or tend flowers or raise sheep…
We are like no other being
For, no matter what we’re taught,
We all have a way of seeing
Tailored to the truths we’ve brought.
All our daily interactions,
Each experience we know,
Either blinds us with distractions
Or directs us where to go.
Yet the slights and hurts assemble
And accumulate as well,
Meshed with joys ‘til we resemble
All that lives within our shell.
God lets us see life from every angle. Anklebiters that we are. Fist fighters, black-eyed contenders, snivelers. The boss looks down, looks into our eyes, looks at our feet, looks underneath. We don’t see the cobwebs between our fingers and toes, in our mouth and ears. Our hairdos make us look like weirdos, piled fry-high, like the bride of Frankenstein. Our hearts shoved into the easy-bake of childhood. Black-spider shades grip our nose and tether behind our ears, holding onto dendrites. White teeth flash their watermelon pits, black and blue. God lets us see from every angle. The dark spots hinder perfect sight, the dark holes below lower lashes, thinning lips, fattening thighs, exercising our rights, but mostly wrongs. I hear the gong...not many do. Do we belong to the world or to our God? Is this yet Babylon. Our speech once babbled, have we forgotten? Why do you think we don’t all speak the same language? Scientists prove there’s been a worldwide flood. Jesus walked the earth and the sun. Now you see the one world coming together. Remember what happened last time the world did this — were we not scattered? Scientists say there was a continental divide — this once united mass. Indeed we are anklebiters, curtain climbers, toddlers. God lets us find our own stray. Can we find our own way?
1/6/2021
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done in earth,
as it is in heaven.
Matthew 6:10 KJV
Just as days long ago, when decorum resolved,
before composure, and poise,.. were corsages, unknown
Where propriety mattered, and was favored as gold,
high society, has gathered to flavor their tea
There's a trellis, embraced by a rose climbing vine
Places are set, for dining in jade
beneath shadows that stretch under arthritic old trees
While slivers of sunshine, squeeze through the branches
of silver leafed limbs, in magnolia bloomed shade
Tea will be served, by large knuckled hands
at several round tables dressed with Swiss lace designs
Wearing lavender silk is our proper Grand Dame'
who fits her surroundings, as vintage as wine
Voices are lilting like the birds in the trees
Laughter and chatter, mingle with soft, summer breezes
A bouquet of old friends, around a few scattered tables.
Silver coifed hairdos, to make celebration
Crepe myrtle and wrinkles, beneath ashes and maples
Water cress munchies, and triangle creations
Sweet honey-suckle, tucked over the porches.…
Rose petal blossoms, are painted on china
Bridge cards, tumble by Blue Willow dishes
Biscuits from England, crumble sublimely
Large bosoms bouncing, and big floppy hats
Gossip dished up with lemon-sliced frowns
Up in the tree is the neighbor's calico cat
who catches a glance, and a chance to crawl down
Are they ladies of leisure, from a time that is lost?
Or a painting I've seen on the wall from the past?
______________________________
Inspired By the Garden Party Contest
Sponsored By Cyndi McMillan 6/6/14
Millions of girls wanted to be delicate and pretty.
Mallory was not one of them, she wanted to be herself.
The others flocked to the same places
Wanting identical hairdos, copying another girl’s nail art.
Mallory had no time to worry about nail art.
She was learning bone and muscular structure
Millions of girls wanted to be invited to prom
Mallory was not one of them, she was answering her mail.
Sixteen colleges had told her that she had been admitted.
She was making her choices
Eight of them offered to pay her entire tuition.
One offered to also pay her room and board.
She selected that one.
In a world where change is inevitable we never see it coming
new and more advanced search engines
hairdos that shock us with color and multi dimensional form
faster cars that run on solar energy
foods syringed with synergetic fibre, may or may not be
lethal to our health...
Plastic trees and recycled items that make us wonder,
what was it once before ?
weather buffets that whip us one day and stroke us the next
hyper media intoxication that makes us beg for temperance
In a world that is one day your best friend and the next
your adversary,
I'm glad I have a home to come home to every night
I'm glad I have a family that never leaves my sight
I'm glad I don't like change enough to give up being
"predictable"
In this volatile world where nothing ever stands still for very long,
I'm glad I reached an age of appreciation, for the same old song.
Dec. 3, 2019
BEAUTIFUL FALL
Brisk the breeze that shivers the pines,
Excites the mind, in throes of daydreams,
About escaping from the tests — that litter of
Untimely pop quizzes of consequence.
Thrust the football — enervate the bleachers!
Irradiate the touchdown of the student body cheeks.
Freeze the lament of leaves in joyous hue!
Unfasten the laces of maple and oak hairdos.
Loosen the season’s best gourds and wild relief.
Fall into the raked leaves of Autumnal bliss, the
Allspice of uniforms and costumes, the vainglorious
Lift — running down the padded field and making passes.
Learned in school - the beautiful charm of Fall.
9/7/2018