Long Head of hair Poems
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She updated her picture on Facebook today
Smilling by flowers, nothing to get in her way
On seeing the picture I just couldn't hate
The person she is, though she's made me this way
I noticed that she had put on weight
I'm skinner then her now a fact she will hate!
She's always been superficial about looks
Its clear to see she is not as happy as the picture she took
It made me smile that I look better than her now
A small victory for me though it may seem soar
Iv lots 8 stone through illness alone
My struggles to her I have made known
I contacted her when I was admitted to hospital
But she only cared it was my husband who told her
She contacted me to ask which number I'm on
That's all she asked, there was no contact no more
That was last September, she's hasn't called to check
If I'm better now and if the illness is in check
I guess I should not be surprised
This is a women who belives all her lies
I feel so rotten critiquing her weight
But she told me being skinny was the only way
Being overweight was never right in her eyes
My weight disgusted her through all my life
But as I say im nearly "skinny" now
If she still loved me she would be "proud"
I fit in now what with what she sees as beauty
But her personality always made me feel ugly
I don't ever see looks in people
The inside is the only thing that makes people real
But with her its the inside that makes,
Her outside ugly no matter the amounts of pictures she fakes
Iv got one thing going for me, of that I'm happy
Both of my parents are not what they would call "ugly"
A full of head of hair in their late 50's
The only genes I'm happy they gave me
When I see her smile I know that she hides
The darkness she has buried inside
Through all my life I believed she was right
But this small victory will help me sleep tonight
Today im glad I look exactly like him
My face doesnt harbour or hide any darkness within
It always pained her I was his "twin"
Maybe thats why she always made me hate my skin
It doesn't matter if your fat or thin
Its the beauty that matters that you find within
A supefical victory today I did win
My weight or my looks were never a sin!!!
TREASURES OF YOUR SOUL
Just a reminder before I start…
This comes with Love from your Mother’s heart
It was Saturday September 1987
When my prayer specifications arrived from Heaven-
You see, long before I was your age I asked God to Bless me one day with a son
And that was how the thought of you had first begun
So, Twenty -one years ago to this day
You arrived…perfect and handsome in every way-
As baby and toddler you were way ahead of your peers
Showing wisdom and intellect beyond your years
Added to that a head of hair to astound
Made you without doubt, the best looking kid around
At 6 months old you said your first word-
Wait for it…”Ninja Turtle” is what we all heard-
This was hardly surprising in retrospect though
As your love of sword’s and sword -fighting started to show
You started to question us on everything in sight
No doubt in our minds, you were exceptionally bright
When your sister arrived you were almost three
Chat to Keelyn, and you will find she’ll agree…
That having a sister was no issue at all-
In fact you were her protector and mentor from the day she was born-
The love that the two of you share,
Is unique, very special, and extremely rare
As young adults you still nurture this bond with each other-
You make great siblings as sister and brother
I could write pages, so many things to relay
But here is the important stuff I need to say…
You care about your Faith, Family and Friends...
And still-- the heights of your Academic achievements know no end
From the day you could speak the sentence we heard most of all-
“When I grow up a Dr. will be my vocation and call”
Four years into your Medical degree
We realize how seriously you took that first plea
You learnt to discern from an early age between right and wrong
I am pleased to acknowledge in God’s Kingdom you firmly belong
I love you so much…a love that has no measure
To have you as a son - a gift from God I will always Treasure-
So as you celebrate this milestone age of Twenty-one
It goes without saying- you make us so proud to have you as a son
(Footnote: My son is now 25—a qualified Doctor, and firm in His Faith)
TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY WITH A HAIRLINE FRACTURE CRUSHED NASAL ARCH BASILAR SKULL FRACTURED CRUSHED EYE SOCKET BEING A TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY PATIENT RECOVERY IS BASICALLY LIFELONG WHILE COPING WITH SEVERE TRAUMATIC HEADACHES MONITORED BY PAIN MEDICATIONS PAIN MANAGEMENT 12 INJECTIONS NERVE BLOCK EVERY 25 DAYS OPTIC NERVE DAMAGE LIKE TINY WIRES BLOOD VESSELS THAT CARRIED SIGNALS FROM MY BRAIN TO MY EYE COPING I AM SO BLESSED TO HAVE MY WONDERFUL HUSBAND CARING FOR ME TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY LEADING TO MY TWO STROKES ON BLOOD THINNERS TO CONTROL BLOOD CLOTS FROM SMALL ANYURESM 3MM BASILAR TIP LEARNING TO WALK TALK HOLD A FORK TIE MY SHOE TYPING WITH ONE FINGER KEEPING MY TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY JOURNAL MY ILLNESS VERTIGO PARTIAL BLINDNESS EVEN EARLY ONSET OF DEMENTIA FUNCTIONING HEALING COPING WITH PTSD ANXIETY DISORDER PANIC DISORDER DEPRESSION SURVIVING DOMESTIC VIOLENCE I FEEL TRULY BLESSED HEART RACING WITH ATRIAL FIBRILLATION I STILL HAVE HOPE SUFFERING WITH THE REALITY TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY DOESN'T GET BETTER IT ACTUALLY GETS WORSE OVER TIME MY HAIRLINE FRACTURE IS SUNKEN IN THE FRACTURE ACTUALLY GREW SKULL FRACTURE IS THE WORSE THE FORCE FROM THE CAR BOMB EXPLODING MY FACE WAS SO POWERFUL THAT IT CRACKED MY SKULL FROM EAR TO EAR UNDESIRABLE PAIN IT ACTUALLY FEELS LIKE ALL THE BONES IN MY FACE IS STILL BITING MY BRAIN TINY BONE FRAGMENTS FLOATING AROUND MY BRAIN ORBITS CAUSE MORE DAMAGE AND YET THERE IS NO WAY TO REMOVE THEM UNLESS I WAS DECEASED THATS WHEN THEY COULD REMOVE ALL MY SKIN FROM MY SKULL SO MY PAIN IS BEING MANAGED TO MAKE ME AS COMFORTABLE AS POSSIBLE MY HEAD FEELS HEAVY NOW HARD TO HOLD IT UP MY FACE ACHES MY EARS ARE RINGING BALANCE IS OFF BUT I AM NOT ALONE I AWAIT MY BRAIN TO SHUT DOWN ONSET OF DEMENTIA I WRITE I WRITE I WRITE UNCONTROLLABLY I KNOW THAT ALL PART OF TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY WITH A HAIRLINE FRACTURE TRYING TO WRAP MY MIND AROUND UNDERNEATH MY HEAD OF HAIR IS A GIANT CRACK IN MY SKULL FROM EAR TO EAR I LAUGH AT MYSELF A BOMB CRUSHED MY FACE CRACKED MY SKULL AND BRUISED MY BRAIN MY NEUROLOGY SAINT SAYS I SHOULD HAVE DIED HARD TO BELIEVE I SURVIVED SUCH A HORRID TRAUMATIC EVENT
Welcome to my barber shop,
Owned by the late Puddin' Pop.
That's my dad's picture in the frame:
Let me tell you how he earned his nickname.
Back in the summer of 1984,
My mom bought my sister and me to the store.
There was a barber shop next door,
And here's my pop. His name was William Moore.
I'm Calvin, his son; Anne is his wife;
Penny is my sister who loves Barney Fife.
"Hey, everyone," my dad said with a smile.
"I haven't seen you guys in a long while.
I just opened up my shop today:
What would you like? Let's get started right away."
My mom said, "You see this full head of hair?
Calvin looks like an afro grizzly bear.
He only needs a shape up and a little off the top."
But I was a little nervous and yelled, "No! STOP!
I don't look like no grizzly bear,
And there's no way you're getting me in that chair!"
So Mom and Dad thought of a scheme
To convince me to look fresh and clean.
Mom reached in the bag that was brought from the store.
What did she take out? I had to explore.
It was chocolate and vanilla pudding pops from Jell-O!
My sister and I were like, "HELLO!"
"Now son," said dad, "you don't need to fear.
Your mom, sister, and I are right here.
But if you want this frozen treat,
Stop your bawling and get your booty in that seat!"
My hair had to go. I didn't have a choice,
But to obey my father's strong baritone voice.
After 15 minutes, it wasn't so bad:
I received my first haircut from my dear old dad.
My mom paid $10 and gave me my dessert;
I was so happy, even with the stains on my shirt.
For almost 15 years, we've been going over there
To get rid of my so-called "afro grizzly bear hair".
Sadly, my Puddin' Pop passed away.
But his barber shop is still standing today.
There's been a minor change since he passed on:
Now it's a barber shop and a beauty salon.
My sister and I own both of these places
And loves the smiles on our customers' faces.
Every time we open our shops for the crowd,
I know in my heart that we've done our dad proud.
That's the story of this awesome barber shop.
Thanks for everything, Puddin' Pop.
I’ve made a few mistakes in my life. I can say that with aplomb
I wore a blue brocade tux with a top hat and cane to my junior/senior prom.
I once let a beautician curl my hair...now that was really astute!
I thought a curly head of hair would do wonders for my new blue leisure suit.
She said a perm would make my baldness seem fuller and my love life it would prolong.
When it was over it took but one look in the mirror to know that she was wrong.
My hair looked like a rebellious Brillo pad and I’m not being indiscreet
when I say the only female attracted to me was a French Poodle down the street!
In college while out drinking with friends I pretty much sealed my fate
when I cozied up to a pretty cheerleader and asked her for a date.
Was it the alcohol or was it love that made me forget I’d have to contend
With her boyfriend…sitting next to her…
was he the quarterback or a tight end?
I don’t remember, but I know my distilled confidence made me feel bold and brave and brash.
What happened next is a bit of a blur...
I woke up face down in the trash.
The point here is we all make mistakes
they await us around every turn.
We shouldn’t be afraid to make them
because from them we’ve so much to learn.
Without mistakes we wouldn’t have the chocolate chip cookies so many of us crave.
The slinky would have never been invented...
no post it notes or microwaves.
There would be no penicillin,
no fireworks would ever be seen.
Without mistakes we’d see a straight tower in Pisa
and miss that beautiful lean.
We will try and fail many times in our life,
sometimes we’ll crash...
sometimes we’ll fly
but the biggest mistake we will ever make...
is when we fail to even try.
True I didn’t get a date with the cheerleader
but I still remember to this day
Her smile and that wink she gave me
as her huge boyfriend dragged me away.
I remember that moment with fondness...
I know as a couple we would have been cute.
She, the beautiful cheerleader,
and me in my blue leisure suit.
I'm a black woman and I cry
I'm a black woman and I cry
You've been telling me
all my life
that everything was going to be alright.
But I cried when I was a little girl
when I had to cut my locks
into Shirley Temple curls.
And I cry now that I am a woman of the world.
And I can see
it still matters if I want to be
an afro or a weave.
Who should care if I want to be a blond?
If, I want my hair to be short or long?
No matter what I do I will always be black
or to be more politically correct
African American.
I will always have to pray for my dark son
for he can be shot because of a profile
or by a thug
no matter if his hair is nappy
or greasy and waved up.
And even if my lover be kind and white,
People will say he isn't the one that should be happy
but I.
They will say
the privilege to feel our love is totally mine,
no matter if I had braids,
or had straight hair below my behind.
And if we have children, their pedigree
will be determined by the black blood
that flows through me.
Even if their hair is yellow and curly.
For that was one law that never changed
After reconstruction or slavery days...
And all the laws that passed and said I was free
seems like a lie to me.
Because I can't even decide how to wear
my own head of hair
without it being such a big affair
and a symbol of how much I care
to demonstrate
that I am proud to say
I'm black and I'm beautiful.
But, that is the question to which I must answer
and tell the truth...
How do I say "Be proud!"
To the little girl that comes from my womb
if my appearance brings any doubt
about what I think my heritage
is all about.
So today I don't buy any Indian hair
And I throw my jar of perm in the trash
And I sit my pretty tender head in the chair
And when she says "Ma that cornrow’s too tight!"
I say "Child!
Be quiet!
Sit back!
Mama ain’t got all night. "
It rained on the parish as steeple bells rang
A loud burst of thunder screamed out with a bang
The doors were all locked which was never the norm
A big crowd of people stood out in the storm
They looked saturated from head down to toe
The rivers were swollen now shone in their flow
With puddles reacting in strangest of ways
This all seemed quite weird on the sunniest day
The leader a man with a full head of hair
He shouted some words that he wanted to share
“This rain will not stop this is what I believe
So I think it’s time that this parish should leave”
The crowd that had listened now said with a frown
“Why is it that rain always seems to fall down.
Whenever we gather, when we congregate
It follows us early and follows us late?”
When then a small child, he came out to say
I don’t feel the rain on this sunniest day
I think that this storm that you all want to hide
Might just now be coming from deep down inside
If only, you’d smile, I know you would see
The bluest of skies that are in front of me
But that is the problem in this sorrowed town
Because you’re not happy, the rains will come down
When one of them smiled and then there were two
A few more then followed, yes that they did do
When suddenly everyone in their own style
Proceeded to wear their most wonderful smile
The next thing that happened, what came to appear
The rainfall it stopped and the skies were so clear
This parish then cheered and rejoiced in such joy
Because they had listened to one little boy
The man with the full head of hair raised the lad
And thanked him for making the parish feel glad
He now was a hero to all who had come
To praise this small child for bringing the sun
But he said “no thank you is needed for me
Because it was in all of you now you see
If you are sad then the rain it will fall
But if you are happy, the sun comes to call”
It makes me ill just being around you as you leave me for the millionth time
The final straw was pulled and every straw you pulled before that took a piece of me each time like pulling strands of hair out of my head until I was bald
You knew you could take my hair
Every last strand of it
Taking the only strands that belonged to me
She would be okay you must have thought
You putting my strands of hair on your own head each time giving you a full head of hair
You never even took care of what you stole from me
Leaving it frail and destroyed
I could make due having no strands of hair left
I would grow more hair for it to be continuously pulled out of my head
I wake up now to see my eyelashes growing back after I rubbed my eyes repeatedly from crying making them all fall out
You didn’t pull those out but instead you caused them to fall
I’d be okay though , eventually growing new hair yet it no longer felt like mine
The hair I wanted was the pieces taken from me not the pieces I was to gain again
It no longer felt like my hair
It felt like an obligation to feel normal
For a while i would wear a wig, covering up and not facing the pain you had caused me
I did it so nobody would see how much i hurt
I no longer cry about you to keep my eyelashes the only pieces you haven’t pulled out yet
I want my old hair back yet it’s no longer mine
I was left to live with the awkward stage of it growing back after you left
Slowly detaching myself from reality so i didn't have to face it
My hair would never fully grow back again but I would have to learn to love it for you could no longer take it from my head
Now and again,
Even though you left,
Some hairs still get pulled out without you pulling.
A new year and an old mirror
Who is this aging face it reflects to me
Surely I have not become old
What curse is time to rob your youth
To drain you of vitality and vigor
Yet leave you with desires
To take away those you love
As little by little they pass away
only to remain in memory and sorrow
Where is my cuteness of youth and juvenility
That happy face that gained a smile with its own
What happen to that full lush head of hair
That dare the world to stare and was teased
by fingers of young lasses running through it
And those bright sunny eyes hidden by thick glasses
And how dare those wrinkles crinkle the smoothness of youth
I think of myself as young but am given senior citizen discounts
without asking. People open doors for me and seem to talk louder.
I hear the snickering of kids mocking me as old.
Mirror what have you done, why take away the joy of a child
The inner spark that keeps you loving, wanting, dreaming
By exposing the old fart before you
Mirror please lie to me, reflect not as I am but as I was
Give me back that handsome face the radiance of fresh life
Let me turn heads and draw stares of admiration again
The world is in love with youth, a pretty face, handsome fellow
the cuteness of a child. Get old get homely
Mirror you are no longer my friend
Your truth is damning
For a moment lie, show me young briefly
Shine that reflection of youth
Allow me to smile at my image again.
You are harsh yet humble, simple but true
You show me as I am and lead me to its acceptance
A vain reflection after all, not so bad looking for an old fellow.
Based on something said in a Jimmy Swaggart sermon...a tale of too late
Looking for that liar who sold my soul for sin
Taking a treasure chest of Godly wisdom and casting it to the wind
Break and bend...bruise and bleed until divinity gets bled dry
Now ten thousand times a day I ask myself why?
Why was I so eager and easily led so far astray?
Just like a mindless fool I followed a mad fiend straight into doomsday
Desires they led to dead ends
Dead ends to devastation
Devastation into death
Now I just can't switch the station
Another soul lost in the static
Another face frowns in the fire
I examine everyone I see as I'm looking for that liar
I hear screams down in the smoke
I hears moans of misery
Lustful lips they all surround and seek to swallow me
My mission still before me...eyes fixed on eternity
Like radio waves inside my head and radiation in my heart
I should have seen the warning signs to slow myself and stop
Consequences on the clock...the countdown still continues
I get heated with the hatred as I grab another head of hair
My hope is getting higher as I keep looking for that liar
Soon I see a pulpit and a puppet suspended above by 1000 strings
Now a demon with a giant pair of scissors cuts those cords and makes him scream
As he falls into the flames I recognize his viscous voice
And he's crying and complaining to a God that he betrayed
And the sheep that shepherd slaughtered now eat his flesh 4ever
I'm standing in the longest of lines to get my portion of that pie
Still looking for that liar...cause down here death never dies